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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part Two)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Butterflies getting caught in throats with no words to help explain. Time standing still with a heart breaking. Determination and a willingness to see it through float away in sleep.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw injury (nothing major, just a wrist injury)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 6644

Shoutout to @damianodavide, who was a superb help on this chapter and the real life nurse behind this one ;) 😘

***

Damiano’s head was spinning. As soon as he closed his eyes, Y/n’s face appeared in front of him, eyes hooded, lips plumps from just having kissed him, and an expression that promised a need for more. It left him bothered in a way that he knew would not let him sleep until he took care of it. Trying to pretend it was her feminine hand instead of his own rather undignified touch, he reached into the waistband of his underwear immediately letting out a hiss at the contact.

He was desperate for her, but if he couldn’t have her, his imagination would have to do. Pictures flashed through his mind as he moved his hand. Her on her knees, looking up at him through long lashes. He had already gotten a taste of the way she reacted when he complimented her, watching her eyes go wide as he called her a good girl. Her being good for him. Her on her back, ready to be devoured by him in any way he pleased. Feeling his hands go into her hair pulling her face up to look at him. Her bent over whatever furniture he could find, willing to let him have his way with her. Deeply, madly, irrefutably, he wanted it all. She was truly making him lose his mind. Her body and the way she moved were infatuating. Her laugh when someone did something dumb. The look in her eyes when she teased him back. He could still feel the kiss she left on his lips. He never wanted that feeling to end. Brava ragazza mia.

He came with an embarrassingly loud groan, unable to hold back or keep quiet. For a moment, in the silence, he wondered if anyone had heard. He was well aware that his room was surrounded by those of bandmates and crew, but he couldn’t remember who it was exactly anyway, and it didn’t bother him for long, his hazy mind drifting around once again.

***

“Where is your mind at?” Y/n looked up as Victoria pulled her out of her thoughts unexpectedly. Y/n had stopped in Victoria's room after breakfast, trying to keep tabs on what everyone’s plans were on their day off. She had meant to get some work done as Victoria was busying herself getting ready, but it had ended up with her staring into the distance, laptop almost forgotten on her lap.

“Oh, sorry. I’m here, what were you saying?”

“I asked where your mind is at.” Victoria fell forward laying on the bed. Y/n knew that the blonde was starting to learn to read her like a book and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

“Yeah, um, listen. What would you say to someone that may have absolutely decimated her career, by maybe accidentally kissing her boss while they were all high?” She didn’t dare look at the bassist, bracing herself for whatever negative reaction would potentially come from this.

Victoria sat up in surprise, eyes wide and the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m going to need a lot more information than that.” Without giving in to Y/n’s slight protest, she removed the laptop from the assistant’s legs, closing it shut and putting it away. “Tell me everything.”

“Well, there wasn’t much to it really. We sat on the couch, you know that. And I said something stupid about how his eyes looked like chocolates, or maybe gemstones? I don’t quite remember. Anyway, then he pulled my hair out of the hair-tie. I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned his face. Fuck, it was bad. Not the kiss! He is very good at that! But I shouldn’t have done that. And then he just went ‘it's cool, it happens’. What does that even mean?!” She was talking much too quickly, getting it all out before the rational part of her brain would make her shut up. Make her remember she was talking to someone she’d only just started getting to know a week ago, who she was working for. “Then Thomas crashed and you know how that ended. Now I might be avoiding him. Just a bit.” She looked at Vic with a slight panic in her eyes, unsure if she had said too much.

Victoria, on the other hand, seemed delighted to no end, if a little shocked. “Wait, as if you kissed with all of us there and no one noticed!” She exclaimed, briefly pausing, contemplating, but shaking it off to get back to the conversation. “So… Good kiss, huh? Did you enjoy it then? Wanna do it again?” Her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Victoria! That is not what I am worried about here! I could lose my job. I- I could never show my face out there again if people found out. And I really enjoy this job, you know!” Her face scrunched a little bit, calming down with a sigh. “...But also, yes, he was a gentleman, and if he wanted to … kiss me again, I probably wouldn’t say no. But I also wouldn’t say yes. I work for you. This is not the time to be thinking about how much I enjoyed kissing Damiano!”

Her eyes went wide as her voice dropped to a whisper, looking down at her hands. “Ah fuck, I said that out loud.”

“Okay, let’s look at it from a rational standpoint then.” Victoria turned slightly more serious at seeing her panic. “There is no way you’ll be losing your job over this. Maybe I wouldn’t advise hopping into bed with the whole band and crew, but we always got a tight-knit relationship with people we work with anyway, you know that. None of us would rat you out to management or anything. Plus, if you liked and Damiano liked it… wouldn’t it be a shame to worry about anything else instead of going for it?”

“I don’t know if he liked it. I was busy trying not to pass out, to be honest. I avoided him this morning by going straight to your room. I actually kind of avoided everyone, I’m scared the words of what happened will just come out to anyone who asks… Kind of like they just did with you.” She let out another deep sigh, switching between looking at her nails, picking at them, and out the window. “If he ...you know ... Then maybe. I honestly don’t even know what I would do with that information. On the off chance that he did like it though. And wanted to go for it then I’d consider it.” She tried to remain as put together as possible and, well aware that she was failing miserably.

“Well, in that case, we have to find out what Damiano wants!” Victoria’s enthusiasm was back with a vengeance. “You should talk to him! Or should I talk to him? Maybe I should lock you in a room like those romcoms and threaten to not let you out again until you kiss.”

“Or you don’t do that because that is entrapment. I think I would be cool with you talking to him. But I still have to do my job. That comes first. Because as far as I am concerned,” Y/n got up and grabbed her laptop again, “it is business as usual. And last night was a fluke. Not to crush your rom-com dreams, love, but if I spoke to him I’d put my foot in my mouth faster than you can play bass.”

The smirk on Vic’s face didn’t promise anything good. “We’ll see about that, we’ll see,” she ominously muttered, before jumping up from the bed. “Now stop trying to pretend you got work to do, we’re going vintage clothes shopping.”

***

The thrift store turned out to be a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, just off a side street - perfect for shopping in peace without getting much attention at all. Y/n hadn’t been all that keen on keeping the band company for this little adventure, but Victoria had insisted, claiming she needed a female perspective in case the boys were being stupid again. It had only taken a serious case of the puppy dog eyes to win her over, and Victoria found herself making a mental note to remember it.

The store was stuffed full of clothes, a kind of chaos that seemed to have an order that only the owner really understood. But it looked like heaven, and within seconds everyone had vanished into some corner or other, dying to find their newest favourite piece. For a moment, Victoria contemplated who she wanted to follow first, feeling the need to talk to at least two different people but also never wanting to miss out on a chance to go crazy with Thomas. Ended up deciding on Damiano. It seemed the more pressing issue. She hadn’t failed to notice how he would try to pretend that everything was normal, yet continuously evading Y/n’s eyes. She had kept her distance all the same. This wasn’t acceptable. She had to do something, Victoria decided.

She found the singer shuffling through some blouses, although much more half-heartedly than he tended to be when it came to vintage clothes. Looking out from the racks Victoria saw Y/n doing the same. She briefly considered how to go on about this - admit that Y/n had told her what had happened? Pretend she had actually seen the kiss last night? - but figured that Damiano would start talking on his own accord sooner or later. Especially if this was affecting him the way it was Y/n, and she was almost hoping it was.

“Okay, spill, what’s up with you today?”

Damiano shrugged, pulling a shirt out from the rack, and holding it against his body, waiting for Victoria's opinion. She raised a brow and put it back wordlessly.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he responded rather vaguely.

“Damia, you’ve barely spoken at all today. Normally you can’t shut up. And you know, I’d be thankful for some peace and quiet from you, but you’re actually worrying me. So what’s going on with you?”

Damiano had a panicked look on his face as he scanned over the racks of clothes, his eyes flickering back and forth, obviously noticing Y/n shuffling through some things and slowly getting closer. Taking Vic by surprise, he dragged her into the dressing rooms.

“Okay, that’s…. Weirdly intimate, but go on,” Vic mumbled to herself as he closed the curtain behind them, still nervously looking around the small space.

“Rather talk to you in here, than her hear me out there. I may have fucked up, royally.” He crossed his arms over his chest and Victoria was sure he would be burning a hole into the wall with his vision if he possessed that power. He was avoiding looking at her and she knew it.

“Explain,” she simply demanded, sitting down on the tiny stool in the corner and looking up at Damiano. She wanted to hear it from him, hear what had happened in his version of the story, hear what was bothering him so much.

“So we were at that bar, right? Y/n was sitting next to me. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, you were there. Anyway. We were talking. I don’t know if it was the smoking or whatever else, but I looked at her and - I don’t know why I did this but I did. I pulled her hair out of her hair tie.” He leaned on the wall, his head hitting the brick behind him. He groaned but Vic assumed it didn’t have anything to do with the pain. “And… and she was so beautiful. Her hair just all around her. So soft. And at that moment, she was laughing and it sounded heavenly. And I went to look at her again and suddenly my lips were on hers…” His voice softened at the end, losing his train of thought and drifting. She had never quite seen him like this. “Then she was freaking out, and I told her some fucking stupid line like ‘it happens’. I just wanted her to calm down but… Now she must think I’d just...” He groaned, slumping a little and finally looking over at Vic. “Then she ran off to help Thomas.”

“So, what you’re saying then is that you did enjoy it? Potentially wanna do it again?” She felt transported back to the conversation she’d had with Y/n just hours earlier, posing almost the exact same question. She had never been this involved with any of her friends’ relationships to this extent, but something told her that her help was desperately needed in this case.

He raised a brow at her. “Did you not hear the part where after we kissed she then proceeded to freak out? I doubt that she even wants to see my face right now.” A heavy sigh left him and Victoria found herself laying a hand on his arm. “And of course I want to kiss her again, Vic. I close my eyes and she is there. Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

***

Y/n stood in the shoe aisle holding a pair of heels in her hand, contemplating for a second, before putting them on. Turning towards Ethan, who was walking towards her now, she realised it had eliminated all height differences between them. Definitely too high, she thought to herself. Holding onto his shoulders, she clumsily took them back off.

“Hey Ethan, find anything good?” The smile on her face felt forced but she was praying he wouldn’t see it.

He proudly holds up a black, studded belt with an intricate design on it, as well as a pink suede jacket. “How about you? I think I saw some nice trousers over there that might suit you. Wanna check it out?”

Y/n scoffed. She didn’t want to let her mood out on Ethan, trying her hardest to stay diplomatic. “Love the idea, but I doubt any of the clothes in here would go over my thigh. They’d fit you guys just great though. The jacket looks good, by the way.” She tried to distract herself from - well, everything - by putting the shoes away, mindlessly letting her fingers wander over the other pairs standing there.

Ethan looked at her in contemplation for a moment, but seemed to decide against following his train of thought. “At least try on some more shoes. Here, what about these?” He excitedly grabbed a pair of high-heeled boots, very much in the style she could see any of them wearing on stage - much less the one she usually went for when working.

A little intimidated, she took the shoes, if only to humour him. Ethan was nothing but a sweetheart, this was the least she could do. She put them on only with some slight struggle. She once again reached his height, almost amused by the feeling of seeing eye-to-eye with him, but the shoes felt strange. Very far removed from the usual flats, sneakers, boots, or whatever other pair that would allow her to keep running around all day without regretting it in the evening.

“Do I look silly?”

“You look gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.” His voice had the most earnest tone to it and it was only supported by the way he studied her, looking her up and down. “Maybe walk a few steps to see if you can get used to it.”

She laughed as she proceeded to strut and partially dance some steps down the aisle to the song playing in the store. “I haven’t worn heels in so long, still got it though!”.” Her small smile grew into a grin, rather proud of herself for still being able to keep up. Going to the mirror near Ethan she looked at the shoes, then at herself in the shoes, then back at Ethan. Still, the insecurity took over for a moment. Her voice seemed small when she asked, “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you like that,” he replied, putting a hand over his heart for emphasis. “Want to go and see what the others think? I saw Thomas over there, and Vic and Dami disappeared into that corner a while ago.”

“Right, good idea.” She walked over to the dressing room looking for Damiano and Victoria, figuring they had gone to try on some things. Well, she was mainly looking for Victoria, still uncomfortable at the thought of facing the singer. She was in the middle of calling out for them when Damiano’s voice seeped through the curtain instead. She didn’t mean to listen, only to wait for him to stop so she could interrupt, but the second she realised what he was saying she wished she had never come over.

“Hell, she wakes me up every morning! I can’t escape. She is everywhere I go! I turn a corner and she is there. She's the one we go to when wanting to eat, she arranges the cars, she helps us with concerts, she’s doing everything all the time. I don’t know how much more I can take!”

She stepped back. Frozen in place. Her heart was beating out of her chest, hurting, aching, breaking just that little bit. Processing what he had said seemed to happen not at all and then suddenly all at once. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. Anything but this suffocation. She needed to leave.

“I need some air.”

The words came out of her mouth much louder than anticipated, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care that people were looking at her now. She didn’t care that was still wearing a pair of shoes that she had definitely not paid for yet. She just needed out, out, out, and away from all this. From him.

She didn’t realise she was walking on cobblestone until she wasn’t anymore, her ankle giving way, arms desperately trying to keep her from falling as she stumbled.

***

Damiano and Victoria stopped in their tracks as they heard someone approach from outside of the dressing room. Both heads turned towards the sound, when Y/n’s voice came through, telling maybe no one in particular that she needed some air. Her voice sounded strange. Damiano was convinced he had never heard that particular tone in it. As he threw back the curtain, he saw her stumble outside, clearly hectic, and he could feel a surge of panic run through him. Something wasn't right here. He forgot all about the conversation he was having, all about Victoria, and made his way outside. Not quite running, but the worry had him out of the door quickly. His heart sank when he saw her, lying on the floor just outside of the shop, holding her arm awkwardly, some scratches already beginning to bleed a little. As she looked up at him, he could see tears pricking at her eyes.

"Fuck, are you okay? What happened? I just saw-" The look on her face - or rather, the way she turned away from him - shut him up instantly. This wasn't the time to bombard her with questions. It didn't matter anyway. Instead of bothering her further, he quickly knelt down beside her, helping her sit up in return. He was acutely aware of the way she pulled away the second he touched her skin. Like she had been burned. ´

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Sorry to ruin the shopping trip, you can go back in if you want to," she mumbled, trying to wipe some tears away but instead spreading some dirt and drying blood onto her cheek instead. Damiano wanted to touch her, clean her up, dry her tears, but the way she had pulled away a minute ago made him not want to try. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her more. He watched as she pulled out her wallet, handing it to him. "Go pay for the shoes please. And stop looking at me like that, I said I’m fine."

Yet, as soon as she moved, she winced in pain, taking a deep breath before getting herself up to a standing position. He found himself holding her arm in support, but she only accepted it for as long as necessary. As he let go, she let out a small cry of pain, obviously holding her hurt wrist the wrong way.

“You’re obviously not fine,” Damiano sighed. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, but she was already in tears, turning away, and it simply didn’t seem like a sensible option. He looked around at the others as they gathered around Y/n. Only Thomas was missing, probably still blissfully unaware inside the shop and browsing for clothes. He tossed the wallet to Ethan. “Would you mind paying for her shoes real quick?” Ethan nodded, walking back into the store. Y/n was still standing between them, holding her arm close to her body in a protective gesture. Almost a similar expression to the one she had had on her face on the plane all those days ago. He wondered if something was scaring her the way the turbulence did back then.

“I am and will be fine, Damiano.” Her voice was stern. “I cry at a lot of things, this is no different. I wrap it up, put ice on it for a while and I’m golden.”

He watched as Victoria put a tentative hand on Y/n’s shoulder. She didn’t pull away from her touch, he noticed. “Y/n, that really doesn’t look like nothing. Look, it’s starting to swell up already.”

"What do you want me to do then?" She almost sounded resigned now as she looked back and forth between Damiano and Victoria. "We are in Amsterdam. I don't exactly have a GP on speed dial here. Now, where is Ethan with my wallet?"

She started walking towards the door of the shop, but Damiano defiantly held out his arm to stop her. "We are taking you to A&E."

Her face seemed to drain of all colour, and this time it was not because of the pain. "You are not taking me to a hospital."

Damiano looked at her, determination in his eyes, trying to make her understand that this was non-negotiable. Just for now, he would forget about the way she was brushing him off, the way she was evading his touch, the way she did not even want to look at him. Because right now she needed him and he would be there for her, if she wanted him to be or not.

"Yes, I am. Final decision. You would do the same for us if we got hurt. But we're responsible for you too, you're part of our crew, and right now, being responsible means getting this checked out. Besides, you're not getting your wallet back until you agree."

As soon as Ethan stepped outside again, this time with a slightly confused-looking Thomas in tow, Damiano snatched the wallet from his hands only to put it in his own jeans pocket. She was mad, obviously turning whatever was bothering her into anger, but Damiano was having none of it and he hoped the look in his eyes told her so.

"Fine! Take me to the hospital. But know that I am not happy about this."

"I don't need you to be. I just need you to come with me."

***

A quick refresher of her rudimentary Dutch verified that she was indeed looking for "spoedeisende hulp", another search on the internet confirmed that there was a hospital nearby, and before she knew it, she had been whisked into a taxi with Damiano. The others had decided to make their way back to the hotel, no point in clogging up the waiting room. Damiano promised to call with any news immediately.

Y/n wouldn't tell him, certainly not right then and there but she was happy that Damiano seemed to take the lead for once. She wouldn't have had any problems had any of the others needed medical help - but having people fuss about her? Making her the center of attention in a way she did not intend to be and having to accept help from others?... It was a completely different story. Still she appreciated the way he handled the situation, making sure she got registered with the administration straight away, listening attentively for further instructions, and leading her into the waiting area. She was also glad that it seemed to be quiet, not only because it would result in less of a wait, but also because the bustling would have made her all the more nervous.

This was out of her comfort zone. She had managed to avoid hospitals for the majority of her life, and yet here she was, because she panicked and couldn't handle her shoes. Looking down at them, she wanted to curse them. Curse the fact that they made her walk over to Damiano and Victoria in the first place, curse the fact that she had heard Damiano speak about her that way, curse the fact that they carried her out the door but not much further. She didn't even know where her actual shoes were. Hopefully, Ethan had kept his head and collected them on the way out after paying.

A few seats down, someone coughed loudly, reminding her exactly of where she was. It wasn't the worst hospital she had ever been in, that much was true, but she would rather not see one from the inside at all. She was dying for some comfort, some soothing words, a gentle touch, but as soon as Damiano made any attempt at reaching out to her she pulled back. His words were still heavily playing on her mind, the swelling of her wrist and the heat that seemed to seep from it a painful reminder. There was no way she was going to let herself fall, be reassured and consoled by him when he was so obviously sick of her presence. She wouldn't do that to either of them. Victoria with all her good intentions be damned. At least right now.

“Why are they not calling you in, it doesn’t even look like they’re doing anything,” Damiano grumbled next to her, eyes on the nurse’s station where a few of them were sitting. A few eyes were on them, something that looked like an excited discussion.

“Stop it, I’m sure they’re busy at work. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean they aren’t”, she bit back, slightly harsher than intended. He shot her a look, eyebrows raised, but she turned away, not looking to have a deeper conversation.

It left Damiano sitting in silence. Leaving both of them in the same situation, again. Y/n and him alone. Well, alone enough. Alone enough to not have anyone distract her from the uncomfortable feeling that settled over them. No Thomas being silly, no Victoria making a dumb comment, no calming presence of Ethan. Through this whole process, Y/n had basically crawled back into herself. She wished she could disappear.

She didn't know how much time had passed when they were finally called, too preoccupied with her own thoughts and the pain in her wrist. The nurse that beckoned them over had the warmest smile on her face, albeit tired eyes and it surprised Y/n how much comfort she found in the soft expression of the woman. White slacks, rolled up sleeves, pockets so full it looked like they were bursting at the seams, dark hair up in a bun. She found herself looking over at Damiano, wondering if he was aware of how gorgeous this woman was, how kind and calming her aura was, but his eyes were trained solely on her. She didn't allow herself to get lost in his gaze, quickly dropping hers and following the nurse into an examination room.

“Hi, I’m Ana, I’m going to be your nurse for today. You only speak English, am I correct?” She asked, gesturing for both of them to sit down, Y/n on the examination table and Damiano on a chair next to it. There was a slight twinge of an accent in her speech, but it was clear that she was fluent, which was a relief. Y/n didn’t even want to think about trying to get this done with the few words she knew in Dutch. She nodded, gratefully. “We’re going to go over what happened, and then I’ll do a physical examination, and the doctor will see you after as well.”

Y/n watched as the nurse fumbled with the computer, seemingly already typing things before Y/n had even said anything. “So, what exactly happened?”

“I, uh, tried on some heels and tripped on the cobblestone outside,” Y/n explained, taking a moment to glare at the offending shoes still on her feet. “Fell forwards, tried to soften the blow with my hands and now my wrist looks like this.” She held up the offending arm, gathering that the sight would speak for itself. The dried blood of the little scrapes on the palms of her hand did its best to make it look more dramatic than it felt.

“Oh, yeah that looks quite painful,” the nurse winced. “I see you’ve scraped your knee as well.”

Y/n looked down, slightly confused, only to realise her jeans had torn, revealing a beat-up knee underneath. Crap, she hadn’t even noticed, too occupied with… well, everything else. This felt like it was getting worse by the second, she never wanted to get back to a hotel room this badly. She felt like crying, but letting Damiano see her composure waver was the last thing she would allow.

“It’s nothing,” she sighed, moving her legs as if it gave her a chance of hiding her bruises.

“It’s not nothing, Y/n,” Damiano sighed next to her, before turning towards the nurse. “I think it’s more serious than she’s letting on.” In the same determined tone from before.

The nurse looked back and forth between the two of them. “It’s probably the shock of it.”

Oh yeah, the shock. Mainly that of finding out that Damiano didn’t want her around, apparently.

The nurse asked a few more questions, time of the accident, previous medical history, medication she was taking regularly, but they barely reached her. She found herself answering curtly, with Damiano filling in where he could. She wouldn’t tell him she was thankful for it. Even though the idea of him taking care of her made her emotional.

“Right, let’s get that wrist looked at then.” Y/n had feared it would be painful but as soon as the nurse started handling her? She knew it was her job to feel the joints, test her range of motion, move her arm. But unwelcome tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to push Damiano’s hand away, as she almost reveled in the comforting touch on her back. The small talk didn’t even begin to make for a distraction. Yet, something was nagging at the back of Y/n’s head as she watched the nurse interact with Damiano. There was a familiarity in her eyes… Did she know who he was? Surely not.

“This will need an X-Ray to make sure it’s not broken,” the nurse concluded, finally letting go of her wrist. Damiano whispered a quiet ‘You okay?’ over to her, but she couldn’t do anything but nod. “I will bandage the scrapes a bit while we wait for a doctor. So, what brings you to Amsterdam today?”

“Work,” Y/n answered, trying to keep some degree of privacy, but Damiano didn’t seem to mind butting in immediately.

“I’m in a band, we’re on tour. She’s our assistant and overall angel.” She wanted to shoot him a look, both at the unnecessary honesty and the over-the-top way he was describing her, but a touch to her banged-up knee distracted her.

A doctor popped into the room quickly verified everything the nurse had told him And before she knew it she was being led down a hallway to get an X-Ray. Damiano stayed behind in the room.

“Cute couple, the two of you,” the nurse piped up next to her.

“Um, yeah, no. Not a couple. Just a working relationship.”

“You sure about that?”

Y/n almost wanted to stop dead in her tracks, ask the nurse what on earth had given her that idea, but she also knew she was here to get examined and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the person responsible.

“Very. He doesn’t like me like that, he’s made that crystal clear.”

“Well, he certainly doesn’t look like you in a way that suggests he doesn’t like you. If anything, I would have guessed he was head-over-heels for you.”

Y/n was stumped for a reply. Was this woman making fun of her? She didn’t look like someone who would. So why would she say these things? With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, Y/n decided she would have to talk to Damiano at some point. Have him either stand by his statement and back off, or explain what the hell he was doing. Because she was starting to lack comprehension about any of it.

She was glad the rest of the appointment seemed to fly by in a hurry, or maybe Y/n’s brain had simply gone into power-saving mode, not really taking it what as happening around her anymore. Her exhaustion was tangible. The X-Ray was done quickly enough, someone sent her back to the examination room, and before she knew it, the doctor had announced that it was, in fact, not broken. A quick wrap around her wrist, some instructions on how to care for it (that Damiano seemed to listen to more closely than she did), and she was almost out the door. She was sure she would have fallen asleep on the examination table. It was only the nurse quickly saying her goodbye and adding another comment that almost threw her off balance again.

“Bye, guys. And by the way, nice show yesterday. I promise I wasn’t the one who threw the bra.”

***

It was dark out by the time Y/n and Damiano made it back to the hotel. He had made sure to text the others, telling them to go for dinner without them, they’d be fine, and he figured she would need some rest. The hotel restaurant was quiet enough and he motioned towards it, but Y/n shook her head.

“I’ve got a few snacks in my room, but honestly, I’m not hungry at all. I just want to go to bed.”

Yet, tired as she was, it only took one pointed look for her to shut him up, so he simply nodded and led her towards the elevators.

“At least let me bring you to your room and see if you need any more help. And I can give you your wallet back.”

He could tell in the way she stiffened next to him, the way she barely reacted to his words, that she wasn’t keen on the idea, but he wouldn’t let her get away with it. He was desperate to find out what was bothering her and why she was so distant, but he couldn’t figure it out. Was the kiss still playing on her mind? Was she uncomfortable with him? It was the last thing he wanted. He needed to show her he was willing to be there for her.

Closing the door of her room behind him, a shout rang through the room.

“These fucking things, I hate them!” She was loud and angry while trying to get her shoes off, but her voice was wavering and if he watched her in just the right light he was convinced he was seeing the beginning of tears forming in her eyes.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine,” he tried to soothe, unsure if he was going about it the wrong way, but quickly bending in front of where she was sitting on the bed. She kicked her heels once more in frustration, obviously unable to get them off with her wrist still compromised.

“Don’t shush me when it’s all your fault,” she whispered and he almost stopped dead in his tracks, but he figured she hadn’t meant for him to hear. He stayed quiet, against everything in his heart telling him to find out what she was talking about. Instead, he focused on removing her shoes, gentle touches against her bare skin. Looking up at her, he realised that she was studying him, watching his every move, and he concentrated even harder on being the perfect gentleman. Yet, when he pulled the second shoe off her, he couldn’t help letting his hand rest on her calf a little longer than necessary.

“Come on, let’s get you into some pyjamas,” he decided, getting up and putting some distance between them. Too afraid of getting ahead of himself, of letting his hands wander more than appropriate places, of saying something he shouldn’t. He threw what he gathered to be her sleepwear in her general directions. “If you need any help changing because of your wrist, let me know.”

He hoped his smile was as sincere as he meant it. Either way, she didn’t give him much of a reaction, grabbing the clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. A few sharp hisses reached him through the door, but he knew better than to offer his help again.

He wasn’t sure what the acceptable place for him to sit was, but since the room didn’t offer anything but a worn-out armchair and the bed, he decided that choosing the far side of the mattress wasn’t too bad. He didn’t even realise she had left the en-suite until her voice reached him.

“We really need to talk, Damiano.” She sounded resigned and tired and he wished he could wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, but it didn’t seem like the right time. As soon as she reached the side of the bed opposite him, she all but collapsed on it. She sleepily grabbed one of the many unnecessary hotel pillows they placed on the bed and nuzzled her face into it.

“There will be more than enough time for that tomorrow,” he replied, grabbing the blanket and making sure she was fully covered by it. “It’s been a long day, try to get some rest.”

She didn’t even manage to argue anymore, eyes already fluttering closed, breathing slowly becoming more steady. She was gorgeous like this. A soft calm overtaking the scene. No wall up that kept everyone else from her inner thoughts. No front that she put up in desperate attempts to remain professional. Just a softness etched into her features that highlighted her natural divine beauty.

He wanted to take her worries away. He hoped that whenever they did get to talk tomorrow, it would yield some clarity. The last thing he wanted was for her to ever feel this way. He had grown so attached to her, so obsessed with the idea of having her around, that he already feared the end of the tour. If she would give him any option to stay in her life, he would take it, whatever way it was.

Damiano barely noticed the way he was slipping down on the mattress, his fingers softly patting her head, eyelids getting heavy. The last thing on his mind was Y/n, sleeping soundly next to him and wishing for nothing but to make her happy.

***

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#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

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hardcasey · 3 years

Text

Sweet Tooth

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 2

Pairing: Toast x F!Reader

Summary: You are an owner of a bakery on Coruscant and end up running into a certain clone with a penchant for baked goods.

Word Count: 7k (I got carried away lmao)

Rating/Warnings: T, Mostly fluff again, though it gets a little PG-13 at the end. Nothing too crazy tho.

A/N: Who’s more of a background clone than everyone’s fave boy Toast? I decided to give him the classic bakery au meet-cute that he deserves. <3 Not proofread so let me know if there are any glaring errors!

“You sure you don’t need any help cleaning up?” Your employee, Vella, called from the front of the shop.

You poked your head out through the little window that separated the kitchen from the rest of the store. “I’m good, Vel. Go enjoy your Friday night.”

“Alright, night boss,” The Twi’lek woman gave you a mock salute and laughed when she saw you roll your eyes before turning and heading out the door into the busy Coruscant streets.

You turned back to your current task, taking inventory. It was not the most glamorous job, in fact it was your least favorite part about owning your own business, but it had to be done. With a sigh, you started counting, quickly losing yourself in the monotony.

You were the proud owner of a small bakery on Coruscant. It was not the most lucrative job by far, but it had always been your dream to bake for a living, and you were proud to have achieved that goal so quickly. It had taken a lot of hard work to get to where you were now, along with quite a bit of luck. You had been finishing up your last year in culinary school when you walked by a place for rent right in the heart of the city. It had been right around when the war started, and the owner wanted to sell off the space as quickly as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that he may have been involved with the Separatists and was trying to jump ship and flee the planet. Honestly, you didn’t really care what his deal was, only that he was giving you the place for a steal. Seppie or not, you were thankful for him. There was no other way you would have been able to afford a place in this part of the city otherwise.

You had dropped a considerable portion of your savings into the purchase and renovation of the bakery, and there were times that you were subsisting off of nothing but cheap instant noodles, but everything had worked out in the end. The prime location meant there was a lot of foot traffic and it didn’t take long before you were turning a profit. And the quality of your pastries and baked goods earned you a loyal customer base, and you had many regulars that stopped in for a cup of caf and a little treat on their way to work.

Once you finished up taking inventory, you headed out to the front to start cleaning up, stacking the chairs up on the tables so you could start sweeping. You were saving up for a droid that would sweep the floors for you, but you were still a ways off from that so you had to do it the old fashioned way.

It was then that you noticed there was someone looking in through the window, clearly ogling the display of pastries and cakes that was there. The light from the setting sun pouring through the window cast their face in shadow, so you couldn’t tell who it was.

Might as well invite them in, you thought to yourself as you leaned the broom against the wall. After all, the bakery wasn’t technically closed yet, though you almost never had customers at this time.

You swung the door open and were about to say something to the figure when you saw them jump, clearly not realizing you were there.

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry for scaring you! I just wanted to let you know that the bakery is still open if you want anything.” You said gently, holding your hands up in a placating manner.

Now that you were outside, you could see the figure more clearly. They were a human male, with tan skin and warm brown eyes. He was wearing a grey uniform and his short dark hair was partly obscured by a matching grey hat. He seemed very familiar to you, and you were about to ask if you knew him, before it hit you. Duh! He was a clone. You weren’t used to seeing clones in anything other than their distinctive white armor, so it took a moment for your brain to put two and two together.

“Oh, uh, I was just looking, ma’am! I’m very sorry.” He said quickly, the same way that a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar would. He looked so sheepish, as if he was about to bolt any second. You weren’t sure why he was so apologetic, he was just looking through the window. A bunch of people did that.

“No need to apologize, everyone looks through the windows.” You said, flashing him what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I, uh, just wasn’t sure if you were gonna run me out or something,” he told you, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why would I do that?”

“Not many businesses are open to clones, and I wasn’t sure. I’ve never seen any clones in your shop and I guess I just assumed.”

Okay, that lowkey made your blood boil. Why would anyone discriminate against the clones? They were the ones putting their lives on the line to protect the Republic, for kriffs sake! You hadn’t interacted with many clones, but the ones you had run into were nothing but polite and respectful.

“That’s terrible! We absolutely allow clones here! You know what, come inside. There are still some pastries leftover from today. I’ll put them in a box for you and you can bring them back to your, er, squad? Company? Your friends!” You finished breathlessly, a little embarrassed you knew so little about anything involving the military.

“Are you sure? I-I don’t have any money to pay for them,” He said sadly, his eyes darting down to his shoes as if there was suddenly something fascinating about them.

“Nonsense! They’ll be going bad soon anyway and will just end up in the trash. You’ll be doing me a favor, honestly.” Without allowing him to protest further, you grabbed his elbow and tugged him into your shop. In the back of your mind you registered how big his bicep felt, which surprised you. He looked fit, yes, but it wasn’t like he was some meathead. Maybe his uniform just did a good job of disguising how strong he was. You felt yourself blush once you realised the path your thoughts had veered down and quickly pushed them out of your mind.

“It smells good in here,” he said to no one in particular as he dropped his harm and headed behind the counter to start filling a box with leftover pastries.

You smiled at him, before you realised something. “Forgive my manners, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“CT-1928, ma’am.” He replied, his back straightening ever so slightly as he did, as if the action was ingrained in him.

“Do you have a nickname? I know a lot of clones go by them instead of their number.” You said delicately. You didn’t want to offend him by asking, but it felt so strange, so dehumanizing, to call him by a number.

“Oh, uh, my brothers call me Toast.” He said, once again sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not the greatest nickname, but it’s the one that stuck.”

“Haha, I think it’s cute. And don’t worry, my parents used to call me Possum when I was little, because I used to climb around and get into the trash. It was cute until they said it in front of my friends, then they started calling me that too.”

He laughed at that, his shoulders relaxing, his posture not so stiff. “My brothers started calling me Toast because the first time they served toast in the cafeteria after I got my assignment, I ate so many pieces I made myself sick.”

“Pfft. That’s amazing,” You laughed as you shuffled things around so you could fit one last croissant inside. You got the sense the clones didn’t often get to have sweets, so you were going to make sure Toast could bring as many back as possible. “So are you here on shore leave?”

“I’m actually a member of the Coruscant Guard. So I’m here often. Well all the time. I walk by this place every time they send me off to run errands, which is often since I’m still the new guy.”

“Oh, that’s cool. That means you work with senators, right? That must be… something.” You’d read stories on the holonet about some of the more notorious senators and you doubted they treated the clones particularly well.

“I haven’t personally worked with any members of the senate, though a lot of my brothers have. Most of my day is spent staring at security cameras. So, pretty boring. Though I’m not complaining.”

You tied up the package with a neat little bow before handing it to him, another bright smile flashing across your face. Something about his earnest, open demeanor was very endearing to you and you secretly hoped you’d get to see him again soon. If not anything else, you could at least learn a little more about the clones that dedicated their lives to protecting the Republic, since your knowledge on the subject was apparently so lacking.

“Well it’s good to hear that you’re local. Hopefully you can stop by again the next time you’re running errands. And feel free to invite your brothers too!”

“T-thank you, ma’am. That is very kind of you.” He said before taking the box of pastries in his hand, holding it almost reverently. He was trying to hide it but you could tell he was very excited to eat some sweets later.

With one last nod he headed out of the store, the bell chiming lightly after him. You stood there, simply watching his receding form blend into the crowd, catching yourself smiling at the prospect of seeing him again.

~~~

Toast hadn’t made it three steps into the barracks before his vode were descending upon him. Well not really him as much as the box full of sugary confections in his hands.

“What ya got there?” Jek inquired, already tugging at the ribbon to investigate the box’s contents.

Toast shoved his greedy hands out of the way and marched over to the counter where they kept the caf machine, which was in a perpetual state of disarray. The caf machine was old, probably older than any of them, and saw high traffic 24/7. Honestly, with the amount it leaked and sputtered, it was a miracle the machine was still functioning. Toast hoped it would at least until the war was over because when it went, Fox would be in the grave right next to it.

“You know that bakery on the way back from the Jedi temple?” Toast inquired as he placed the box on the counter, starting to pick at the knot so he could open it without cutting the ribbon. It was a pretty striped pastel pink and he wanted to keep it.

“The one with the little tooka-shaped cookies?” Rhys’ eyes went wide with excitement.

“Yeah, the lady who worked there saw me looking inside and then gave me all the leftover pastries from the window.”

“For free!?” Jek exclaimed as he shuffled back towards the box, “What did you get? Did you get an eclair? Please tell me you got an eclair.” Toast nodded and handed his brother one, who promptly dug in.

“What’s this about eclairs?” Stone rounded the corner, instantly noticing the box and saddling up to him. “Did you get sweets?”

Toast spent the next few minutes divvying up the various pastries between everyone. He chose something made up of many thin layers of dough, filled with chopped nuts and soaked in honey. Baklava, he thinks it was called, or maybe balaclava? He didn’t know the difference. But he didn’t care as he devoured it, savoring each bite like it was something precious. He glanced around and saw all his brothers were experiencing similar states of bliss, if their expressions were anything to go by.

~~~

He didn’t have a chance to visit the bakery for the next two weeks, too busy running around dealing with mess after mess. One day, a prison riot. The next, bomb threats at the senate. Everyone in the guard was so exhausted and in desperate need of a break. So when Hound mentioned he was taking Grizzer for a walk, Toast decided to tag along so that he could get some fresh air. Well, fresh for Coruscant.

At some point they’d run into Rhys and Thire, on the way back from patrol duty. Neither of them were in a rush to get back to HQ to receive new marching orders, so they ended up tagging along.

Their little group wandered the streets, just walking with no direction in mind. Grizzer had his snout pressed close to the ground, desperate to sniff everything. Toast smiled at the massiff’s antics from behind his bucket, before glancing around and realizing they were just a block away from the bakery.

“Hey, guys. Wanna stop at that bakery? It’s just over there.” Toast asked, pointing his finger at the little awning in front of the shop.

Thire looked at him as if he had two heads. “Why? Do you think we’ll get handouts again? Not that I’m complaining, free is free, but didn’t you get those because it was the end of the day and she was planning on throwing them out? It’s the middle of the day now…”

“Well, she said I could come back whenever. And that I could bring you guys too.” Toast felt his cheeks heat up for some reason, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What if she was just being polite, and he wasn’t really supposed to come back? What if he brought too many of his brothers and she thought he was taking advantage of her generosity?

He was just about to suggest they should move on when Rhys piped up. “Well, what are we waiting for? C’mon.” He was already halfway to the bakery before anyone could respond. Rhys had a major sweet tooth and nothing motivated him more than some sweets. Hound and Grizzer were right on his heels, having missed out on the pastries last time.

Toast caught up to them quickly, with Thire right behind them, though they all froze as soon as they made it up to the doors. There were people inside this, lounging around sipping drinks and chatting. Could they go in? Would people get mad?

All his vode were waiting for him to do something, and his eyes searched frantically around the storefront as if he would find an answer there. And, surprisingly, he did. Sort of. Because hanging right in the window was a sign that read ‘CLONES WELCOME’. You had to have hung it after your interaction, there was no other explanation. Something about that made his heart race.

All of a sudden, you appeared in the window, a friendly grin on your face as you pointed at the sign and waved for them all to come in.

“You didn’t tell us she was pretty, vod,” Thire whispered as they shuffled their way inside. Toast could just feel the shit eating grin from under his brother’s bucket. He just gave a noncommittal grunt as a response, which only made Thire laugh.

The group of them stood awkwardly in the threshold of the store, not really knowing what to do with themselves. A few patrons looked over to see what was going on, and Toast braced for some sort of outrage at clones invading their space, but after a few seconds they all turned back to whatever they were doing before.

Toast stood there dumbly, just staring at you. He hadn’t really been able to take a good look at you the last time, too distracted by how strange the whole situation had been. But now he could see that Thire was right. You are pretty. Very pretty.

If you noticed how tongue-tied he was, you didn’t show it. You just greeted them with another smile and oh Maker that smile. It was the kind of smile that lit up your whole face and Toast wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.

“Hi! Is this your first time here?” You asked, cocking your head to one side.

“He’s been here before.” Hound answered, shoving Toast to the front of the group.

“Oh, are you the one from a few weeks ago? Toast?”

You remembered his name! He was pretty sure he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. It took a second to realize that he hadn't answered yet and he quickly sputtered out, “Y-yeah. That’s me.”

“I’m glad you came back! And you brought your brothers,” You turned to address the rest of the clones and offered out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you all, what are your names.”

Hound, always the people person and the one most used to interacting with the public, stepped forward and shook your hand. “I’m Hound. That’s Thire and Jek. It’s nice to meet you ma’am, I’ve heard you’re a great baker, though I wouldn’t know first-hand.”

You cocked an eyebrow at Toast, “You didn’t share?”

“He was out on patrol, I swear!” Toast stammered, holding his hands up in front of him.

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Though I think he should get to pick out what he wants first. It’s only fair.”

“Really?!” Hound exclaimed. His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on Grizzer, the massiff sitting up on his back legs and wiggling excitedly before letting out a happy bark. “Down boy,” Hound ordered, placing a hand on Grizzer’s hand to calm him down.

‘Awe, he’s just excited,” you giggled as you bent down to give him some pats of your own. “Can he eat treats? I have some by the door that I give to some of the other dogs.” You asked Hound as you straightened back up.

“Yes, he loves treats. Would you mind if I took them to go? I don’t want him spoiling his dinner.”

“Of course! Now pick out what you all want. And you can put a box together to take to your brothers.”

You spent the next twenty minutes helping them pick out pastries, answering questions so they could pick out something for each of their brothers. After they had made their selections, you sat with them at one of the tables and chatted. Well, you mostly asked questions and they all talked over each other in their excitement. Still, you enjoyed the time with them, happy to provide a place for them to relax and unwind. Their jobs seemed incredibly stressful and by reading in between the lines of some of the things they told you, they seemed to be mistreated by a good portion of the senators, made to run menial errands or be the punching bags senators took their frustrations out on. You could especially see it in Toast, in the way he was so scared of offending you, how he would avert his eyes all the time and flinch if someone spoke too loudly. It honestly made you want to burn down the senate building.

Everyone had finished eating when Thire looked down at his wrist and exclaimed, “Oh kriff, it’s been over an hour! Fox is gonna kill us.”

Toast scoffed. “Correction: Fox is going to kill you and Rhys. Hound and I are off right now.”

“Bring him an extra tiramisu to smooth things over.” You said, already wrapping one up and adding it to the rest of their haul.

The group scrambled around, putting their buckets back on and grabbing the various pastry boxes you’d filled for them. Toast paused before turning to you. “Um, we don’t have any credits on us right now, but I can bring some tomorrow. The Guard has a small discretionary fund we can-”

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

“A-are you sure? That was a lot of food…” Toast didn’t want her to lose money because of him. After all, he was the one that brought his brothers here.

“It’s okay, seriously. I actually started a little program where customers can buy a coffee or a pastry or whatever for a clone. There’s actually a little bucket next to the register that I set up,” you turned and pointed at it so he could see. “It was actually my employee Vella’s idea. She came up with it the day after we first met, and it’s been pretty popular. There are a lot of people out there who are really thankful for what you guys do, you know.”

Toast didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he wanted to cry at such a nice gesture. “That is… really kind of you. Thanks.” It didn’t feel like nearly enough, but they were the only words Toast could form at the moment.

“Of course,” you said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “Now go catch up with your brothers, and let the rest of them know they’re always welcome to a free drink or pastry here.”

Toast thanked you once again before heading outside to where his brothers were waiting, trying to convince himself that your hand hadn’t lingered on his arm for a beat too long. No, it was just wishful thinking.

As he and his vode made their way back to the barracks, Rhys threw an arm around his neck and said, “Wow, Toast, your girlfriend is the best!” earning him snickers from the rest of the group.

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Toast tried to protest.

“But you want her to be~” Hound teased. And he was right, Toast wanted that more than anything in the galaxy right now. But he knew it was impossible. You were beautiful and kind and funny and perfect and he... was just a clone.

“It’s not like it could ever happen anyway,” Toast sighed.

Thire nudged him with his shoulder. “Psssh, we all saw how her hand lingered on you. She definitely likes you.”

“Definitely,” Rhys echoed.

Toast smiled under his bucket. It might be a pipe dream, but in that moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy.

~~~

In the following weeks, you fell into a sort of routine. Toast would stop by your bakery at least once a week, sometimes more depending on his free time. And you cherished every moment you got to spend with him. Sometimes he would bring fellow members of the guard along, and every visit ended with your stomach cramping from how much you’d laughed at their various antics. You were confused how such a chaotic bunch of individuals were able to come together as an effective police force… that is until you met Commander Fox. His talent for wrangling them deserved a medal in your opinion.

As much as you enjoyed his brothers, you really looked forward to the times where you and Toast were alone together. He’d always come to you with some wild story of an eccentric prisoner or a crazy heist perpetrated in the lower levels. Honestly you hadn’t expected him to be such a gossip, but you were hardly complaining.

In return for his stories you started teaching him how to bake. It started off with him just watching you work as he talked, sometimes asking questions about what you were doing or peaking over your shoulder to get a closer look. Eventually he became an assistant of sorts, spending his time grabbing ingredients for you and washing the dishes once you were done with them.

Today was the day you were going to convince him to bake a loaf of bread with you. You were going to start him off with a simple loaf of white bread, one that didn’t require much kneading and didn’t have a long proving time. You had already pulled out all the ingredients, bowls, and utensils and were waiting patiently for him to arrive.

By the time you heard the bell ring and saw him coming through the door, you were tapping your foot in anticipation. He wasn’t late - in fact he was right on time as always - but you were just itching to see him.

“Toast! You’re here!” Ugh, that was the best greeting you could come up with? you cringed internally. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your banal greeting, a smile on his lips as he pulled his bucket over his head and placed it on a nearby shelf. You found yourself longing for a reality where he greeted you with a peck on the lips along with that sweet smile. Maker, you had it bad for him.

His eyes flashed over to the ingredients on the counter. “What are you making today?”

“I’m not making anything today. But we are. I think it's time for you to try your hand at baking. And in honor of your love of toast, we’re starting off with bread.”

He rolled his eyes at that, but the corner of his mouth still quirked up, showing off one of his dimples. “Isn’t bread kind of hard to make though? Maybe we should start out with something simpler…”

“Where’s your courage, soldier?” you teased, poking a finger at his chest. He huffed and you laughed. “Now c’mon, wash your hands and get your apron on.”

He ended up taking the top half of his armor off, in only his blacks from the waist up, his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. You were half thankful and half disappointed the apron covered the way his form fitting shirt stretched across his chest. At least you wouldn’t be distracted, but boy oh boy did you want a closer look.

The two of you chatted about your days as you started working on each of your loaves. With so few ingredients the process went quick, and soon enough you were kneading the dough.

“Now this is called the slap and fold technique. First get your dough together in a ball like this… and then you slap it down!” You demonstrated by taking your lump of wet dough and slapping it down on the table. “Then you just fold it in half and repeat. We need to do it for about five minutes.”

“I think you mean we knead to do it for five minutes,” Toast said with a cheeky grin.

“Blegh. Terrible.” You flicked a bit of flour at him as punishment. “I think you knead to be locked up for that pun.” Toast just laughed and continued working, the smile on his face never dropping.

Once you were ready, you shaped both of the loaves and put them in the oven. When you turned back to him you couldn’t help but giggle. He was absolutely covered in flour.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, face suddenly becoming serious.

You stepped close to him and brushed his face clean with your thumb. “On your face, in your hair, on your shirt. I think you managed to get flour everywhere except the apron.”

“Well you were the one throwing it at me!” came his retort as he used his hands to shake his hair out, turning it from grey back to its lovely dark color.

“Touché. Now let me help you get cleaned up. I think you got some on your back. Somehow.” You grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink and started using it to wipe the flour off his clothes.

“It’s one of my many skills from cadet training.” He told you, eyes twinkling, as you dabbed at a spot you missed on his face. You could feel his lips moving as he spoke. Stop thinking about how soft they probably are, you chided yourself.

“You’re just lucky you’re so charming.”

That made him blush and avert his eyes, which would have been cute if you weren’t worried you’d gone a bit too far. You didn’t want to embarrass him or anything. You had thought the two of you were flirting, but maybe you read the situation wrong. You were notoriously bad in the romance department, something Vella had told you after the third time you had missed a customer trying to flirt with you.

Toast cleared his throat before turning back to you. He noticed you’d stepped back away from him and sighed internally. That would have been the perfect time to kiss you or ask you out or something. Anything other than dancing around each other like you two were doing now. Despite the fact that his brothers believed you two were already together - no matter how much he protested - he still wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. He had his suspicions, but what if he was wrong? You were his only friend outside of his brothers and he didn’t want to do anything to mess that up or make it awkward.

He thanked the Maker you didn’t tease him, just turning and starting to wash the dishes. He grabbed a bowl and joined you at the big industrial sink, dunking his hands in the warm sudsy mixture and used the sponge to start scrubbing at the stubborn bits of dough that refused to come off. The two of you worked in silence, though not an uncomfortable one, Toast was glad to find. Just as he was finishing drying the last bowl, he remembered something.

“Oh, uh, I almost forgot. Do you know Senator Amidala?”

“Not personally, but I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, she is throwing a banquet or something in a few days and the bakery that was supposed to handle the desserts fell through at the last minute. Thorn suggested you as a replacement and asked me to ask you if it was possible.”

“Hmm. It depends on how long I’d have, and what kind of desserts she wants. Plus how many guests she’s having. I’m not saying no, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. It’s just me, Vella, and two others on staff.” You had started pacing, already running the logistics through your head.

“What if me and the rest of the guard helped you?”

You paused your pacing to look at him. “That could work… but would you all even be able to take off work?”

“Well, it’s been pretty slow this week and we’re spending most of our time getting ready for the party…” You responded with a noncommittal hum so he pressed on. “How about I call Senator Amidala and Commander Fox on the coms and we can get everything worked out?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

For the next twenty minutes you hashed out the details with Senator Amidala - Padmé, she insisted you call her - and Commander Fox. Eventually you settled on an order of one large, four-tiered cake and a hundred little fruit tarts. Fox had been hesitant to lend out his troopers until Padmé had offered to replace the old coffee machine in the guard’s office. The party was in three days, so it would be a tight deadline, but you were sure you could do it. Especially with the guard’s help. There was also the motivating factor of the hefty payment Padmé was offering. It would be enough for you to buy an army of cleaning robots!

As soon as you hung up you were already placing an order of the ingredients and messaging your employees to tell them about the job. You were so focused on your task that you jumped with the oven’s timer dinged. Toast stifled a chuckle behind his hand and you shot him a look as you pulled both loaves of bread out of the oven. Both loaves were a perfect golden brown and looked absolutely delicious.

Toast hovered over your shoulder as you placed the bread on the cooling rack, and you had to slap his hand away a few times as you waited for them to cool. Once you could hold them safely in your hands, you handed Toast his loaf and took yours in your hands. “C’mon, let’s take a picture together with our bread.” You tucked yourself into his side and held your loaf up as he snapped the picture.

Once you were satisfied with the picture you relented to his puppy-dog eyes and cut into the bread. You both slathered a piece in butter and tapped them together as if they were wine glasses before taking a bite.

“Mmmmmhhh,” you both groaned in unison at the first bite of warm bread. There was nothing better.

“This is so good.” You mumbled in between bites.

“So much better than anything in the caf.” Toast agreed, his eyes half-closed in bliss. Before you missed it, you snapped a picture. Toast with his toast. It was perfect.

~~~

You stared at the sight of the twenty clone troopers in front of you, decked out in aprons and hair nets, standing at parade rest in a line as Commander Fox, also in an apron, paced back and forth, hands behind his back, as he gave them their orders.

“Now I want you all on your best behavior. It may seem like you’re on a break, but I want you to treat this as if you’re still on the clock,” He stopped pacing and turned to his men, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir!” They all responded with a salute.

You took that moment to snap a picture of them all, Fox’s head snapping towards you at the click of the camera. “I want to remember this,” you told him, fighting back a smile.

You turned to Padmé, who had insisted on coming to help out herself, bringing along her two droids and a Jedi to offer some extra hands. She came complete with a chic outfit for the occasion and you envied how good she looked at six in the morning. You showed her the picture and she asked, “Can you send that to me?” Fox huffed loudly and the two of you broke out into a fit of giggles.

Once you got a hold of yourself you started listing out tasks that needed to be done to Fox. “We’ll need people to clean and cut the fruit for the tarts. Another group can help with mixing and cutting the crust. For the cake, we’ll also need one group handling the batter, and another the frosting and decorations. And we can rotate who is on dish duty.”

Fox immediately started delegating out tasks to his troops and you assigned a member of your staff to help each group. Everyone quickly scrambled to start working on their tasks, the troopers clearly very excited to help.

Throughout the day you flitted from group to group, demonstrating how to do things when needed. Your employees were handling everything so well and you made a reminder to yourself to give them a nice bonus after this. You stepped away from where Vella was showing the boys how to make flowers out of frosting and found Toast lecturing his brothers about the right way to measure flour.

“You can’t just scoop it out straight from the bag, you’ll use too much that way. You have to sift it in like this,” He started demonstrating the proper technique for them, and you noticed he had somehow managed to get flour all over himself again.

“Good job, Toast,” You said as you passed him, brushing the flour out of his hair as you went. “Keep up the great work, boys!” You gave them a thumbs up and moved onto the next group, dodging the R2 unit as it made a beeline to the fridge, a tray of freshly cut fruit balanced on its head.

The next two days passed by smoother than you could have hoped. There were only a few minor incidents. Hound tripping over R2 and spilling some batter, Thorn having to scold Jek and Rhys for eating half of their frosting. Nothing you couldn't handle. Commander Fox had everyone working like a well oiled machine, making sure everything stayed on time. Throughout both days, Padmé’s protocol droid busied himself with taking pictures of the event, and Padmé promised to send them all to you after the party.

It got down to the wire, but you managed to put the last slice of jogan fruit on the hundredth tart with forty-five minutes to spare. Your employees handled loading everything up into the speeder to take them to the venue. You watched them out of the corner of your eye to make sure things went smoothly. Padmé came up to you and thanked you profusely for rushing such a huge order and promised to promote your business to all her friends before she and the rest of her entourage hopped into the speeder with your employees and took off for the party.

You turned back to the clone troopers, who had already finished washing up most of the kitchen. “Don’t worry about the rest, guys, I’ve got it. You should probably start heading back and start getting ready.”

“Trying to kick us out so soon?” Fox mused.

You laughed. “Actually, before you go, I have a little surprise for you all. As a way to say thank you and as a pick me up before the party. I know those things can be tiring.” You went and retrieved the gift you had stayed up all last night working on, keeping it behind your back until you were right in front of them.

You held out a plate of cookies shaped like their helmets, each one customized to look like the helmet of each of the troopers there. You had recruited C3-PO to take reference pictures of all of their helmets while they were working, and the droid had really pulled through for you, even managing to get detail shots for you.

“Woah, are these our helmets?” Stone asked as you handed him his cookie.

“Look, it’s me.” Thorn said to Fox as he waggled his cookie in front of his brother’s face. Fox rolled his eyes but even he couldn’t fight his smile away.

You beamed as each of the troopers examined their cookies and thanked you for them. They all groaned as you forced them to get together for one last picture and the shutter had barely flashed before they were scarfing down the cookies.

Once they were done, Fox and Thorn started hoarding the group through the door. Before Toast could follow his brothers, Fox turned to him, “You stay here and help out with the rest of the clean up.”

Toast blinked for a moment before he responded with a “Yes, sir.”

He waited until he was sure the last of his vode were out the door before he turned to you. He planned on saying something funny or romantic, but all his words failed him as you launched yourself at him and pulled him into a big hug. “Thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.” You told him, your voice muffled from your spot pressed against his chest. He returned the hug and rested his cheek against the top of your head.

You couldn’t be sure if it was him who tilted his head down or you who tilted your head up, but you soon found yourselves nose to nose. Maybe sleep deprivation lowered your inhibitions, because you soon found yourself raising up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his. His arms tightened around you as he returned the kiss, letting out a groan as you both melted into each other. It started off sweet and gentle, but quickly developed into something more heated as you swept your tongue across the seam of his lips. He let out another tortured whine as he opened his mouth up to you, pulling you flush against him with one hand falling down to grab your ass while the other hitched your leg over his hip.

Eventually you needed to come up for air and reluctantly parted from him, a blush rising to your cheeks as the string of saliva that connected you broke and dribbled down your chin. He wiped it away with his thumb before bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The two of you stayed like that for a while, gazing into each other's eyes as you caught your breath.

You brought up one of your hands to brush a bit of flour out of his eyebrow. “You managed to get flour on you somehow. I don’t think we even used flour today.”

He grinned at you. “It’s one of my many charms.”

You giggled and pulled him back in for another kiss. Your lips had just met when you heard a camera shutter go off and you both whipped your heads around to the source of the noise.

Vella stood in the doorway to the kitchen, camera raised and a shit-eating grin on her face. “Haha, I knew it! Thire owes me ten credits!”

Both of you blinked at each other for a moment before joining in with her laughter.

#toast clone #clone trooper toast #toast x reader #toast clone x reader #clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #reader insert #won't fade into the background #fun fact: toasts ct number is the year sliced bread was invented

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thebiggestshrimp · 3 years

Text

A Special “Souvenir”: part 4

NSFW (finally)

MLQC: Victor X MC (featuring Kiro)

Potential Spoilers!! smut and fluff! The last three parts were world building fluff, yk basically my headcannon. If you like smut that has established characters with relationships, then this is for you!!

Perspective Switches: I like to occasionally switch the perspective to one of the boys, in this case being Victor and Kiro. You’ll notice it when there is a double space break in the flow of the story. All I’m doing is switching to what I think would be a more interesting perspective to read the events from. When the double space ends, we switch back to MC perspective.

Word Count: 3.1k (oh man)

Part 3 link

Part 4

“What would the lovely couple like to order today?” questioned the always smiling Mr. Mills.

Calling you two a couple shocked you, and Kiro too by the way his knee jerked and slammed into the table. You thought you heard a grunt from the kitchen, thinking it was funny even Victor was bothered by that simple statement.

“Ahhh, can we have another minute or so?” Kiro said in a slightly pained voice, attempting to convince you he didn’t just hit his knee on the table. “There are just so many delicious options and I’m having trouble deciding”.

Mr. Mills warm smile never faded as he spoke. “No worries, I’ll come back in a few minutes then.”

Although you were having the same problem as Kiro, you knew for sure you wanted some of Victor’s pudding. It had been 2 months since you last convinced him to make you a bowl, using the fact that he called your report “Alright” instead of “Not bad” as reason enough to reward you.

You only just now realized you had forgotten to correct Mr. Mills on his incorrect assumption that you and Kiro are dating. It was already too late to say anything, and denying it now would make things awkward. Besides, you knew that you were here to platonically enjoy dinner with your friend, so what others say shouldn’t bother you.

Oh but how it does bother you.

You looked towards the kitchen, wondering what payment Victor had in mind for the two of you. You were thinking he’d make you run to the market to pick him some fresh produce like last time. But then again last time you two had a moment. Or well, you thought you did.

The way that question accidently slipped from your lips. The way his eyes lingered on yours for so long while he inched ever so closer to you.

“Victor, have you ever been with someone from work?”

You felt your breathing slow a bit; you were nervous. He was your boss, and you had figured he would never consider you since you worked together, and well, because you were pretty sure he didn’t think of you in any way besides a friend.

But that one moment made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he reciprocated your feelings, even if it was just a little.

Coming back from your daydreaming, you realized Mr. Mills had returned. Kiro’s voice was directed to you.

“______, is it okay if I order for us both? I think I have a good idea of what you’d like”.

“Oh, yes, that would be fine, thank you”.

You once again turned your head towards the kitchen, swearing you caught a glimpse of the elusive chef. You were itching to see him, even though you were not excited to hear him complain about how you failed to turn in your report.

“Does that sound good with you, ________?”

You snapped your head back to Kiro, and shook it. What did you just agree to?

The wait for the meal was tedious. It wasn’t like you didn’t have anything to talk to Kiro about, but because you were already so distracted by the semi-lewd thoughts of your boss, your heart wasn’t really in the conversation.

Kiro noticed this, wondering what he was doing wrong to make you this uninterested in him. He quickly decided to change the topic to something he figured you’d like better.

“How was the producing of the last Miracle Finder Show? I watched it while I was in Iceland and knew it had to be a soul crushing production”.

This finally did get your attention, finally able to vent about all the hard work and late (and you mean late) nights spent at the office making sure it was as perfect as it could be. Even though the production was, as Kiro put it, a bit “soul crushing”, it was worth it to see how popular it was with the audience.

“Honestly, that’s my favorite show we’ve ever produced. It took a lot of effort from the whole team, and everyone really pulled through to get this as perfect as possible”

You rambled on and on, barely letting Kiro say anymore then “Mmhmm” and “Oh wow”, but he was ecstatic to get you talking like this, especially since he knew.

He knew you had feelings for your boss. He had realized it when you told him you were busy the Saturday he tried to ask you out “on a date” to the park. He decided to head out to the park anyway (in disguise) and spotted the two of you. The stoic look on the CEO’s face made it hard to judge how he felt, but the fact that he was even out with you was enough to know that he definitely felt something. And God dammnit, why was he so handsome?

But when he saw your face, the way you smiled at him and the subtle touches shared between you. He knew how you felt. So why didn’t you look at him like that? What was the CEO doing right that he wasn’t?

He would find out. And he would change your mind. He wanted you and he would get you.

Mr. Mills was masterfully carrying three trays of food, each holding a delicious meal hand prepared by Victor. He was in the kitchen, cleaning up and preparing to finish up by making his pudding. The creamy yet almost jiggly consistency was enough to melt the tastebuds of anyone who ate it, including Victor. But tonight, he was careful making it (adding in a tad bit more love then normal, although Victor would deny it), adding two cherries on top just for you. He stored it in the fridge, hidden behind a few of his ingredients so that it would surprise you. While sweeping the floor, he overheard some conversation between Kiro and you. It seems he had gotten you talking about work, and now all he could hear was your rambling on how stressed out you were while working the last month.

He was hoping you weren’t openly bad-mouthing him to a stranger, but knew you wouldn’t have anything truly hurtful to say about him.

He smiled thinking about how he would make you pay for your meal.

“I can’t believe you let me ramble for like, 20 minutes Kiro! It’s embarrassing to just vent in public like this!” You half-whispered jokingly to Kiro.

Kiro smiled that celebrity smile of his. “Mmm, but you it was so cute to listen to you. Besides, isn’t it the job of a friend to always listen to another?” He then playfully kicked your leg under the table.

“Hey!” you said with a giggle. “We’re at a restaurant! Save the childish actions for the park”. Even though you said it a bit of a harsh tone, he smiled mischievously. Then the barrage started.

Playful kick after kick came from Kiro. You finally gave in and played his game, sending your patented “double-kick” his way. The fight ended with the two of you laughing hysterically, just like children.

When you calmed down a bit, you put your head in your hands and looked at Kiro. He was completely caught off guard by how cute you looked right now. He looked to the right for a moment, although all he wanted to do was strip you of all your clothes and turn you around on this table and smother you with kisses and-

“Well, I guess it’s time to pay, you know, figure out what “punishment” the chef has in store for us”.

Coming back from his daydream, Kiro nodded in agreement.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom real quick, but go ahead and call Mr. Mills over so we can receive our ‘punishment’”. He enunciated ‘punishment’ with air quotes and a wink.

With an already hard member, Kiro speed walked to the bathroom. He had to get rid of this fast.

Alone with your thoughts, you sat there for a moment, thinking that you had forgotten something. Shaking it off, you called Mr. Mills over and told him you and Kiro had finished your meals.

“I’ll take you and your dates dishes for you then” said Mr. Mills.

With a face full of red, you quickly corrected him. “Oh but we’re just friends! I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier”.

Mr. Mills only looked at you with a smile, and nodded saying “Of course, sorry for my mistake”. Skillfully holding the dishes in his hands, he turned towards the kitchen and remarked, “The chef will be glad to hear that”.

A bit confused by what he meant, you waited for Kiro to return, or for Mr. Mills to tell you what the chef had in mind as payment. Mr. Mills returned first.

“The chef has decided that you will be coming back to help in the kitchen, Mrs. ______”. He looked around for a second, and added, “I’ll wait here for your friend to return so that I may tell him what his payment will be”.

You felt bad that you had to leave without being able to talk to Kiro more, but your mind quickly switched over to the verbal abuse you might receive from your boss when he reminds you of your missing report.

You walk into the kitchen to a familiar, sexy voice.

“Glad you could make it”.

You met with a pair of gorgeous violet eyes, lingering on them for a moment too long. You blushed and turned your head to the countertop, pretending like he wasn’t the most interesting thing to look at.

You decided to open up with the report, figuring that apologizing while he seemed to be in a good mood was the best move.

“So, uh, I may have forgotten to get the report to you before 5 PM today, but don’t worry I have it now and can get it before I leave or right now if you-”.

Victor waved his hand, cutting you off. “Don’t bother, I wasn’t at the office all day, so you would never have been able to give it to me anyhow. However, I expect that report to be in my hands at 8 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning”.

You unintentionally let out a sigh, glad that he wasn’t angry. You felt that you could finally relax. As tired as you were, you were ready to finish whatever Victor had in mind and head home for the most peaceful sleep you could imagine.

“Open the fridge”. Said a particularly demanding voice.

You open the French door refridgerator, bending over to look inside, realizing you don’t actually know what he wants you to look at.

Little do you know, Victor was admiring the curves of your body, which lead into your rather plump ass. Before you turned around, he handed you a list.

“These are ingredients that I need for making my pudding, make sure I have enough of each”.

Shuffling through some of the products in his fridge, you notice a delicious looking dessert hidden in the back.

“Oh my god, Victor did you make pudding?!” You couldn’t hold back your excitement, reaching for the pudding to take it out.

Seeing your childlike reaction made Victor smile, which you turned around just in time to see. Blushing for the umpteenth time today, you thanked him for making your favorite.

“It’s for you to take home. Remember, you haven’t paid for your meal yet”.

You look up at him expectantly, thinking he would have you clean the dishes or mop the floor. Instead, he steps closer to you, and leans down so that you are both eye level.

You freeze, feeling his breath on your skin, the eye contact between you never breaking. You felt like you could feel the tension in the air. Victor finally broke it.

“I just have a few questions for you. That will be your payment”.

You nodded, still frozen.

“Please be honest with me, right now we are friends, Victor and _______, not boss and coworker.”

You only continued to look at his pretty violet eyes. He seemed a bit anxious. It felt like he wasn’t completely confident in himself, unlike how he always appeared at work.

He let out a sigh. “Dummy”.

He continued. “I like you”.

Your mouth dropped in shock. Did Victor just say he likes me?? Did he seriously say that? What?

You didn’t know how to say what you were thinking, but you knew just how you felt. You were estatic to hear that he felt the same. Oh what a wonderful end to your day.

“Victor I, I feel the same. I just thought that you didn’t feel the same and that if I admitted my feelings you would shut me down for being unprofessional and that it might ruin...”

Victor’s eyes told you to be quiet. A smile crept onto Victor’s face, and a laugh escaped you. You rambled again, how embarrassing.

Victor took a step away from you, allowing you room to breathe. You thought you were finished with your payment, but little did you know what Victor had in mind.

“I guess I should go see if Kiro is finished with whatever task you handed him, he is my ride home after all”.

Victor folded his arms, leaning on the countertop. “Dummy, I don’t remember saying that you had paid for your meal. Come here”.

You turned around, nervously. Did he want a kiss? Was this how he wanted to officially start your relationship? I thought we would talk about it some more privately.

You stepped right in front of him, looking up at him. The height difference forced you to strain your neck to meet his gaze.

Victor’s voice lingered in the air. “Do you want to have some fun before I send you home?”

Unsure of what he meant, you nodded.

With your consent, he picked you up and lightly set you on his countertop, leaning over to place kisses on your lips. He moved to your neck, loosening his tie. He gently pushed your legs a part, nibbling at your panties. You could feel how wet he was making you. Victor reached up your thighs, his big hands gripping them tightly. He wrapped his pinkies around your panties, pulling them down and past your feet.

You heard a low throaty growl come from Victor, and it only turned you on more. He flicked his tongue on your clit. The tingling sensation made your body move erratically. He looked up at you, a smile clearly visible on his handsome face. He continued teasing your slick with his fingers and tongue, occasionally fighting the urge to reach down and grope himself.

“Can I put my fingers in?”

You only moaned in response.

Victor stopped all movement and met your eyes.

“I want a yes from you before I continue”. His tone was demanding, almost hungry sounding.

Flushed red, you opened your mouth to meekly say, “Yes, please Victor”.

He moved his hands back to your slick, slowly positioning his fingers to your entrance. Gently, he pushed his index finger in. The high-pitched moan let Victor know you were having fun.

“Good”, He said through a smile. “I’m glad I can make you feel this good with nothing but my fingers, but next time you’ll repay the favor to me”.

Victor prepared to put in his middle finger, but suddenly you spoke up.

“More, I want more of you...”

Elated to hear your excitement, he put in four fingers, using his middle and ring finger to hit your pleasure spot. Rubbing it slowly, then picking up his pace when your moans quieted down. With his tongue he licked and sucked on your clit, bringing wave after wave of pleasure.

Although you were no stranger to sex, you were pretty sure you had never cum before. You pretended, because you really didn’t want to make your ex’s feel like they were inadequate, but here, right now with Victor, he completely blew everyone else away. You didn’t know what it felt like to be on the edge, usually being too tired after work to commit to your full pleasure. But the erotic feelings deep in your core made it impossible to focus on anything.

You only knew what you wanted right now.

Fighting the “growing” urge to touch himself, Victor focused on making you cum. He wanted you, he wanted to fill you up and refuse to stop until he chased his own release. But right now, he wanted to make you feel so satisfied that you would come back for more immediately.

Besides, Victor felt that truly intimate sex should be saved for the bedroom, especially the first couple of times. But that wasn’t going to stop him from making you cum now.

You were nearly there, unintentionally squeezing your walls around his fingers. You had asked him to stop, not really meaning it, but because you were so unfamiliar with this foreign feeling your brain was begging for the pleasure to end. You only wanted this to end in one way though, and so did Victor.

“Oh god, oh god, oh myyy, Victor!!!” He only continued with his motions, never ceasing.

You lost all thought, unaware of how loud you were being. “I’m gonna cum, ohhh!”

Nothing but pleasure ran through your mind, your legs shaking around Victor. You had closed your eyes, breathing heavily, attempting to calm down. Once your breathing slowed, and your made eye contact with Victor, he fully removed his fingers and stood up. He went to grab a towel from the drawer, wiping his face and fingers clean before handing it to you.

Victor was grinning, trying and failing to hide it. “I hope that this experience was satisfactory for you”.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous comment. He knew you enjoyed yourself.

“Well, this was quite the start to our relationship, I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow then?”

“Mmm, you will. I’m sure your friend is waiting at his car for you”.

A bit sad to leave, you grabbed your purse and started to walk out, wen Victor’s hand met yours.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Confused, you cluelessly blinked at him.

He let out his second sigh of the day (ever since you’d met, you had been keeping track of the number of times he would sigh when talking to you). “Dummy, you’re leaving the pudding I worked so hard to make for you”.

Embarrassed, you took the cute little bag he had put it in and then turned to leave.

Behind you Victor’s voice, as sexy and suave as it was, left you with one last comment.

“When you eat my pudding later, let it be a reminder to you of what happened here today”. He let out a mischievous laugh. “A souvenir, if you will”.

I seriously have to apologize for leaving yall hanging for like a month! I was very busy and rarely found time to work on this, so thank you for being patient and I hope yall like it ;)

#mlqc fanfic #mlqc smut #mlqc victor #mlqc mc #pleaseforgivemeforslackinglikethis #mlqc souvenir #mlqc kiro #mlqc fluff

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deadinside-butstill-horny · 4 years

Text

The Night We Met

Part Three - Most Of You

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 10k - Word count got away from me.

Summary: We learn a little about Y/N’s past. Tequila is involved and inhibitions lowered.

Content Warnings: Mentions of death, themes of PTSD,18+ SMUT warning, oral, fingering, dirty talk, penetrative sex. Lots and lots of consent, cause consent is sexy and you know our boy Javi is nothing if not respectful.

MASTERLIST

AO3

Author Note: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s absolutely just porn with minor plot but I have no regrets.

Got the gif from this photo set during the week because THAT’S THE SMILE I’M ON ABOUT. That cute as fuck half smile; it melts my heart.

Part One - Part Two

It just so happened that when Javier decided to stop trying to seduce you, the two of you could actually be around one another and have a good time. Well, not quite as good as that night. But in the grand scheme of things; good-ish.

After the debauchery that had occurred outside of the church the two of you had ceremonially agreed to a ceasefire on all hostilities with your second meeting. You were equal parts surprised and disappointed that Javier had been on his best behaviour, the two of you had successfully bought the ingredients and were currently producing what was sure to be a decent breakfast without either of you ending up naked.

He was the picture of domesticity as he sat on the counter top with a beer in his hand at 8:15am as you whisked some eggs in a bowl using a fork, you paused for a moment, taking a sip of your own beverage, then resuming your task as you threw the eggs into the too hot pan making them sizzle on the skillet.

"No, no, no, no." Javier cried and pushed himself off of the counter as he tutted, coming to your side and placing his hand on the curve of your waist to move you out of his way. His hand slithers forward and lingers a second on your own fingers before he takes the spatula and puts space between the two of you to manage the task at hand.

For a moment, you're perplexed. The movement itself wasn't particularly invasive or breaking from the gentlemanly persona he had adopted in the last two hours, but rather it was an act of, well, familiarity. Which reason dictates simply shouldn’t exist between the two of you.

You had known each other for a grand total of 48 hours and that was being generous as you had been comatosed for easily 15 of those. He had a bad habit of popping up when you least expected it and disarming you with an easy smile.

You didn’t like how he made you feel. Everything you said, you measured his reaction, a pull of his lip, a flash of his teeth or a narrow of his brow; these were his tells, well his obvious ones.

You tried desperately to convince yourself that this was platonic analysis. It would seem you could kid Javier but you couldn’t trick yourself. You felt things for the man that you really shouldn’t after knowing him for two days. You were frustrated with the situation, he’d slept with another woman hours after your encounter. You were jealous, sure, but not betrayed.

It was a matter of pride, that evening had somewhat extinguished the fire for the bronzed man who was currently trying to save the eggs you’d flash fried. What you were experiencing were embers. Yes, embers. The fire hadn’t completely been doused and all you had was a residual heat. A deep glowing burning heat, sure. But eventually reality would be sure to dump some more water on this fire and you wouldn’t feel this lingering need for the man, right?

“¡Espero que te gusten los huevos calientes!” Javier hollered over the sizzling with a smirk on his face as he scraped at the pan with the instrument he’d stolen from you.

“Eggs and Hot? That’s all I got!” You question a smile warming your face, apparently his enthusiasm was contagious.

He chuckled at your words and nodded, “Tu español no es tan malo linda dama!”

“I got nothin’ besides español,'' you shrug. Javier let out another snicker, he seemed to laugh a lot but he was missing the soft wrinkles bracketing his mustache which made you think that maybe this wasn’t his natural state. There was a light silence whilst he sliced the loaf of bread you’d picked from the store. As you were setting the table your book caught your eye from its place on the coffee table and you couldn’t resist trying out some of your newly learnt infant level language.

“Hola Javier, mi nombre es Y/N. Mi color favorito es el Y/F/C.¡Me gustan los perros!”

(My name is Y/N, My Favourite colour is Y/F/C. I like dogs!)

Javier turned around his expression; a picture of incredulousness. His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, his mustache almost touching his nose as you got a view of his brilliant white teeth in a genuine honest to god grin. If you had a camera, you’d have captured that moment.

“I’ll have to be careful around you, huh, sunshine? These new Spanish skills of yours could get me into trouble.”

“Bailar es divertido!” You exclaim using the only Spanish phrase you know.

“What?...Dancing is fun?... Where the hell did you learn this stuff?”

“Español … para... niños”

“Española para niñas” Javier corrected helpful “Unless you’ve got something you need to tell me...”

“Damn! The masculine and feminine, they briefly touched upon the theory in Spanish for Kids. It wasn’t as in depth as you might think though.” You joke with a huff. “Hey, do you know where I can get a better translating book?”

“Learning Spanish, huh? How long are you plannin’ on staying exactly?” You jump at the addition of a third voice, Steve appears looking thoroughly rested with his voice two octaves lower than it should be.

“Well ya’ know Stevie, it’s pretty ignorant to not learn a little of the language of the country you’re in.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Steve points out, you’d hoped he would give in and let it go considering Javier was here. Though seeing as he greeted his partner whilst grabbing a cup of coffee before turning expectantly towards yourself, your chances of skirting around the subject seemed slim.

“I don’t have any commitments at home, not like I got the hospital waiting for me to come back. So... I’mma stay… ya know … live a little!”

“Gillian? She’s not waiting for you?”

“Nah, I quit.”

“You quit?! It took you fuckin’ ages to get that job.”

“Stevie, If I have to clean up puke in a fucking grocery store once more. I honestly don't think I can take it- don’t look at me like that. Three times is three times too many!”

“You’re fuckin’ out of your mind. This isn’t a holiday.”

“No, but I need some change, you clearly need to get your ass kicked back in line. We both win! If you help me get a job it’ll be great… I can practically speak Spanish already....”

“I dispute that.” Javier piped up.

“Shut up.” You say as you throw the tea towel at him. “Look Stevie. Everything’s fine. You were fine with Connie and Olivia being here. I’m a grown ass woman.” There was silence as Javier continued moving around the kitchen, only this lull was a little heavier, you chalk it up to you being the youngest and the only girl in a family with three brothers. God knows they’d been benching you your entire life.

“Fine.” Steve huffed and sat down at the table as you and Javier served up. The man in question gave you a conspiratorial wink as you passed one another. Nothing more was said on the matter as you tucked into breakfast. Infact, pleasant conversation was kept up all through the meal until it came time for Javier and Steve to go.

“We gotta get into the embassy. Heard rumours the new boss starts soon and we need to get our ducks in a row.” Steve nodded to Javier's words. “You ready to get back in the ring?”

“Been ready for the past two weeks, man. This leave of absence was bullshit”

Steve grabs his coat as you watch expectantly, waiting for your invite to the boys club, that inevitably doesn’t come. Instead you receive a much more in character; “Stay in the apartment, for god sakes Y/N. Just for today. I’ve left my number on the pad if you need me.”

You nod noncommittally and combined with a shrug the action hits its mark as Steve sighs.

“This isn’t funny. Bogotá isn’t safe for you.” You repeat your action, this time without the shrug. He huffs but carries on out of the door, he must have realised that was as much as an acquiescence as he was going to recieve, Javier follows him but stops on the threshold.

“Te encontraré ese libro, Guapa.” He calls out before closing the door behind him.

“no hablo español, motherfucker!” You shout after him, you vaguely hear his warm chortle as he descends down the stairs. With your legs propped up on the chair in front of you, you huff and look around the room. The absolute assholes had left you with the washing up. Yeah, feminism was definitely taking a hit during your time in Colombia.

Apparently the agents hadn’t got the memo about the change in gender roles, you cursed their names as you turned on the radio to some latin music and began the arduous process of cleaning the entire kitchen, including the appliances and counters you hadn’t even used.

You then moved onto the lounge, hey, if you were going to play the role of housewife, you were going to at least be a good one. You hoovered, reorganised and dusted your ass off for at least three-ish hours before you got bored, abandoning your work for snooping, you were only human after all.

First you looked in the medicine cabinet and found nothing good, I mean, you don’t know what crazy drugs you were expecting your brother, the DEA agent, to have in his possession but you were crestfallen with the dull discovery of a spare toothpaste, American xanax and ‘aspirina bebé’.

With a lamentful sigh you took your sleuthing into the bedroom, pulling his bedside drawer open with a hesitant hand. You don’t know what dark sexual preferences your brother and Connie may or may not have and you didn’t want to risk permanent scarring. As you open it fully you glance inside remaining tentative, your eyes first fall on the badge left behind. He must have forgotten it. You take it out and place it on the bed beside you as you continue to investigate.

Your hands find a wad of folded yellow notepad paper, the jagged edges have been ripped from the main pad in frustration. Unfolding the wad, you do a once over of the sheet in front of you. The words ‘Dear Connie,’ make you halt in your sted. Finding a gimp mask or weed was funny, this however crossed a line. So you placed the notes back where you found them, you turned to grab the badge and place it back on top of the pile but as the light shone on the metal an idea sprung to mind.

To say you were famed for your impulse control issues was an understatement. You often acted first with no regard for the consequences, hence your presence in Colombia and your extensive shoe collection. But as you drove your brother's Jeep through the streets of Bogotá, you realised that you may finally push Steve over the edge. Already in too deep you took the final turn, following the map you had spread out on the passenger side and were greeted with the American flag. Eureka. You had taken an embarrassing amount of wrong turns but had finally arrived.

You pulled up to the barrier and smiled at the Colombian guard donned in a dark green uniform.

“Hola, Agent Murphy DEA asked me to drop off his badge.” You wiggle the object of your deceit in his eye line.

“Identification?” The guard asked in heavily accented English. You shut off the car's engine as you turn to your purse and pull your driver's license out and hand it over. He inspects the plastic, looking between you and the ID before nodding and handing it back to you, definitely not a social butterfly. He then waved to the gentleman controlling the barrier, allowing you access.

“DEA office is to the right. Personnel only.”

“I’ll be in and out, quick as a flash.” You reassuringly smile at the man and receive only a stony glare in return. Deciding to stop pushing the apparently limitless bounds of your dumb luck you pull through the barrier and into the car park on the right. You park up in what you hope is an unreserved space and hop out of the tall vehicle.

“Right, what's the plan again?” you mumble to yourself as you pause for a second, before starting towards the cream building and hopping up the stairs. You cling to the badge like a life raft, terrified you’ll be stopped as the imposter sight-seerer you are. Now in your defence, you knew this was dumb. Steve had an important job and distracting him wasn’t helpful in the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. Stay inside- like that was ever going to happen.

So you scoured the offices of the embassy for about fifteen minutes before you decided to break and ask for help, finally stopping an american looking woman with large stylish shoulder pads and even bigger hair.

“I’m looking for the DEA office? Steve Murphy, Javier Peña?” She seemed to bristle at the mention of the latter.

“Take that elevator to the third floor and it's the third door on the left, but watch out for Peña, he’s a real- '' She cut herself off with a huff, before nodding your way and walking off.

No shit, sister.

Following the potentially scorned woman's instructions you found yourself in the DEA Bogotá headquarters; only Steve and Javier were nowhere to be seen.

Fuck.

You looked around the room taking a slight step back getting ready to turn on your heel as an older white haired man entered the room.

“Hey Newbie, I need two copies of each of these and I need these faxed to the team in Medellín.”

“Uh-”

“I needed them there yesterday, so get to it.” He dumps the two huge piles of files into your arms as you stare at him bemused. Looking back you still don’t know why you didn’t say anything, but you rolled up your sleeves and whipped out that can-do attitude and got to work, at what was apparently your new guerilla admin job. And that is how Javier and Steve found you two hours later, fighting with a fax machine and on the phone to the office in Medellín.

“No- I understand how the machine works… Yes… Yes I’ve turned it off and on, I think the problems on your side… No I don’t- Well Weaver needed the case file there yesterday so you need to figure something out! Yes… Yes I’ll hold. “ You turned when you heard steps behind you, pressing the receiver between your head and your shoulder and holding the fax machine manual.

“Hey Guys!” You say cheerily, pretending like this was completely normal, like you hadn’t just dropped into Steve’s life and then surprised him every step of the way.

“What in the hell are you-” Steve started, however the woman on the other side of the phone decided to pick up, you held up one finger to the two of them as a pause.

“Oh, Hey Salome, It’s no problem… that’s great, I'll give it a try.” You drop the manual and press the green button on the fax machine, the machine begins making the whizzing sound you’d been chasing for the past twenty minutes. “Sounds all good on my end. Right, that's great I’ll send the rest across now. Thanks, have a nice day!”

“Am I high, right now? What the fuck is going on?” Steve’s tone matched his face with the disbelief painted upon it. He had taken a seat at the desk which just so happened to be next to the fax machine and copier. Javier sat at his own in front of the typewriter with a smirk on his face lighting up a cigarette.

“Uh, well... I came to give you your badge cause’ you forgot it at home and then Weaver asked me to do some copies. Turns out that security here is pretty lax, cause’ I’ve been copying and faxing classified case files for the past two hours and no one seems to know or care that I don’t work here.” Steve’s eye all but twitched as he rubbed at his face. He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began pouring himself a glass.

“Fine.” He actually shrugged after downing the drink in one. Damn, You weren’t sure which had broken him, yourself or Colombia. “Better you’re here where I can keep tabs on you...Javi, can we get her an actual job?”

“I’ll run it by Messina,” Javier shrugged as he stood from behind his desk. “Probably best not to mention the perusal of classified cases though.”

So that’s how the three of you ended up at dinner celebrating your new job four days later, you were officially an office administrator for the DEA in Colombia, heading to the CNP base of operations in Medellín alongside your brother and his partner as their administrator, well, from what you understood, you were their dogsbody. Your Spanish speaking ability had been greatly exaggerated but you were undeniably overqualified for the position, so, pending a background check you were through doors.

Your interview with Steve and Javi’s boss; Messina, had been nerve wracking and your Murphy name had won you no favours.

You’d given it your best and from what you could see you’d managed to convince her you were worth your salt.

Yep, you’d proved yourself totally capable and more importantly, completely willing to move around 8 hours away to Medellín to live on an army base where a drug cartel was incredibly active. According to Javi this had apparently made you a very appealing hire to the DEA. As such you were being sent along with the boys to help out on the front line, well, as close to the front line as an admin/dogsbody gets.

The three of your glasses clinked in unison, before you drained your shot with a regretful gasp, Tequila was the devil.

“Thank you to Javi, for not only saving my sister from her stupidity once, but twice… or is it three times now?!” Steve lifted his second shot as he gave his heartfelt speech. Picking up the lime you’d just sucked the juice out of you launched it at him, missing by some margin. He let out what could only be described as a snigger as both him and Javi threw their second shots back.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you were wasted.

The three of you had enjoyed a meal and many, many subsequent drinks. Knowing full well the two men had a distinct advantage of having had at least a year to pickle their livers in whiskey from the stress of this place, you had insisted that for every two drinks they had, you had one. .

Still, six drinks in with no sign of stopping you felt better than you really had any right to. The room had yet to start spinning and for those small mercies, you were thankful.

“Nah, Thankyou to you both! I’ve heard Medellín is lovely this time of year!”

“Well, you won’t know. You’ll be spending all of your time on base, where it’s safe.”

“Steve-”

“Non-negotiable. You wanna come to Medellín, fine. But you do what I say, and no Y/N’s day out like in Bogotá.”

“Dude, you’re such a buzz-kill!”

“Dude? What are you 15?!” Javier jokes with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been here only a week and yet he’d managed to navigate how to defuse an impending Murphy fight from a mile away.

“You should’a seen her at 15. Those teeth!”

“Ya’ got any pictures?” Javi asks, half distracted with flagging down the waitress and showing her five fingers.

“Really Steve, you wanna go there? After the earring incident?” Javier turns his full attention on you.

“Murphy had an earring?”

“No-” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Yep, a nice little hoop.”

“I didn’t…”

“It got caught on his windbreaker and he ripped it out of his ear, it got infected.”

“Wind breaker?” Javier was biting his lip and staring at your brother, not really trying so hard to contain his laughter.

“Can’t think why I didn’t want you around, Sis. Look- I was trying something out; It didn’t work, so I moved on.” You wait a beat, allowing Javier to take in the information before you helpfully and without prompt drop a nugget of information for the Hispanic man.

“... He had to go to hospital.” A chortle burst unintentionally from Javier’s chest as your comment caught him by surprise.

“Y/N!” Steve burst out in frustration, making you cackle with glee.

“Okay, Okay.” You hold your hands in mock surrender as the waitress drops another round of drinks on the table.

“Let’s head over to the discotheque, live music- no Sicario’s. Big with Bogotá policia so very safe.” Javier pitched like he was speaking to a child as he tried to convince Steve. He knew you were in from the excitement that lit up your form.

“I don’t know, dancing-”

“Would be good for you! Come on Steve, this place is closing soon anyway-” You counter, only to be cut off as he frantically looks at his watch.

“What time is it- I promised I’d phone Con tonight- FUCK!” He stood quickly grabbing the table to steady himself and ran to the phone box just outside of the bar, you could just about see him from where you sat in the window booth besides Javi.

The two of you looked at one another for a moment, you weren’t quite at the level where conversation came easy, but you weren’t uncomfortable by any means.

“Thanks for talking to Messina for me… honestly. You’ve done so much for me since I got here.”

“Like I said, it’s no problem, guapa.” He smiles at you, not a smirk for once but a delighted easy smile that rarely graces his face. “I saw your CV.”

“Oh.” The smile drops off of your face, his eyes analyse your reaction, the easy smile replaced by a sombre expression.

“Yeah, Oh. You were a doctor, a surgeon? I thought you mopped up vomit in a grocery store in Miami?”

“It’s complicated.” You gave him no further explanation, you expected him to move on, except Javier wasn’t like other people, he didn’t make things easy. He stared at you expectantly with those deep brown questioning eyes. “Christ, okay. Yes I was in my final year of residency, not quite a surgeon.”

“How does that happen?”

“How does what happen?” You question, you know you’re being difficult but this isn’t something you’ve talked about with Steve, for Godsakes. He did that trick once more, hitting you with those soul-full eyes.

Honestly, it was lucky you weren’t working for Escobar, forget waterboarding, all Javi would have to do was look at you to get you to give up your darkest secrets. “Things didn’t go my way, I wasn’t happy there. The hours were long and that shit was heavy.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but he didn’t push any further, finally respecting your reluctance, he nodded. Stubbing out his cigarette and tilting his head towards the shots he asked “...Another?”

“Why not?” You reply hesitantly.

Taking the salt you go to shake it onto the back of your hand when a tanned one stops your movement in its wake.

“No, no, no. Let’s do it a little different.” His eyes shot up to where your brother was leaning against the phone booth before he took your hand in his. Adjusting his grip he lifts your wrist to his mouth. Your heart is beating in your ears as you watch as his pink tongue pokes out and laps one, twice at your pulse point. A long line of saliva is left on your wrist as he shakes the salt over it. His eyes meet yours for a moment, as if asking permission.

You don’t know how you even instruct your brain to nod, but regardless you carry out the action. Javi brings his mouth to your wrist once more in one solid stroke of his talented tongue, your eyes clamp closed as he finishes swiping up the salt before draining both the tequila and lime.

You’re breathing heavy as you open your eyes, to find those mahogany ones laser focused on you.

“You missed a step.” You mumble, your eyes never leaving his as you hold the lime up to his mouth, rind first. His teeth close over it and his lips just barely graze your fingertips. You turn to check on Steve, thankfully your brother has his back to the two of you, deep in conversation with Connie. Probably for the best, given your plan.

You turn sideways to face Javi, lifting one of your legs up onto the booth and bending it at the knee to get a vantage point. The alcohol coursing in your veins gives you the courage as one hand wraps around his neck and the other his shoulder, you lean forwards to give one long solitary lick up his neck, right on the pulse. You taste his sweat stained skin, salty and warm on your tongue.

Reaching for the shaker, you apply it liberally, smiling as you drop some of it down his t-shirt. Though from the stare he seemingly refused to remove from you, you don’t think he much cared. Once you considered your job done, you turned back and pushed his head to the side and began licking the salt from his neck, this time you tortured him with three small cat licks along the flesh, you felt his neck tense as his hand moved from its place on the pleather booth and wrapped around your thigh.

You reached back to the table and sank your shot. Wincing you turned back to Javier, leaning forward to grab the lime from his mouth. As you did so, he dropped it purposefully, staring directly into your eyes, a clear challenge, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you forward locking your lips in a devastating kiss. He tasted of lime, tequila and just Javier; that unexplainable component which was both sweet and smoky. His tongue plundered the depths of your mouth, seemingly uncaring of your brother who was mere metres away. Your hands roved his chest before locking in the short hair on the nape of his neck.

Unexpectedly it was Javi who broke the kiss. The two of you paused with your foreheads meeting, much like the night you met. He seemed to be trying to regain control.

“Meet me in the bathroom?” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his beautifully angular hooked one. He breathed out heavily through his nose, his eyes opening and pushing you away by your shoulders.

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you in the fucking bathrooms of a filthy fucking bar- are you crazy?” Behind his eyes a rage and arousal battled, apparently you had rattled him with your question, he reached forward for his whiskey, and took a sip whilst shaking his head and trying to centre himself. “I’m giving you whiplash? Yeah that’s real cute. You change what you want every single fuckin’ day, then look at me like I’m a dick.”

You supposed he had a point, after all you had been the one to ask for the redo and then stared at him longingly every day since. “It’s not an easy situation to navigate, ok? I came here for Steve-”

“You didn’t come here for Steve.” He uttered under his breath, staring straight ahead with his elbow perched on the table and holding the glass to his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come here for Steve, not completely. You came here for you.”

“That’s not-” Javier turns to you, locking you down with his gaze. It was easy to forget he was a cop; observative and attentive to a fault, he could call your bullshit from a mile away.

“Everything you’ve done since you got here, that’s not for him. You’re desperate for some life back in those veins. You don’t just give up being a fuckin’ surgeon and feel fulfilled with your position at a fuckin’ grocery store, Sunshine.”

“Wow, you’ve got me pegged, huh? No wonder they’ve got you after Escobar, best detective on the fucking case.” You roll your eyes refusing to look at him, sipping a beer as a way of hiding how he’s unnerved you. Everything he’s saying true and you’re ashamed of yourself.

“You don’t come down to the embassy if you’re trying to make your brother's life easier. I’m not criticizing Guapa, but how about cutting the bullshit messiah complex.”

You’re embarrassed and trying to look anywhere but him. His hand reaches for your own as Steve rounds the corner, the tanned fingers instead lock around the shot glass in front of you.

“So, what’d I miss?” Your voice is lodged in your throat, you don’t think you could speak even if you could think of the words you wanted to use. Javi answers in some nondescript way you don’t even really listen to before ordering another round of drinks.

“Y/N/N, You alright?” Steve asked, ever the concerned brother.

(your nickname)

“Yeah, Javi- uh, he saw my cv.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you still feel bad for using past trauma to make your brother skirt around the issue in the way you knew he would.

“Oh, Uh… Drink?” Steve stared at you, uneasy.

“Yeah, a drink would be great.” Your voice is monotone to even your ears, you reach forward and down the beer in front of you, desperate for this awkwardness to be over and the feeling in the pit of your stomach to vanish. You’re happy to say after around ten minutes of the two men holding up the conversation, it atleast eases slightly.

There’s a lull as you all wait drinks arrive and you have managed to regain your basic motor skills. This is the selfishness Javi is talking about. Steve needs a good night, without feeling crappy about his damaged sister stealing the lime-light. So putting your best foot forward you look across to Javi and smile.

“So, how was Connie?”

“She’s good! She’s enjoying getting back to work, her sister’s having Liv during the day.” Guilt swells in your stomach once again. You should be there making Connie’s life easier, but instead you abandoned her to play the hero in Colombia. The shame spiral is slowly clawing at your stomach, as you force yourself to take a deep breath.

“That’s good…” You’re saved by the bell, or rather the waitress bringing over the tray of beverages. Taking your beer first, you reach across and controversially take two of the shots. Both men chuckle at your bravado as Javi asks the woman for an extra shot.

The night continued on much like that, minus the regret whirlwind as the tequila seemed to help get rid of any real self reflection. The three of you didn’t even make it to the discotheque, as by the time the bar closed, the three of you began the short walk home, you were carrying the large box of pizza that you had insisted on ordering.

Surprisingly, Steve was the drunkest of your trio. His phone call with Connie had sent him into his own spiral. He began drinking tequila like it was water, to the point Javier had thrown in the towel, deciding he’d much rather like to live to see tomorrow. So with your pizza in one arm and your other wrapped around your brother's waist, you and Javi half carried Steve home and up the stairs into the apartment.

The two of you unceremoniously dumped him on his bed, carefully you placed the pizza box you had cradled to your breast on the chest of drawers before you stepped forward past Javier.

You pulled Steves boots off of his feet and pulled his legs up onto his bed, taking his belongings out his pockets; yes, including his gun, you placed them on the bedside table. You then placed a glass of water and an aspirin next to them, feeling sympathy for his head tomorrow morning.

Happy that your job was done, you shut the light off and went into the living room, once again cradling the pizza. Javier was slouched on the sofa/your bed flicking through your Spanish introduction book, as you entered the room he threw it back on the table and pointed at the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.

“Got any more?”

“Think, that was his last one…” you shrug.

“Come down to mine for a drink? I don’t like how we left things.”

“No more talking?” Javier looks at you reproachfully, scanning your body as if the direct proposition you’d accidentally given him was the last thing he expected. “Uh- I mean- no more hard questions and no more...touching.”

“Alright.” He nods, pushing himself up with a sigh. “But if there’s no more touching, I get half of that pizza Sunshine.”

You nod and smile, following him down the stairs to his apartment. As you cross the threshold emboldened by tequila, you don’t dwell on your self destructive tendencies as Javier’s recent comments would’ve made you if you were sober.

You’re tired and all you want is a drink of whiskey, some pizza and for Javier to give you that smile, the one that makes the side of his mustache raises and reveals the pearly white of his teeth. Dropping the pizza down on the coffee table you make yourself at home, sitting very deliberately on the couch he hadn’t screwed someone else on. If he notices, Javi didn’t say anything.

He hurried over, cigarette balanced in between his lips as both hands were taken up. One holding two glasses and the other cradling the whiskey. He sits himself down with considerably more grace than you had, on the other sofa. You reach down the side of the sofa where you spy the remote peeking out from beneath the leather cushion and begin skimming through the channels until you find the telenovelas you'd unironically begun watching since arriving in Colombia.

Opening the box of Pizza, you take a slice and begin devouring the meal. It’s not quite like pizza as you know it, but it's tasty and full of carbs to soak up the alcohol so you can’t find a fault with it. The two of you eat in silence for around half an hour.

It seemed neither of you were eager to break the silence after the daunting conversation from earlier. It’s as you’re taking your first sip of whiskey watching two women argue in Spanish on the television you decide to speak.

“I figure I owe you some answers.”

“You don’t owe me shit, Sunshine.” He’s leaning back in his seat, whiskey balancing on his knee and a fresh smoke in his hand. “Sure I’m intrigued, but I'll figure you out in the end. Miami’s own angel of death?”

You chuckle at how close to the mark he is as he makes a shot in the dark. “I’m gonna need a refill if we’re gonna talk about our feelings…”

“Feelings… woah, woah, woah. I didn’t sign up for that.” He has a brazen smirk on his face, as he takes the now empty glass from your palm and fills it up. You down a second and he repeats the task.

“I killed a kid,” You wheeze as you wince from the burn turning your head towards the television and nursing the now full whiskey glass between your hands. “You asked why I gave up becoming a surgeon. I... I was the lead resident on a fuckin’ appendectomy. I could do that shit in my sleep. I perfed the abdominal wall as I was geting ready to close him up; a tiny fucking knick. There were no bleeders and his vitals remained normal, didn’t even notice I’d done it. It was as they were taking him back to the ward, he just crashed.”

You finish another glass and as your eyes water, you pretend it's the burn of the alcohol. You breathe heavy, your upper lip quivering. You’ve heard of the sensation but never felt it.

“I froze. I opened him up in the lift, by the time I got back in there, he’d bled out. A twelve year old; Justin Miller. Just a fucking kid.” Javi doesn’t try to interrupt or make you feel better, which honestly made the whole thing easier.

“His mom sued the shit out of me and the hospital, can’t say I blame her. I took a sabbatical and when it was time to go back, I couldn’t. Couldn’t go into the OR without having a fuckin’ panic attack.” You hadn’t met Javi’s eyes for the entirety of the one-sided conversation, scared that when you looked up you’d no longer find those treacle eyes filled with warmth.

Silence fills the air for a devastating second whilst Javier digests your words.

“You fucked up.” He mumbled finally, your eyes shot up to his own and within the pools of chocolate you found his usual warmth, though his customary jovial expression was suddenly somber. Such an expression looked strange on the gentle man you’d come to know, but you knew it was far from out of place. “In our line of work, you mess up; someone dies. It’s not fair or easy, just is what it is.”

You don’t have a word for the noise you make, somewhere between a scoff and a gasp. You chuckle as his response to years of complex trauma you’ve never recovered from is boiled down to five simple words.

“It is what it is.” You repeat disbelieving.

“Can’t change the past. Useless to try.”

“Stuff it down with the brown?” You ask, lifting your empty glass in a cheers.

“Exactly, Guapa.” He unscrewed the whiskey bottle and began pouring you a generous portion. As he’s screwing the lid back on he sits back down, this time though he’s on the couch next to you. “Maybe someday I’ll get teary and we can talk about my fuck ups.”

Your only response is to punch at his hard thigh next to you as you take a long sip, thinking about the information you’d willingly just divulged to Javi. “I’ve never talked about that before.”

“Not with Steve?”

“Not with anyone. I was ashamed for a long time, still am. But it’s different now; more manageable.”

“Ready to operate then, Doctor Murphy?”

“Asshole.” You say with a reluctant smile to the joke at your own expense.

“pendejo” he leaned back on the sofa as he translated.

“pen-dejo?”

“Si muy bueno.”

“Another!”

“Coger!”

“Co-g-er?”

“Si insistes…” He trails off with a smirk.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yes, I am.”

After placing your drink on the coffee table, you lean over to Javi slowly, refusing to break eye contact, all the while and you lay your head on the plush leather of the sofa; nearer his shoulder than his own face.

“Thankyou, Javi.”

“I keep telling you, Sunshine. It’s nothing”

“It’s everything,” You close the distance and place a kiss on his lips. It’s neither heavy nor chaste, like when he initiated them. This is full of meaning, It speaks of letting go of the past and welcoming the future, it's deep and warm and delicious. Your tongue licks at his own as your hand rises to rest on his cheek holding him there, you explore the depths of his mouth instead of conquering them. He tastes of the whiskey and somehow residual tequila, you find yourself getting drunk off of the taste of him.

Pulling away you rest your forehead against his own. “I’m so tired… and drunk.”

“Sleep with me.”

“Javier, you said- I mean, I don’t think-”

“No, sleep. Just sleep... with me. Gotta be better than the couch up there,”

“No funny business?”

“Scouts honor.” After a moment of contemplation you decide that this was specifically breaking the rules of your selfishness, the tequila may have altered your perception of the rules somewhat but you had wanted this man for so long. After your emotional confession, falling asleep next to him seemed cathartic.

You take the remote once more and click the red power button, the screen goes black as Javier has already disappeared into his bedroom. You hear him rummaging around in his drawers as you cross the threshold. Once he’s seemingly found what he was looking for, he holds the article up to your inspecting eye.

It’s a plain olive green v-neck tee, nothing particularly special about it, but it would do as pyjamas, so you accept it gratefully, much preferring a tshirt to the sundress you’d worn out to dinner. You push the straps off of your shoulders, letting them fall under your armpits as you clutch the dress to your front. You pull Javier's t-shirt over your head and are greeted by the fragrance you’d come to love. It smelt like washing powder, spice and cigarette smoke, you wouldn’t say smoke was on your top tier of smells list but it reminded you of Javi so you couldn’t bring yourself to turn your nose up at it.

Once the shirt was covering all the important bits, you lowered your dress and stepped out of the offending cloth.

“A little late for modesty, eh?” He smirks as he lights his cigarette, leaning against the pillows of the bed. He was referring to the morning after you’d arrived in Colombia, where you’d walked through this very apartment, bare as the day you were born.

At some point Javi had rid himself of his dress shirt and dropped onto the bed still wearing his jeans. You shimmy your bra down the sleeve of the tee, to make a point. Winking at him as you finally pull it free. You fling it on top of where your dress lay abandoned.

“You’re still a perv for that.” You smile fondly at the man as you clamber over to your side of the bed. He’d taken the left, closest to the door. He doesn’t reply as you make yourself cosy, under the thin blanket of the duvet.

You roll over to face him, he seems to be miles away.

“Where’d you go?” You ask softly, though he startles still.

“I’m right here,” He deflects, leaning over to the ash tray to stub the smoke out.

“Ok…” You roll your eyes as he turns off the lamp and lies flat on the bed next to you. The two of you are silent for a while. It’s not quite awkward but it's definitely not comfortable silence, the two of you know the implications of your decision tonight. Even if Javi is being a perfect gentleman. Your eyes have yet to acclimate to the dark as you stare out trying to search for his form.

“Stop staring at me.”

“It’s dark, I’m not staring at anything.” You reply to his childish remark. You hear a chuckle catch in his throat. He seems then to have finally made his decision, he reaches forward and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. You go to stop him, but there's nothing to stop. He makes no further move as he holds you there. Your cheek rests on the overheated skin of his pectoral, it has just enough give to be comfier than any pillow you’ve ever encountered.

“Maybe, I’ll tell you about my fuck ups one day.” He whispers into your hair, despite the way he says it being non-committal there's a promise behind the words. You don’t reply, already drifting off into the best sleep you’ve had since arriving in Colombia, or perhaps ever.

A part of your brain registers Javi placing a kiss on the crown of your head as your eyes finally shut, though it is quickly replaced by the singular thought of ‘God, I hope I don’t drool all over him.

“You sober?” You look up at the clock on the bedside table that reads 5am. You’d been asleep for about four hours. You make a non committal noise in your throat.

“Javi?” You mumble sleepily, the man behind you is peppering kisses on your neck.

“You want this?” Again you groan, this time however, you nod your head. His arm rises to wrap around your neck, arching your back to get you closer to him. “Do you want this?”

“God yes.” You gasp, pushing your hips back against his bulge. His hands release your stomach as he kisses down your neck once more. His hands are hard on your flesh as they map out your body in the dark.

His hands continue to roam your body as they slide under his shirt, they land on your breasts, he can’t help himself as he weighs them in his hand. He groans in your ear at the feel of them in his palm. You’d always had Javier down as an ass man, he’d nearly burnt a hole through your jeans the night you’d met. But apparently Javi was a man of many tastes as he worshiped your nipple with the pads of his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud through his thumb and forefinger.

You groan at the sensation and push yourself back into him, desperate to feel every inch of his body against your own. You pull away suddenly and he makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, though all of his questions are answered as you pull his shirt over your head and throw the offensive fabric across the room. As Quick as a flash he’s back on you, his mouth attached to your neck, giving you absolutely no quarter.

He’s the one bucking into you this time and that seems to awaken part of your brain, your hands reach behind you they’re clumsy from sleep and the angle you have is awkward, you struggle with the button of his jeans for a second before his hand leaves one of your breasts to undo it for you. His hand returns as quickly as it left though it doesn't stay there for long as it slowly roves south, stroking the flesh of your stomach and making your entire being tighten up in anticipation as he feels you through your boy shorts. His touches are light at first, testing and exploring your body, before his fingers begin teasingly rubbing at your clit seeming to delight in the way, your wetness seeped through your underwear.

You force your brain back to the task at hand as your hand finds his abdomen and lowers through the hair lurking below his zipper, mimicking the actions he had performed on you moments before, however you have no intention of teasing.

They find their mark, and you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’d felt him on the sofa that night but my god, your imagination hadn’t done him justice as your hand just about closed around him as you pumped him awkwardly behind you. He groaned in your ear and began whispering in a blend of Spanish and English.

His hands rise to dip under your panties, they brush across your mound before they find their home. His fingers barely touch you at first, seeming to be getting the lay of the land. After a moment of teasing, a single solitary finger swipes slowly along your slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on his fingers.

He groaned in your ear. “So fucking wet, that sweet little cunt is so ready for me…” Instantaneously you lose all motor skills as your body goes into shock, Javier’s dirty mouth would be the death of you.

Fucksake Y/N he wasn’t even inside of you, yet here you were writhing in his arms like a wanton whore from a single sentence.

Your reaction seemed to spur him on as he let go of your body and rolled you onto your back. He swung around on his knees to fit between your legs. His hands rested on your hips, gripping onto the panties that lay there before he rolled them down your legs and threw them behind him. He leaned forward on his elbows, to stare at the most intimate part of you.

Javi began kissing down your thighs, placing small bites along the sensitive skin along the way, getting closer and closer to the throbbing warmth of your pussy.

“I meant what I said, cariño. I want to know how you taste.” Your mind is brought back to that church, the way he had you pushed against those bars, you didn’t think your body could constrict any further. You were desperate for any kind of contact. And you knew right there and then that you had been right; This man would destroy you.

He struck then, much like a cobra towards his prey. His tongue flattened against your warmth, breaching your folds and catching on your clit. The tip of his tongue was skilled as it danced along your bud, drawing cry after cry from you as your hands grabbed at his short ink black hair.

He takes one final lap at your swollen clit before his tongue goes lower, he pushes through and sinks his tongue inside of you. His nose, that you’d appreciated for its character bumped perfectly against your clit making stars shoot behind your eyes. You clenched around his tongue, desperate to be filled, he seemed to get the message as two fingers were quickly buried in your aching hole.

“So fucking tight, Guapa, I don’t know if I can fit three...te lo vas a tomar tan bien.” His tongue had risen back up to your clit, the combination of the vibration and filth of his words made a whimper drop from your lips, before he started rotating his tongue in circles around your swollen bud as his two fingers pumped in and out of your cunt at a thundering pace drawing you closer and closer to the edge as the minutes went by.

Finally, his fingers curled inside you as he sucked your clit into his mouth and all at once you were pushed off the cliff. You couldn’t tell what pushed you over that first peak so quickly, maybe it was the fact that it was Javier, the man who had been plaguing your dreams since you arrived in Colombia, currently between your legs devouring your cunt like a starving man, perhaps it was a culmination of five days of foreplay, but whatever the reason, when you fell, you fell fucking hard.

You clenched around Javi’s fingers like a vice, so much so he hissed into your pussy and began thrusting his fingers faster. Spots clouded your vision as your whole body curved upwards and around the man giving you this pleasure as your legs clamped around his head and your fingers must have scratched his scalp as your hips thrust, riding his face to your peak. You were as taut as bowstring before the tension finally snapped and your body exploded in euphoria. You let out a cry as you crescendo on Javi's talented tongue.

He didn’t stop straight away, even after your body slumped back against the bed, he coaxed you through the aftermath of your orgasm, lapping at your entrance and drinking your come like it was the most delicious wine he’d ever sampled, groaning all the while.

Finally, he pushed himself forward, kissing at your thighs, your mound and finally your stomach as he came to rest over you, holding all his weight on his elbows. His face met your own as he kissed you deep, fucking your mouth with his tongue as he had done your pussy moments before. He leans back rubbing at your stomach, at your hips, at any flesh he can get his hands on.

“Sabes mejor de lo que podría haber imaginado precioso.” He whispers against your breast as his mouth locks around your nipple. Javier Peña speaking Spanish did things to you, even if he hadn’t been stimulating your breasts you knew for a fact you’d be just as wet from hearing him speak in what you could only assume was a first language from the ease with which it left his mouth. You wished more than anything you could understand what was undoubtedly the filth coming from his mouth.

You had recovered enough from his assault on your clit, to move your hands from your sides. They raised up and traced the tanned skin on his chest. He really was beautiful. He pulled back to stare at you, giving you a clearer view of his body.

He was muscled yet lithe and you took a self indulgent moment, committing the sight of him to memory, before your hands wrapped around his cock, which was standing to full attention through the undone zip of his jeans. He was what must have been unbearably hard, if you’d have had light to see, you had no doubt the head of his cock would be purple, straining with need. You pushed his jeans further down, recruiting your feet to push them down over his ass. Your hands roamed down to squeeze at the bountiful offering of meaty flesh.

He chuckled as you pinched his cheek, before lifting his knees one at a time and kicking his jeans off of the bed and before you knew it he was lining himself up, brushing the head of his cock through your wet folds. Despite his groan at the contact, he had the discipline to check a final time. “This is what you want, Y/N?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you pushed his hand away from his cock, and pushed it towards your hole. You pushed your hips up against him in lieu of an answer, welcoming the head of his cock inside you. Even though all you could manage was shallow entry, the feel of him inside of you was glorious.

His hands, those talented, glorious hands found your own, wrapping his significantly larger ones around yours above your head. He pushed forward with one strong thrust of those lithe hips and he buried himself balls deep inside of you, rooted so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix. He was everywhere, he was plundering every inch of you as his body surrounded your own, heat built between the two of you as sweat began coating both of your bodies.

Every thrust brought you closer to your second peak, turning your head you couldn’t resist trying to get him to claim your mouth too. Though you couldn’t quite reach far enough to make contact, as if reading your mind Javier bent his elbow pushing his torso forward, coincidently pounding deeper into your body as your lips joined in a messy kiss. He was fucking into you slow and deep, his tongue began following the rhythm of his cock as he claimed every single part of you as his own.

The pace was brutally slow, just enough to get you to that edge and keep you on it, you could barely speak. You felt like you were drowning in Javier and every time you came up for air he bottomed out, meeting your hips with his own and the wave of pleasure cut off the oxygen all over again.

“Please… Javi…”

“W-what do you want Sunshine?” He panted out continuing with his slow tempo.

“Faster...please... God.” He ignored your cry for speed and continued fucking you into the matress at his own pace, though his thrusts were just as slow but they were harder. His hips hit against your own, as he put all of his power behind them, getting as deep as he could. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was trying to tunnel through to your womb. You clenched at the thought as he fucked you deep and hard.

“... Javi…” You cried his name, a desperate plea as he kept you suspended over your peak, refusing to let you free fall. Finally he huffed, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

“You want me to fuck you properly, huh, Guapa?” He began thrusting into you at an arduous pace, the room was filled with your cries, his grunts and slapping of your connecting skin. Those telling black spots were clouding your vision, your second orgasm of the evening was fast approaching. Once again you clenched down on Javi’s thick cock.

“I’m gonna’ come.” His hand lowered and began rubbing at your clit, not pausing for a moment as he fucked you thoroughly.

“ven por mí...ven sobre mi polla… fuckin’ Sunshine, fucking taking my cock…. buena niña, podría follarte todo el día.” The second he lost his brain and began muttering in Spanish was the moment you were gone. You came for the second time as he was relentlessly hammering into you, drawing your orgasm from you. Your whole body braced against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down around his cock, milking him tightly.

“Fuck!” He growled at the tightness surrounding him.

After a few moments he pulled out, quickly grabbing your and flipping you onto your stomach, after placing a pillow under your hips. He then buried himself back inside of you to the hilt his groans mixing with your own at the sensation. He kept up the pace he had before but this time the angle was deeper as he forced your legs together with his thighs.

Javi’s hands grabbed at your ass (perhaps he was an ass man after all) slapping the meaty flesh which resided there and then instantly kneaded the tissue he’d just abused. His hands rose to carresse the skin of your hips before he took a punishing grip on them and began fucking you in earnest. Javier taking his pleasure from your body whilst you lay a drooling mess from the orgasm he’d already gave you was an image you didn’t know would turn you on, but it made you clench around his shaft as it plundered your depths.

He began speaking again, though they were lost in a mix of Spanish and English, so much so you couldn’t differentiate. His pace was relentless and finally you felt him begin to shake as he gasped above you

“¿dónde?...w...where?”

“Come inside me, Javi.” He groaned at words and continued pounding until his hips stuttered and he brought it home and buried himself deep inside, filling you to the brim with his seed.

The two of you lay there breathing heavy trying hard to get your breath back, half of his weight on top of you and the other half resting on the mattress.His cock was slowly going soft inside of you, yet you felt no urgency to move.

“So much for scouts honor, huh?” You ask from behind a veil of hair, turning your face which had been buried in the mattress moments before. Your voice is hoarse; completely wrecked much like the rest of you.

He’s silent for a moment of consideration, before he leans forward in the moonlight and pushes your hair from your face. The action makes his cock shift inside of you and a little of his release spills out onto your thighs. He continues anyway and places a soft kiss on your lips before whispering “... I was never a boy scout, cariño.”

TAGLIST - Leave a message if you’d like to be added homies.

@drinkingwhileblogging @va-guardianhathaway @jedi-jesi @obsessivelysearching @cannedsoupsucks @wantingtobekorra @littlemissoblivious @linnie0119 @pascalesque @pedrosmustache @sir-lili @obsessivelysearching @fairytale07

A/N: Fuck me that was the steamest shit I’ve ever written. This was especially for @drinkingwhileblogging and her turquoise titties, hope this makes up for me blue balling you all.

#javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #murphy!reader #FUCKING SMIRK AT ME MORE JAVI I SWEAR TO GOD T-T #pedro pascal x reader

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buckys-other-punk · 4 years

Text

Christmas Lies

Pairing: Chris Evans x Assistant!Reader

Request: I was thinking of Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans x (assistant) reader where reader is originally from another country and is living alone and is going to celebrate the holidays and made up an excuse that she's celebrating with someone and is in the middle of prepping her Christmas eve dinner and was caught red handed that she's celebrating alone?😅😅

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: cussing and some cliche fluff (the title may fool you but yes this is fluff)

A/N: Hello my loves! Wooo another request, I hope I did this justice and sorry if this sucks. I am a little late for a Christmas fic but hey its still the Christmas season right? Anyways here is a cute Christmas fic for y’all (Merry late Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Years!) As always please lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. This is unedited so don’t mind those mistakes.

Tis the season right? Yeah the season for stress and anxiety. A season where people had to find the perfect gifts for one another and hope that their gifts weren’t sold out. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to worry about that. Moving to the United States from your home country over two years ago it seemed pretty lonely, but more freeing than ever. You didn’t have any relatives that lived in America, but occasionally some would fly over to visit you. Sadly this year you were alone for the holidays. Your parents won a vacation to the Bahamas for the holidays and your older brother was expecting his first born anytime now. The rest of your family had various holiday plans and wanted to celebrate in your home country. So yeah, this year you were going to enjoy your own company.

“So do you have any plans for Thursday night?” Chris, your boss asked you.

“What’s happening Thursday?” you asked looking at him with confusion.

“Y/N, it’s Christmas Eve!” He exclaimed with a big smile.

“Oh fuck. Umm, well not really.” you shrugged.

“Well you already know my plans. I gotta go to that party my brother wants me to attend.” Chris huffed out.

“Speaking of your brother, I got a call from him asking you to bring a date to said party.” you said to the man.

“Why don’t you come with me.” he said with a smirk.

This wasn’t the first time Chris has asked you to come with him to parties. Hell he asked you every time he was invited to one, but you always turned him down. He was your boss for crying out loud, wouldn’t it seem inappropriate to bring your assistant as your date? But, you weren’t gonna lie that the man was attractive, sweet, and you may or may not have a crush on him. He’s fucking Chris Evans. Shaking your head trying to think of a cover up of your actual plans for the night, which was nothing, and rejecting his offer just because well you don’t even know.

“You know what, my cousin from my home country is actually visiting for a bit before she heads off to see her boyfriend in Hawaii.” you lied telling the man. Why were you lying again? Right, saving yourself from embarrassment.

“Oh, well that’s nice of her to stop by. I bet you’re gonna make a big feast.” Chris mumbled as he sipped his cup of coffee.

“You know I’m not gonna quit Y/N, you’re gonna have to go on a date with me someday.” he teased nodding your way.

“Yeah whatever.” you breathed out while rolling your eyes focusing back on your work.

*Christmas Eve*

You were glad that the nearest grocery store was still open for you to grab some last minute ingredients for your dinner. Making a random stew recipe you found online that sounded pretty good and some brownies for dessert. Right when you got home you started making your brownies, from scratch, and once the batter was complete you put it into a tray and in the oven. You went to your room to change into your black Nike spandex shorts (since you haven’t done laundry and this was the only thing that was clean) and an oversized sweatshirt you stole from your brother before you moved to America. You weren’t trying to impress anyone since you were again alone for the holidays. Heading to the kitchen you began cutting the vegetables for your stew and boiling the broth when you heard your doorbell ring.

“Please don’t be carolers. Please don’t be carolers.” you muttered to yourself crossing your fingers as you walked over to the door. When you opened the door you saw your boss standing in front of you wearing a black suit, looking handsome as fuck. “Chris, don’t you look nice. What are you doing here?” you said without any expression to the man.

“Y/N, you’re looking festive without pants.” he smirked, staring at you up and down.

“Fuck off. I’m wearing shorts underneath. Seriously, why are you here?” you asked again.

“I ditched my brother to hang out with you and your cousin.” he said smiling.

“Oh thats so nice of you, but you didn’t have to come all this way.” you said trying to change the subject.

“What, that's ridiculous. I also forgot to give you your Christmas present.” he stated showing the nicely wrapped box that he hid behind his back. “Where is your cousin by the way?” Chris asked, trying to peek around your apartment.

“Oh, Mel? She’s in my room video chatting with her parents.” you lied pointing behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Where are my manners.” you said moving out of the way for him to enter your home.

“Thanks.” he smiled as he stepped in again looking around your place. “Um, Y/N.” he said.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you asked as you shut the door behind you.

“Something smells like it's burning.” he stated looking back at you.

“Shit my brownies!!” you yelled as you ran to your kitchen. You put on your oven mitts and took out the burnt dessert and placed it onto your countertop. “Damn it!” you exclaimed.

“You forgot to put a timer on, didn't you.” Chris chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen bar island.

“Shut up.” you huffed shaking your head.

“Hey Y/N.” he started, drawing your attention back to him and not the burnt disaster. “You said your cousin was here right?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you replied, not really paying attention to him placing the burnt tray in the trash ans cute veggies in a pot.

“Well two things. One, why is your dinner table set up with only one plate. And two, your bedroom light is off.” he said pointing at the table behind him.

“Fuck.” you whispered underneath your breath as you looked up at the man. “Maybe Mel fell asleep?” you said with a shrug.

“You lied!” he exclaimed looking at you. “You sneaky shit! Why did you lie to me?”

“Because you’re my boss and I can.” you sassily said back with your hands on your hips.

“Y/N.” he said more sternly.

“Fine.” you said as you raised your hands in defeat. You walked around the counter towards your couch motioning Chris to follow you, which he did. “I lied because I didn’t want to go with you to the party.”

“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Because. I don’t know. Isn’t it a little inappropriate that your date to a fancy party is your assistant?” you sheepishly asked averting your eyes from the man that sat next to you.

“Y/N, that’s a bullshit reason and you know it.” he cursed at you. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fine!” you said, taking a deep breath. “Honestly Chris, I kinda have a crush on you and I didn’t want to look stupid in front of your celebrity friends.” you shrugged looking away at the man.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” he said quietly and he gently grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “I’m glad you told me the truth Y/N.”

“What no snarky remark? No cheesy comeback?” you questioned.

“Nope.” he said with a smile.

“That’s it?” you asked looking into his greenish blue eyes.

“Yup that's it.” he smirked, staring at you.

“Hold up. I just confessed to you, my boss, that I have a crush on you and you’re not goin-” you started, but was cut off when you felt lips crash into yours. As Chris pulled away your eyes were still closed and your mind was in disbelief. Slowly opening your eyes, you stared at the man in front of you.

“Umm..did that..What just?” you were slightly panicking. Chris noted the panic. So he leaned in again and kissed you. This time you were aware that your boss was kissing you. Holy shit your boss, no fuck that CHRIS EVANS IS KISSING YOU! His eyes were closed and his hands were placed at your waist. As he began to pull away, you put your arms around his neck pulling him back towards you to deepen the kiss. The two of you pulled away, your foreheads still pressed together as you looked into each others eyes.

“Wait is that your Christmas tree?” Chris teased, still staring at you as he pointed at the small tree on the ground next to your record player. You leaned back and turned your head to look at your tree.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” you asked, looking back at him.

“It’s kinda pathetic.” he joked, placing his arm over the back of your couch.

“Hey! That was the first tree I bought when I moved over here!” you yelled in defense playfully punching his arm.

“It’s cute is what I meant to say.” he chuckled, rubbing his arm.

“Whatever.” you said shaking your head. “Are we gonna talk about that kiss?” you asked.

“Why don’t you open your present first?” he replied.

“You're ignoring my question, but fine.” you huffed out a bit irritated. “Wait, did you wrap this?” you asked, looking at gift wrapped in green paper.

“Actually you did a while back.” he said rubbing the back of his head. “I was hoping you forgot about it and luckily you did.” Chris added chuckling.

“I don’t deserve whatever this is Chris. I didn’t even get you anything!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“That kiss was plenty enough.” he grinned towards you.

“Shut up, I’m serious.” you sighed and looked down at the gift.

“Stop moping and just open the damn thing.” Chris said, lifting your chin up and pointed towards the present.

“Alright fine.” you stated back, slowly undoing the elegant wrapping you worked so hard on. As you opened the present it was a box that said ‘Thank you for helping me get my shit together!’ You laughed at the note looking back at Chris.

“Open the box.” he smiled trying to hold in his excitement. You opened the box and inside was filled with confetti paper and a card at the center. You took the card out saying ‘I kind of sort of maybe like you a lot’ with a heart underneath. You looked back at the man who nodded signaling you to open the card. Inside of the card it said ‘will you go out with me? P.s. here’s $100 for you. No pressure;)’ A hundred dollar bill was taped at the bottom of the card.

“Is the money a bribe?” you asked.

“Nah, it's just for reassurance.” he answered chuckling. You laughed and took out the bill from the card.

“I went through all this work, wrapping a present beautifully, just to get one hundred dollars in return.” you said seriously.

“Well, if you don’t like the present I can always take it back.” he said upset.

“Chris I’m messing with you.” you smiled as you pulled him close to you placing a kiss on his lips. “I would love to go out with you.” you said.

“Oh thank god!” Chris exhaled pulling you close into a hug.

“I better be getting more money outta this relationship!” you teased as you were engulfed in the man’s embrace feeling the vibrations of his laughter.

A/N: This was so cliche i hate it lol. Anyways did you like this late Christmas fic? lemme know! Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up!

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan @princess76179 @anbrax5553 @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes @miraclesoflove @kitkatd7 @saiyanprincessswanie @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom @thefallenbibliophilequote

^please lemme know if you wanna be added/removed for future tags or if i forgot you^

#chris evans x reader #Chris Evans #chris x reader #chris evans fanfiction #reader insert #reader x chris evans #reader x chris #chris evans fluff

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mintyminyoongi · 4 years

Text

Idiots

Pairing: Min Yoongi x ReaderRating: T

Word Count: 7.8k

Trigger warnings: None

Summary: Imagine you love Yoongi and Yoongi loves you but you’re both idiots and can’t say it. Or better yet, read about it.

Normally, when your phone starts ringing at 2:00 AM, you would curse the living daylights out of the person on the other end of the line. Maybe ask them if they were raised by barbarians or looking to get fully throttled.

But when you finish grumbling curses under your breath and crack an eye open to look at your screen, you can’t help the way your heart flops over a little. Yoongi. You swipe your thumb across the screen to answer before it goes to voicemail.

“You better be dead or dying,” you groan into the receiver.

You hear him curse under his breath and some fumbling around. “I, um, am not dying. Coincidentally. I forgot to check the time again.”

His low, drawling voice sends a shiver down your spine, as always. “Yeah, you did.” You find yourself chuckling, despite your initial anger.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “You were sleeping?”

You laugh fully this time. “Yeah Yoongi, I was sleeping. Like most people do at two in the morning on a Wednesday.”

“Ugh, sorry Y/N.” He sighs into the phone.

You frown and roll in your sheets, sitting up fully. “Hey, you okay? It’s been a while since you’ve spaced on time like this.”

About three years ago, you met Yoongi. You’d just graduated from university and had been able to get an internship at a tech start up in Seoul. It was shit pay and crazy hours but you loved the work.

You had met Yoongi in a cafe, late one night. Officially, you were off the clock but you had taken your laptop with you to try and catch up on some of your assignments. The cafe was close to your apartment, open late and had cheap, strong coffee.

Yoongi had been set up at one of the far tables, feline eyes droopy despite the numerous coffee cups littering his table. He had a fancy set of headphones on and his bleached blonde hair had dark roots growing in.

The cafe was busy, even during this time of night so you took one of the last empty tables near him. You tried to get work done, honestly. But between your sleep deprivation, over caffeination and this gorgeous boy sitting a table away, it was difficult.

So he naturally caught you staring at him. And your best way to save face was to point dumbly at your own ear. His brow furrowed but he pushed one headphone off his ear anyway.

“Sorry, just... I could hear your music through the headphones. It’s a little distracting.” It wasn’t, you could barely hear it over the other cafe noises. “Also, it’s bad for your hearing. To play music that loud.”

You wanted to disappear. Like wholly, from this plane of existence and any others that were out there.

But he just looks at you with an amused, crooked smile.

You didn’t know at the time that Yoongi was a successful rapper. He went by the name Agust D, and had just gotten back from his first tour after the release of his mixtape.

And the formation of your friendship went just like that. He needed a friend that didn’t care about his fame or his reputation. And you just needed a friend.

So what if you thought he was incredibly hot and talented and funny… Yoongi had never shown you any interest, romantically. And that was fine with you. His friendship meant the world to you.

Anyway, Yoongi wasn’t the best at taking care of himself. So when he calls you in the middle of the night, it’s almost always because he’s been locked in his studio all day and has lost all sense of time.

He sighs, not answering you right away. “I’m okay. Just- stuck on a song.”

You furrow your brow. “When did you eat last?”

A beat of silence. “Um.”

“Yoongi.” You bite your tongue to hold back the full lecture. “How about sleep?”

An even longer pause. “I took a nap this afternoon,” he says. “Or wait. What day is it?”

“Alright, that’s enough. Go home. Take a shower, sleep in an actual bed. You’re not doing yourself any favors running on fumes.”

“I know.”

“Nope, not buying it. I wanna hear you leave the studio.”

“Woman,” he sighs under his breath. “Fine.”

You can hear him shutting down the programs on his computer, almost feeling the way he’s making mental notes of where to pick up in the morning.

“So, which song is giving you trouble?”

Yoongi starts to describe the track, how he wants a syncopated rhythm but it’s not hitting right. He muses all the way during his walk home about different things he can try.

You curl back up into bed, just listening to him and giving what little insight you could. It kind of pained you to admit how much just the sound of his voice affected you.

Before long, you hear his front chime open. “Okay, I’m home.” You hope you were imagining just how exhausted he was. Even though you know you weren’t.

“Good. Please take care of yourself, Yoongi. You’re starting to give me gray hairs.”

Yoongi just huffs into the phone. “Thank you, Y/N. I am sorry for waking you up. Tomorrow’s your big presentation right?”

“It’s okay,” you say. “Yeah, it's at nine. So like,” you wince as you look at your screen. “Six hours.”

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi. Honestly. I’m used to running on no energy and all coffee.”

You could tell he didn’t feel better with that answer. “We're still on for movie night on Friday?”

“Yes please. I’ve been killing myself trying to avoid spoiler alerts.”

“Okay, great. I’ll bring snacks to make it up to you.”

You thought about protesting but knew it would be pointless. “That sounds like a fabulous idea. Now go get some sleep! And when you eat in the morning, it needs to be something that doesn’t come out of a plastic package, you hear me?”

“Aish, woman, let me live,” he gripes but you know him well enough that you can practically picture the smile on his face. “See you Friday. Good luck with the presentation, you’re gonna kill it.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You hang up and have to force yourself back to sleep, always getting a bit of a high from talking to him.

On Friday night, you were running around your apartment like a mad woman, trying to get it clean before Yoongi shows up. Even though he was terrible with the concept of time, he was never late to your movie nights.

You had stayed late at work talking to your boss about your presentation from the day before. So when Yoongi showed up at your door right on time you were still in your work clothes, hair a mess.

“Hi, come in. What the-” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head when you see how many bags he’s carrying.

“I said I would bring snacks,” he says sheepishly, cheeks tinted a dusty pink.

“Yoongi, this is like a whole store.”

He sets the bags down on your kitchen counter. “I felt bad about waking you up.”

You shove his arm, eyes widening further as he starts unbagging everything. “I told you it was fine, you dope! This is way too much food.”

Just as he opens his mouth your doorbell rings. Yoongi looks at you guiltily, a bag of your favorite chips in his hand.

“I may have also ordered pizza from that place you like.”

You wanted to smack him and kiss him in the same instant. That pizza was the perfect way to end a long, stressful week. “Well, you answer the door. I’m going to change clothes.”

In your room, you quickly change into sweats and a t-shirt. You fix your hair into a normal, less insane ponytail and make your way back into the kitchen.

You find Yoongi staring at you as you drop your hands from your hair. “What?”

He coughs, looking down. “Nothing. The food’s all ready.”

You frown a little but leave it. Then you see the three pizza boxes sitting on the counter. “Min Yoongi you did not order three pizzas and buy all these snacks.”

He squawks a little, unable to form words for a second. “Will you just take my apology already?”

Your heart seizes a little at his sincerity and you try not to read into it. “Fine. Apology accepted.” You cross your way into the kitchen, grabbing some plates out of the cabinet.

“How did your presentation go, by the way?”

“Oh my god it went great, Yoongi! My boss loved the idea of an integrated software, and he gave me the lead on it.” You turn to see him watching you attentively, a proud smile on his face.

“And this is the first time you’ve been the lead, right?”

“Yeah, at least one of this size. It’s gonna be a lot of work but I’m really excited.”

Once again, Yoongi gives you this unreadable look. His gaze makes you feel squirmy so you hand him a plate. “Well I’m proud of you, Y/N. You’ve really made a name for yourself at that company.”

“Thanks, Yoongi.” You cracked open the first pizza box and could’ve started drooling. “Oh my god, this smells amazing.”

When you’re thoroughly surrounded on the couch with more pizza, snacks and wine than any two people could need, you start the movie.

You and Yoongi had started making movie nights a habit about a year ago. Every month you both find time to make it work. It was kind of your favorite thing but you wouldn’t tell him that.

You really were trying to reign in your feelings for him. It didn’t seem fair, when Yoongi was only looking for platonic companionship. So you keep respectable inches between the two of you as you queued up the movie.

Yoongi gave you a judgy look at the moan you let out around your first bite of pizza but a swift elbow to the ribs made him look away.

The movie was pretty good, it was a slasher movie that came out earlier in the year. You watched with your mouth hung open in disbelief as the killer rose from the dead for the third time and snuck up on the lead actress.

“Oh, come on, they can’t be serious.” You lean forward on the couch cushion, thoroughly enveloped in the plotline. As the killer brandishes a kitchen knife and raises it above his head, your reflex is to smack Yoongi in the arm.

“Why doesn’t she just turn around?” you demand. “The house is like 800 years old the floorboards are creaking louder than your snoring.”

You can feel Yoongi look at you in offense. “First you hit me then you insult me?”

The girl on the screen eventually turns around and a chase ensues. You turn to Yoongi. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you. I just get so wound up at these movies.”

“Oh, but you meant to insult me?” He says, an eyebrow raised.

Damn, he looks good sprawled out on your couch. The thought comes unbidden. You bring yourself back to the present, to the sound of screaming and shrill horror music in the background. The present with Yoongi sitting on your couch.

“Yeah, I mean have you heard your snoring?”

“When have you heard me snore?” he demands.

You turn to face him on the couch, the movie forgotten for the moment. “Like three months ago, when you showed up at my door, completely wasted. You stumbled around my apartment for twenty minutes and then you passed out on the couch. You snored. All night.”

Yoongi looks at you with his mouth hung open, speechless. He shakes his head, seeming to snap out of it. “I completely forgot about that night.”

“Yeah, it was after some event at your label. You showed up smelling like cheap perfume and whiskey, barely able to stand up straight. I gave Namjoon an earful the next day for letting you get that drunk.”

Yoongi scoffs, suddenly finding the hole in the knee of his jeans very interesting. “He didn’t let me do anything. I can be pretty stubborn when it comes to that stuff.”

You nod, not understanding where the uneasy mood came from. “That’s pretty much what he told me. He said that you showed up to the event pissed off, that you were an asshole the whole night and he couldn’t keep you in check.”

“Yeah I wasn’t myself that night.”

He still wouldn’t look at you.

“I remember,” you say. “I’d never seen you that far gone before. Namjoon said he hadn’t either.”

Yoongi stays silent. For long enough that you started to turn back to the TV screen, not wanting to push him.

Truthfully, that night had kind of scared you. He had been almost incoherent when you let him in. Yoongi was a fan of a good whiskey but he usually didn’t get that drunk, let alone wasted like that. You hadn’t known what to do so you kind of just stood back as Yoongi mumbled to himself, shucking his jacket and boots before falling onto the couch and passing out.

He says something under his breath and even though you were right next to him you didn’t catch it. You wince as a bloodcurdling scream comes from the TV screen. He doesn’t even seem to notice it.

“What did you say?” You ask him, scooting a little closer.

Again, he stays quiet. At which point you’re starting to get annoyed, so you let out a huff and flop back against the couch cushion.

“You had a date that night.”

You stare uncomprehendingly at the gory scene on the TV before looking at him. “What?”

He had turned his gaze to you, but not in your eyes. He’s looking somewhere around your shoulder, you think.

Yoongi runs his tongue over his teeth before answering you. “That night, you had a date with some guy from your office.”

You think back, remember that you’d had a date with Minho. He was in the advertising department of your company. He had a really cute smile and loved cats so you thought you’d give him a chance.

You thought if you just actively started dating that you would get over your stupid crush on Yoongi faster.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.

Even though Minho was attractive, and he had really funny stories you only found yourself thinking about Yoongi all night. The date had ended when he walked you to your door, and kissed your cheek. You told him it had been a nice night but you didn’t think you saw him as more than a friend. Things had been awkward around the office for a few days but he took it graciously and you two are friends now.

Yoongi had shown up not long after you’d gotten back. You were still in your dress, heels kicked off by the door. You remember now, he had given you a once over and scoffed before stepping past you into the apartment. Before you’d gone on the date, you’d told Yoongi about it. You thought maybe if he hyped you up it would help you be more excited for it.

Instead, he just said “have fun” and didn’t speak to you for the rest of the night. Until he showed up at your door, so drunk he couldn’t stand straight.

He never asked about the date, you didn’t think he even remembered it. He certainly didn’t seem like he cared about it at the time.

Belatedly, you realize the end credits are rolling on the screen.

And Yoongi is staring at you. Not at your shoulder or somewhere in the vicinity. Right at you.

“Yoongi…” You say, because you didn’t know what else to say.

He gulps down the rest of his wine and turns to face you fully. “I-I didn’t have the right to be jealous but I was. Of him. So I went to that stupid fundraising event and focused on the free drinks and the easy women. And ended up here anyway.”

You swallowed thickly, trying not to overthink what he was saying. “You were jealous?” The words are strained as you say them. Your hands curled into fists because the bite of your nails in your palms helps to ground you.

Yoongi leans in a little, sucks in a quick breath. He opens his mouth to speak just as the movie kicks back to the main menu, the title music blaring through the speakers.

You jump reflexively. You didn’t realize how close you’d gotten to him, your face barely a few inches from his. So close you can see his pupils dilate, can smell the sweet red wine on his breath.

And just like that, Yoongi seems to snap out of something. He stands from the couch and picks up your dirty plates and wine glasses. He’s already in the kitchen, loading the dishes in the washer when you feel yourself snap back into reality.

What the hell was that?

You were pretty sure you weren’t misreading things. He was jealous that you were dating other people. Well, had dated other people. Honestly you were tired of the whole song and dance. You hadn’t been on a date since Minho. When the right guy came along, you would try again. But you hadn’t found anyone that could hold a candle to Yoongi. And you didn’t want to waste anyone’s time.

But… why was Yoongi jealous? He was famous, had tons of beautiful idols and models and actresses he could pick from. Maybe he was just jealous of having a normal dating life.

Either way when you shuffle into the kitchen with the bowls of snacks, you couldn’t ignore the tension in Yoongi’s shoulders. The dishes were all loaded but he stood at the sink, clutching the edge of the counter.

“Yoongi.” This was new for you. You’d never felt uncertain around him before. Maybe shy, when you caught yourself thinking about his adorable smile or strong hands. But never uncertain.

He cleared his throat and turned abruptly. “I forgot I have an early morning tomorrow. I should get going.”

You frown, not wanting to leave things in this weird state. You follow him to the door where he’s pulling on his coat. “Yoongi,” you try again.

He falters, head hanging low.

“Will you just tell me what’s bothering you?” You finally demand.

Yoongi turns swiftly, pulling you close to him by your waist. He leans his forehead against yours and you suck in a breath, gasping it out at his proximity. Usually you’re the one initiating the contact, little side hugs or poking his cheeks when he’s grumpy. You always tease him about his fear of intimacy.

He huffs out a breath and closes his eyes. His hands tighten their grip on your waist.

You let him hold you. Part of you can tell he somehow needs this. You wonder if he can feel how heavily your heart is beating inside your chest. It feels thunderous to you.

Yoongi shifts, turning his face into your neck. You feel yourself relax a bit. This feels more familiar, closer to the hugs you’ve shared before. You allow yourself to wrap your arms around him, hoping to bring him some comfort.

“Don’t date anyone else.”

The words are soft, spoken against the skin of your neck. But you hear them perfectly. And your heart skips a beat all the same. “Yoongi-”

He moves, pulling his face from the crook of your neck. It takes him a minute to bring his eyes up to meet yours. And it almost seems to pain him when he croaks out “Please, Y/N.”

One of your hands seems to have its own mind as it combs through the hair at the back of his neck. His eyes close a little as he waits for your answer. “Okay,” you whisper.

His sharp gaze snaps up to yours and it takes you aback. Your hormone addled brain thinks that he’s going to kiss you. And it really seems like he’s going to. He moves one of his hands from your waist to cradle your face in his palm.

You lick your lips subconsciously and Yoongi’s eyes dart down to watch the action. And then something happens in his brain because he’s letting you go and backing away. “I should go,” he mutters as he pulls a mask from his coat.

Something about his tone is final. You don’t want to push it or question him. He turns back to you when he’s out in the hallway. “I’ll call you later.”

You nod, thoroughly overwhelmed and incapable of forming a response. And then he’s gone. And you close the door and have to ask yourself if you didn’t just dream the whole thing.

You were slammed at work the next week, trying to get the initial details of your new project hammered out. And maybe the lack of communication from Yoongi encouraged you to throw yourself headfirst into the work. Because you really didn’t want to stop and think about what your conversation that night had meant.

‘Don’t date anyone else’? That could really only mean one thing, right? If he didn’t want you dating anyone else it was so you could be with him. Right?

Or maybe he just meant he didn’t want you dating the wrong guys, to protect you or whatever. As if he could know that Minho or any of the other guys you’d dated were “wrong”.

And this whirling blackhole of a thought process is exactly why you’d been staying late every night this week.

The sun had been down for hours when you finally left your office building. You’re on the subway home when Yoongi calls you. Your eyes widen and you feel your heart stutter a bit when you see his name on the screen.

When you answer the phone you immediately hold the receiver away from your ear, the speaker blasting music and overlapping chatter from a crowd. “Yoongi?”

You think you can hear him saying something in the background. After a few moments you hang up. He must’ve called accidentally. And you have to kick yourself for getting so excited.

He’s out at a club or a concert, judging by the noise. It could be for work or for pleasure. Either way, he’s out with people and probably other girls-

You have to stop yourself. He’s not yours.

You get through the train ride and the walk home with a set jaw. This was exhausting. This weird, in-between thing was way worse than just suppressing your feelings altogether.

It was a little after 10:00 when he started texting you. You’d just finished eating a bowl of instant noodles over the sink when you see it. And from the first text you could tell he was drunk.

10:11 Yoongi: I MISs you

10:15 Yoongi: Y/N

10:15 Yoongi: This palace sucks

10:19 Yoongi: wis

10:19 Yoongi: I wish

10:20 Yoongi: Wish yu were hr

10:23 Y/N: Yoongi, you’re drunk. Text me when you’re sober.

Not long after your message he tries calling again. It pains you to do it but you let it go to voicemail. Nothing he says right now is going to keep you from combusting.

So you try to occupy yourself with a few episodes of trashy reality TV until you think you’re tired enough to go to bed. Yoongi hadn’t texted or called again. You hoped it was because he went home. Your brain strayed to some other girl catching his attention at whatever club he was at. Imagined her taking his mind off of you and his phone.

You bite your lip to stem off the ridiculous tears that spring into your eyes at the thought. He’s not yours, you remind yourself again.

The incredibly overwhelming sense of deja vu hits you when your ringing phone wakes you in the early hours of the morning. Yoongi’s face is on your screen. Maybe it’s because your brain is more than half asleep or because part of you is desperate to know if he went home alone that you answer the call.

You were grateful that you didn’t immediately hear the noise of pounding bass and drunk people in the background. But you do hear traffic noise, lots of it.

“Yoongi?”

“Y/N, what time is it?” His voice is still heavy with alcohol and you wince.

“It’s like one in the morning, Yoongi. Where are you?”

“Fuck. I told you I wouldn’t call you like this again.” He mumbles and you can imagine his lips forming that adorable pout. You have to shake your head out of that thought process when you hear a car horn too close for comfort.

“Yoongi, listen to me. Where are you? Are you safe?”

There’s a moment of silence as you imagine him looking around. “I’m- near the um, that corner store where you spilled soda all over me that one time. ‘member?”

“Yeah, I remember. Yoongi, can you get yourself a ride? You should go home and sleep this off.”

He continues talking, as if he didn’t hear you. And maybe he didn’t. He sounded just like that night, months ago. Who knows how much he’s had to drink. “You were so… so flustered and I-I remember you asking me how much my shirt cost because you were worried you wouldn’t be able to pay me back. And I told you it was just a regular t-shirt but really it cost $300 and I never told you that. And you were so cute. You were stuttering, and your cheeks were so red.”

“You- you kept trying to clean me up and everyone in the store was staring. I kind of realized then that you were maybe the cutest girl I had ever seen. Like, the cutest. But I didn’t… I didn’t know how to say that. Because I don’t like people and there are very few that I choose to spend time around.”

While (a very large) part of you loved this confession, you know it didn’t count. He was so incredibly drunk and would probably not remember any of this in the morning. And since you couldn’t see him, all your brain can imagine is that he’s about to stumble into traffic at any moment.

“Yoongi please. I need you to put me on speaker while you get yourself a taxi. I need to know you’re safe.”

He cuts himself off. All of a sudden the traffic noise is much louder so he must’ve put you on speaker. He grumbles as he’s tapping through the app. “Y/N thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“You’re welcome, Yoongi.” Your voice comes out whisper-soft and he might not have heard you over the rushing cars,

He must take you off speaker because he’s easier to hear again. “Says it should be here in ten minutes.”

You exhale, not even realizing how worried you had been. “Okay, good.”

“You interrupted me, you know.” Again, you can picture the pout on his face so clearly.

You chuckle a little, leaning back against your headboard. “You’re right I did.”

“Where was I?” You notice his Daegu accent is slipping in the more he talks. You wish it didn’t affect you as much as it did. “Oh, that people suck. Not you though, Y/N. You don’t suck and I’ve been scared to tell you that because I love our friendship. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

Your heart flutters. You try to keep reminding yourself not to read too much into this. He’s drunk and has never said anything along these lines when he’s sober. He’s had all the opportunity. But maybe you’re a masochist because you ask. “Fuck what up, Yoongi?”

He sighs. “I hate that I’ve never had the guts to say any of this to you sober. I’m such a coward, Y/N.”

As if you somehow know what he’s going to say, you try to stop him. “Yoongi, wait.”

“I love you, Y/N. I’m fucking stupid because I love you and I can’t even say it to your face.”

Tears sting into your eyes because this feels so surreal and it almost physically pains you to hear the words you’ve been dreaming about for so long.

You think you hear him getting into the cab when a car door slams shut and the traffic noise is much more muffled. “I fucking love you, Y/N,” he sighs happily, like he’s glad to have it off his chest.

You have to steel yourself because you can feel your brain slipping into La La Land. “Yoongi, you are drunk. Hang up and call me when you’re sober.”

He chuckles a little. “So bossy. Just because I’m hanging up, doesn’t mean I’ll forget that I love you,” he croons.

“Christ,” you mutter under your breath and hang up.

You flop against your pillows and try to calm your racing heart. What. The. Fuck.

In all of your fantasies about Yoongi you had never let yourself imagine he would say those words to you. It was too painful.

It was painful even now. Until you could talk to Yoongi face to face, you couldn’t know what he meant, if he meant any of it at all. So you were reminding yourself of this, to keep yourself sane as you lay spread eagle on your bed. Wondering what you did in your past life to deserve this kind of emotional turmoil.

When there’s a knock on your door. And a very drunk Yoongi calling your name through the cheap wood.

You run to the door to let him in before he wakes up any of your nosy neighbors. When you open the door, Yoongi almost falls across the threshold. You reach out on instinct to steady him and close the door promptly behind him.

“Would you shut up?” you hiss.

As he straightens and sees you, he gets this lazy smile on his face.

You decide to speak first and cut off whatever thought process he had. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi pouts and rubs a thumb across your cheek. “I missed you.”

“You were supposed to go home Yoongi.”

“Didn’t want to,” he shrugs.

You sigh, knowing you didn’t have the heart to kick him out when he was like this. “Fine. Will you at least take a shower before you crash? You stink.”

“You just want me naked,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at you.

Instead of answering him, you turn to your room to get him a change of clothes. If he were anyone else, if he hadn’t just told he loved you- this would be hilarious. You would never let Yoongi live this down.

But it wasn’t someone else. It was Yoongi. And not only had he told you he loved you, it seems like he already forgot about it. He was so unaware of the spiral you were in it was painful.

He was struggling with his boots when you made your way back into the living room. You swallow back the lump in your throat as you kneel in front of him.

You nudge his hands away and make quick work of the laces.

“Y/N.” When you look up, you’re struck with the clarity in his gaze. You’re not sure what changed in the time it took you to get him some clothes but the flirty Yoongi was gone.

His eyes were still dropping and he was a little sideways on your couch but he seemed more like Yoongi again.

“What?” you ask and wince when your voice cracks.

“I meant it.”

Your eyes close and you sit back on your heels to give yourself some distance. “Yoongi, please.”

He doesn’t say anything more and when you finally open your eyes again, he’s running a hand over his face. “Okay,” he sighs. Then he grabs the clothes from off the floor and disappears into the bathroom.

How did things get so complicated so quickly?

This was exactly the kind of situation you were hoping to avoid all these years. You roughly wipe your eyes to stop any tears from falling before getting to your feet.

You hear the shower turn on as you make up the couch, tucking sheets into the cushion and bringing out extra pillows. And then you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your first instinct is to go close yourself in your room and not come out until he’s gone in the morning.

You knew you could never do that though. You’d never been good at ignoring Yoongi. It was unclear if other people experienced this kind of magnetism towards him, but you were hopeless.

Because of the war going on in your brain, you were still sitting on the couch when Yoongi walked back down the hallway. And - in a word - oof.

The clothes were his, some you’d stolen a long time ago but he’d put on a muscle since then so the shirt was a little tight. His damp hair hung a little longer, hanging into his eyes a little bit.

The shower seemed to do him some good, he looked a little more alert. More himself.

You watch him warily and tuck your knees into your chest. He takes a seat opposite you on the coffee table. Then you two sit there, not looking at and not talking to each other.

Then Yoongi heaves a heavy sigh and you dare to look at him. “Y/N…” He doesn’t seem to have more to say than that.

You turn to look at him. “Yoongi, I’m exhausted. Can we talk in the morning?”

He nods, shoulders sagging. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

You shoot up from the couch, ready to get out of this tense atmosphere. “I brought out sheets and blankets. And there’s a stack of pillows there. If you need anything else, you know where everything is.”

“Y/N.” Yoongi’s hand reaches out, maybe to stop you or grab you. You just dart a few paces away. You had no resolve left and you were pretty sure if he touched you at this point that would just crumble.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Yoongi.”

His sighs and it ruffles your hair, sends a shiver down your back. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next morning, as the sun shone brightly through your curtains, you were praying for a sinkhole to open underneath your apartment building and swallow you whole. Or maybe like a stray asteroid could come in through your window. Less casualties that way. Anything to get you out of this conversation with Yoongi.

You hadn’t slept all night, trying to decode Yoongi’s words and your own feelings. You’d been squashing them down for so long, trying to make them as small and inconsequential as possible.

It was sometime after the sky started to turn pink that you truly allowed yourself to accept how much you love Min Yoongi. How much you always have.

For as long as you can remember, you have cherished every moment with him. Your movie nights. When you could bring your laptop to his studio and listen to him produce music while you worked. Getting late night coffees at the same cafe you first met.

The list goes on.

Now it was just a matter of figuring out if Yoongi really did… love you. You know that saying “drunk words are sober thoughts.” And maybe it was true in this case. But what if he just meant he loved you as a friend?

Really, it wasn’t that far fetched. You have never met a more emotionally guarded person than Yoongi. He didn’t even want to admit to being friends until after you threatened to send a video of him dressed up as his female counterpart “Yoonji” to Dispatch.

In short, you were getting nowhere fast. Which is why you finally kicked yourself out from under your sheets to make some coffee. Coffee always helps right?

A quick peek into the living room and you can see Yoongi curled up on the couch, still out.

You tiptoe past him and into the kitchen. You start to brew a pot of coffee and let the comforting smell wash over you. It seemed to rouse Yoongi as well. Over the back of the couch you see him stretch his arms, groaning as he does it.

You pour two mugs of coffee and give him time to fully wake up.

He shuffles into the kitchen, one eye cracked open and trying to smooth his hair down with his hands. “Morning,” he mumbles.

You wordlessly hand him a mug of plain black coffee. He hums gratefully and takes a large gulp.

Not for the first time you internally coo at his early-morning grumpiness. His eyes are puffy and his hair is sticking up in multiple directions despite his efforts. You sip your own coffee and try to figure out how to start this conversation.

Yoongi leans against the opposite of the island counter and looks at you over the rim of his mug. “So.”

“So,” you agree. And then leap into it. “You remember everything you said last night?”

He takes another large gulp of his coffee before setting the mug down. “I do.”

You lean your elbows down on the counter and grip onto your mug with both hands to have something to ground you. “Okay.”

Yoongi looks at you, eyes wary. You can’t look at him, can’t be the one that says something that ruins this friendship.

“Y/N… can we just forget it?”

Your eyes fall closed. You wonder at the same time if it’s possible for your heart to fall out of place in your chest because it no longer feels like it’s there. “Yeah,” you force out of your vocal chords. “Let’s forget it.”

“I just- it was wrong for me to say those things. To you. While I was so… out of it.” Yoongi sighs. “Will you look at me? Please?”

He’s staring at you, fully awake now. His gaze is imploring, like his words are saying one thing but his eyes are trying to tell you something else.

“Y/N, your friendship is one of the most important things in my life. You found me when I was in a shitty place and couldn’t find any real people to be around. Everyone wanted to know Agust D, they didn’t give a fuck about me. I can’t lose that, I can’t lose you-”

You take another drink from your mug to distract you and to hopefully hide the tears building in your eyes. This was the most likely scenario, you knew that. But you had still allowed yourself to hope for the best.

“I get it Yoongi. You love me, as a friend.”

He makes this noise in the back of his throat and comes around the island towards you.

On instinct you back away, trying to keep the distance. You throw your hands up when your back hits the counter behind you. “Yoongi, please don’t-”

He immediately stops a few feet away from you. “This is exactly what I didn’t want,” he says, voice breaking a little on the last words. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

You realize that the tears in your eyes have fallen so you wipe them away hastily. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Yoongi frowns, “You’re crying so it’s not fine.” He looks at you with such concern that it hurts. Like he would do anything to fix it if he could.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” you say weakly.

“Like what?”

You are exhausted, mentally and physically. So your filter is gone. And you blurt, “If we’re going to be just friends, I can live with that but that means you can’t look at me like that. Like you love me more than that.”

Yoongi just looks at you, jaw slack. “Let me be perfectly clear, Y/N. If we’re going to be just friends I am going to be the one living with it. Because…” he sighs and closes his eyes, as if to collect himself. “Because I do love you more than that.”

If your heart hadn’t fallen out of place earlier it certainly did in that moment. “What?” you squeak.

He takes a cautious step towards you. “Last night, I meant everything I said. I’ve never been brave enough to say it to your face, but I have been in love with you for the better part of three years. It wasn’t fair of me to say all of that to you or to show up here and have you take care of me. And I mean it, we can be friends. Because I’d rather be friends than nothing at all. But since we’re here I might as well get it all off my chest, even if it means I never mention it again. At least that way I can finally breathe again.”

Your chest heaves with panicked breaths as you absorb everything he just said. This time there wasn’t any way to misconstrue his words. No doubt about the meaning. Yoongi had just laid himself bare in front of you.

“Idiots,” you mutter.

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up past his hairline. “What?”

“We are idiots,” you say and a somewhat manic laugh slips its way past your lips. When you see the hurt cross his face, you step closer and clap a hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, Yoongi.”

He pulls back a step and the action sobers you immediately. “We are both complete idiots, Yoongi. Because I’ve never been brave enough either. Brave enough to tell you that you are what kept me sane during my intern year. That getting to see you is the best part of my day. And I’ve never told you I love you because I was terrified of you not feeling the same way.”

“Idiots,” he muses. Yoongi looks at you, eyes darting everywhere as if looking for the lie. His lips slowly curl into a smile when he doesn’t seem to find one. He closes the gap between you, cradling your face in his hands.

When he presses his lips to yours, it’s gentle. The tenderness makes your eyes slip shut, makes every time you’ve ever dreamt about this in the past pale in comparison. You could never have imagined how perfect it would feel when his hands roam the planes of your body, wrap around your waist and pull you flush against him.

The closeness has you overwhelmed, whimpering into his mouth. You find yourself craving even more contact, pull yourself infinitesimally closer by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

Yoongi pushes against you, making you stumble back a few steps until you hit the counter. Without missing a beat, his hands move from your waist down to your thighs. He grips the flesh there and hoists you up onto the countertop.

You gasp at the lift, legs wrapping around his hips for anchorage. Yoongi takes advantage and licks his way into your open mouth. You let him take the lead, feeling wholly overwhelmed by the way he kisses you. Your fingers thread in his hair, tugging on the roots when the sensations become too much.

Yoongi groans, pressing his lips harder to yours for another second before pulling away. He immediately presses another chaste kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead on yours.

You don’t open your eyes right away, almost afraid he won’t be there when you open them.

“Y/N,” he whispers. Your heart flops over, probably somewhere down near your appendix at this point. “We really are idiots.”

You smile, finally looking back at him. You tighten your legs around him, your body’s way of telling him he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. Yoongi’s eyes slip shut as he lets out a hiss. “Woman, you’ve gotta stop doing that.”

“Why?” you smirk.

“Because all I’ve thought about for years is being able to love you like I want to. I want to love you in every way you deserve to be loved. But I also haven’t slept in days. I haven’t slept a full night since I was here last, for movie night. If you keep doing that I’m going to take you right here and it won’t be my A game.” He kisses you slowly, making your toes curl in. “I want to give you my A game.”

You smile fondly at the rant but relent, dropping your legs to either side of his hips. Your fingertips trace the shadows under his eyes “I haven’t slept well either. Since that night.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers, slumping into you.

“Don’t be,” you say as you comb your fingers through his hair. “How about a nap? Because I too want nothing less than your A game.”

Yoongi straightens and glares at you. You put a hand on his chest and push lightly. He backs up enough for you to hop down from the counter. You take one of his hands in yours, taking a second to appreciate how easily they fit together.

“What, you’re not going to make me sleep on the couch again?” Yoongi says as you lead him to your room.

“I’m still not fully convinced this is all real.” You turn and pull him close again. “Until I am I need you to stay close to me. So no more couch.”

Yoongi smiles softly. “I can do that.” He kisses your forehead sweetly.

He audibly groans as he climbs into your bed beside you. You roll your eyes at him. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“You try sleeping on that couch. Whoever talked you into that couch is a nutjob.”

You smack his chest. “You convinced me to buy that couch!”

Yoongi shrugs, grinning softly. You smack him once more for good measure. Then you give into the instinct your body has been screaming for, which is to snuggle into him. You get comfortable with your head resting on his chest and one of your legs tangled between his. Your fingers fist into the material of his shirt on their own volition.

He pulls you closer with the arm that’s under you, not seeming to be satisfied until every gap between the two of you is gone.

“From now on, let’s be idiots together, okay?”

Yoongi chuckles and drops a lingering kiss on the top of your head. “Deal.”

#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #suga x reader #min yoongi x y/n #suga x y/n #min yoongi #suga #bts x reader #bts #bts imagines #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi domestic #agust d #angst with fluff #angst with a happy ending

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franeridart · 4 years

Text

Anon said: [Spoilers for non-manga readers] opinion on Baku's hero name?

Very Bakugou, honestly don’t mind it at all! Mostly just surprised it’s, like, legal in the bnha universe for heroes to call themselves stuff like explodo-kills (and also that there isn’t a character limit for hero names??) but that Bakugou would stick with it is pretty damn in character for him so I like it xD still, I’ll probably just call him Dynamight if I’ll ever need to use his hero name lmao

Anon said: not to be the most romantic sap but uh just a kiss by lady a is killin me

Nothing sappy about letting romantic songs get to you!!!! I say, as I’m constantly crying over romantic songs so this mindset benefits me as well lol

Anon said: i may or may not have stumbled across some of your older kiribaku art, the stuff with akane, and she's the best child oc tbh. i actually like her and i tend to not be a fan of child ocs but she's just the cutest darn thing 🥰

I’m so glad you like her!!!!! She was a lot of fun, what a good gremlin ;;;

Anon said: uve heard of dragon!kiri w his hair spikes up, now get ready for dragon!kiri w his hair dowm lookin like the softest boy

AW HECK I think I’ve drawn him in the past, actually!!!! Spike-haired Kiri will forever be my fav Kiri, but there’s just something about hair down Kiri isn’t it!! What a cute boy ;;;; all sharp edges and soft curves, what a lovely sight

Anon said: can i just say your itafushi art is so cute? these two already make me feel and then your art just (つω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

THANK YOU SO MUCH I really need to draw them more, don’t I! goge kinda monopolized my attention there, but the way itafushi makes me feel..........boy the way they make me feel ;;;;

Anon said: good day, poké au thought: 12 y/o bakugo somehow catches a dreepy as like his 2nd pokemon and never questions it

WHY NOT WHY NOT I have a whole team in my mind for the boy tbh but dreepy is so cute ;;;; and anyway, I like my poke!bakugou with as many dragon types as he could possibly get his hands on hahaha

Anon said: Please know that, amongst other factors, you were one of the maon reasons I stsrted Jujutsu Kaisen two days ago and there isnothing more to say except thank you and I'm absolutely in debt with you for that, thank you so much 😍

I’m so so SO glad you’re liking it!!!!!! It can get kinda heavy but it’s such a great story.... honestly I’d been wanting to start it since I saw the first pv for the anime all the way back last year but I was like, you know it’s a mappa anime! so I wanted to watch the anime as a new thing, cause I love mappa, but three episodes in I couldn’t hold back and just binged it. It’s kind of story that just makes you wanna drink it all in one go, isn’t it? so good so good

Anon said: makeup artist kirishima and model bakugo or makeup artist bakugo and model kirishima? :0c

Hmmmmmmmmmmmm can’t say I see either of them much into fashion tbh, but if I had to pick probably model Kiri and artist Baku? I just don’t think Baku would be able to stay still enough to get photographed, and he wouldn’t like the photographer bossing him around anyway, and catwalks would be impossible for him to stomach imho, he’s too restless for it! At least it’s the way I see it haha

Anon said: fdgdhdkfhdafs i had a thought, what if bakugo prefers dogs and kirishima prefers cats and when they meet each other and become friends it's like, "oh." because they have some striking similarities to their fave animals

That’s been my headcanon for a while now, actually!! I think for me it came from two characters in a manga I like that are a lot like a dog and a cat but have inverted fav animals and when I read about that I was like “oh, right, makes sense since they like each other” and then my brain turned it krbk because when does it not lmao

Anon said: your art is the soothing balm to my soul recently, thank you for posting so much beautiful content. i hope you have a lovely week. ♡

sob thank you so much, I’m glad my doodling can help you feel better ;; <3

Anon said: Friendly reminder anon from last time: that post I left last time I had only eaten 7 gingersnaps that day and hadn’t drank any water. So that encouraged me to actually self care. Thank you.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! well I hope you’re taking care of yourself today too! And as fair trade, I’ll do the same myself! <3

Anon said: Hi! I'm an artist and I'm thinking of making a sideblog for my art. Do you have any tips?

Ah man, I’m sorry but I’m not the best person to ask this to! I started this sideblog cause I had too many followers on my main and I didn’t want my stuff to be seen by that many people at first, so whatever I did probably isn’t what you’re looking for :( but really there isn’t much to it, just post whatever you like to draw, tag it as best as you can (but remember that only the first five tags appear in the search page) and be patient, since whatever you do at first you won’t get much attention anyway - the only real advice I can give is to draw something that makes you happy and that you’d draw anyway even if no one were to see it, it’ll make keep posting despite a possible lack of activity a lot easier!

Anon said: Your goge art🥺🥺

I just love them so much ( TT’’’TT)9

Anon said: how the fuck have i not been following you? I remember seeing your bakushima art in the bnha tag and always thinking it's so cute. Now you're into JJK too??? and the satosugu art??? fuckin, diabetes incarnate. I love it. I love you. Your art 10/10. I'm tired lmao.

WELL thank you for the follow!! And for thinking my stuff is cute!!!!! I do my best with that, I want all the soft things for my favs 😌

Anon said: Are you gonna draw Gojou/Getou comic?? 👉🏻👈🏻 WOULD LOVE TO READ IT

you mean an actual doujin? I don’t think I will, sorry! I’m really no good at long projects orz but thank you so much for wishing to read something like that from me!!! ;A;

Anon said: Hello! YOUR ART IS SO FREAKING GORGEOUSSSS!!! I love them so much!! If I may ask you one question. Between Getou amd Gojou, who do you see as top/bottom? Just curious

THANK YOU!!!!! And I honestly don’t care as long as they’re happy and together!!! please let them be happy and together 🙏🙏🙏

Anon said: i want you to know!!! i followed you for your kiribaku art but!!! i love your art so much that idc what you post because it's all just!!!! incredible and wonderful and stunning!!!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!! this means a lot to me so seriously thank you so much!!!!

Anon said: d'you think bakugo has like headaches or migraines after training or battles because of how loud his quirk is? like, i listen to music slightly too loud and my head is sending me to hell. (unless you go with the hoh hc which is also 👌)

I like to think Baku’s body is attuned enough to his own quirk that he wouldn’t get drawbacks of the kind tbh, though that wouldn’t be a bad thought for when he just starts to increase the output/width and strength of his explosions............ well, I myself suffer from chronic headaches and migraines so I’m always up for projecting on my favs ngl lmao

Anon said: so like... dragon kirishima's eyes glow right? like, if we equate his dragon-ness to unbreakable his eyes glow? they also glow when he's half shifted? honestly i just live glowing eyes

Oh hell yeah I’m all for that, definitely definitely, I love glowing eyes with my whole heart and Kiri’s eyes in unbreakable are just so!!!!!! NGH *chef kiss* the more of unbreakable there is in his dragon form the happier I am ( TT^TT)9

Anon said: me, scrolling through your blog: ah shit guess im gonna have to start watching jjk

!!!!! hope it won’t hurt you too much, anon!!

Anon said: dragon!kiri and bakugo having a tug-of-war match over a piece of meat. both have it in their mouths. both are determined to win.

Kiri is turned into his dragon form and Baku still wins, hell yeah

Anon said: your satosugu is top tier!! it's hard to find stuff for them that isn't straight up angst so your art has been super cool and also very very cute!! (tho if you went with angst, it wouldn't be a bad thing obviously)

AH I’m so happy to hear you like them!!!! but also happy you wouldn’t mind angst, as I do like them the best happy and soft but my brain, my brain has been throwing sads my way for a while now 👀 I got some ideas

Anon said: What program/device do you use??

Easy Paint Tool SAI and a wacom intuos!! Though I got myself an ipad+procreate just yesterday and I’ve been messing around with it, let’s see how that one goes!

Anon said: *inahles* i am simping for mohawk man please tell me everything about your ocs immediately or i will detonate

THANK YOU FOR LIKING HIM HE’S CALLED DAVIDE Dav for short, he’s a cat of a man and a music instrument enthusiast (mostly string ones, but he’s very good with the piano as well) - he works in a music instruments store, and he’s a uni student majoring in philosphy! He doesn’t like bothersome things, he isn’t very good at taking anything seriously or putting effort in stuff, but he’s very chill to spend time with and generally a nice chat both if you want mindless thoughts or deep conversations (he’s a philosophy major after all). He can’t sing for shit, he’s got two cats (tago and schelly!), and he just wants a quiet life to laze around but all his friends are hurricanes in human bodies, but then again, he picked them himself so he can’t complain. He’s a good boy!! I’m planning a comic for him and his boy Ross >:]

#fran answers #SORRY FOR THE DELAY #i wish i could say i was busy but actually i just got distracted #ah also #jjk spoilers #cause my sis has a habit of readin my asks and she can't know about the otp just yet #lol #is the readmore for this showing? this is pretty damn long....#long post #just to be sure

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taeyohonic · 4 years

Text

stolen dances | chap. V

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: one/two swear words

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 1500

links: prev. | next

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: a muffin never tasted so bittersweet

can you believe it’s been three years? i miss you army

you can’t help the bittersweet memories flooding your mind at jungkook’s tweet. it’s been such a long time since bangtan stood in front of their fans – performing their music to the people who adored them with all their hearts.

you, yourself, were part of this crowd, more times than your bank account wishes to remember. their stage presence was so enticing, so alluring, you could not not fall in love with them.

jungkook shared some pictures in his tweet, old photos of jin and him demolishing a plate of deep-dish pizza in chicago, of jimin and taehyung posing in front of their pop up store in seoul, and one with all four of them bowing to the crowd in tokyo dome.

there is a smile on your face – not because you think about their shared journey, but because your best friend chose photos of events that you attended. sure, you hadn’t known them back then. but it can’t be a coincident that you have similar pictures – granted from another perspective – on your own camera roll. it makes you miss him.

“what’s going on?”, yoongi asks as he slides your coffee across the table. your starbucks is full of people, but namjoon, yoongi’s dear friend, works here. so, there is always a spot cleared for you. you don’t mind the special treatment as you sip your white mocca.

“just thinking”, you mumble, warmed by the caffeine.

“that can’t be good”, he says and sips his iced americano. he looks as tired as you feel. yoongi is recording his second mixtape right now. so, after he finishes his work talking to people about their problems, he starts rewriting, taping, recording, mixing and editing. no wonder he looks like death.

“i have you know that i’m actually thinking 67 percent of the day.”

“that can’t be good as well, ______. please use your brain more often – it might evolve with training.”

you gap at his audacity. “you do know i’m not paying you to talk me down, right?”

yoongi’s eyes smile while his lips are still half asleep. “you’re not paying me right now, _____. we are just friends meeting up for coffee before we have to… be a part of the working class.”

“i still can’t believe i get to see beautiful, brilliant, boisterous butterflies”, you say. your friend answers with an unattractive snort as his hands move into his thick, bleached hair.

“and i can’t believe you’re getting paid to watch bonkers, brackish, boring butterflies.”

you look away as you see his biceps flex. when did get this muscular? it takes a second for you to register his insult. maybe you need another coffee before leaving.

“i do have to care about my class as well, yoongi. it’s not all sunshine and butterflies. it’s also children’s snot and education.” still, you’re not making eye contact. if this was a therapy session, he’d ask for you to look at him, to ask why you’re feeling uncomfortable. but here, you are… just his friend.

“your work is important, _____, i know”, yoongi answers honestly. he knows how much you love these animals and children. and it is a big deal that seoul’s butterfly exhibition opens up just for your excursion. it makes him happy to see you this excited.

“and because i know that, i’ll remind you that you had to leave three minutes ago.” what? your eyes rush to your watch, only to widen in surprise.

“damn it, namjoon”, you mutter. your barista friend did take a long time with your order.

“don’t blame joon, _____. we were the ones who missed the train”, your friend reminds you as you put on your jacket in a rush.

“less correcting me, more helping me, yoongi”, you shush at him and make a motion to your heavy bag right next to his chair. “come on.”

yoongi doesn’t know why he agreed to help you carry all the lunch packs to school, he really doesn’t. nevertheless, he gets up and slings the heavy bag onto his shoulder and grabs his half-finished drink.

“let’s go – teacher of the year.”

the exhibition is amazing. you feel true bliss walking around the nature themed rooms, all home to one of the most rare, beautiful creatures. the kids hang on their tour guide’s lips as she tells them interesting facts about butterflies.

your phone is a constant companion – the camera roll now filled with funny pictures for the moms and dads to enjoy at the next parent-teacher conference. there are even a few photos of just you with a pink butterfly resting on your shoulder. jisoo, your coworker, is an amateur instagrammer, so the results of her taking your pictures are… really flattering.

now, the kids enjoy their break before you guys leave to drive back to school.

“really, you amaze me, ___”, your coworker says as she sits next to you on the bench – eyes trained on your students chasing around the butterflies.

“why?”, you ask, your attention monopolized by the two boys in a heated exchange over their shared butterfly net.

“getting the exhibition to open up just for our class? after hours? without additional fees?”

you flinch at her words as your heartbeat quickens. “wha- what? jisoo? i-“, you start to stutter, “i thought… you organized that.”

there is a fruit basket waiting on her desk with a thank you note for all her planning. now jisoo, too, looks uncomfortable.

“i didn’t”, she says.

it takes you a long time before you reach out. the whole train ride was spent with a pro and contra list on your ipad. then, while you were making yourself a two-person bowl of ramen, you crafted more than one email, only to delete every attempt. you haven’t talked to jungkook for more than five days. that’s the longest period the two of you ever went without seeing each other.

there is still a tightness in your chest when you think about his insult that night on the terrace. at first, you weren’t sure if jungkook realized that he hurt you – admittedly you aren’t the best with communicating your feelings. but your cold responses to his texts the next day must have been enough of a red flag for him to act.

then came the gifts: a triple chocolate muffin, still warm, delivered to your home before you had to leave on monday.

on tuesday, there was a singed copy of the unreleased album from one of your favorite kpop groups.

the next day, there was a poem collection where he scribbled in some commentary. you nearly teared up at that because this used to be your ritual when you first got to know each other: lending books with marked and commented pages for the other to enjoy.

on thursday he was strangely silent – only a single daisy decorated your briefcase.

but now, on friday, he went out of his way to get your class into this exhibition. you don’t even want to think about what that must have cost him.

there is an uneasiness in your fingertips as you dial his number. for one fleeting moment you want to call your therapist instead. but you can’t… because you may have left your whole “cold-shoulder-to-jungkook”-move out of the last session. and you really can’t take yoongi’s probing right now.

he answers after seven rings, breathlessly happy.

“______”

you smile and it’s not uncomfortable.

“jungkook… you didn’t have to”, you greet him and can’t help the endearment in your voice. he picks up on that and chuckles.

“of course, i didn’t… i wanted to.”

“thank you”, you answer, “it was really the highlight of my week.”

you can hear his cockiness at your words. “better than stray kids’ new album?”

“better than your thoughts on contemporary poems”, you counter teasingly. then, there is a beat of silence.

“______”, jungkook begins, “i… i really didn’t want you to think i’m not … or that i wouldn’t… do anything for you. you mean so much to me… it’s a shame i have to prove it to you… it should be… obvious.”

you suck in air as if your life depends on it. his words warm your heart and his awkwardness makes you smile.

“i get that i wasn’t the best of friends… but i’ll improve – trust me!”, jungkook vows with fire in his voice. “the winter collection has been kicking my ass… my family has been nagging about christmas… and the wedding…”

there is a beat of silence you do not dare to interrupt. this is his moment, not your responsibility.

jungkook collects himself fast and continues. “i know how much you’ve done for this wedding, for me… for us… and i want to be more involved… i’ll be by your side for all of next week’s appointments. ms yang already cleared my schedule.”

jungkook wants… to be by your side when you talk to the dj? the cake decorator? when you finalize the seating chart? dear lord.

“let’s spend some quality time together, ____. just you and me… and the wedding.”

you cannot find the right responds as you gap silently into your phone. after a moment, another voice is heard through the speaker.

“ask her if she liked the muffin i baked her.” his fiancée’s words punch you in the gut without ill-intent.

___

hi guys! I hope you are doing well! i had to take my first covid test this week – it was negative but that’s an experience for itself, right? i hope you are healthy and you enjoyed this chapter. i’d really love to hear your thoughts! next up: junkook and the reader tackling some of the wedding preparation… love, dana

taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad

#btswriterscollective #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook angst #ceo!jungkook #idol!jungkook #rich!jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst

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mossybee-exe · 3 years

Text

Customer Service|Hawks x Reader

Your job wasn't a really excited one, but it paid well so you didn't care.

It's not like you have a great quirk that would allow you to become a hero even if you wanted to so you were fine with it.

Your job was to supply pro heroes small essentials that they ordered. Such as giving pros a healthy lunch if they forgot it, capture rope for villains, etc.

But you also did other things like photo shoots for magazines, artwork, etc.

For the most part, you didn't care who came in even if they were a popular one, as they were always nice and paitent with you. Even when they weren't the nicest, you didn't have a problem with them.

But for some reason, there is one pro hero who you can not STAND! And that was the Number Two Pro Hero Hawks.

You had never met the guy but just from the talk shows he would be on or what you read in magazines, and how he acted, it just made you so annoyed for some reason. You thought he was a bit of an idiot.

But since you never met him you didn't care all that much.

That was until one very slow and boring Friday at your store.

You were just packing up another lunch into a bento box and in a brown paper bag for the next hero that would come in, when you hear the front door ding as someone walked in.

"Welcome to Hero's Spotlight! How may I help-" But you stop mid sentence when turn around and see the one person who you couldn't stand.

Hawks.

This day just got less pleasant. You think to yourself.

You do your best to keep your friendly smile on as he walked over with his usual smirk. "Hey there. I'm here for a photoshoot for Hero Daily." He tells you. "Oh I see.. well the just step over here for me!" You reply pointing towards the photo equipment.

You grit your teeth as you kept smiling as you don't want to give bad Customer Service otherwise your boss would chew you out with it.

You position him so he's facing the green screen sideways and he stood straight with his hands stuffed in his pockets and he stares off ahead of him.

You were about to take a picture when you noticed his wings wouldn't stop twitching and moving. "I need you to be still! That includes your wings!" You tell him in the NICEST tone and smile you could muster.

"But I can't stay still for long!" He complains. Knowing him, that is entirely possible, as he lives in a fast moving world. You honestly think he goes TOO fast and doesn't take time to stop and enjoy life around him.

"It's just for a second! You'll be fine!" You tell him and he sighs returning to his position. This time he was able to stay still and you got a couple of good shots.

You got a few more pictures in different poses until he was finally done. "Done! Happy now??" You ask, a little bit of hostility in your tone as you didn't want to spend much more time with this guy.

"Finally!" Hawks says with a sigh as he follows you back to the front desk. "I will send these pictures to the editor and that will be ¥1300!" You tell him as you stored your camera down below the counter where it usually went.

"Yes ma'am." He replies giving you the money before heading out of your store. You sigh of relief, glad it was over. Now it was nothing but smooth sailing for the rest of your work shift.

You hoped at least.

The next few days, Hawks kept coming back for either more pictures, or capture rope, or a lunch cuz he forgot to make one.

Each time he visited, you got less and less paitent.

Eventually, you couldn't take it anymore! The day you snapped you were already not having a good day. When Hawks came in and rushed you to get him a special requested lunch packed, you just couldn't take it anymore.

You were tired of his annoying "flirty responses," sarcastic remarks, and pressure of rushing you to get it.

Once again moving in his fast paced world.

"That's it! I'm already having an AWFUL day and I don't need YOU coming in here rushing and stressing me out! I know your world is fast, but you NEVER stop to appreciate it and rush into everything!! But I DON'T like being rushed so could you just be quiet for one second?!"

You tell angrily and immediately guilt had over taken you as Hawks' am, turning to a frown, and h had a blank expression, but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You sighed and finished packing his lunch before handing it to him. "I'm sorry. Just take your lunch. It's free." You reply as you bowed, not daring to look up at his face as you were ashamed in yourself.

You expected Hawks to reply with his usual optimistic tone.

"Don't worry about it!"

"Nah don't sweat it! It's fine!"

But no. He didn't say anything. You just heard his footsteps walk away and out the door as it rung. You sigh and hide your face with your hands.

That was the worst think you could possibly say.

He was the NUMBER TWO HERO for heaven's sake!

But what was done was done. You couldn't reverse it.

A few weeks pass and Hawks never once returned to your store. You knew why. You knew he was disgusted with you, or hurt by your harsh words and tone. You were immediately regretting how you treated him.

Good news is, your boss hasn't approached you about it so at least he didn't report the situation to her!

But feeling the guilt was worse than any punishment you could ever get from your boss.

One day though, on your day off, you were walking through the relaxing and beautiful park near your apartment complex. You figured by now Hawks probably forgot all about how you yelled at home but even if he did, you could never.

You could never forget the hurt in his eyes and the fact he walked out silently.

You hoped a walk would help clear your head. But low and behold you saw Hawks sitting on a bench a few feet away, looking around.

He had his content smirk on and had casual wear on. And you hadn't realized until now, but as the sun's ray hit him at just the right angle, he looked like an angel from heaven.

You quickly pushed that thought away though as you felt a slight blush appear on your cheeks. You were about to turn and walk the other way, as you couldn't even bare being near him afraid he may yell something hurtful at you.

Which you probably deserved anyway.

But you knew you couldn't run from this any longer, so you decided to take it. You walked over to him and stood in front of him. From the way his smirk disappears again, you knew he recognized you.

You then look down and then get on your knees and bowed to him. "I am very very sorry for how I had treated you at my store. I just ask for your forgiveness! If you want to yell at me, I deserve it." You tell him.

You didn't care if people were watching now, you just didn't want to live with this guilt anymore.

Truth being, he really wasn't all that bad! You were just overreacting! Maybe sometimes he annoyed you but nothing extreme.

That's when you hear Hawks laugh and you look up to see him laughing and smiling before looking down at you. "I was never mad at you! Why would I be mad?" He tells you, and as relived you were by him not being angry, you felt yourself a bit annoyed.

He was never angry yet you suffered the past few weeks, feeling awful and thinking he was mad!

"Look I get it. Everyone just has those days, so I don't care! Infact I'm actually taking your advice now! I decided to slow down today and just enjoy nature." Hawks tells you while he grabbed your hands and helped you back up to your feet.

You then sat down beside him as he stared back at the bright green trees. "You were right about just taking a moment to enjoy life. It relieves a lot of stress as well." He adds while you just stared at him.

You were not only glad he wasn't angry or upset with you, but he also took your advice! You also couldn't get over how he looked like an angel in the light. A handsome one at that.

You felt a light blush before looking forward as well. What were you thinking?! This was the Number Two hero! Even if you did like him, he was busy with life and didn't have time for a partner. Plus you barely knew him.

But you guys talked for the rest of the afternoon before you both get ready to part ways.

"Well this was nice!" You tell him. After getting to know him better, you realized he wasn't at all that bad of a guy. "Yeah! But I never actually got your name." He points out. "Oh right! It's Y/N!" You reply.

"I see. Well, call me Teigo." He says writing something down before handing you the paper. "There's my number so we can keep chatting. See ya around!" He says before walking off.

You blush and close your eyes.

The guilt finally gone.

#bnha #mha #MHA #mha hawks #mha reader insert #mha x reader

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bellaireland1981 · 4 years

Text

New Beginnings: Ch 3

Characters: Andy Barber x Single Mom! Briella James (Named Reader), Jacob Barber, Ava James

Summary: Briella James is a HS teacher and has Jacob in her class. Jacob meets Briella’s 5 year old daughter and they form a bond. Andy is interested in Briella but her ex (and Ava’s dad) is becoming a problem!

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some angst, jerk of an ex that harasses Briella… will update in future chapters.

word count: 1922

A/N: I do Not own Andy Barber or Jacob Barber, they are fictional characters. I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work or translate it to another site. Reblogs always welcome! This is my FIRST EVER attempt at writing for Andy…or any character, so be gentle! THANK YOU to my friends for supporting me and encouraging me! I’m my own worst critic so I love their feedback! @denisemarieangelina @fluffymisha97 @jamielea81

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 (?)

Ava had gone to bed without any complaint the night before. Spending all day at the zoo and getting ice cream had worn her out. After she went to bed you’d had time to sit and think about what Andy had said. You knew he was probably right about you ex, you were just scared to further set him off. Up to this point, he’d pretty much left you alone. You worried that if you pressed the issue, he’d make trouble for you or worse, for Ava.

You also had to admit that you’d very much enjoyed spending the day with Andy. He was easy to talk to and fun to be around. He was an amazing dad to Jacob and was sweet in his interactions with Ava. While you definitely enjoyed his company, you were still unsure whether or not he would be interested in anything other than just being friends, and if he was, was dating the father of one of your student’s a good idea?

With everything running through your head, you didn’t get much sleep. You dragged yourself out of bed when you heard Ava get up, slowly making your way to the kitchen. She was already on the couch watching cartoons, so you decided to take advantage and start the coffee before getting her some breakfast.

After your coffee was ready, you poured yourself a cup and then set to making Ava some French Toast and Scrambled eggs. While you were cooking, you heard your phone ping with new messages but decided they could wait, assuming it was just your ex again.

“Ava, come eat breakfast,” You called her once the food was done. “You have to eat and get ready, Papa will be picking you up soon.”

“Yay! I can’t wait to tell Papa about the zoo! And Jacob and his daddy!” She said excitedly. She came in and sat down at the counter and started eating her breakfast.

“I’m sure he’ll love to hear all about the zoo, Monkey.” You confirmed. And later, you were sure to get the third degree about Andy and Jacob. Sometimes you wished your brother and sister in law lived closer so that your parents could fuss over them once in a while.

“Mommy?” Ave asked, swallowing a mouthful of her French toast, “When can I see Jacob and his daddy again?”

“I don’t know, Babygirl” You replied, “I’m glad you had fun with them though.”

“I did!” She said, “I wish Jacob was my brother. Katie, at school, always talks about her brother and they do fun stuff together.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Your heart broke that she didn’t have a sibling. You knew how nice it was growing up with your own brother. Ava didn’t even have cousins that lived close. Thankfully, your dad arrived, which saved you from having to come up with a response.

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Your dad said, entering the kitchen, “Morning, Ava Bug! Are you ready to go out on the boat?”

“Yup!” She said, happily, “I’m ready!”

“Go grab your jacket and put your shoes on, Monkey.” You instructed her.

While Ava got her jacket and shoes on, you placed her plate in the dishwasher and wiped down the counter.

“What are your plans today?” Your dad asked.

“I’m going to go get groceries and then come back and get some stuff done around the house.” You replied, “I’ve got some grading I should catch up too.”

“Try to do something that’s just for you, Sweetheart,” He said, hugging you, “It’s ok, to do things for yourself too, doesn’t make you a bad mom, teacher, or daughter.”

“Thanks, Dad.” You replied smiling, “I will try to squeeze some me time in there as well.”

“We’re happy to keep Ava Bug overnight, if you want to get out with other adults and paint the town red.”

“I’m not in my twenties anymore dad” You laughed, “No need to go out drinking or partying with friends. The recovery takes too long now.”

“The offer still stands” He insisted, “Being the only grandchild in the state, we’re more than happy to spoil her.”

“She’s more than happy to let you!” You said, shaking your head.

Ava came bounding back into the room, declaring she was ready and all but dragged your dad out the door. After quick hugs and a reminder to her to listen, they were off for their adventure.

Once they were out the door, you grabbed your phone to look at the missed text messages and phone calls.

You read through the texts, seeing that they were all from your ex. You were starting to get worried with the increase in calls and texts from him. He was clearly escalating. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves.

You decided to go get dressed and try to clear your head before making a decision on what to do about the texts and calls. You’d promised Andy you’d think about taking actions to get your ex to stop harassing you, and you had to admit he was probably right.

By the time you got dressed and brushed through your hair, you’d made the decision to go about your day as planned, and you would reach out to Andy in an email on Monday.

You grabbed your car keys and purse, tucking your phone in your pocket and made your way out to your car. You blasted your upbeat playlist, hoping it would work to calm the remaining nerves before you got to the grocery store.

You were able to get the shopping done in record time without having to negotiate all the treats with Ava. You had a feeling she’d make a great lawyer someday. With the shopping done, you decided to reward yourself and grab a coffee from the small coffee shop around the corner from the grocery store.

As you stood in line, you heard your phone ding several times, alerting you to new messages. You pulled your phone out to check, and felt your anxiety increase again. You sent a text back asking to be left alone, knowing he’d ignore it.

“Fancy running into you here” A voice sounded behind you, startling you and causing you to flinch. “Woah, Brielle, are you ok?”

Finally recognizing the voice, you turned around, taking a deep breath and trying to calm your racing heart.

“Andy,” You replied, quietly, “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention so missed when you came in.”

“You do realize I’m a lawyer, and can see right through that right?” He said gently, “You’re showing all the classic signs of distress. How about you have a seat while I get us coffees and then you can tell me what’s causing that distress.”

“I appreciate the offer,” You replied, “I have groceries in the car though, and wasn’t planning on staying.”

“I don’t think driving when you’re upset is a great idea either,” He reasoned, “It’s cool enough, the groceries should be fine while you have one cup of coffee.”

“Ok,” You smiled, softly, “You’re pretty good at bargaining.”

“Professional hazard” he joked, “What would you like? And before you argue, I’m buying the coffee and you’re going to sit and breathe.”

“Yes, Sir,” you smiled, “Mocha Latte, please.”

“Coming right up” He said, smiling warmly, “Grab us a table.”

You quickly found a table in one of the corners, figuring Andy would be grilling you over why you were upset, you didn’t want the rest of the cafe to hear the conversation.

Andy set your coffee down in front of you and took a seat in the chair next to you.

“Thank you” You said, placing your hands around the warm up.

“You’re welcome” He replied, “How many more messages have you gotten from him?”

“Today? Or since you read the messages yesterday?” You asked to clarify, but mostly to stall.

“Sweetheart, if you have to ask that, it’s time to put a stop to it.” He said gently. Your heart fluttered at the endearment.

“I’ve gotten 9 more texts and 4 voicemails just since this morning.” You admitted, “I sent a text back asking him to stop, but I’m guessing that’s not going to be effective.”

“Probably not,” He agreed, “But it’s a good first step. Are the texts the same as yesterday or more aggressive?”

“They’re the same, just more frequent.” You said, “Honestly, I just want him to leave me alone. I don’t want to have to worry about him suddenly popping up or worry about if he’s going to demand to see Ava.”

“Are you willing to let me help you?” He asked gently.

“If you’re sure it’s not a bother…” You said, giving in, “I would very much appreciate the help.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to help,” He assured you, “Besides, my motives are purely selfish.”

“How so?” You asked, smiling.

“It gives me a reason to see more of you, which hopefully leads to us getting to know one another more, and in the interest of full disclosure, once this is all cleared up, I’m going to ask you for a date.” He admitted, smiling.

“In the interest of full disclosure,” You replied, “once this is all cleared up, I’ll probably say yes.”

“Probably?” He asked, laughing, “I can work with that.”

“You may have to run it by the boss…” you teased, “She’ll probably grill you on your knowledge of Disney Princesses.”

“I better do some research then.” He said, “I want to make sure I can pass with flying colors.”

“Ava was asking this morning when she can see Jacob again.” You said, “Seems she is very taken with him.” You left out the part about her wishing he was her brother.

“How would you feel about Jake and I coming to your house tomorrow?” He suggested, “He can keep Ava occupied while we sort through paperwork so I can get it done and filed with the court on Monday?”

“The only way I will agree to be the reason you have to work on a Sunday is if you at least let me cook you and Jacob dinner.” You bargained.

“You drive a hard bargain,” he joked, “I will happily accept those terms.”

“Any food allergies or aversions” You asked, “I was thinking about making lasagna tomorrow.”

“Jake and I eat pretty much anything.” he confirmed, “And lasagna sounds like Heaven.”

“I’ll plan on dinner then for around 5:30, but you are welcome to come any time.” You said, “And really, I cannot thank you enough for this.”

“No thanks are needed,” He said, “I’ve already admitted this is purely selfish on my part. Jake and I will come around 3:30, we’ll want to make sure Miss. Ava gets enough hang out time with Jake.”

“You’ll be her new favorite person.” You teased, “3:30 is perfect.”

“I’ve heard she’s the one I need to impress anyway in order to gain approval to ask her mom out.” He winked. “In the meantime, try not to look at messages from your ex or stress over the calls. We’ll get it all worked out soon. And do not say ‘thank you’ again!” he laughed, see you opening your mouth to do just that.

Andy walked you out to your car and you said your goodbyes before heading home to get groceries put away and laundry sorted. You were very much looking forward to dinner the next day.

@waywardodysseys @nickysurfer28

#andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x oc #chris evans fanfiction

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allegedlyanandroid · 3 years

Note

Pairing: Allen60 Prompt: Cold Types: Found Family, Fluff AU: Angels and Demons, Sixty as the little devil he is, and Allen just being human.

I am so late 😅 I wrote an entire thing before realising I hated every word of it and started over from scratch. Anyway... excuses aside, I hope you like it @yayen-chan <3 `(‾◡◝)´

“Okay, bookshelves first,” Allen mutters, following the intricate maze of arrows and concrete as he tries to navigate the local IKEA. “Or rugs. That works too,” he sighs when he glances up and finds himself in the wrong part of the store. Looking through the copious amounts of different rugs Allen rapidly finds himself overwhelmed. He tries reading a few of the ridiculously complicated names, stuttering over them when trying to read them out loud. “Ra- raskmol- mölle?”

Giving up on the fifth time trying to pronounce it correctly Allen rolls the grey-and-black striped fabric up and tosses it on the cart, already dreading trying to find the rest of the items on his list. There’s only one really but when passing through the plant-section he stops to pick up a potted plant. The other one is beyond salvaging from lack of water. “Ilex, foreeneling? För-enlig. What are these names?”

After another dead-end and some frustrated grumbling, he does find the bookshelf he needs. Honestly… this trip alone solidifies why he’s never getting a puppy. The one he took in to foster was a sweet thing but very demanding and unaware that he weighed quite a lot for a pup. He’d knocked Allen’s bookshelf over, thus breaking it, and also had an accident on his rug. If being petless meant never having to go here again then that’s a price he’s willing to pay. At least the shelter had found a family for him quickly and, while he did miss the little rascal, the puppy was undoubtedly in better hands.

“Kallax, hemnes... gersby?”

Too caught up in his own head he doesn't notice the strange scent of warm brimstone and ash filtering through the air nor does he notice the young “man” standing behind him, a man who seemingly appeared out of thin air, until he hears the sound of a throat clearing. Allen jerks his head up from wrestling with the cardboard box and offers an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Or, you could tell me why I’m here and spare me the mundane small talk you humans seem so obnoxiously fond of.”

“I’m sorry?”

The man squints. “You summoned me.”

Allen pauses to take a good look at the man. He’s tall with black, artistically tousled hair and endless amounts of freckles. A few moles are scattered across his skin and his brown eyes are filled with irritation. Dark jeans with a long-sleeved shirt tucked into it, a black overcoat ending at about mid-thigh and a purple scarf hanging unknotted around his neck. Allen thinks long and hard yet finds no recollection of ever seeing this man before in his life let alone speaking to him. “I have no idea who you are.”

“You-” the man pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply and slowly let it out before starting again. “You read the incantation to evoke me and you what… didn’t even realise it?” he asks and receives nothing but a blank stare from Allen in return. “Ugh, humans.”

In the blink of an eye the man transforms. Horns curve with the shape of his skull, producing from close to his temples, before ending in sharp tips that blend in with his raven hair. A black tail is wrapped around his leg which ends with a jagged spear-like point. The tips of his fingers look like they’ve been dipped in charcoal, fading into dark grey about halfway up his fingers, with claw-like black nails top it all off. They tap against the metal shelf next to them as the demon slowly advances.

Too shocked to move, Allen’s jaw is taken in a firm grip and when the demon smiles his teeth are pointed blades. “So… are you going to tell me what it is you want?”

“You can let go of my face for a start,” Allen says, adding a quick “thank you,” when the demon does as he’s told. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me Sixty.”

“Sixty,” Allen repeats. “No offence but I quite like having my soul intact. I’m sorry for dragging you from… whatever circle of hell you reside in, but I’m not interested in making any sort of deal with you.”

“Sucks to be you then because I’m not leaving until you do,” Sixty says and from his tone of voice alone Allen knows he’s a hundred percent serious.

‘Fucking IKEA.’

“Really? You couldn’t have chosen to live somewhere a bit warmer?” Sixty asks with disdain, thankfully back to looking human. His feet sink into the four inches worth of snow dusting the ground and he can already feel the cold seeping in through the gaps in his clothing. “Or somewhere nicer in general.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay.”

“No one’s forcing you to live here.” A pause. “Or if they are, I am more than willing to kill them for you free of charge.”

Allen sighs.

Having a demon for a housemate isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Sixty mostly keeps to himself whenever he isn’t trying to get a rise out of him or complaining about the cold or putting things on tall shelves like the little shit he is. Until Sixty gets bored that is.

Because when Sixty gets bored trouble ensues.

Emerging from his office after a long day of meetings to see his demonic housemate casually chatting with parts of his team in the breakroom is a bit out of left field and the sight of Sixty’s mischievous eyes boring into his own is enough to quicken his pace. “What are you doing here, Si- Silas?” he asks, forcing a smile on his face.

He hates how no one else can look past the innocent brown eyes and syrupy grin to see the smugness beneath. “I thought we were supposed to eat lunch together? Did you forget?”

“No, of course not,” Allen hastens to say, ignoring Willis and Clark’s knowing grins, as he wracks his brain for a response. “Though I distinctly remember asking you to wait outside.”

“It would have been rude of me to decline Julie’s offer of getting coffee,” Sixty replies and raises his mug as if to show it off.

“No need to be jealous, boss. We just wanted to get to know the guy better,” Julie says.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’ve ever seen you hang out with anyone outside of work apart from Reed,” Clark pipes up. “We got curious.”

“I’m not jealous!” Allen tries to defend himself, latching on to the word, but the agitated tone does nothing to help his case. Sixty smirking behind the rim of the coffee cup like a cat who got the cream isn’t helping to improve his mood either.

“You are the pettiest asshole I’ve ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting,” Allen says when they’re safely away from prying eyes.

Sixty snickers, knowing full well the amount of endless curiosity and ceaseless questions he’s unleashed on the human. “There’s an easy way to get rid of me.”

The fistful of snow he gets shoved in his face shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

By the time he manages to blink the melting snow out of his eyes Allen is too far away to retaliate, though that doesn’t stop Sixty from trying.

Despite his best efforts Sixty’s irritation with being unceremoniously dragged into the mortal plane dissipates after the third week of staying with Allen. By the time he’s been there for a month and a half, Allen’s team have adopted him as one of their own and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. They genuinely care about his well-being and often invite him along on outings. As someone whose family is… overbearing, their light-hearted ribbing is a nice change of pace. Their easy dynamic is the very opposite of stifling. No one ever pries when he declines to answer a question. No one touches him after he made it clear he dislikes physical contact. No one quizzes him about his every movement.

It’s… nice.

The next team building exercise and subsequent photo op, proudly displayed on the communal fridge, includes him and Sixty doesn’t cry even a little bit upon seeing that.

Not at all.

In the end, the shift in their relationship is near seamless ‒ from reluctant roommates to friends to something more.

What hits him first is the metallic scent of fresh blood and Sixty is halfway across the room before he can even process rising to his feet. He gathers Allen up in his arms and leads him to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. Part of his dark shirt is tacky with blood and Sixty feels no remorse when he shreds it to get it off as quickly as possible. Something, a bullet or knife, must have grazed his side. It’s bleeding sluggishly though it thankfully isn’t deep. Sixty takes the ruined shirt and presses it against the wound. “Keep putting pressure on it.”

Allen doesn’t answer and in the end he’s the one who has to move Allen’s hand to take over while he dashes to the bathroom for the medkit. Sixty plunks it down on the floor and fills a bowl of lukewarm water to put down beside it before fetching a clean towel. He kneels down between Allen’s legs and cleans meticulously around the area, noting the patches of skin where bruises are slowly forming. Swiping over the wound with antiseptic earns him a bitten-off hiss and Sixty puts a hand on Allen’s sternum to steady him after the first involuntary flinch.

He keeps it there, soothed by feeling the steady thrum of Allen’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips, until he needs the use of both his hands. In its absence, Sixty’s tail comes up to wrap loosely around his thigh for comfort.

Butterfly bandages instead of sutures, his tail instead of his hand. Allen doesn’t say a word about either choice though he is smiling down where they’re connected once Sixty chances a quick peek.

There’s nothing left for him to do after covering the wound with gauze, taping the edges down, yet Sixty finds himself lingering there regardless.

It’s easy to trace around the gauze with the very tip of a claw and when he catches Allen’s dark eyes the urge to lean down to place a gentle kiss over it wins out. Allen sighs quietly and coaxes Sixty up to kiss him properly ‒ a chaste press of lips against lips followed by a sincere thank you.

Sixty blushes and knocks his forehead against Allen’s, mindful of his horns, in a silent show of affection.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Because I literally stepped in the door a second ago?” Allen laughs and pulls Sixty in for a quick kiss.

“Excuses,” Sixty sniffs and steals another kiss, one that quickly devolves into a dozen pecks being pressed all over his face until Allen plants a last lingering one to his lips.

“I love you,” Allen says when they break apart for real.

The shy smile spreading over Sixty’s lips is one he’ll never tire of seeing.

#slowly but surely working my way through these #sorry it's taking so long #dbh allen #captain allen #dbh sixty #rk800 sixty #allen60 #dbh #detroit: become human #detroit become human #allegedly answering asks #mini fic #my writing #that awkward moment when you're in an ikea and accidentally summon a demon

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cherriesink · 3 years

Text

Kurusu Shuutarou - Murmurs

Murmurs are snippets of character reflection earned by increasing Explore Points during Exploration. They usually include 6-7 monologues about other characters and 3-4 monologues about things important to the specific character.

These lines are taken straight from the English translation of the game, so fair warning of bad grammar.

About Yatsufusa “Yatsufusa is like a younger brother to me so I’m always curious with him. I was just like him when I became a vampire myself.

Maeda, Yamagami, Suwa, and Takeuchi... I finally got used to my new body with their support. I was caught up with negative thoughts about our eternal life. But now, I just look what’s ahead of me and move onward. If that gives me another 100 years to live, so be it- That’s how my mind has shifted.

...Honestly, there is not a single good thing about being a vampire. But I started seeing things positively after finding out that even I could be useful. Yatsufusa hasn’t realized that just yet. I can tell from his eyes.

But nothing will change even if I try to convince him. In the end, he has to accept it himself. Of the abursdity of becoming a vampire and this entire world...

After all, none of us know the correct way to live as a vampire.”

About Maeda “Colonel Maeda is my boss... who leads Code Zero and is VERY intimidating... I’m stronger than him for sure, but I always shrink away from him when seeing his toughness.

I know he’s from Saga- and the master of Taisha, but Yamagami told me that it’s his original since he made “improvements” with his own techniques. Besides, he’s a monster since he can slash in the speed of light when his left arm is a prosthetic. He can defeat an unranked vampire, so it’s as if he’s a vampire himself. A vampire that doesn’t need to drink blood...

There’s Suwa, Takeuchi, and Yamagami...

After all, Colonel Maeda is the only person who can lead such a unit filled with vampires that are quite the character.

But I wish he can do something about bickering with Yamagami every single time. It stops our strategy meetings creating this awkward atmosphere... not to mention, it’s simply horrifying.”

About Yamagami “Yamagami is always agitated but he’s a nice person. He told me that he fell in love with his wife and got married. AND Yamagami was the one head over heels in love with her. In the end, he finally got her to date him after countless turndowns. That’s why he’s a devoted husband while being a vampire.

I know that he goes around to his wife’s house in the spare time of being on patrol. I’m sure it’s his routine until she passes away... Even if he can’t see her in person since she thinks he died with honor in service to the country...

We don’t get old. That’s why we cannot live in the same timeline as ordinary people. They are apart and we’ll never be able to see each other again, but Yamagami will continue to protect his wife. They live in a different timeline, but their bond as husband and wife will not change. That’s what I believe.”

About Takeuchi “When I first met Takeuchi, I thought he was the kindest person. He speaks politely too. Only... the things he talks about is way too terrifying! He makes tools and weapons that helps our weaknesses as a vampire. So it really helps and we appreciate him.

...But his eyes look scary. The way his mind works is scary, and what he says is scary. He always wants to test his new invention on Yamagami too...

He told me that the fund provided by the military is hardly anything at all, so he sells his his inventions at department stores. He said the sunscreen that protects us vampires from the sunlight is the most popular item. Apparently, it also brightens up the human skin and is making him a fortune. It’s amazing that he has the talent for making money too...

The only thing is, is that he’ll ask you to assist his experiment the moment you show any kind of interest...”

About Suwa “Apparently, Suwa joined Code Zero so he can kill vampires. A vampire that despises vampires... He said he was attacked by vampires that came along with the missionary during the Azuchi-Momoyama period...

His body contains a high concentration of vampire poison from numerous vampires. Takeuchi believes that his hair probably turned white because of the side effect. I guess that’s where his grudge towards vampires comes from...

I wonder how he managed to survive on his own for hundreads of years? Is he with us because he wants to kill vampires and that’s all...?

I hope he’s able to find peace even for a little bit by spending time with us since he’s lived in solitude for a very long time.”

About Defrott “Just like they say “Let sleeping dogs lie,” Defrott is harmless as long as you do not violate his territory. It seems he’s not interested in conflict between vampires. He’s like a little boy who’s a bystander of a play, waiting for the ending to come. Although... he is a few hundred years older than me, so he isn’t really a “boy.”

...But when he pretends to be one, I almost forget he is the strongest and most dangerous vampire in the world. I sometimes wonder if I can protect Code Zero- if Defrott challenges us to a serious battle. I doubt that I can... because I can tell Defrott has powers that even Takeuchi’s inventions and Colonel Maeda’s brain cannot withstand.

But i think a part of him is still human deep inside... He is a very interesting man.”

About Shinnosuke “I’m worried how lonely Shinnosuke looks sometimes. Boys his age probably go out with their friends but... I guess it’s hard for him since he’s busy working. Didn’t he say he was raised by vampires...?

I don’t have much to if he’s living a happy life... but I think it’s important to have a human friend around the same age as him. Because he’ll grow older than Ishikawa at this rate.

But he probably knows that- Vampires and humans can only spend a short amount of time together... more than me, a newbie vampire... I guess there isn’t anything I can say.

A human that despises his own kind and adores vampires instead- I hope he will learn to love humans one day. Although, who am I to say when I’m neither?”

About Family “I wonder how my friends and family are doing... They think I died in honor like Yamagami. I actually have my own grave and mortuary tablet too...

I want to come out and tell them that I’m fine whenever I see my childhood friend praying for me in front of my grave... But how can I come out to them that I’ve turned into a vampire? Besides, I’ll be breaking the rules of Code Zero.

I feel bad for making many people sad... How ironic- everyone thinks I’m dead but here I am with a never-ending life...

But I can’t be near them. I’ll watch over them just like how Yamagami is watching over his wife. I’ll watch over my friends and family... walking under the bright sun. Till the day comes they are filled with joy and happiness.”

About Drinking Blood “Yamagami and the others all tell me that I have to drink blood. But... I can’t.

They say that other animals’ blood- like mice will also do but tastes bad. That human blood tastes the best. But... I just don’t like the idea of drinking blood because I don’t think I can stay human once I do.

I know that I can’t keep this up forever. I know that... but it’s blood we’re talking about. I just can’t drink it no matter how much I’m told that it’s good... I mean, how can people bite into other people’s necks just like that just because they were told “You’re a vampire starting from today”!? I simply don’t get it.

I tried getting my nutrients through other things but Blood Candies have a weird smell... It would be a lie to say that I don’t have any thirst for blood. However, my desire for staying human is much stronger...

There are people who don’t like to eat meat. So why can’t there be a vampire that doesn’t like to drink blood...?”

About Vampires “I’ve met many vampires ever since I’ve joined Code Zero. Vampires that indiscriminately attack people like monsters. Vampires that find pleasure in killing people like psycho killers. Vampires that fall into despair and self-destruct...

But there are ones that can live with no problem just like Defrott. Some vampires work hard like a decent person and pay for blood. And then there’s us... those employed by the government hunting down our own kind.

There is no right answer to being a vampire, just like how there’s no right answer to being a human. There is no right or wrong. Still, we fear death while we live our never-ending lives...

This may last forever. Who knows what awaits in the future. I don’t even know how long I can keep up my human spirit... Perhaps it’s the end of me when one day I lose my humanness.”

#mars red #kurusu shuutarou

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

Build Me Up Buttercup *Part 9*

Weeeee!!!! Here we go, getting close to the end guys.

I’m glad so many people like it, it makes me happy.

Okay okay enough sappiness, we’re not dead yet.

Oh and gotta tag: @wanniiieeee

If you need to catch up:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Finale

Epilogue

“...Soooo, are we hoping he shows up, or not?”

Once again, your BFF was there to hear the latest escapades of the saga unfolding.

“Obviously NOT,” You scoffed, falling back onto the bed. It was stiff, almost…crusty. You tried desperately not to think about just what exactly went on in these rooms on a normal basis.

“Because….?”

“Because I don’t wanna just BANG IT OUT, that’s why!” you exclaimed, wondering why that wasn’t blatantly obvious.

“Yeah but didn’t you say that Barba said that he was still gonna care about you, even after sleeping with you?”

“Yeah…” you twirled your hair again.

“So then if he does come to you then you know he really does believe that, correct?” Your BFF pointed out.

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“Oh come on, you think that Barba would just have sex with you to prove a point to your sergeant?”

“I mean, what if he doesn’t care about me after, y’know...we fuck,” You said blatantly.

“Seriously?”

“Yes SERIOUSLY. Come on babe this has all happened SO fast, I mean it can’t be anything other than physical attraction,”

“You don’t believe that,”

“Of course I do! Look at me! Metaphorically. Guys don’t ‘date’ me, they wanna fuck me and leave me.

“Yeah, that’s usually because you fuck them before you give them even so much as a name, and then kick them out in the morning. Nice try,” Your BFF shot down your attempts to self deprecate.

“...Whatever,”

“Look, I love you. I know you’ve been through hell and back. But, at some point you have gotta let the past be the past, and realize that you’re not that girl anymore. You’re not 16, you’re a grown up. And a smart, beautiful one at that. A guy could easily fall in love with you,” they assured you.

“In less than 24 hours,” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay maybe not love, but certainly more than a dicking. I mean Christ Y/N if that’s all he was after he wouldn’t have defended you to Liv, he would’ve just begged her to let him have a day pass to fuck you and move on!”

“But, we’re so-- and he’s-- and I’m-- I just can’t see how we’re gonna…” You tried expressing your thoughts but it just wasn’t coming.

“Look, get out of your head. Just, stop. Stop overthinking it,”

“Yeah okay,” you said sarcastically.

Suddenly, there was a knock at your door.

“Y/N?” you heard Rafael’s muffled voice outside.

“SHIT,” You hissed into the phone, jumping off the bed.

“Is that him? I TOLD YOU,” your BFF laughed triumphantly.

“Shut up. I’ll call you later.” you tossed the phone on the bed, fluffed your hair as if that was going to help the situation, and opened the door.

“Hey, can I…?” He motioned inside, leaning into the doorway.

“First, I need you to be honest with me,” You put your hand up to his chest.

“Okay…”

“How drunk are you?”

“Seriously? I may not drink straight shots of tequila all the time, but that doesn’t mean I’m some old man lightweight,” he scoffed, very offended.

“That’s not an answer,”

“...Honestly? I think I’m more buzzed off that kiss earlier,” he smirked.

Damn he was smooth.

You rolled your eyes and opened the door, letting him walk in. You motioned for him to sit on the bed, to which he replied, “Yeahh….I don’t think I’ll be sleeping anywhere tonight. God knows what is on these,”

“Really? So how pray tell do you think we’re going to ‘bang it out’?” his head whipped around at that sentence.

“Christ almighty, again Y/N?! Privacy, google it,”

“Oh whatever, you two were practically screaming in the parking lot,” you scoffed.

“I swear to God, you are so--”

“So what? Stupid? Immature?”

“Infuriating!”

“Hello, kettle,”

“Oh really? How am I the bad guy here? Olivia sat there and basically called you a piece of ass, and I defended you!”

“And yet, here you are. Ready to fuck,” you presented your hands as if you were a platter.

Rafael put his hands over his face and paced the room.

“Ay dios mio, me voy a suicidar,” he muttered while pacing.

“Oh really, you wanna kill yourself? That’s a tad dramatic, counselor,” You scoffed again.

Rafael’s eyes widened, “You understood that?”

“I heard suicide,”

“Right...ok look,” he stopped pacing and stood in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“I’m not-- I don’t...want to just, ‘bang it out’,” He rolled his eyes at the notion.

“But, also-- I don’t not want to….y’know,” He gestured towards the bed with his head.

“...So you do, but you don’t,” you continued with the sarcasm.

“It’s not JUST what I want to do, carino,” he put a hand up to your cheek.

“Cards on the table, I would love nothing more than to rip that shirt off and ravish you right here, until we have to leave in….Jesus, 7 hours,” He shook his head, knowing he was never going to sleep tonight either way this went.

“Just not on the bed,” you half laughed.

“...Y’know what? For you, I would risk the thousands of venereal diseases that are seeped into these sheets,”

“....How romantic,”

“If you really knew me you’d know that is the peak of romance,”

“See that’s the thing Rafael-- I don’t really know you. Not really. And you don’t know me. We just...I don’t know, we had this little chemistry thing going all day, and then y’know you cleaned me up when I was crying, and then held my hand through my story, and I--”

“And that’s why you wanna sleep with me,” he dropped his hands and stepped back from you.

Your face fell, your eyes widened. It had never occurred to you that he would be the one doubting the sincerity of the situation.

“What? Seriously?”

“You just said I don’t really know you, you don’t really know anything about me, except that I helped you through a difficult situation and now you wanna ‘repay’ me, or you feel attracted to me because I made you feel good,”

Your jaw was on the floor; was he actually saying this? Was he this insecure this whole time?

“That is so not--” you tried to interject but he kept on.

“Then how do you explain it? This, this little attraction coming out of nowhere--”

“It didn’t come from nowhere,” you cut him off without thinking.

“Excuse me?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Are you a moron, counselor?” you asked, to which he just stared at you dumbfounded.

“You honestly think that just because you dried my tears in a bathroom and held my hand through a story, that I would just throw caution to the wind and make a very obvious, romantic grand gesture? In front of my BOSS? Olivia could’ve fired me at any point today for ‘fraternization” or “unprofessionalism”, or a million other things that have run through my mind. You think that I would just risk my career because I thought you were nice?!”

Now it was Rafael’s jaw on the floor, flabbergasted at your sudden admission. He shook it off quickly, walking back up to you and caressed your face once again.

“So...you do have an insane crush on me?” he smirked.

“I wouldn’t go far as to say ‘insane’....spirited, maybe,” you blushed, making him grin like a kid in a candy store.

“AND, really to be honest it’s only been a subconscious thing, I think. But this morning at the gas station, something just…”

“Clicked,” he finished your sentence.

“Ye-Yeah,” You whispered, now once again stunned.

“Yeah…” he smiled, rubbing your jaw with his thumb.

“So….what are we doing here, counselor?” You tried to keep your voice from wavering, but his hands on your face and the smell of his cologne was driving you nuts.

“We’re standing here, detective,” he smirked.

“Oh fuck off don’t be cute about this,” you hit his hands away at his snarkiness.

“But I’m so good at it,” he pulled on your hands playfully.

“Alright what are we going to do about….” you gestured between the two of you.

“Well, I told you what I want to do,” he smirked again, pulling your face close to kiss you, but stopped mere millimeters from your lips.

“BUT, I also don’t want to do something just because Olivia tells me to,” he pulled back quickly, amused at the annoyance on your face.

“So what, you wanna make out like teenagers? Wouldn’t that just be proving her point?” You scoffed, trying to hide the fact that you wanted to do so much more than that.

“I just...I don’t want us to...and then you--” he made hand gestures left and right.

“And then I? And then you!” you hit him softly.

“No, not me. You think you’re the only one with a subconscious?” He raised an eyebrow, indicating he had always felt the same about you.

“So...neither of us, wants either of us, to change our minds,” you pulled him in closer once again, your arms wrapped around each other’s necks.

“But both of us, assume that we will,” you continued, moving a hand to play with his collar sans tie, so that it was showing the tiniest bit of his chest.

“SO-- I propose this,” You patted the chest window with both hands. Rafael took this chance to grab them and keep them there, anxious to hear your proposal.

“We….have some fun,” you wagged your eyebrows suggestively.

“And since both of us already think that the other one is gonna bail, we’re not gonna expect tomorrow to be any different, right?”

“Right…” he held onto your hands, forcing you to balance back and forth on your toes.

“And, if we both still feel the same when we get home…” you clung tighter to the collar, pulling yourself closer to his face.

“Then we do this. For real,” you whispered, staring him straight into his gorgeous green eyes.

“...And what happens when one of us changes our mind when we get to the city?” He brushed hair away from your face.

“Well then, I’ll just transfer units so you can get over me,” You gave him a tongued smile.

“Oh, I think you’ll be transferring to get over me, carino,” he smirked.

“What does that mean, by the way? I hope it’s nothing bad, considering you’ve called me it all day,” you asked, and he laughed.

“No no no, not bad-- never,” He kissed your forehead.

“It means like, ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey’, it just sounds prettier in spanish,”

“It really does. To be honest you could call me trash in spanish and I’d still think it was sexy as hell,” you admitted, making him laugh louder.

“I would never call you basura, carino, EVER,” he assured you, going in for another kiss; this time, he didn’t stop.

You both began kissing each other furiously, the crescendo of your wants from the entire day came spilling out all at once like a broken dam. Without thinking you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist. Surprised, he momentarily stumbled back, but quickly adjusted your weight in his grasp, pulling you tighter into him. You could feel his growing member against your thigh, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing you were the reason for it. All of a sudden you felt yourself falling back onto the bed, Rafael continuing to kiss you.

“Oh yeah sure just let me get the jizz germs on me,” you giggled in between kisses. In response, he crawled on you and moved you up closer to the headboard, his entire body now on top of you.

“Alright there, my body is full of jizz now too, happy?” he panted.

“Yeah I know it is, I can feel it,” you smirked, grabbing his belt and tugging on his erection. He moaned, his eyes widening in shock and excitement.

This was it, no going back now….

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu #build me up buttercup

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