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ranhaitanisgf · 3 years

Note

Hello so glad to see you write for Shinichiro!! Could I have some headcanons of spending the day as Shinichiro’s s/o with Shinichiro, Mikey, and Emma? Maybe having a picnic or going to the mall together? Just some fluffy Sano family time!

spending a day with shinichiro sano (feat. emma & manjiro sano): headcanons

[𖤐] hii anon; thank you for requesting this!! it was so cute and fluffy to write i kinda melted a little bit when i was writing this aaaa, i hope you like it!! <333

❧ masterlist

✂︎ honestly, the day was supposed to be just a casual date with shinichiro; going to the mall and doing some window shopping and maybe buying a few things, then going to the food court to get some food before riding to the riverside to watch the sunset. nothing really out there, but just spending time with him was enough for you, so you didn’t really need any sort of fancy date.

✂︎ at least, that was the original plan. you weren’t sure how you had ended up taking emma and mikey along with the two of you, but frankly, you didn’t really mind. there’s probably a lot of other people who would have some...thoughts, if their boyfriend’s little siblings tagged along on their date, but emma and mikey were always such sweethearts, (to you at least) so you actually thought it was a nice change of pace.

✂︎ hm, well, now that you think about it, the both of them coming wasn’t really supposed to happen in the first place. it was pretty nice weather out, so you and shinichiro had decided to walk to the mall instead of taking his bike. the both of you had figured it would be a nice change of pace and that the fresh air would do both of you some good, but you two were so wrapped up in your conversation with each other that you didn’t even notice the steps following you two. it wasn’t until you were almost at the mall that you and shinichiro had realized emma and mikey had tagged along.

“what were you thinking of buying, (y/n)?”

“hm, i’m not really too sure yet, maybe some-”

“i can’t believe that didn’t see us the entire walk!! we’re just that stealthy, emma!”

“what the hell-”

✂︎ and just like that, your date was crashed by the two little kids who had followed you on your way to the mall. according to emma, the only reason she was here was because she was trying to stop mikey, but by the time she finally was able to pull him back, she didn’t know how to get back home, so she just decided to follow you. according to mikey, he had followed you two because...well, just because he wanted to.

✂︎ mikey’s response earned him a punch on the head from shinichiro, who started yelling about how he can’t just crash his date, ‘just because he wants to’.

✂︎ it was obvious from his body language that shinichiro was feeling pretty exasperated from all this, and you can’t really blame him. i mean, who would expect for their little brother to purposefully follow him while he goes on a date?

“sorry about this (y/n), i should’ve noticed they were following us sooner. if you don’t mind, i can run them back real quick while you go look at some shops, how’s that?”

“...hm, actually, if it doesn’t bother you, how about we just take them with us? i don’t really mind that they came along; i really like emma and mikey, and if we take them with us, then you don’t have to go all the way back. is that alright with you?”

“are you sure, (y/n)? mikey can be a little troublemaker sometimes-”

“hey, shut up!! am not!!”

“yes you are!!”

“i’m sure it’s fine, now both of you stop yelling at each other, people are staring!!”

✂︎ gonna be honest here, the two of you looked like a family when you walked into the mall. mikey was sitting on shinichiro’s shoulders while shinichiro kept a firm grip on his legs, and emma was holding your much bigger hand in her smaller one, looking around a bit curiously.

✂︎ as you all walk around, looking at the different shops, there’s going to be a lot of commentary about literally everything from mikey. he’s going to be commentating on everything he sees, whether it’s clothing or a food stand that he wants to go try, his commentary will just be endless.

“do girls really wear that sort of thing??”

“woah, that looks super cool!”

“can we get the dorayaki that’s over there, (y/n)-nii?!”

✂︎ you’ll probably start to notice emma’s longing glances at some of the things that she sees in the windows. she won’t really say anything about it, but you can tell that it’s something she wants, so you’ll go into a couple of the stores with her, asking what it is that she wants. she’ll definitely be surprised at first, but she’ll get really excited that you’re willing to get stuff for her and will show you the things that she thinks are pretty. she’ll probably start talking about how she wants to be able to wear all of the cute stuff she saw in some of the other windows someday, so you just ruffle her hair and tell her that when the time comes, you’ll definitely buy it for her.

✂︎ your actions don’t go unnoticed by shinichiro, so he’ll just be waiting for you outside the store with mikey, looking at you with a small smile on his face. he doesn’t know why, but whenever he sees you getting along with her and mikey, it just warms his heart and reminds him of how much he loves you and how much he wants to be with you for the rest of his life.

“stop staring at (y/n)-nii, it’s weird.”

“wha- i wasn’t-!”

“yes you were! i saw you!!”

“be quiet mikey, i’m trying to have my moment!”

✂︎ ah, well, he actually does know why his heart skips a beat whenever he sees you smiling and getting along with emma and mikey, but he’ll save that for later.

✂︎ when you and emma walk out of the store, the giddy smile on her face makes shinichiro smile down at her before turning his gaze to you, who was looking at her with a giant grin on your face as well.

“let’s go look at some more places?”

“definitely!!”

✂︎ emma is a lot more vocal from that point onward, pointing out all the different things in the shops that she thinks would look best on you. she actually has a pretty good fashion sense, so you ended up buying some of the stuff that she suggested.

✂︎ she’ll even have you try on all the clothing that she picked out for you so that you can show shinichiro, (she whispers to you it’s so that he’s struck with love when he sees you). her plan definitely worked though; when you came out of the dressing room in the clothes she had picked out for you, shinichiro was wordless for a few moments, so captivated by you that he doesn’t even know what it is he should say. he’ll probably stutter out some words after a few moments, the broken sentence resembling that of a compliment, but you’re not quite sure since it’s all pretty broken up.

“wow, uh, you look, uh...wow, you’re very...wow…”

“shinichiro-nii, can’t you think of anything else?! i thought you were supposed to be their boyfriend!! you’re making my plan fail!!”

✂︎ mikey will probably be more interested in going to the food court, and will be asking every five minutes when you guys can be finished with window shopping so that he can eat because he’s absolutely starving, (it’s a lie, he just wants dorayaki).

✂︎ you’ll probably tell shinichiro that he should probably get some new clothing as well, with emma chiming in that his taste in clothes is kinda boring and that he should spice up his wardrobe, (he feels very wounded by this and puts a hand to his heart as if he’s been fatally shot). with that, the four of you will start to look for new clothes for shinichiro. it’s quite the serious mission, so the three of you will be closely examining him whenever he steps outside of the dressing rooms. it’s also like you three are judges at a fashion show, and if you could, you would all be holding up numbers that were rating his outfits, (the employees are fairly amused by all of this).

✂︎ after you all finally find some new clothes for shinichiro, you’ll be making your final stop at the food court, the place mikey has been pestering you about going to for the entire time you were there. he immediately dragged you all over to the dorayaki place, eagerly asking if he could get one. really though, how could you say no to those eyes?

✂︎ after getting everyone something to eat, you’ll all be sitting down, emma and mikey chomping down and their food, and you and shinichiro resting your feet after all the walking you had just done.

“remind me to never bring you to the mall on a date again.”

“what, you didn’t have fun?”

“no! no, that’s not it, i just...my wallet feels lighter than before…”

“you’re so dramatic sometimes, i swear.”

“but you love me.”

“...yes.”

✂︎ by the time you all are done with your food and are exiting the mall, it’s dark out, and emma and mikey are barely able to keep their eyes open, meaning that for the walk home, you were carrying emma on your back and shinichiro was carrying mikey. the walk back was rather peaceful, but what you enjoyed the most was the whispered conversation you were keeping up with your boyfriend, who was complaining about how mikey was drooling on his neck and he could feel it dripping down to his shoulder.

✂︎ after putting both the kids in their respective bedrooms and tucking them in, the two of you just crash on shinichiro’s bed, tired from all the events that had happened that day. you really had to admit though, it was times like these that you would always remember the most. the way he looked like when he was beside you, his eyes already closed as he rested his head on your arm. god, he looked so pretty…

“hmm, what do you think you’re doing?”

“just fixing the hair of my beautiful boyfriend, that’s all.”

“i see...carry on then.”

✂︎ neither of you bothered to change out of your clothes into pajamas, just deciding to leave them on and stay in each other’s embrace. in your opinion, there was truly no better way to end a day than to have shinichiro on your arms, his head fixed into the crook of your shoulder as he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw.

“love you so much (y/n)...”

“mhm, i love you too.”

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christowhore · 3 years

Text

Redeeming Myself

pairing: chris evans x professor!fem!reader

summary: after breaking your heart and losing your trust, chris makes it his mission to prove to you how much you mean to him.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is 29, chris is 40), angst, reminiscing on past actions, fluff, talks with therapist, chris makes up for bad behavior, slight alcohol consumption, smut, happy endings, rpf !!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!!

notes: the final installment of Pining for Professor. it was only supposed to be a one shot, but i got inspired and expanded it. it took a while cause writers block, but it’s here. for anyone who has read the series, thank you and hope you enjoy ! 💓🥰

i do not allow the reposting, rewriting or translating of my fics. these are works of my own and i do not give permission for any of the acts stated above.

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SERIES MASTERLIST • MAIN MASTERLIST

For a month and a half following that afternoon, Chris began to go above and beyond to mend his mistakes in an effort to regain your trust.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been forgiven for the hurtful words he hurled at you, the voice he raised, and his cold demeanor through it all. But you forgave him nonetheless, which he was eternally grateful for.

Chris suspected that his venom-laced words still took a toll on your overall being. He sensed it in the way your usual humming was kept to a minimum, as did your soft caresses to his body. The fun facts that you would randomly blurt out had basically become nonexistent.

You hadn’t tried initiating sex with Chris due to still being affected by his actions, which was understandable to the brunette.

He could tell you were being cautious around him, which broke his heart more than he could’ve imagined.

The two of you never really talked in depth about what happened, deciding to push it under the rug and move past it. But ignoring the elephant in the room could only last for so long.

That morning was no different. He had spent the night at your place and decided to wake up and make you breakfast in an effort to mend the faltering relationship.

You woke up to an empty bed, something that you were used to since Chris had always been an early riser. Getting your morning routine out the way, you made your descent downstairs with the smell of pesto guiding you down the steps.

Walking into the kitchen, you saw the sight of your topless boyfriend, donning only a pair of boxers and an apron. You watched as he studiously focused on the skillet in front of him. His intense focus and the sounds of eggs frying in the pan made him oblivious to your arrival.

It wasn’t until you made your way towards the fridge next to him, that he registered your presence. “Morning princess, you sleep well.”

“Yeah, I slept fine,” your voice still a bit gravely from your slumber. You poured yourself a glass of orange juice, ignoring the intense gaze from Chris in your peripheral vision.

He was so used to having you touch him in the mornings. Not so much in a sexual way, but more intimately. The way your lips would ghost against his shoulder blade, your palms would hold his sides and pull him against you so that way you could bask in his warmth. Your arms would wrap around his front until your fingers absentmindedly toyed with his lower abdomen, playing with the wisps of hair on his happy trail.

He missed when you would move your lips until they met the space behind his ears, giving light open mouth kisses. The sound of you whispering ‘Morning daddy’ would leave him awestruck. Even though the words were a regular occurrence for him to hear, it was the way you would say it in your morning voice that made it ten times more special.

Though those actions might seem minuscule to others, they meant the world to him and it was killing him that he hadn’t been able to experience such tender moments with you in a while.

“I’m making breakfast- pesto eggs and some bacon for you. It’ll be done in a minute.”

You nodded along before heading to the table, phone in hand while catching up on your morning news.

It didn’t take long before a steaming plate was placed in front of you, the scent of garlic and basil already making you salivate.

Chris sat besides you and watched as you dug a fork into your meal, a smile reaching his face as he heard your content moans.

The two of you ate in silence, only the sound of soft chewing and utensils hitting your respective plates could be heard.

Every so often, you would feel Chris peek at you, hoping for you to start up a conversation with him like you always did. It’s not like you didn’t want to, it was just that you were still hurting due to his words. You know from a psychological standpoint that there was something going on inside of him that caused him to lash out, which you understood. But it didn’t aid in diminishing your apprehensiveness towards opening up to him, afraid that another fight would break out and hurtful words would again be hurled.

He could sense the internal struggle battling within you so he spoke up, breaking you out from your subconscious.

“I know I’ve been saying this repeatedly over the past few weeks, but I want you to know how sorry I am,” Chris sympathetically stated, “You didn’t deserve what I put you through, the things I said. I just hope that we're able to someday go back to how we were.”

You sat there staring at the man in front of you. Was there a way that the two of you can revert to what once was? Could you actually forgive him?

Not knowing how to properly respond, you simply nodded. A tight lipped smile was evidence that Chris had a lot of making up to do.

Finishing up breakfast, you excused yourself to your office to go and work on your dissertation, leaving the brunette alone with his thoughts.

He knew that he needed to do something big to make up for his actions. He also knew that he needed to figure out why he lashed out on you.

Taking out his phone, he clicked on a saved contact and listened to the dial tone ring in his ear.

“Morning, I’d like to make an appointment as soon as possible. It’s an emergency.”

Chris sat on the plush maroon couch, his eyes getting reacquainted with the familiar setting. The office had a few knick knacks littered around the space. A potted plant here and there. Motivational, yet cheesy posters on the wall. An assortment of magazines on the coffee table.

He hadn’t been here in a while, his usual talks were about his anxiety and dealing with fame. But for this appointment it was about you- specifically how he treated you.

The new topic was foreign to him, resulting in the brunette not knowing how to address it. So he silently sat there as his therapist, Dr. Reynolds, held her pen in her hand and studied his behavior.

“So,” she cautiously started, “What brings you in today?”

Chris sat there twiddling his fingers at her question. There could’ve been a few reasons that brought him in, but the main one was why he said the things he hurled at you.

He proceeded to spend the next 10 minutes recapping the events that had transpired, making sure to not spare any detail. After his spiel, Dr. Reynolds skimmed through her notes that she jotted down during his explanation.

Looking up from her notebook, she locked eyes with the brunette. “Do you think that some of your actions correlate with self-sabotaging behaviors? How, when you opened yourself up to her so suddenly it made you feel scared? Scared that you might need to face those fears that are plaguing you.”

Chris sat there incredulously, “Well- I mean no. I don’t think so.”

The pair talked for over an hour, going over the usual allotted time as they broke down why Chris had acted a certain way.

He realized the anger he felt was a coping mechanism to avoid feeling what he truly felt: fear. Mainly his fear of commitment. Part of him was scared that any future marriage would end up like his parents, in divorce. He feared that you would stop loving him. He feared that he would stop loving you.

And that fear was ultimately pushing you away from him. Which uncovered the biggest fear of all, losing you.

Dr. Reynolds eventually received a knock on her door, indicating a waiting patient, causing their therapy session to be cut and saved for another day.

“Thanks doc, I think I know what I need to do now.”

After some much needed self-reflection made in the meeting with his therapist, Chris knew what he had to do. Leaving the office, he pulled out his phone and dialed his publicist, Megyn.

A few rings later, he went into detail to the blonde about his plan. Not caring about what the press might say, or how his fans might react, he needed to get it done.

She wasn’t too keen on dealing with the impending press that would come from it, but she was happy that he was able to find someone that he truly loved.

He went back to your place that evening with a refreshed mind. The rest of the day went by as usual, you both did your own respective things, the tension still heavy in the air.

As you both started on your own night routine, his main focus was on you. He didn’t even know he stopped brushing and was staring until you snapped your fingers in front of his eyes.

“Earth to Chris, everything alright?” your tone was light and airy, hinted with a bit of joy.

Chris looked at the slight smile on your face and was reminded all over again as to why he fell for you. That smile was something that was so ingrained in his mind that not even old age could make him forget it. It warmed his entire being whenever he was sad and it made him realize he could never take it off your face for the rest of his days.

“Yeah princess,” he whispered, still lost in you, “I’m alright.”

You nodded along to him, though your eyes squinted a bit due to being curious of his change in demeanor. Before he was overly cautious around you, now it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Before you could set your toothbrush down and set out for bed, he stopped you with a hand on your elbow, pulling you into him. Not caring that there were still dribbles of toothpaste in his mouth, he leant down and attached his lips to yours.

The kiss was soft, he was desperate to feel your softness against him though wasn’t trying to rush the act in any way. Moving his hand up, he held onto your cheek in an effort to pull you even closer than you already are.

The smell of your lavender night cream instantly calmed him, making him feel safe in your embrace and absentmindedly smiling into the kiss.

Chris finally pulled away, only slightly, to look down on you with a dopey grin. “God I’m in love with you.”

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile reached your face to match the man across from you.

“I love you too love bug,” you sighed against his lips, “You probably should’ve rinsed your mouth though, I can taste your toothpaste.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, “Sorry, just got caught up in the moment.”

Chris kept you secured in his arms as he continued to stare down at you. There was something different about him, specifically the way his gaze was directed at you. Though you were not complaining.

“How about we bring back date night? I can cook and we can finally sit and talk to one another like we used to.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his pleas. It had been a while since you two sat down and basked in each other’s presence. The thought had you hopeful that things could go back to normal.

“I would love that,” you began, “How about Friday? I have a test for a few of my classes this week so we can do it once I’m all free.”

Chris smiled down at you with eyes evident of his admiration for you, “Friday is perfect.”

The rest of the week went on rather differently than previous ones. Your touches came back to his body, fingertips grazing alongside him whenever he was close. Chris would regularly kiss your cheek or top of your shoulder anytime he had the chance.

You did take notice of him on his phone a lot, part of it filled you with uneasiness but the rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t something to ponder too much over, so you let it go.

Chris had been spending the entire week making sure that his plan was rolling smoothly. He had the entire date night planned to a T. He informed his family about it, who were ecstatic for him, making his own mother tear up due to how happy she was. He made sure to have everything ready at the house so that everything would be successful.

The day of the planned affair, you were stuck in your home office grading the last set of tests before being able to officially clock out for the evening. Inputting the grades into Blackboard, you were brought out of focus due to the sounds of buzzing from your phone. Picking up the device, you unlocked it and saw the incoming text from your boyfriend.

Chris: Baby, I know you’re still probably finishing up, but dinner will be ready at my place at around 7. I put something on your bed for you to wear. See you soon!

The endearing message made you smile and also feel a bit elated. You missed the intimate moments shared between you and Chris. The loving looks sent your way, the delicious food and engaging conversations. But most importantly, you missed the sex. Before, the two of you were like jackrabbits, the longest you both went without getting hot and heavy was about 2 days. Now going on over two months, you were becoming insatiable.

Quickly inputting the final test scores in your online grade book, you got ready for your night in with Chris. Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room to be hit with a bit of nostalgia. Laying on the bed was the same black dress that you wore on your first date with him.

With the amount of dresses you had in your wardrobe, it was a shock that he was able to find the specific one you wore that night. The sentiment warmed your heart and filled you with hope.

Rushing to get ready, you went and got dressed, making sure that you appeared your best before heading out.

It was only a quick drive to his home, before you were sat in his driveway.

Your mind was plagued with worry. You feared that if this night didn’t go well, then it would ultimately mean the end of your relationship with the man. Taking in a deep breath, you calmed your nerves before exiting the vehicle and made the trek towards his front door.

Using the house key you still had attached to your own ring set, you unlocked the door and walked in though you didn’t get far when the sight before you made you stop and gasp.

Starting from the front door laid a trail of rose petals leading you through the house. The thoughtful effort made tears begin to form in your eyes and your breath unsteady.

Following the trail, the same smells of vegetables sautéing brought you back to that time over a year ago.

Once you made it inside the kitchen, you saw Chris with an apron adorning his massive frame on top of his suit. Once he took notice of your arrival he turned around and smiled at you. “There you are sweetheart. I was waiting for you to show.”

He turned down the fire before gliding towards you, about to reach down and kiss you when you beat him to it.

Grabbing a hold of either side of his face, you slammed your lips to his; the action surprising you both. You delivered him repeated pecks which caused the brunette to laugh between every one of your kisses.

Getting enough of your intimate fill, you pulled away from him and looked up. “What’s the special occasion? I mean I know it’s date night, but still.”

Chris brought his hands down to rest on the dip of your back before pulling you in closer to him. The action caused your neck to crane up to look directly into his eyes.

“I wanted to make things right with my best girl.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the slight Captain America reference before delivering another kiss, “Thank you, I love it.”

The meal went according to plan, the two of you enjoying the same shrimp scampi dish he made on your first date together.

You were sipping on your glass of wine when you heard Chris speak up.

“Though I’ve said it more times than either of us can count, I need you to know how regretful I am of how I acted.”

You sighed at his words, “Chris, I said it’s-”

“No, it’s not okay (Y/N),” he interrupted you, “It wasn’t okay for me to lash out at you. It wasn’t okay for me to hurt your feelings.”

“Tonight, I tried to recreate our first date together to show you just how much you mean to me.”

Chris had rehearsed what he was planning on saying for the past few days, but here now in this moment he couldn’t remember a single prepared line. So he just decided to follow his heart.

“(Y/N). The day I met you, it was one of the greatest days of my life. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but fate brought us together- well I guess I should say Ma did with her insisting.”

His words caused you to chuckle, “I can see where you got your determination. She really didn’t quit until she finally got us in the same room.”

The memory of Lisa bringing you two together that afternoon warmed both of your hearts.

“That day we met was the day I knew that there was no one else in the world that would matter to me as much as you would. Every single day that I get the pleasure of seeing that look on your face will forever make me the luckiest man on the Earth. So when I hurled those words at you and took that smile away, it made me feel horrendous.”

You didn’t even realize you had started crying until you felt the warmth of your tears sliding down your cheeks.

Chris reached across the table and curled his fingers around your hand, slightly stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend that I could be. I realized that my own fears of commitment caused me to take out my frustrations out on you, and absentmindedly pushed you away. But I realized that pushing you away was the last thing I ever wanted to happen.”

He felt his heart rate race and his organ beat heavily in his chest, his anxiety slowly rising.

“You are the greatest thing to happen to me. You make the worst days seem minuscule whenever you’re around. I love the way you’re able to always help push me through any obstacle I face, no matter how big or small it may be. The way you easily get along with my crazy family. And I love how you make me feel like I am floating on cloud nine anytime I kiss you.”

Chris felt his hands begin to sweat. One of his hands clasped onto yours, while the other held onto the small box in his left pocket of his slacks.

“A few days ago I had a session with my therapist about you. And during it I realized how much I care about you, and how losing you, even though it was brief, was the worst thing I had ever experienced.”

Slowly standing up on shaky legs, he brought you up with him.

“I had to secretly figure out the right size while you were sleeping the other night,” he began to joke, “You don’t know how hard it was to get the measurement done considering how light of a sleeper you are.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest. You suspected that something was different about his behavior and this evening, and your suspicions were slowly coming to light.

“I can’t ever experience the feeling of not having you by my side again. Waking up to a cold bed and not seeing the way your nose would sometimes crunch up while you're deep in a dream is something I never want to go through again.”

Chris reached into his pocket of his pants and pulled out a cherry red box. The sight of the gold inscription labeling 'Cartier' made your breath catch in your throat and tears fall freely down your face.

The height difference was changed when he steadily dropped down on his left knee, his tear filled blue eyes looking up at you.

“(Y/N), you make me the happiest man in the world. And I know it’s a stereotypical line for me to say, but it’s true. I love how you’re able to bring the best out of me and everyone around you. I love how you love everyone unconditionally. God, I love how fucking breathtaking you are. I am in love with everything about you.”

Letting go of your hand, he held the box in his grasp before cracking it open. The action caused your hands to cover your mouth and you to bend at the knees. With the aid of the lights around the room, it unveiled to you a marquise cut diamond. One either side were two stones. On the left was a pearl, indicating his June birthstone. The other side showed your gemstone, the rocks pairing perfectly with one another.

“So,” Chris began with a shaky breath, “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you do me the honor and make me the luckiest person in the world. Will you marry me?”

Your body shook with sobs as you nodded along to his question.

“Wait, are you saying yes?” Chris asked, excitement evident in his tone. “I don’t know if that’s you nodding yes or no.”

Removing your hands from your face you grasped on to your now fiancé’s, “Yes, I would love to marry you.”

Chris didn’t even get the chance to put the ring on you before raising up and slamming his lips against yours. Both of you tasting the salty tears that expelled from the other.

It was his turn to lay a continuous stream of kisses to your lips. Soft chants of ‘thank you’ leaving his mouth between every one.

Pulling away, he retrieved the ring from its box as you held up your left hand. You watched as he slid the band down your finger until it situated perfectly against the base. A content sigh left the both of you.

Chris brought your hand up and kissed the back of it and then your ring finger before locking eyes with you.

You two stayed like that for a while, your gaze flicking back and forth between each other’s lips until finally you two connected them.

This time, the embrace was intimate, more passion filled. Your hands folded against the nape of his neck, the coolness of the gold band making him smile with contentment.

With his hands holding onto your hips, he guided you back until you were met with resistance from the wall behind you; the sudden force causing you to lightly grunt into his mouth.

Lowering his hands until his palms rested on the back of your thighs, he tapped on your skin, an unspoken request for you to jump. While securing your hold on his neck, you jumped up and rested in his palms. With you in his hands, Chris began to walk the two of you towards his bedroom. Since Dodger was staying at his mom's house, he didn’t bother closing the door, not worrying about any sudden intrusion.

Your mouth was still attached to Chris when he laid you down, you head against the soft pillow on the plush bed. His frame towering over you as he shook off the suit jacket from his body, kicked off his shoes and toed his socks away.

“I love you so much (Y/N),” he swooned through kisses.

“I love you too Chris.”

Untying the front of your wrap dress, the silk material fell to the sides of your body, revealing your figure which was only covered by a thin, lace pair of underwear. The sight of your half naked self made him growl down at you in desire.

Removing his lips from yours, he descended down your body, leaving kisses in his wake.

“You’re all mine.”

His lips kissed around your taut nipple, his tongue poking out to flick at your pert bud.

“Forever and always.”

You felt him leaving traces of wetness from open-mouth kisses on your abdomen.

“The love of my life.”

His fingers dug into the sides of your thong before dragging it down your legs.

“My beautiful fiancé.”

You breathing hitched as you felt his warm breath fan across your exposed cunt. The hot air was a stark contrast to the cool slick of your dripping wetness.

“The future Mrs. Evans.”

And with that, Chris flattened out his tongue before running a long stripe up your pussy, lapping up your wetness until he curled it around your clit. “Oh fuck, Chris.”

How exhausting the sexual hiatus that you experienced with the brunette was evident due to how you were squirming on the bed. Your hands spread throughout the sheets, gripping and tugging in an effort to gain some form of steadiness. Over two months without having him on you had you mewling into the air. “Please baby, don’t stop.”

With his tongue occupied, Chris continued to devour you. His tongue alternated between long drags and quick flicks between your folds. You felt the tip of his tongue prod at your opening in a desperate attempt to taste more of you- to feel more of you.

Removing his mouth, he heard you begin to groan in disappointment before it turned into a moan when he spat on your cunt then suctioned his lips around your clit. With one hand holding your stomach down, he used the other to enter your soaking hole with his index and middle fingers.

Chris was gentle with his digits inside of you, dragging his pads alongside your ways, stroking your contracting walls and feeling every ridge. Once he was knuckle deep, he scissored your cunt, basking in the sounds of your squelching around his fingers paired with your content moans of relief.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, using the limb to draw slow, tortuous circles on your mound as he watched you fall into the deep recesses of ecstasy.

He observed your neck stretch back, exposing a slightly bulging vein running up the expanse. The way your lips quivered as your moans flew freely out. Your legs began to shake when he hit the spot he was all too familiar with deep in your core.

“Look at me,” Chris demanded, his Boston accent evident in his request, “Need’a watch my pretty girl cum all over my fingers.”

The eye contact with the brunette was intense, more fierce than ever experienced before, but you reveled in every second of it. You noticed how his pupils had become blown out, only showing a small ring of blue surrounding the black.

You tried to keep the gaze locked until you felt your orgasm come full force through your body like a tidal wave. “Christopher!”

Upon hearing your screech of desire and feeling your essence begin to soak his digits, he replaced his thumb back with his mouth, longing to taste every single drop of your sweetness. His fingers continued to pump inside of you, prolonging your release and causing more of your juices to flow into and around his mouth.

Chris finally removed his fingers to drink more of you until you attempted to feebly push his head away, the orgasm causing you to lose most of your strength.

“Sorry princess, you know Daddy just can't get enough of you,” Chris moaned as he licked your essence off his lips.

He rose up your lower half and hovered over you staring down at your exhausted self. You mustered the power to raise your arms and grasp his face in your hands before bringing him down to connect lips once more.

The kisses were lecherous, the both of you yearning to taste every single part of the other. Your tongue was firm against his as he massaged yours while you swallowed each other's moans.

Your body felt on fire with the way his large hands were massaging and caressing every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers digging into your softness and pulling you flush against his frame.

Taking your hands away from his face, you began to unbutton his dress shirt, peeling away the material until it unveiled his tattooed chest. Your fingers tracing the large design on his chest before making its way down to his belt, unbuckling it in the process.

Dragging the leather through the loops and away from his body, you unzipped his trousers before reaching in to palm his obvious erection. The action made the man above you keen against your tongue. “I wanna taste you Chris.”

With your thighs around his hips, you nudged him until your positions were switched. His head against the same pillow, he watched as you tugged down the material on his lower half, leaving the two of you completely bare for one another.

You laid down on your stomach between his legs before grabbing hold onto the base of his cock, drawing a hiss from Chris.

His head craned back at the feel of your wet mouth tonguing his length, the wet muscle licking a stripe from the base to his tip. “Ohh- that's it baby.”

You collected your spit before it dripped from your mouth and on his head, the liquid cascading down the massive length. Using it for your advantage, you began to stroke him while attaching your lips around his tip. Your tongue flicked his slit while drinking up his precum.

“God, I love you so much (Y/N).”

Removing one of your hands, you began to swallow his length, stroking off what you couldn’t take down. His moans and groans only stir you on as you bask in the feel of him throbbing in your mouth. With your free hand, you began to palm at his balls; the action making him grip the sheets as well as tenderly holding the side of your head.

His mouth was parted, showing only his tongue, as he panted out. “That’s it baby, such a good girl for me.”

Chris felt his peak slowly approaching, the buildup steadily growing with every swipe of your tongue, suction from your lips and tug at his balls. Though he would’ve loved to release down your throat and watch your mouth milk his balls, he wanted- needed to feel your warmth surrounding him as he coated your walls.

He went to unlatch you from his cock and raise you towards him. “I need to feel you,” he breathed out, “I miss the feel of you around me (Y/N).”

You crawled up his body til you were straddling his hips. Reaching down, you pumped his length a few times before positioning it for entry. The second you began the descent and his head met the resistance from your cunt, you both groaned out.

Chris couldn’t wait any longer so he brought his hands to your hips and fully sank you down on him, sheathing his entire cock inside of you. The action made you lurch forward with your hands planting themselves on his chest in search of stability.

“Oh that’s it princess,” professed Chris, “Missed this tight fucking cunt choking my cock. Missed you so goddamn much.”

With the help of his hands on your hips, you began to slowly work yourself on his dick. Every rise and fall of your hips made you experience the delectable feel of his veined shaft drag against your channel.

“Oh Christopher,” you cooed as you felt him throb inside of you.

“That’s it princess, I’m right here.”

You brought your hands from off of him and covered his large ones. Removing them from your body, you intertwined digits. The new position of your hands allowed the newly added engagement ring to gleam under the light.

If he had a camera, he would’ve wanted to capture the beauty of you in that moment. Every buck of your hips caused your breasts to bounce, the action enticing him even more than already. The sweat that began to form on your body caused your body to shine from the bedroom lights, making your body appear as if it were glowing.

He wanted to frame the glorious sight of you, but he decided to settle with the fact of knowing he would be able to recreate this exact moment for the rest of his life. Recreate with you as husband and wife.

He rose up from the mattress and maneuvered your legs to wrap around his waist before sitting on his haunches. The new position of your naked chest pressed up against his own while he fucked you on his cock was a sort of intimacy that couldn’t be explained.

The closeness of your faces allowed you to feel each other’s breaths warm your features. You could see pupils being blown, feel the sweat dripping off one another, and hear every single sound that escaped the other's mouth.

Attaching his lips to yours, Chris moaned into your mouth. “That’s it baby, cream all around my cock. Milk me til I fill you up with my cum.”

The heels of your feet dug into his lower back and your fingertips gripped onto his neck, leaving scratches in its wake.

You knew for certain that you would have bruises on your waist with the way he had latched onto you, raising you up and down his length.

With every thrust, your sweaty skin slapped together as his balls spanked up against your ass.

“Ahh baby, I- fuck Chris I’m almost there.”

“I know (Y/N), I’m right behind you.”

A few more harsh thrusts as his tip slammed against your g-spot and you were suddenly slammed into the blissful abyss of your orgasm. The tightness of your contracting walls caused Chris to achieve his own release. The shouting sounds of you two reaching your respective peaks echoed throughout the room.

Warmth flooded your body and your cunt as you felt Chris’s cock shoot ribbons of his seed deep into you. He continued to drag you along his length, hoping to prolong the glorious feeling of your pussy throbbing around him.

After the sensation of your peak began to wane, he fell back against the mattress, bringing you down with him.

The two of you laid there in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth radiating off the other.

Chris strokes your back, long traces of his thumb running along your spine as you both regain your breath.

“I’m in love with you (Y/N). So goddamn much.”

Still a little too spent, you nodded while your hands toyed around with his chest.

While you two sat there, a realization popped into the brunette's head, making him begin to stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

You watched his ass jiggle with every step out of the room, the sight making you chuckle. When he returned, he held his phone in his hand.

“Seriously Christopher, you wanna make a sex tape right now?”

A boisterous laughter left him at your assumption, “No sweetheart, not that.”

Chris sat back next to you on the bed as he scrolled through his phone gallery. After a few flicks on his thumb, he finally found the photo that you two took on your first date. You were as beautiful as ever, smiling at the camera as he looked in awe at you.

You watched as he loaded up Instagram and clicked on the plus sign to create a new post. “Chris, what are you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Choosing the desired photo, he went to begin typing out his caption that would unveil you to the world.

chrisevans: A little over a year ago this photo was taken on our first date. I knew from that moment that I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life, that’s why I eagerly asked you to be mine. (Y/N) you make me the happiest man that I could be. I know this past year and a half has been a tough one, especially with everyone in the world claiming that they were dating me while I kept you in the shadows, but enough is enough. There’s no one else that I would rather be with. There’s no one in this entire world that holds a candle to you. To your beauty, your kindness, your everything. You are the love of my life. As of tonight, my fiancé. And soon to be my wife. I love you more than words can describe princess. (Y/@/N)

Chris finished typing out his message before looking down at you, silently asking for approval. He watched as your index finger raised up and clicked on the share button, indicating the end of your secrecy.

A dopey smile made his face before he looked at you, phone in hand, “Now, about that sex tape.”

You laughed at his joke as he made his way to kiss you once more. The embrace was full of contentment due to knowing that things were back to normal with a growing relationship full of unwavering love, reinstated trust, and pure happiness.

A/N: and that's a wrap folks. thank you to everyone who read this series.

also i would like to say that this is in no way an indication of chris evans personality or character. this is just fiction.

if you enjoyed this, please make sure to reblog and comment. feedback is much appreciated !

* divider credits : @firefly-graphics *

#chris evans #chris evans series #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans angst #chris evans fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #pining for professor

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misscaptainamericana · 3 years

Text

begin again - andy barber x reader

word count: 1861

content warning: professor/student relationship ish??, age gap, talks of sex/ smut not written out

author's note: rich student in law school, events take place after the finale of defending jacob, k thanks :)

Andy Barber had had a hard few years. These years ended with him divorcing Laurie and burying his son, it was time for him to start over. He moved to the complete opposite end of the country. Oregon state to become a law professor and that’s when he met you. You were in his first class and there was an exercise where groups had to take terms questioning a murder suspect. You were feisty and quick-witted, he loved that. You took two of his classes for your undergrad degree requirements before applying for the position to be his TA throughout your graduate years. You had thought about being his TA immediately after you were done taking his classes. During the application you were so worried that he wouldn’t remember you or even worse he would have a bad memory of you. Towards the end of the interview he put down the notepad he was holding and told you, “I was delighted when I saw your name in the list of applicants. You were an absolute pleasure to have in class.”

You couldn’t help but sit up straighter with a smile, “Wait, really?”

“Really, one of the best students I ever had and you’re going to make an incredible lawyer someday.”

“Well, thank you Mr. Barber, truly!”

“Call me Andy.”

“Okay…Thank you, Andy.”

“Want to start tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds great! What time do you normally get to campus?”

“Around eight in the morning but as long as you get here before ten I won’t fuss about it.”

The first month was tame. Lingering glances or touches that last a second too long or obscene comments either of you let slip, hinting at the other to do something. By the end of the fifth week, Andy could barely concentrate on anything. You never noticed it while taking his class but he always had to fidget a pen. Whether it be clicking, taping, or intense scribbling - he needed to use his hands. Staring at him all you wanted was to feel those hands over every inch of your body. A few minutes had gone by before you decided to clear your throat and ask, “Something on your mind?”

“No, I just- Trying to figure out a better way to quiz them so it actually sticks. I hate paper tests, they don’t prove you retained any information.”

“Well, I can try to think up some things and email you a list.”

“Okay, okay, yeah…That’s a great idea.”

You smiled and stood up before beginning to grab your belongings from around the room while Andy tapped his pen on the desk. With a sigh he spoke up again, “Actually, Y/N, Tomorrow since there’s no classes and we’re just grading do you want to grab coffee first?”

The question took you off guard a little, “Oh, sure. Where at?”

He shrugged with a smile, “I was hoping you would know a place.”

You thought it over before responding with a minute nod, “Actually I do know a place. It’s called Crema.”

“Okay, seven thirty?

“Sure thing…See you tomorrow.

“See you tomorrow!”

The next morning you were a bundle of nerves, you had woken up at five just to make sure you had enough time to get fully ready. You could’ve showed up in the basic attire and makeup you did every day but this felt special. This felt different.

You changed three times that morning and were about to change a fourth when you realized you needed to make it over to the cafe. The Wednesday morning air was cold as you made your way into the building. You were expecting to pick a table off to the side and scroll through twitter waiting for Andy, but he was there. He placed down his coffee cup and stood up from the table in the back with a small wave. Your heart began to race as you walked over to the table, “Good morning!”

“Good morning! You look incredible.” He told you with a warm smile as he pulled your chair out.

“Thank you, I like this dark blue color on you.”

He smiled looking over his button down shirt, “Yeah?”

You nodded, not being able to help your smile as he started to blush.

Andy cleared his throat before standing up straight, “Is there anything I can order for you?”

“Uhm, sure! I’ll take a honey vanilla latte and a cinnamon roll.”

“Coming right up.” He lightly patted your back before making his way over to the counter. It took a few minutes but he returned with your order and a breakfast sandwich for himself. The nerves were there for both of you for the first few minutes but when Andy changed the conversation to personal stories. Something to do with your honey latte and the first time he was ever stung by a bee. This led into your story of your first time riding a bike at the park and you fell into the pond. Andy threw his head back laughing and you accidentally let out a small snort.

The coffee date was something so sweet and personal that it really opened up your relationship at the college. Most days you would bring Andy coffee and pastry from the cafe and he would go out and get your favorite foods for lunch. With the holidays coming up and the classes and even staff starting to dwindle, there wasn’t much work to do besides prep for the influx of final papers. You and your parents hadn’t spent a holiday together since you were eighteen and you knew Andy had nowhere to go. You had finally felt comfortable enough so you decided it would be a nice time to invite him over to dinner.

“Mr. Barber?”

He looked up from the paper in his hand with a smile and took the pen out of his mouth, “Andy.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Andy, would you like to come over on Friday? I know we have a long weekend coming up and I’d love to make dinner for you.”

“I’d love that…What time?”

“Six?” You asked as you quickly scribbled down your address on a sticky note.

“I’ll be there, should I bring anything?”

“Just your appetite.” You said in response, holding out the note to him.

He gently took the note from your hands and placed it in his pocket, “You got it.”

Friday night came around and when he pulled up to the address in his GPS he was surprised to see you lived in a full townhouse. When he walked in he complimented your place before taking off his jacket and you thanked him with a small smile as you shut the door.

“With a place like this I imagine you have people over for college parties all the time.”

You shrugged and your smile slightly fell, “Having daddy’s money and simply going to college doesn’t get you very many friends.”

“That’s a shame, they’re missing out.” He told you with a smile, placing a hand on your back as he followed you to the kitchen. He helped you carry the food out to your small dining room table before you both sat down to eat. The dinner was nice, it felt nice to talk to someone about something other than work. It was nice hearing stories from his past even though some had pained him to talk about. He more than enjoyed hearing the stories that made you into the person you were today. After dinner and doing the dishes together, you both resigned to your living room to drink and continue the discussion. He made his way through the living room, looking things over and pointing out the James Taylor record collection, before sitting in the emerald green chair by the window.

His eyes studied you as his tongue danced around your teeth causing you to laugh before asking, “Why are you analyzing me?”

“You’re a lot more shy than you are in my office, why is that?”

“I don’t know…Trying to think something over before I do it.”

“Well that’s not like you.” He said with a chuckle causing you to gasp.

“That’s not fair!”

He quickly pulled the bottle away from his lips, nodding quickly, “It’s very fair!” He called out with his accent lingering on the word ‘fair’.

His eyes narrowed as they studied you, “You’ve always been so quick on your feet, connecting dots the fastest. So what is it? What are you stuck on?”

“I can’t talk about it.” You said before biting your lip.

“Can’t talk about it in general or can’t talk about it to me?”

The room fell silent for a few minutes before he down the last of his beer and looked back at you. “Well, I guess it’s time that I head out.”

“Andy wait-” You sighed as you quickly rose to your feet wanting to stop him from leaving.

He relaxed back into the chair with a raised eyebrow, “Yes?”

You slowly walked over to him wringing your hands together, “Andy.”

He looked up at you with a small smile, “Yes, Y/N.”

“Did you come over to my house because I’m a great assistant or is there something more here?”

“You’re a smart girl, sit down and tell me what you think is going on here.”

You took a deep breath before sitting down on his lap and rubbing his chest lightly, “I can tell you what I’m hoping is going on here…I’m hoping that this amazing man Andy came over to my house for dinner and he liked dinner enough to stay the night with me.”

“I didn't tell you to tell me what you were hoping for.” His voice was so low the vibrations of it shook your soul.

You swallowed hard before looking in his eyes, “I think me and you have been playing cat and mouse long enough. I think you should take me up to my room and make me scream your name until I lose my voice because I’ve earned it.”

“I think that can be arranged.” He said softly as he reached up to grab your chin and pull you in to kiss him.

He was so nervous to have sex with you. You were so much younger than him and he wasn’t sure how much experience you had. However he was going to make sure all of this waiting was worth every second. By the end of the night you were a whimpering trembling mess, both of you more than satisfied. As he laid down next to you and you quickly cuddled up against him, he kissed your forehead and began to softly rub your back. “Do you want me to draw you up a bath or-”

“No, no…Just hold me.”

“Mmkay, honey. Whatever you want.”

When he woke up the next morning you were still resting on his chest and the sun was out. It was the first time in years that he had peacefully rested through the night. For the first time, what’s past is truly past, and he felt like he was taking the first steps towards healing.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber fan fiction #fifof

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weeb-writor · 4 years

Text

MHA boys on take your kid to work day

Hello! New post with 3 of my loves! Just them reacting to your kids visting them at work Bakugou and Aizawa are fluff and just a hint sad while Izuku’s is fluff and crack! Reader is neutral.

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Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Aizawa Shouta x Reader, Midoriya Izuku x Reader

They react to their kids coming to visit them on bring your kid to work day

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BAKUGOU KATSUKI

When little Kaori said she wanted to go with Bakugou to bring your kid to work day, who she called Papa, you were a little hurt but decided hey you could use this as an excuse to hang out with him as well. A sort of family day at Bakugou's agency. Bakugou on the other hand was less than thrilled he did not want his baby girl anywhere near the dangerous agency or on the field with him. He also couldn't say no so, here you were with your daughter all dressed in his official costume merch, bouncing on your hip with joy.

“We at daddy work now?” She said as she glanced around.

“Little girl even if you ask every two minutes it won't make us get there faster.” You said with a smile.

“Otay!” She said with her cute slur. She didn't get the chance to ask the question again as you entered the building.

“Oh look who it is!” A voice boomed out to you both. You recognize it as Kirishima, Kaori's partner in crime. Next to him was Bakugou who was giving you a goofy smile.

“Uncle Eiji! Uncle Eiji!” The little girl roared as she ran to meet him, slipping from your arms. She dashed into his rams and giggled as he threw her into the air.

“Oi you little brat! What about papa, just forgot all about me? Im wounded.” Bakugou said in a playful tone. The little girl gasped and grabbed bakugou's leg when she was back on the ground.

“No papa don't be wounded! I didn't forgot you!” She said into his leg, bakugou picked her up with a chuckle and came to your side.

“Yeah don't worry she didn’t forget about her precious papa. You all she could talk about I didn’t think I would find someone who talks about you more than you do but then again she is your kid.” You said making yourself and Kirishima laugh.

“OUR kid! You talk about me just as much, i'm the best husband and dad and hero, of course she’s gonna brag about me to anyone with ears.” He said ruffling her hair as he placed her down next to him.

“Papa, c’mon we gotta do papa works!” The little girl said, bouncing around the lobby.

“Oh yeah! You wanna see papa and me kick some ass?! You gotta take all in so you can be a great hero too someday!” Kiri said, further riling the girl up.

“Yay! Gonna watch you and papa kick ass and take names!!” The girl said not watching how her parents' faces paled. Kirishima only laughed and told you he was gonna take Kaori on a tour of his office real quick.

“Stop being such a bad influence on my daughter shitty hair!” Your husband roared after the pair of giggling retreating figures.

“Him? Puppy eyed, soft, and cuddly Kirishima Eijirou, badly influencing Kaori? It's all you babe, the little girl is so in love with you she does everything you do, just a bit cuter.” You said as you pecked his check.

“She isn't like me, stop saying that.” He said seriously with a grunt.

“She is, you are her hero. She wants to be just like you, what's the problem with that? You’ve been pushing her away every since she said she wanted to come here.” You said glaring at him.’

“I have not.” He said looking away from you.

“Yes you have, Katsuki, just talk to me cause you're gonna break your daughters heart. Every night you used to tell her stories of your patrols. Buy her you and Eijirou’s hero merch, hell even deku’s. Kids arent dumb shes is going to notice you stopped doing those things.” You said grabbing his chin and making him meet your eyes.

“She shouldn't want to be like me, okay!! I never want her to be a Pro-hero! I never want her to have scars on every inch of her body’s and be insecure about how she looks! I never want her to have nightmares of screams or the people she couldn’t save. I don’t want to worry that one day she might not come home, okay. And all the shit I went through at UA!? No way.” He whisper shouted at you.

“You're getting way ahead of yourself baby. Kaori isn’t even in school yet and barely has bloomed into her quirk. She isn’t getting any battle scars just bumps and bruises. It’s easy to worry about the what if’s but it’s even easier to just focus on her laugh or her smile when she talks about you. Love your also forgetting you are more than a pro hero, your a good man who’s funny, brave, and little wild. That’s who Kaori wants to be like not Dynamight, she wants to be like her papa, Bakugou Katsuki.” You said caressing his cheeks. He considered your words with flushed cheeks, before he let out a sigh but before he could respond Kaori came crashing to him.

“Papa! Papa! Papa!” The girl said jumping up and down with her hands up. Bakugou laughed but picked her up nonetheless.

“C’mon papa! We gots to go do paperworks! Uncle kiri said we do that then we go kickass!” She said wigging with happiness in his arms, you laughed as he paled again.

“Sure baby girl but please don’t say that bad word, papa doesn’t like it.” He said as he walked towards his office.

“To bads! I wanna be just like you papa and you say it so I’m gonna say it too!” She said, pulling at his cheeks.

“You damn brat just listen to me! If you’re gonna try to be like me at least be a better version not a copy pasted person which means no cussing!” He yelled gently at her.

“Okay papa! Does this mean you’ll teach me how to be as great as papa! Wanna be just like you ‘member” she said with determination.

“Don’t say anymore no no words today and hell yeah I will! I’ll teach you how to be even better than Papa.” Bakugou said not looking at Kaori but looking at you. His look was saying what his mouth couldn’t, he was done thinking of what could happen years from now. Right now he just wanted to do whatever made his little girl smile whatever that means.

AIZAWA SHOUTA

“Tell me you did not.” Aizawa said to his blonde friend.

“I did, you can't be mad!” Hizashi said with a chuckle.

“I can be and I am. I told you I didn't want them here.” he said lowly.

“There are a bunch of pros here, security is super tight and they know not to call you or me by our government names or to say their full names and besides Y/n is gonna be here the whole time.” The blonde said, trying to calm down his friend.

“No matter how tight our security is, stuff seems to slip through the cracks and put the students in danger. I don't need any villains learning I have not one not two but three huge and very exploitable weaknesses.” He said as they neared his rooms where his students were waiting.

“They are wearing face masks and hoods. Any part of them that is distinguishable is being hidden, its gonna be fine. Don't act like you aren't excited to see them, its been 4 days i know you're itching to see them.” Hizashi said as his friend went into his classroom. He had only gotten about halfway through the class when the door opened and you were seen in the doorway.

“Dada!!” The little one year old said in your arms skirming for her dad. The whole class craned their necks to see you, your one year old, and your 4 year old.

“Hello Eraserhead!” You laughed as you went to sit at an open desk placing both of the kids on your lap. The class glanced from the kids to their teacher and back again.

“Sensei! You have kids! And you're married!” A blonde one yelled.

“Denki stop yelling you're gonna give me a headache. Yes I do, which I hope you can all keep them a secret.” He said with a sigh.

“You're such a grump I don't know how they tolerate you. Hello, I am Y/n, this little one is Kumiko, and this one is Shira.” You said as you waved at them, Kumiko copied you and gave the kids a lazy wave to which all the kids cooed at. Aizawa smiled and went back to explaining what the class would be doing for the rest of class period which was just some research on a few different kinds of hero agency.

“Hello my pretty girls.” Aizawa said taking the bouncing girl from you.

“Hi daddy! Can I help you with your work!” Shira said with a toothy smile, she had a sort of fascination with quirks.

“To be honest sweet thing they are learning big words right now, words too big for you but im sure they would love to talk to you and tell you about their quirks.” He said ruffling her hair. Then his quirk activated as he looked at his class.

“Say anything inappropriate, lose control of your quirk and hurt her and I'll expel you.” He said menacingly to which all the kids nodded in fear. That's all Shira needed to hear before she walked over to a group of students.

“She was so excited when I told her we were going to see you, I think she's going to be a teacher someday.” You said gazing up at Aizawa who was playing with Kumiko.

“Uh uh sweet talk like that isn't gonna work. I told you it is too dangerous for them to be here.” He said with a pout.

“I remember saying there isn't a safer place than with you!” You said with a small smile.

“Well have it your way as usual when Shira or Kumiko start acting like one of these brats you and Mic will be to blame.” He said with a sigh.

“Well Mr. Easerhead, I'll be prepared for punishment! I think i have nothing to fear though the smile on your face says everything you can't.” You said as he played with your daughter. The day went like this. You and Aizawa playing with Kumiko and Shira floating about the classroom, The day had almost went by without any event when Shira louds cries were heard. Aizawa handed Kumiko to you and was at her side in a second. She rushed into his torso and cried even more. The class all had their fingers pointed to 3 of the boys.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He spoke to her softly. Her little fist rubbed at her eyes.

“I told then that you were the best hero and then green one was like ‘thats All might’ and then the blonde one was like ‘yeah he really great person’ then the red and white one was like ‘yeah he is number 1’ they dumb assholes anyway cus he not 1 anymore dats ‘devor! You're the best hero, aren't you daddy?” The girl said as she looked at her dad with stars in her eyes. You were just laughing as quietly as you could.

“Im anything you want me to be sweetheart but don't say asshole it's a naughty word for adults.” He said, wiping the drying tears from her cheeks.

“But the blonde one said it alot.” She said with a pout.

“Did he now? Well in that case I forgot you have a 3 mile run today, and it's a test. Be back before class is over which is roughly 30 no 27 minutes or you'll be put on cleaning duty for the whole school including the dorms.” He said and the class was off just like that. Your small family watched from the window as the students ran with Shira sometimes yelling out the window.

“And don't stop until you finished you lazy wannabe heroes!” She shouted with a happy smile.

“Did I say it right daddy?” She said wiggling in his arms.

“Yes you did sweetheart.” He said with a proud smile.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

You and the twins had been at Izuku’s agency for a while and he was going insane. The boys were 3 and nothing like their father. They were wild, loud and adventurous. They didn't and wouldn't stay still. The office loved it but Izuku was about to have a heart attack, Tatsuo was missing. He was only 3 and couldn't really open the door or operate an elevator so you, Bakugou, and Uraraka were not all that worried but poor Izuku was.

“Deku calm the fuck down. He’s been gone for like 2 minutes maybe he couldn't have got far.” Bakugou said to his stressing friend who was putting Toshi back into his leash backpack thing.

“It only takes 1 second to get hurt or die, Kacchan. I’ve failed as a parent.” He said, sounding too serious. You couldn't stop your laughter now.

“Honey, our kids are too predictable. Just get a bag of C-A-N-D-Y from their bag and shake, Tatsuo will come running.” You said with a small smile taking Toshi from him.

“Oh good thinking!” He said getting a bag and shaking like crazy. Soon little footsteps were heard and Tatsuo emerged from behind Izuku smiling like crazy.

“Daddy, can I have a candy, pretty please!” He said with his cute smile almost making his father forget he ran from then.

“Only if you promise to never wander off like that again!” Izuku said as sternly as he could, but it wasn't very stern at all. The boy nodded at him and stuck out his hand but when he did Izuku noticed blood all over his hand and fainted within seconds. You and Bakugou went to find bandages and a first aid-kit for Tatsou while Uraraka got water to wake up Izuku.

“Oh my gosh! Does he need stitches or something! We should take him to the hospital.” Izuku said as he shot awake. The people around all laughed at the green haired boy.

“No babe, he was just playing with a stapler and staple his hands…. A few times but he’s fine.” You said pointing to the two boys who were watching Bakugou make very small explosions.

“Tatsuo! Toshi! Don't get too close you could get hurt! We should go home babe, hey Uravity take over for me I’m going home!!” He yelled shakily. You weren't sure what you were gonna do with your worrywart husband, especially when the boys do or don't get quirks. He couldn't handle them now without needing an inhaler. He damn sure couldn't if they got quirks, you could picture it now. A funeral caused by your rambunctious kids for your husband. ‘Here lies a lovely but overbearing and worrywart father.’

#bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugou #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #deku x reader #bnha midoriya #mha fanfiction #mha deku #bnha x reader

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever? Ch.7

Warning(s): nothing really, this chapter is pretty tame really.

If you want to be tagged please let me know or if you're already tagged and wish to not be just let me know

taglist: @mediocredetective @it-hurts-when-i-blink @ima-simp-uwu

The click-clacking of heeled shoes reverberates through the halls as the Avatar of Lust nears Diavolo’s office. With rapid frantic knocks on the door. It swings open to reveal the Demon’s butler, Barbatos.

“Asmodeus, what can I do for you?” The green-haired demon asks as he studies the other.

“I came to request an emergency audience with Lord Diavolo. Please, it's really important. He’s the only one who can help.” Asmo is out of breath from the speed at which they ran to get here, shaken in the way they talk.

“First, why don’t you come in and we’ll talk.” Barbatos offers. “I’ve prepared some tea and backed good. The young lord is in a very important meeting with a group of witches but once he’s done, you can speak with him at length about whatever this emergency is.”

Asmo nods as they do their best to compose themselves just a little bit.

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

“So what is all this about?” The future demon king asks as he sits across from the Avatar of Lust, “It must be incredibly important considering you’re currently skipping class.”

“It’s Lucifer. He’s gone mad- off the deep end with his latest punishment.” The fifth-born says, “Ever since he brought Mammon back from the human world, things have rough at home. It’s like Lucifer is holding him hostage, controlling who Mammon does and doesn’t interact with. He’s been trying to convince our brother of things that aren’t true and its working. It’s like we’ve lost the person our oldest brother used to be and I’m scared he may never go back to the Lucifer we all love and respect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we all knew Mammon wasn’t happy with us and that’s why he wasn’t ever going to come back from the human world- understandable since you know how we all treat him like a scapegoat for our stress and frustrations. And when he came home, we all tried to show him we were really going to change our ways this time- that we were honestly sorry for the things we’ve done. He’s said multiple times that he no longer considered the House of Lamentation his home and that he wants to go back to the place where he feels loved- to the place he thinks he belongs. Every time... Every time he’s said that, Lucifer has been there to tell him that he’s only imagining that he’s not loved here, that the Devildom is the only place he belongs. But I know that’s not true. You can belong in multiple places at once. And then things started slowly getting worse. Mammon is never out of Lucifer’s sight for long and when Lucifer can be there to loom over him, he has his peacocks follow Mammon around everywhere so he can’t find some way to get back to the human world and Arella.

Whenever Mammon tries to get Lucifer to get off his back for even just a few minutes, he tells Mammon that he’s crazy and Lucifer or his familiars were never in the area to begin with. He’s convincing our brother that he’s unwell in the head and delusional. Do you know Lucifer had Arella’s D.D.D. disconnected so she can’t even get in contact with any of us let alone Mammon. What’s worse, Arella has been writing letters to Mammon to check up on him. She sends them back with Solomon every time he comes back from the mortal realm, but Lucifer takes those letters and burns them before Mammon can even get a look at them. And just today, right before class, Lucifer was gaslighting Mammon into believing that Arella was only trying to isolate him from us, that she was putting ideas in his head, that she was just using him for her own benefit- that she never loved him to begin with and the only people he needed in his life was us. I... I think it worked.”

Diavolo’s honey-colored eyes widened at the words tumbling out of Asmo’s mouth. “Where are they now?”

“Lucifer took Mammon home to rest. He looked so upset by what Lucifer said that he looked like he was five seconds away from a breakdown. Please, I’m begging you to step in and help us get our oldest brother back to the way he was before. And Mammon... he needs to get back to Arella... she’s... expecting.”

“Really now?” The prince is genuinely shocked at this turn of events. “How far along?”

“She’s five- nearly six- months now. I saw her a few weeks ago and she seems to be healthy but half-demons are so rare who knows what’ll happen if he doesn’t get back to her soon.”

Diavolo nods at this. Things were indeed dire at this point. “Here’s what we’ll do. You and Solomon are going to take Mammon on a trip- let's say to a spa and resort. If you don’t feel safe going just the three of you, take another one or two of your brothers along with you. It’ll all be a ruse, however. You’ll all head to the human world to visit Arella and then you’ll bring her back with you after the baby is born.” He looks toward his trusty butler and longtime companion. “Barbatos, I would like you to look for suitable housing for the two of them. Don’t worry about the cost.”

“As you wish, my Lord.”

“I myself will have a talk with Lucifer and see why he changed so suddenly and what we can do to reach a compromise of sorts. There must be a reason behind all of this.

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

He just wants to be left alone tonight- to have some time for himself to grieve the loss of what he thought was true love. He nuzzled into his pillow; lapis-like eyes squeezed tight as he held a sheep plushie close to his chest. He didn’t want to believe what Lucifer had said earlier at school but what was he supposed to think? The Avatar of Pride was truthful in his statement that he had never lied to him unless it was to protect him and their brothers. And Arella hadn’t even tried to call him or summon him back so it felt like Lucifer’s words must’ve been the truth.

He could just faintly hear the door open and close softly before there was a weight on his bed right behind him. Mammon knew the smell of that perfume anywhere. It was Asmo.

“Hey, Mams,” the Avatar of Lust rubs their brother’s shoulder soothingly only pulling away when he cried, the touch reminding him of the human he missed so much. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss ‘er... I miss ‘er so much but... she was just usin’ me all this time... she... never loved me like I thought she did.”

“Mammon, no. No, that’s not true at all. Arella misses you just as much as you miss her. You know those letters that Solomon tries to give you- the ones Lucifer burns on sight?”

The Avatar of Greed nods in response.

“They’re filled with questions about your well-being. How you’re doing, if you’ve gotten to do anything new or fun, if you’re safe or hurt, how much she loves and cares for you, and how she hopes she can see you again someday once all this blows over. There was something she wanted to tell you the day you were brought back here.”

“What was it?” The white-haired demon asks as he turned his head to his little brother.

“She’s having a baby. You’re going to be a father.”

“What?! Yer not pulling my leg, are ya?”

“No, no I’m not. Congratulations.” The strawberry-blonde-haired demon smiles brightly. “Also, I talked to Lord Diavolo earlier and he came up with a plan to help you sneak up to the human world so you can be with her until the baby is born.”

“Wha- why?”

“Because aside from Lucifer, the rest of us agree that you deserve to be happy- even if you can’t find that happiness with us anymore. We all know you’re miserable down here and I know we’ve all done things to you in the past that were undeserved and we just want to make up for that because we love you.”

“What happens after that? Asmo, I’m not leaving Arella or our baby. I can’t.”

“I know. We’re going to bring them back with us and the you guys will live somewhere else besides the House of Lamentation- you're going to need the space after all.”

“But what about Arella’s job in the human world- she loves it an’ I can’t force ‘er ta leave it behind. It’s not fair.”

“She loves you more though. Just trust me, ‘kay? Everything will work out in the end.”

Mammon only nods as Asmo leans in to whisper in his ear and fill him in on their plan.

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

Find more on my Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me angst #obey me fluff #obey me mammon #mammon angst #mammon fluff #obey me oc #arella #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me asmodeus

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hockeyboysimagines · 3 years

Note

Request: Perfect- Ed Sheeran with Mat Brazal

This is my absolute favorite song right now! I hope you enjoy this, and thanks for being the first submission!💕

I found a love for me

Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you're holding mine

Mat had watched her descend the stairs in amazement. When he thought she couldn’t get any more beautiful she had proved him wrong again. The Winter Gala was that evening, and he had been nervously anticipating it for weeks. She had been his girlfriend for a while now, but it would be their first public engagement together, and the first time he had ever brought her around the team. He watched as she moved, her dress hugging every curve, and her hair catching the light as she stopped in front of him smiling sweetly at him.

“Do I look okay?” She asked fidgeting “I feel like I look a mess.”

“You look perfect.” He managed to breathe out, extending a hand for her to take. She looked down at her feet, cheeks flushed. He pulled her slowly towards the car he had waiting. Every person they encountered had stared at her in Awe, and he really didn’t blame them. He stopped in front of the car, and pulled her in for a long slow kiss, each time better than the last.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

The Gala was packed by 8 pm. There were at least 100 pretty girls in dresses milling around the room but May couldn’t take his eyes off his. She was socializing with the other wives, champagne glass in hand. She had been welcomed almost instantly, her smile and soft laugh having won everyone over. He was so entranced with her he almost didn’t notice Marty sit down next to him.

“Earth to Barz.” He said waving a hand in front of his face.

“I-sorry what?” He asked, cheeks reddening. Marty laughed and shook his head.

“You’ve got that look buddy.”

“What look?”

“The same look we all had when we first met our wives.”

She turned to smile at him, as a slow song began to play. Marty gave him a shove and said “Go dance with your girl man.”

He stood and crossed the floor, pulling her away from the group with a small smile “Come dance with me.” He pulled her close to him, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and perfume. It was making him lightheaded as he spun her around, and pulled her back to him. She let out a giggle and met his eye.

“Your going to mess up my hair if you keep spinning me around like this. I already look a mess.”

“You look perfect.” He whispered, but she heard it. A small smile crept on to her face and she tucked her head into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

We are still kids, but we're so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we'll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I'll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

“I’m happy for you bro.” Tito said giving him a good natured shove and a big smile.

“Thanks man. It’s crazy. The way I feel about her.” Mat felt himself flush. He had never been good at talking about his feelings but the way she unexpectedly come into his life and turned his world upside down had rattled him. Tito smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“She just…amazing. I think she might be it for me man.”

Tito’s eyebrows shot up “Seriously?”

“I think so. It’s insane I know. I’m only 23, and she’s only 22. There’s no reason I should be thinking about any of this, but I think…I think I’m in love with her.”

A smile, wider than any smile Mat had ever seen, crossed Tito’s face and before he knew it he had swept him into a tight hug and gave him a little shake.

“That’s awesome man! This calls for a toast.” He waved someone over with champagne and held up his glass.

“To my best buddy, and his best girl.”

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful

I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

I have faith in what I see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don't deserve this

You look perfect tonight

“Where are we going?” She asked as he led her down a path behind the event center. Thousands of lights had been strung up, illuminating the flowers and trees that led to a gazebo. He pulled her up just as Perfect played through the speakers. They danced silently for a few minutes until he felt like he was about to burst.

“You really look amazing tonight.” He said looking down at her. He looked so handsome in his tux and his dark hairs she could stare into those hazel eyes for the rest of her life is she had been allowed.

“Stop. I’m just a girl in a pretty dress.”

He shook his head as he brought a hand up to her cheek “No your not. Your an Angel. Your my Angel. And I love you.”

The words she had been waiting to hear for so long hit her right in the heart, and she smiled softly.

“I love you too Mat.” He leaned down, lips connecting with her as they kissed under the stars.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

But professor… - epilogue

Summary: It's been a year and a half since their little baby was born. How are the two of them doing?

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: Is it the end for Penny and Walter? Yes, omg i can't believe. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it. The story took a full 180 (especially because I intended this story to be much shorter lol), but I'm very satisfied nonetheless 🥰

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

Declan has a plan and that is to go outside. I mean, it’s kinda fair, since he spend a lot of time inside today. Not that he complained. No, no, no, he was an absolute angel at the salon—like always—playing with his toys, while I was at work, but now he needs some fresh air after we had a quick snack at home.

This little man is definitely as head strong as his dad, however he isn’t as stubborn as Walter can be.

Declan attempts to throw a ball at me and I can see there is some definite improvement. Just like any kid at that age, he is distracted like that. ‘Momma, momma,’ he says, pointing to a truck that passes by. ‘Dada!’

‘Oh honey, that is not his truck,’ I say, crouching down next to him. ‘Dada is gonna become soon. In his other car. His work car.’

Declan points. ‘No dada?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Dada home?’

‘Almost,’ I say to him, giving him a kiss on his cheek. Declan stops playing altogether, staring at the road, waiting for Walter to come home. His mouth slightly agape, as he focused on every car that passes by.

Finally his car pulls up and I exclaim: ‘There he is!’ When Walter gets out of the car with a smile that is only this wide when he sees us, I let Declan go and watch him wobble over to his dad. With one hand he lifts the little boy up and presses kisses on his chubby cheek. ‘I missed you,’ Walter says, looking his son in the eye.

‘Dada miss, dada miss!’

He chuckles. ‘That’s right.’ He walks up to me and says: ‘There is my princess.’

‘Princess momma,’ Declan says.

‘Give me a kiss, sweetheart,’ he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I press a peck on his lips and melt against his frame.

‘It went splendid,’ I say. ‘I actually got to do someone’s hair for an important interview and afterwards, she came back to the salon and told me it went great!’

He smiles. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

After Declan was born, I stayed home for about six months, acclimatizing to being a mom and those sleepless nights. It was hard, I cried a lot and I was very scared. I think I hung on the phone with my mom about seventy percent of the time, while calling Walter the remaining thirty percent. I have adjusted pretty okayish, especially when Walter went to work, made sure I have nothing to worry about.

No stress, providing for the two of us as much as he can and Declan and I sure are lucky that Walter is the love of my life.

My parents helped me financially to go to cosmetology school, which was an absolute blast. It was around fifteen minutes from my place and Declan was always allowed to come with me.

He sure wrapped everyone around his fingers with no issue at all.

While Walter still is that grumpy detective he was when I met him outside of our house, he changes into a big fluffy ball, shaped like a human the second the front door closes. No matter how tired he was, how long his shift was, he pushes it aside to take care of his family.

We walk inside of our place and I tell him: ‘I made dinner.’

While I’m not a world class chef, I do manage to make some decent meals, especially because I wanted to make Declan’s baby food, since my mom raised me with that as well (though I was no saint and had jars as well stored in my kitchen, just in case).

‘Princess, I’m so lucky to have you,’ Walter says. Once we’re inside, he places Declan in the high chair and scoots his own chair closer to it, a silent message that he will help Declan eat today. ‘Okay, little fella,’ Walter says, ‘you gonna be a good boy and not spill the food over me?’

Declan nods. ‘Deccie, good boy.’

I give Walter a kiss, after placing his plate and Declan’s in front of him. ‘He has been such a good boy at the salon today, so it’ll go great, I’m sure.’

After I sit across Walter, he asks about my day. From the looks of it, he had a rough one. Thankfully enough happened at the salon today for me to talk about. While we’re still working on improving him sharing more details, but I kinda understand. With Declan repeating a lot of words recently, we get a little bit more careful with what we’re saying.

After Dinner, Walter and I curl up on the couch after Walter changed into something more comfortable. Declan places his head on my chest, his eyelids growing heavier before he stretches out his hand to place on Walter’s chest.

I nuzzle against Walter’s side.

‘He is so cute,’ Walter notes.

I smile. ‘He sure is. He has your curls.’

‘But your pout and eyes. How can I ever say no to this kid?’

I shake my head. ‘You can’t, honey. I tried it today and it was the hardest thing in my life.’

He starts to chuckle softly. ‘You got nothing to do tomorrow?’

‘No, why?’

‘Can you come down the precinct? I wanna show off the two of you.’

I smile. ‘Oh my goodness, you are so predictable. Of course, I can come by. Maybe I’ll even steal some of my mom’s cookies, tell them I baked them.’

He chuckles. ‘Oh, you shouldn’t be lying when at the police.’

Declan stretches himself and whines a little bit. ‘Momma,’ he says, looking up to see me.

‘Oh, I think someone is really tired,’ I say. ‘You wanna go to bed?’

He nods. ‘Deccie tired.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Here, sweetheart, I’ll do it. You relax, okay?’ Walter stands up and after I gave Declan a kiss, Walter lifts him up and carries the tired little one up the stairs.

I watch my big buff boyfriend walk back into the living room and he places the baby monitor in front of us, before he sits back on the couch. That monitor basically is glued to Walter’s hand as he always checks up on his boy. I thought I would be the parent that worries the most, however Walter puts me to shame.

The two of them are as thick as thieves and it makes me so grateful that we have a son together.

‘How was work today?’ I ask him.

He shrugs. ‘There was a dad who left his kids in the car,’ he says, ‘in the burning sun, before literally running away. Took us two hours before we found him.’

‘Oh no.’

‘Yeah, it was painful. The kids are gonna be okay, but… It reminds me that Declan is a really lucky kid.’

‘Do those kids have someone to go to?’

‘Yeah, an aunt,’ Walter says, rubbing his face. ‘Come here, princess.’

I wrap my arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on his lips. ‘I missed you.’

Walter smiles. ‘I missed you too. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you two in the yard, waiting for me. Especially after a shitty day like this one.’

‘You know you can always call me,’ I say. ‘Really, I always want to listen to you. You before anyone else, okay?’

He nods. ‘Have I already told you today that you are a very amazing mother and how lucky I am?’

I shake my head. ‘Nope, not today.’

He pulls me on his lap and gives me a peck on my forehead. ‘Just everything you do and say to him… It’s like you always know exactly what to do and you stay so patient and kind.’

‘Oh, Walter, that’s too sweet. I can guarantee: it’s all because you stayed—or at least pretended—to stay calm. Had you not done that, I would absolutely freaked out every time Declan had a funny breathing.’ I ruffle through his hairs and ask: ‘Have I been good to you as well?’

‘What kind of question is that? Of course you have. I’m so lucky that I have you and you and I have a family. There is no one else in the world I would rather have with me for important events.’ He places his hand on my sides, pushing up my shirt. ‘Give me a kiss, princess.’

I willingly oblige and press my lips on his. ‘I love you, Walter.’

‘Oh, I love you too. I want your honest opinion and really be honest, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I chuckle.

‘What do you say if you and I have another one?’

‘Another what?’

‘Kid.’

My eyes widen. ‘Really?’ I ask. He actually wants another kid with me? I mean, I always figured we would have more than one kid, but that would be in the future a little bit further away.

But already another one?

‘Yeah and I mean, if you’re not ready, then I totally understand and I won’t bring it up until you are ready, but I personally would love it.’ He smiles and adds: ‘I mean, two of the most beautiful babies running around here? Together with my beautiful girlfriend, who I’ll make my wife someday?’

I should not be squealing, yet I totally do. ‘Walter, honey,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I’d love to have another baby with you.’

He starts to smile even wider. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. I’d love for Declan to have a few brothers and sisters.’

‘A few? How many you thinking about?’

‘I don’t know. How about three kids? Or four?’

He starts to laugh. ‘Then you and I better get some practice in with some baby making,’ he chuckles. ‘Because this time it’s not gonna be an accident.’

I slap him across his chest. ‘Walter, what did I say about that word?’

‘Oh, right right.’ He gives me a kiss and says: ‘Declan wasn’t an accident, he was our surprise baby. Forgot.’

I place my forehead against his, wrapping my arms around his neck. ‘Forever and ever, right?’

‘Forever and ever.’

#walter marshall #walter marshall x penny townsend #walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x asian ofc #penny townsend #asian ofc #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #but professor

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years

Text

When Clary meets Ash (Fan Fic)

Hey :) this is how I imagine Clary and Ash's reunion (after the events of TDA) in the fic I am currently writing.

It's Chapter 5 of "The new Shadowhunter Academy" (Ao3 link to the full fic is here but don't click or skip Chapter 4 if you are not in for Kitty sexy times).

Thanks to @amchara for providing beta work and to @blaidr for letting me bounce my ideas off him.

To give you context, Ash met Dru in Faerie and they exchanged their numbers. Clary seized the opportunity to obtain Ash's number from Dru and write him the following text message:

“Hey, Ash. Dru gave me your number and please don’t be angry with her, I am very strong headed and there was absolutely no way she could have refused. I am Clary. You may have heard of me. I am your late father’s sister. That’s right, your aunt. You can call me whatever you like. Emma told me what you did in Thule, how you saved her. How you saved everyone. That was very brave of you. In a way, both of us were faced with a very difficult choice and made the same. Doing what we thought was right. I would love to meet you and tell you about my mother – your grandmother – or just talk about anything. It can be things totally unrelated to the Shadow world. Hobbies, movies, books and games we like. You can pick the time and place. Neutral territory. Hope to see you soon. Clary.”

This is what happens following the text:

*****

Clary wrapped her oversized woolen coat tighter around herself, as she made her way through the crowded streets of Manhattan. The route was familiar. She took it almost every week to meet up with her parabatai and have what they called their “mundane hour”. They talked about everything, from Clary’s art to the latest TV shows they had binge watched. No topic was off the table, save for anything related to Shadowhunter duties, and the Shadow world in general. As co-head of the New York Institute and since recently, artist owning her own gallery, her weeks were very busy so she looked forward to those rare and precious moments when she could escape with Simon. Her heart rate seemed to accelerate with each of her steps, and it didn’t help that she also had the strange feeling she was being observed. When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath and opened the double glass doors leading her inside the coffee shop. She and Simon had their regular routine there, and her gaze went automatically to their usual spot, near the large windows.

A broad-shouldered jock with a baseball jacket was already sitting there, speaking loudly to his cheerleader girlfriend. Two of his friends were standing next to him, mock punching his muscular arms. It made her realize that Ash probably never had this. High school friends and romance. Ash. She was still struggling to figure out why he had asked her to meet up at this place, at the exact time she usually got there with Simon. Was it him being considerate, a clumsy way to make her feel comfortable in familiar surroundings? Or was it a warning? I know your habits, and precisely where you take your coffee, when and with whom.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room - her heart seemed to have moved up her throat, the frantic pulse almost choking her - and zeroed on a tall, white blond haired boy ordering coffee at the counter, standing with his back to Clary. She sucked in a breath. Ash. He was fully clothed in black - Dru had told her that was his usual style - and huge headphones were covering his ears. She slowly and cautiously approached him and when she was close enough, put a tentative hand on his elbow. “Ash,” she whispered. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes quizzical and… it was not Ash.

She mumbled an apology.

“Clary,” said a voice coming from behind, and she froze. It was not a boy’s but a man’s voice, the sound beautiful and ethereal. She just stood there for a few seconds before she slowly turned.

What had she expected? Merely a taller version of the young boy with pointy ears and a sour expression that she had met three years before, dressed in the same refined velvet clothing threaded with gold that identified him as fey royalty?

If so, she had clearly been mistaken.

She blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He was tall, as she had anticipated (Sebastian had been after all). At least two heads taller than her and probably taller than Jace. But he was also very different from the Ash of her memories, from the sketches she had drawn of him after they had crossed paths. He had amazingly grown into his features, his face now the best combination of the Seelie Queen and Sebastian’s. As if he had picked the most alluring colours of the palette. And the result was… Stunning. Clary’s hand twitched, aching for a pencil.

He was not dressed in black, but in plain blue jeans and he had stuffed his hands in a very elegant, long pale gray cashmere coat. His white blond hair and pointy ears were concealed under a deep green beanie, the same colour as the scarf around his neck.

He arched a silvery eyebrow at Clary, his expression bemused, and she realized she was staring.

“Clary, seriously?” he said, his gently scolding tone at odds with his enchanting voice. “This guy isn't even half as good looking as me." He glanced pointedly at the patron in question, who was gaping at him, and shrugged. "No offense, dude,” Ash added as an afterthought.

He turned his attention to the barista. She was beautiful, dark skinned with long braided hair and pouty lips. “Hello, gorgeous. We’ll have a double espresso with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon for the lady and a plain black coffee for me.”

Clary stifled a gasp and tried to hide her discomfort. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, and she didn’t know how she felt about this.

The pretty barista nodded eagerly, her cheeks red and her big dark eyes dreamy as she stared at Ash. “Why don’t you… Go sit at your table and I’ll bring you your beverages when they are ready?” the girl offered enthusiastically. The long line of patrons that had formed behind Clary and Ash would probably disagree but she didn’t seem to care.

“That would be lovely,” Ash said in his euphonious voice. “And so are you.” He winked at her, and Clary wondered if she would need to catch her while she swooned. He paid before Clary even had a chance to reach for her purse.

“Come,” he said in a commanding tone, as he made his way to Clary and Simon's usual table. This was unnerving.

The jock seated there paused in the middle of his conversation with his girlfriend when he saw Ash stand casually next to him. Clary braced herself for a heated exchange, but she should have known better.

“You want to sit somewhere else,” Ash said evenly, one hand inside the pocket of his designer coat and the other stretched out in front of him as he studied his fingernails.

“I want to sit somewhere else,” the jock repeated in a monotonous voice, his gaze blank. He stood, as if in a trance, and his girlfriend and friends followed him, puzzled, to an empty table at the far end of the room.

Ash drew a chair for Clary and she sat. He did the same, opposite her. He pulled off his beanie, and shook his silvery hair, like a crown of liquid white gold. He wasn’t dressed for the part but he had never looked more like a prince.

“Ash… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Your mind tricks.”

He cocked his head and observed her, his face unreadable, for what seemed like an endless minute.

“You’ve been my aunt for what? Five minutes? And you’re already trying to boss me around?”

“I am not trying to boss you around, Ash. Simply asking you not to abuse your powers.”

A shadow flickered across his green eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Clary. I spend much more time and energy holding back than using my powers. If I did let go, trust me, you would know.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply but was cut short as the barista popped in front of them and placed the mugs on the table. She slid a paper napkin to Ash, her phone number scribbled on it. Clary tried not to roll her eyes, as Ash flashed his dazzling smile at the girl, who almost tripped on her own feet as she returned to the counter.

Clary lifted her cup to her lips and paused, as she caught sight of the cinnamon powder floating on the surface. She put it down.

“What about this?" She pointed at her coffee mug and waved around them. “ What is it, if not a show of power? What are you trying to tell me? That you know everything about me? That you’ve been spying on me?”

Ash pulled on a fake shocked expression, mouth open and green eyes wide in mock innocence. “Spying on you? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Ash. The evidence is right here.” She lifted her cup abruptly, and hot liquid splashed out of it. “You know exactly how I like it. When I take it, where I take it.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “Where did you pick up these lines? From the script of some lame X-rated movie?”

“Adult movies have storylines?” Clary asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course they do. Where do you think the Grimm Brothers took their inspiration from?”

He grabbed the paper napkin and started mopping the coffee she had spilled on the table. The blue ink faded and the barista’s phone number vanished.

“You lost that girl’s number,” Clary noted.

Ash shrugged. “I have a girlfriend now.”

Right. Drusilla Blackthorn. From the moment she had met her, Clary had known that the smart and quiet turquoise-eyed girl would someday turn heads.

Clary knew that Dru hadn’t really confirmed their relationship status yet, but it was neither the time nor place to broach the subject with Ash. She was, after all, on a mission to win over her nephew and had not been doing a very good job so far.

A young lanky boy with pink hair and piercings covering his skin walked by and dropped a glossy flyer of the upcoming Mortal Instruments concert on the table between them. Clary hid a smile. It reminded her...

“I have something for you.” She said as she fumbled inside her bag and took out the drawing she had made of Jocelyn, Luke and herself, in front of Luke’s upstate farm (before it was turned into the new Shadowhunter Academy) and laid it on the table.

Ash looked at it hesitantly, like a kid who really wanted to grab the candy but was afraid there was a mouse trap under it. He hunched his shoulders forward and clasped his hands under the table, as if to keep himself from temptation.

“I recognize your art. I like it. I also appreciate Julian Blackthorn’s but I may not be as objective where… one of the subjects of his drawings is concerned.”

“You’ve seen my art?”

He leaned back on his chair, crossing his long arms behind his head. Somehow, he managed to make it look graceful.

“Which Shadowhunter hasn’t? I noticed that you often drew Jace with angel wings.”

“Yes. That’s how he used to appear to me. In recurring dreams.”

“Was it?”

“Was it what?”

“Jace. In your dreams.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Someone who looks like him, but who actually has wings.”

“You mean Kit.”

Ash shrugged. “It would make more sense.” His gaze flickered back to the drawing, which still lay on the table, untouched. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“So do you”, Clary blurted before she could take it back.

Ash shot her an unfathomable look.

“How is she?” She asked.

“You mean, the Seelie Queen? You tell me. You must see her more often than I do.”

“Well, not really. I am not that involved in politics, even though Alec is Consul. Julian Blackthorn is the one who deals with her most of the time. She appears to have... a fondness for him.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Clary’s mouth quirked up.

“I am glad you are getting along with the Blackthorns. They are such an incredibly strong and talented family.”

“They are.” He turned his face away, but not before she could see the expression of longing plain on his delicate features.

She swallowed. She was painfully reminded that Ash never had a shot at a happy family. Born of a political union, and dragged here and there, though interdimensional portals, by people more interested in his powers than anything else he had to offer as a person. And judging by how Dru talked about Ash, he had a lot to offer.

“I imagine it must have been awful living in Thule… But what you did for Emma and Julian back there... if it hadn’t been for you…”

“I don’t want to talk about Thule,” he interrupted her. “Can I borrow this?” He asked, his long fingers brushing the Mortal Instruments concert flyer.

“Sure.”

She watched as he started folding the paper, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was making an origami and wondering what shape would come out of it. It was odd seeing him doing such an innocuous thing, as if he was not a faerie prince with a heavy heritage and a giant target on his back, but an ordinary boy. She remembered what Emma had told her of her encounter with Ash in a nightclub in Thule. The way he had shown no interest, playing a video game in a corner of the room, while Sebastian was committing atrocities. Had he really been as indifferent as he looked?

“Ash, we don’t need to talk about Thule if you don’t want to, but if I can help you… If there is anything I can do-”

“Why?” He looked up sharply. “Are you able to create a rune that could undo the things I saw?” His tone was even, but his delicate fingers had started slightly shaking and he suddenly dropped the paper - his work unfinished - to fold his hands under the table to hide it. From that moment, she knew.

“No…” Clary said, drawing the word out. “But trust me, coming from someone whose memory has been tampered with... it’s not a solution.”

“I said undo. Not forget.” He snapped. “I am not such a coward that I would choose blissful ignorance over knowledge.”

He caught himself, blinking, then clenched his jaw and looked away. As if he was ashamed he had allowed himself to show any emotion at all. But Clary had managed to catch a glimpse of what lay underneath the mask and wanted nothing more than to see the rest of it.

“I don’t think you are a coward,” she said.

He looked over at her, a silver eyebrow raised. “I let it all happen, didn’t I? I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Because you couldn’t. Sebastian would have killed you. And you, Ash, are just like me. A survivor.”

He snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back on his chair. He had stretched out his long legs and Clary realized that he was tapping a foot nervously next to hers.

“Wrong. I could have. I chose not to. Because I am selfish. I don’t care about other people’s fate.”

His face split into a lazy, wicked grin. Clary could see Sebastian’s influence in his leer, but she wouldn't let it deceive her. Just as she wasn't fooled by his laid-back demeanor.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think it’s because you care too much. It’s not death you are afraid of. The thing is, you have such a tender heart, you need to protect it from an affliction far greater than any physical pain you could endure. So you’d rather lie to yourself and pretend you feel nothing.”

From the long conversations she had with Tessa about her ancestors, Clary knew of a Fairchild boy who had been too compassionate for his own good. And he had been surrounded by loyal friends and loving parents, even though he had shut himself, putting on a facade while burying his grief in alcohol. Ash never had that kind of support. Throughout his life, he was left to figure things out on his own. If he was as empathetic as Clary thought he was, Ash probably had no other choice but to deal with his sensitivity alone. It was a miracle he had turned out the way he did.

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said after a moment. The ghost of a smile was still playing on his lips but something had passed across his eyes. “Then again, you are an artist. You seek beauty in the ugly. You find colors on a blank page. I admire your faith, but in this case, there is nothing to see.”

Clary jutted her chin stubbornly and they held each other’s gaze - his green eyes glittering in amusement and hers dead serious - in a staring contest.

“Still,” he said when he finally broke, first. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I am sorry.”

Clary softened. “Don’t be. I am glad you are finally showing your true self. You don’t need to wear your mask around me, Ash.”

He chuckled. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

“It’s funny that you would quote Oscar Wilde.”

“And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Just another thing you share in common with a Fairchild I heard stories about.”

“Clary,” he said in a gently reproving tone. Her name sounded like a caress in his melodious voice. “Are you being purposefully cryptic to arouse my curiosity?”

She moved closer, so she was sitting at the edge of her chair, and leaned forward, hands folded over the table.

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she whispered. “Let me in. Shed all pretense.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he whispered back in confidence, leaning closer still so that their faces were inches from each other. “It’s like fabric that burns and melts into skin. If you peel it off, the skin goes with it.” He grimaced, reclining on his chair. “It won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t think even my level of hotness could sustain it.”

“Ash…” Clary said, sensing that she finally had an opening to say what she had been brooding over ever since she had learnt of Ash’s return from that forsaken land. “I wanted to tell you… I am sorry.”

Ash’s green eyes widened.

“Sorry for what?”

“I should have looked for you. I should not have given up on you.”

Ash’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Seb-...Ash, we...”

“What did you just call me?” He snarled. His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly cold as ice.

“Sorry, Ash. What I meant to say is… we are family."

“I already have a family.”

“I know that you care about Janus…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he cut her off.

“And we don’t need to. I just wanted you to know… I understand that he’s been like a father to you, and I don’t plan on moving against him, unless he strikes first or makes it impossible for me to overlook his actions.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course, because of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Ash… You are my nephew, my blood. You may not feel the same way about me, but that’s how I feel about you. I want you to know that, if things go wrong, for any reason, you can always turn to me. My home is your home.”

“What you are actually telling me is, Ash, if I kill the one person who has ever really cared about you - and it might definitely come to that - you can always grab my hand, still sticky and warm from his blood. Well, how nice of you. To quote Oscar Wilde again, true friends stab you in the front.”

“That’s not what I am-”

“Clary,” Ash interrupted as he stood. “Do not make me choose between you and him. Because…” Looking down at her, he swallowed hard, as if the words pained him. “Because you will lose.”

She knew exactly what he was telling her. Because they were the same in that way. Ruthless, even with their own blood, when it came to protecting their loved ones. If I had to choose between killing him and you, I would not hesitate. I would end you. Yet, despite his cold statement, despite his sharp and resolved tone, his eyes seemed to carry a deep regret.

“Ash, I understand what you're saying and I swear I am not trying to make you pick a side”, Clary said, suddenly desperate, as she mirrored him and stood. “Please don’t go. I am sorry I brought it up. We will stop talking about him. Starting now.”

“This was a bad idea. Never try to contact me again.” He drew his green beanie from the pocket of his coat and put it back on. He turned and strode toward the exit. She grabbed the family drawing that still lay on the table, stuffed it in her bag and followed him, half-running, as he was quickly losing here with his long legs.

“Ash! Please. Give me another chance. I am so sorry.”

He paused right outside the coffee shop, closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t be. It didn’t change what I had planned to tell you anyway. I don’t want to know anything about you or your mother. I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, and he whipped his head around to look at her in surprise. “I know you were under house arrest. You probably had to break out of whichever place they were holding you in to come here. You wouldn’t have done that unless you wanted something. Something from me. Tell me, Ash. Tell me what it is.”

He turned his face away so she could not see his expression. A full minute passed and she had almost given up on receiving an answer, when he finally spoke.

“My fa… Sebastian. How different do you think he would have been if not for the demon blood?”

“Oh. Ash.” she whispered. She brought her knuckle against her sternum instinctively, as if to cover the gaping whole in her chest. “I saw him, you know. The brother I should have had. The father that should have raised you. If only for a few minutes.” She paused to bite back tears. “In those few minutes, he told us how to get rid of the Endarkened and said he was sorry. It’s not much to go for, but… that’s not all. I have recurring dreams of the green eyed boy that was robbed from us. And I know in my heart he would have been the best brother a sister could ever dream of.”

He was still looking away and she could see the sharp line, the stubborn set of his jaw. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she would not fail him again. That they could mourn her brother, his father, together. That he didn’t need to bear the anger at everything that was wasted alone.

He finally turned to look at her. A tear had escaped to run freely down his cheek. He had completely shed off his mask, and what Clary saw was like a stab in her gut. She shivered. Wordlessly, he reached for his deep green scarf and tied it gingerly around her neck. The way Sebastian had when they had walked down the streets of Paris. Ash looked nothing like her brother had then. His green eyes held an infinite sadness that spoke of a grief deeper, older than the short years of his life.

“It doesn’t change anything.” He said - she hadn’t imagined his beautiful voice could sound so hollow - and turned to leave.

“Ash, wait.” She grabbed him by the elbow and he froze. His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed on the fingers covering his coat, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She realized she had never touched him before.

“Clary, what do you want from me?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I am not the brother who was stolen from you. I cannot replace him. If anything, I am just like Sebastian was before me... my father’s broken toy. There is no way to fix me.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, almost frantic. “And I don’t want to find my brother's replacement, I want to get to know you! Ash. The real Ash.”

“I already told you. That’s not happening. Don’t ever try to contact me again. I am serious.”

“So that’s it?” She tried not to sound too whiny but panic was eating away at her stomach and she thought she would throw up. “You went through all this trouble spying on me, learning how I take my coffee to simply disappear from my life from one moment to the next?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unfathomable. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“I was not spying on you, Clary. I was merely following your stalker.”

“What? You were… protecting me?”

“Take care of yourself, Clary.”

He said as he stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

****

Clary threw herself in Jace’s arms as soon as he opened the door to their bedroom at the New York Institute. He froze, then started stroking her hair in a soothing gesture.

“Clary, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Tell me, Clary. What is it?”

She pulled away and wiped tears with the back of her hand. Jace’s face was a mask of shock. Clary couldn’t blame him. She almost never cried.

“I messed up.”

“What did you mess up?”

She walked to the bed and sat on the mattress. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. “Ash. I met up with him earlier today.”

Jace tensed and his hands clenched into fists. “WHAT- Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have insisted on coming.”

“Damn right, I would have. And I would have been right, too. Look at you, you look miserable.”

“It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice. “I pushed him too far.”

Jace sighed and came to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I am sure you did nothing wrong, Clary.”

“I thought- When I showed him the drawing… the way he looked at it, Jace. He is not indifferent. He cares.”

“What drawing?”

“The one I made of the family,” she said absently, as she grabbed her bag and started fumbling inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The drawing wasn’t there. Peeking out in its stead, and folded out of the flyer of the Mortal Instruments concert, were origami faerie wings. The Fairchild family symbol.

54 notes · View notes

luxekook · 5 years

Text

stay in your lane | jjk

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader ⇥ genre: e2l / college au / smut / fluff / crack ⇥ summary: in which the reader is the captain of the women’s swim team and jungkook is the “golden freshman” of the men’s swim team... OR in which jungkook is overtly whipped for the reader and acts out in any way possible to gain her love and attention - no matter the consequence. ⇥ word count: 5.8k ⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, Vine references, dirty talk, sub!jk, dom!reader, jungkook being the biggest brat, swimming lingo, college athlete party, drinking, body shots, noona kink™, smut (edging/orgasm denial, face sitting, oral [m + f receiving], unprotected sex [wrap it, plz], spitting, cum eating [i am sorry skksks])

In all your twenty-two years of living, you never encountered anyone as openly cocky as Jeon Jungkook. You stared in disbelief as the boy posed and preened from his lane of the pool, throwing his fist in the air and flexing his muscles.

“He is such a hoe for attention,” Your teammate Lina said, shaking her head next to you and reluctantly clapping along with the crowd gathered for the Regional Swimming and Diving Championships.

You nodded in agreement, plastering a fake smile on your face as you forced your hands to clap. As the captain of your college’s women’s swim team, you had to keep up appearances after all. You cheered for everyone - regardless of how infuriating they might be.

When you were appointed as captain this past fall, you were fucking thrilled.

Leadership came naturally to you, and it always felt good when it was recognized by others. For you, being a leader meant being a bad bitch - powerful, fearless, intimidated by no one.

And a bad bitch you were. You liked to quietly dominate in pretty much all facets of your life. You aced your studies, you broke records, you fucked hard.

But this year, your fucking senior year, you were consistently being pressed, your dominance constantly being questioned, your restraint wearing thin.

And it was all Jungkook’s fault.

It all started at the beginning of the swim season... You had been talking to Kim Seokjin - the captain of the men’s team - before the very first practice. You had been glad the fellow senior was chosen, not only because he was a solid swimmer, but because he was supportive and such a laugh.

The two of you had been going over your competition schedules when a boy you hadn’t seen before had bounded up to Seokjin. “Jin-hyung! There you are. I thought I was running late, but it turns out I’m just really early.” You had blinked at the energetic boy who’d been way too excited for the 6 AM hour. He had felt your stare, looked at you, and continued, “Oh, hello. I’m Jungkook! Are you a freshman, too?”

Seokjin had stifled a laugh, and, for his sake, you had hoped it was at this Jungkook’s expense. “No,” You had glared up at him, ignoring his outstretched palm, “I’m a senior and the fucking captain of the women’s team.”

The freshman had turned bright red before smiling at you with renewed vigor, “So, you’re my noona then?”

“I prefer (y/n),” Your teeth had gritted together as your hands fell to your hips.

“Jungkookie…” Seokjin must have seen something on the younger boy’s face and had tried to prevent him from speaking again. It had been no use.

Jungkook had stared down at you with stars in his eyes as he announced, “I think I prefer you, too.”

And it had been precisely at that moment you knew that someday in the near or distant future you would enjoy disciplining that boy. Thoroughly.

Now, as if he felt your attention on him, Jungkook faced the direction where your team was gathered and locked eyes with you. His smile grew infinitesimally larger, and he blew you an exaggerated kiss with a wink. Your jaw clenched. It looked like you were going to need to have yet another talk with Seokjin about teaching Jungkook his fuckboy mannerisms.

Finally, the next event began to be announced, and Jungkook hopped out of the pool. You tried to turn your attention away from him, but you couldn’t. Not when he looked like he had been sculpted by the gods and had drops of water cascading down his tanned skin.

The proclaimed “golden freshman” strutted back towards your team area. His abs moved with each step, his muscled chest heaved for breath, his tight swim suit gripped his thighs and his crotch - basically leaving little to the imagination.

You stared at him with raised eyebrows as he approached, grinning at you and running a hand through his wet hair to slick it back out of his face.

Jungkook stopped in front of you and Lina, dangling his goggles from one long finger and swinging them in your face. “Did you see me win, noona?”

[That little shit.]

You swallowed your instinct to reply with a scathing remark. Instead, you remained cool as ice, just as you always did when Jungkook demanded your attention. It was your foolproof method for dealing with brats. “You know I did, Jeon. I have to watch everyone. That’s what good captains do.”

“Ah, that’s right. Captain noona…” His grin returned as you stared (READ: glared) up at him, “Always cheering me on and watching me win.”

“God, carrying that giant ego around must be exhausting,” Lina cocked her head and frowned at the younger boy.

“Are you talking about my dick?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion, “I mean, I guess it is pretty big. Maybe noona could help me carry it...”

You saw red; and, for the first time since meeting him, your perfect control snapped. Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped his neck to lower him enough so your mouth lined up with his ear, “Listen, Jeon. You better watch that pretty little mouth of yours before I tie you up and gag you.”

You pulled back. Jungkook’s eyes were blown wide open, his cheeks stained pink, his ears bright red. “N-noona!”

Lina was cackling next to you over how flustered you made the typically overconfident boy. You allowed yourself a brief cheeky smile at your friend before returning to a straight face. You needed to go get ready for your next race.

You had been trying all season to break your personal best time in the 100 meter butterfly, and you had a good feeling that you might just accomplish that today.

“I’m going to go warm-up,” You told Lina, grabbing your swim cap and goggles from your bag.

“Good luck, (y/n)!” Lina slapped you a high-five, “You got this. You are a legend. A queen!”

“A goddess!” Jungkook chimed in, peering at you from over Lina’s shoulder with heart eyes.

“Kook,” Seokjin swooped in and tugged the boy away from you, “Not the time. (Y/n) needs to focus! Good luck, babe!”

You gave the other captain a thumbs-up and headed down onto the pool deck. Faintly from the stands behind you, you heard Jungkook whining on about how Seokjin was allowed to call you ‘babe’ but he wasn’t.

Pushing that aside, you hopped into the designated warm-up/cool-down pool that was adjacent to the competition pool and proceeded to loosen up before your race.

Visualize the victory.

Take down the competition.

Leave nothing behind.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself hovering over the starting block, awaiting the starter. The natatorium was silent. You sucked in a breath and dove into the pool at the sound of the starting buzz.

Your body felt like it was on autopilot. Kick, kick, pull. Kick, kick, pull. Each time you took a breathe you could hear a split second of the roaring crowd. You pushed yourself faster.

Two laps turned into three as you sprinted. You didn’t dare check on your competition; those would be precious milliseconds wasted. And, as you swam your final lap, you didn’t even dare to breathe, swimming your hardest right until you hit the wall.

Gasping, you clutched the wall and swung around to look at your time.

00:51.34

Your best fucking time.

You felt like crying, laughing, and screaming all at once. As you shook hands with the girls to your right and left, you smiled hugely up at your cheering teammates. They had known how much you wanted this - needed this.

The next race began to be announced, and you hauled your tired self out of the pool. Immediately, you were swept into a tight hug by your coach followed by what felt like your whole entire team. Your cheeks honestly hurt from smiling so hard.

As you thanked your last teammate, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Noona?”

You had never heard Jungkook sound so tiny; and, when you turned around, you didn’t stop him from hugging you.

“You did so good,” He mumbled, head burrowed into your wet hair. “My noona is so fucking good.”

You melted at his words. It had been so long since someone had called you ‘theirs’. And, so, you blamed your post-adrenaline spike exhaustion for your following actions.

Your arms slid around him, tugging him closer. You felt every ridge of his hard body - separated only by the thin swimsuits you each wore. Your nipples brushed his chest, and you honestly didn’t know if the moan that followed was from you or from Jungkook.

You whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.” Calling him by his first name was a rarity for you, and the muffled hum from the boy wrapped around you let you know it was well received.

And, when you pulled away from him, you made sure to run your hands over his chest along the way.

[That one had been on your bucket list, okay?]

Still so close to you, Jungkook stared at you with an unreadable expression. “Noona, are you coming over tonight?”

The men’s team always hosted the post-meet party at their house, and that was fine with you and your team. It meant no mess and lots of free alcohol.

“Yeah,” You pulled your wet hair over your shoulder, “I’ll be there. Post-Regionals is always so fun.”

“Well,” Jungkook puffed out his chest, “This year will be even more fun since I’ll be there!”

Ah, there he was - Cocky Jungkook™.

“You promise?” You smirked, tossing you hair over your shoulder as you moved past him, “After all, this is the only one you’ll get with me, Jeon.”

You didn’t look back at him as you made your way back to your team area.

But, if you had, you would have seen him staring intently at you with determination.

The challenge you had half-knowingly thrown down had been accepted.

Hours later, you and your teammates were decidedly tipsy from pre-gaming.

“Okay, we should get going,” You said, checking your phone, “Jin said - and I quote - the boys are going to start rioting if we don’t get our sweet asses over there.”

“I bet he’s talking about Jungkook,” One of your teammates giggled, “That kid’s been trying to get with (y/n) this whole year.”

“That’s so true,” Lina threw her arm over your shoulder, “You might as well just fuck him and put us all out of our misery. We know you want to.”

You scoffed, pushing her arm off of you, “I will not be fucking anyone.”

“That’s what you said last year,” Lina fired back.

“Wait, what happened last year?” One of the freshman whispered.

You sighed, “Two words. Lim Jaebeom.”

A collective hum of appreciation and understanding rose from the group at the mention of the now-graduated swimmer.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, answering it. “Seokjin, for the love of god, we’re coming!”

“(Y/n)!” Seokjin yelled at you through the cries of what sounded like an angry mob, “My death will be on your hands if you don’t show up within the next minute!”

“You’re so fucking dramatic, Kim,” You hung up on him. Every fucking year the men’s team did this. You swore they couldn’t entertain themselves without you and your team.

“Come on,” You marched to the door, “Time to go ruin some boys.” With that, the lot of you walked across the street to the men’s team’s house.

[Yes, they literally lived right across the street. Seokjin was the king of drama.]

Not even bothering to knock, you swung open the door.

“What the fuck is up, Kyle!” Lina announced your presence for you as she hurried past, “Your better halves have arrived.”

“Oh, thank god!” Seokjin appeared by your side, clutching his chest, “My life is saved at last.”

You playfully shoved him, “Shut up, Kim. Now, where are the drinks?”

“Allow me to guide you to them, my queen,” Seokjin grabbed your hand and tugged you over towards the crowded kitchen.

You let him lead you, greeting members of the men’s team as you passed by them. Your pesky little freshman was nowhere in sight.

“Captains coming through!” Jin screeched, “Part the seas!”

You shook your head in disbelief at his antics, laughing as people actually seemed to be listening to the chaotic boy.

“See what authority we have when we’re together, babe? We could totally be a power couple,” Jin grinned at you as you finally arrived by the drinks scattered across the kitchen counter.

You weren’t going to lie, Seokjin was hot. You knew it. He knew it. The pope knew it.

But, you had done the whole alpha male thing. It was fun, but just not for you. No, you wanted someone a bit more submissive. Someone who you could gently break and build back up again. Someone like—

“Jungkook!” Jin cried, almost bursting your eardrum, “Come take a shot with your captains!”

Busying yourself with pouring shots for the three of you, you felt Jungkook arrive before you saw him. The warmth of his body seeped into you as he appeared by your side.

“Hi, noona,” He greeted you, his arm nudging yours. You turned, taking in his ripped jeans and loose black shirt before meeting his eyes.

“Hi, Jeon,” You shot him a small smile. He looked really fucking good tonight. His hair was long and messy, like he had been running his hands through it constantly. His cheeks were flushed, and you wondered how much he had to drink before you arrived.

“Yes, yes, you have now exchanged greetings. Let’s move on,” Seokjin grabbed one of the shots you poured and hoisted it into the air, “To the best captains you’ve ever had!”

You threw your head back and laughed as you played along, lifting your glass in the air beside Jin. You felt Jungkook looking at you as if he’d never seen you act so carefree. And maybe he hadn’t.

The room echoed Seokjin’s declaration, and you took the shot, feeling the tequila burn down your throat as you locked eyes with Jungkook yet again. Heat settled deep in your stomach that you fucking knew was not from the alcohol you just consumed.

Jungkook’s lips were wet from the tequila, and your tongue subconsciously darted out to lick your own. His eyes latched onto the movement before looking back at you under heavy lids. “Noona…” The honorific came out like a plea, but you didn’t even think he knew what he was asking for.

“(Y/n)!” One of your teammates called to you from across the room, “Play King’s Cup with us!” You shot her a thumbs up. Fixing yourself a drink, you gave the now pouting Jungkook a lazy smile, “Talk to you later?”

You squeezed his arm briefly; and, as you sauntered away, you felt his eyes glued to your ass. And, naturally, you made sure to put a nice swing into it. God, were you actually going to do this? Were you actually considering fucking him tonight?

[Yes.]

You cursed Lina for putting the idea into the front of your mind. You cursed yourself for having that very same idea since the very second you met him. And you cursed the boy himself for being so outwardly arrogant but so sinfully submissive.

[Or at least you hoped he was a sub. God, how you hoped.]

You greeted the group gathered around the coffee table for King’s Cup and plopped yourself down between Park Jimin and Lina. Jimin smiled at you, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks pink. “Hi, (y/n)! I’m surprised Jungkook let you leave his side.”

Your eyebrows flew up, “And what makes you think I let Jungkook dictate my actions?”

Jimin gulped, eyes searching around the group for assistance and coming up empty handed. No one wanted to deal with your wrath. “I- I thought you were getting together?”

Lina let out a low whistle, “Jimin, you’re just a little too early, my dude. (Y/n), give the poor kid a break. Let’s play some King’s!”

Jimin let out a sigh of relief as the matter was dropped. “Sorry, (y/n). Geez, you’re scary when you’re mad, but also kind of hot.”

His admission cracked you up, and you pinched his blushing cheek, “Jimin, you’re too cute. Don’t even worry about it.”

Two boys turned bright red at your actions: Jimin from embarrassment and Jungkook from jealousy.

You didn’t even know how many rounds of the game you played before someone suggested playing something else. You had a pretty nice buzz going, leaning on Jimin’s arm and laughing at a joke Lina told.

“I’ve got it!” Kim Taehyung snapped his fingers, grinning manically, “Body shots!”

Chaos ensued. It seemed half the group was down, and half the group was against it.

You knew Lina had the fattest crush on Tae, and so you reluctantly joined the side in agreement. She shot you a grateful look.

“Let’s fucking do it,” You got to your feet, “Jin, do you have salt and limes?”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” He cried, running over to the kitchen and pulling random ingredients off of shelves. “We have salt, limes, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, cherries, sugar, orange juice, pickle juice, pepper—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” You slapped a hand over his mouth, “Tequila, salt, and limes should be okay. God, were you really just about to offer pepper? As in the fucking spice?”

“Yes,” His muffled response came from behind your hand.

“You’re something else, Kim Seokjin,” You muttered before turning back to the group. “Alright, who’s going first?”

“We wrote everyone’s names down, and we’re going to take turns picking,” Lina said, thrusting a hat in your direction that was full of slips of paper.

“No one else wants to go first?” You looked around the room suspiciously and then shrugged, “Alright, fine.”

You dipped your hand into the pile of papers and selected one. Opening it, your breath escaped you in a whoosh, “Jeon Jungkook.”

The room erupted into cheers.

“Fuck yeah! Get it, Jeon!”

“Oh, this is going to be hot!”

“Yas queen! That’s my mom right there!”

You threw the slip of paper at Lina as she screamed that last remark at you.

Searching the room for Jungkook, you found him lounging by the empty couch against the far wall waiting for you with a shit-eating grin. Did the boy think he was going to be taking the shot off of you?

[Oh, how foolish.]

You approached him, grabbing the bottle of tequila, a shot glass, the salt, and a slice of lime from Jin on your way over. Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t allow him the chance, “Shirt off, Jeon.”

Whistles broke out as Jungkook froze, looking confused for a second, and then he tugged his shirt over his head. You praised your decision-making skills. His body deserved to be worshipped with your tongue. It was only right and just.

“Now what, noona?” The boy grinned, crossing his arms across his chest. A move you knew he only did because it made his biceps flex.

“Lay down,” You tilted your head, indicating he should get down on the couch, “And shut up.”

Jungkook’s eyes heated at your words. He obeyed, laying down just like you asked. However, he brought his arms up and clasped his hands behind his head. The fucking brat knew what he was doing.

You would punish him accordingly.

Your finger brushed over his lips before pushing the slice of lime between them. “Hold that for me, would you?” You murmured, hitching one leg over his body and settling firmly on his lap.

Assessing where to put the shot, you decided—fuck it—and placed it right between his legs.

Vaguely, you heard the people surrounding you yelling and screaming, but you were only focused on Jungkook and how round his eyes were as they stared at your hand holding the shot glass steady, dangerously close to his crotch.

Suppressing a smile, you poured a trail of salt down the middle of his abs. Finally unleashing your evil grin, you lean close to him with your hair blocking your face from the audience, “You ready, baby boy?”

He nodded furiously.

You flicked your hair over your shoulder and slowly lowered yourself over his stomach. Keeping your eyes on his, you swiped your tongue teasingly over your bottom lip. Jungkook’s chest was heaving, his abs were tensing, his eyes were hooded.

You licked slowly down his stomach, tasting the salt and him all at once. His skin was burning under your tongue as you delved into each groove of his abs, making sure no salt was left behind. Satisfied you had gotten all of it, you shifted lower still, ghosting over the now growing bulge in his jeans to hover over the shot.

Wrapping your lips around the glass, you tilted your head back as you straightened into a sitting position. The liquid coursed down your throat, but you barely felt the burn this time. You moved up, settling right on his hardening cock, and sucked the lime from his mouth.

Jungkook let out a breathy moan as you threw the lime’s peel somewhere over your shoulder, ignoring the indignant cry in response from Jin.

You kissed him, his lips sticky with lime juice and oh so delicious. His hands finally moved from behind his head to grip your hips. You didn’t even realize you were grinding into him until his hands tried to hold you still.

[Sorry, not sorry.]

Sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, you tugged on it before releasing it to place another soft kiss on his mouth.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin’s loud voice broke through your daze, “No fornicating on my couch, please!”

“So, if we were married, we could fuck on it? Is that what you’re saying?” You pulled away from Jungkook’s mouth and laughed at Jin’s gobsmacked expression.

“Yah, so disrespectful!” He yanked you off of Jungkook and set you on your feet, “Okay, who’s next? Tae and Lina? Me and Jiminie?”

You shook your head at your fellow captain and turned back to Jungkook; but, you found the couch empty. Whipping around to look for him, you noticed one of your teammates gesturing towards the stairs. You shot them a thankful glance and darted in the direction the boy apparently disappeared in.

“Jeon?” You called as you reached the top of the staircase. Failing to hear a response, you moved down the hallway. Your eyes and ears strained for any sign of him.

Finally, your gaze focused on the closed door at the far end of the hall. A soft light emitted from the bottom of it; and, as you crept closer, you heard Jungkook cursing on the other side of it.

You knocked once. “Jeon? What are you do—” Your words died in your throat as you threw open the door and laid eyes on a very naked and very turned on Jungkook.

“Noona, I can explain!” He jumped out of his bed, fumbling around for his pants.

You calmly shut the door and locked it behind you.

“Shh, baby,” You whispered, crossing the room and stopping in front of him. “You don’t have to explain. It made you hard, didn’t it? Having me on top of you, licking your skin, kissing your lips… You just couldn’t help yourself, hmm?”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed, “Y-yes. I’m so hard it hurts. Noona, please touch me.”

“I can see that,” You glanced down at his cock. It was admittedly big, and it reminded you of what he had said earlier about you holding it for him. “Jungkook, I want to make you feel good, but you’ve been such a brat to me this whole year. Why should I?”

You turned and began to walk to the door. As predicted, Jungkook rushed around you to block the exit, “Please, (Y/n)! I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stop bugging you. I’ll return the swim cap I stole from your bag...”

[That was him? You looked for that cap for weeks!]

He continued, “I’ll stop trying to get your attention! I’ll—”

You grabbed his cock - a truly effective method to shut him up. “You’ll be good for me, baby?” Your thumb brushed across his slit, collecting the drop of precum gathered there. Bringing your thumb to your mouth, you licked the droplet off, savoring the salty taste.

He let out a strangled groan as you did so. “Fuck yes, I’ll be good for you. I’ll be your good boy.”

“You know,” Your hand returned to stroke his cock slowly, before dropping it, “I don’t think I believe you.”

“No!” Jungkook looked close to tears as he tried to bring your hand back, “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” You sunk to your knees before him, “You’ll do anything, Kookie?”

He shuddered, “Yeah, I’m yours. I’ll do anything as long as you ask me.”

“Really?” You cooed, running your fingers up his toned calves and quads, “I like that the sound of that, baby. Okay, fine. But you can’t come until I say so, got it?”

After seeing him nod vigorously, you spit on the head of his cock and use your hand to spread the combination of spit and precum around.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, leaning against the door, “Noona is so dirty.”

“Oh, baby,” You grinned, “You have no idea.”

And, with that, you took the head of his cock into your mouth and sucked.

Jungkook let out a choked groan, his fingers sliding into your hair.

You took him as far as you could and then swallowed around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” He chanted above you. You glanced up at him and hummed in amusement at his fucked out expression, and the stimulation from your humming only made him squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

You released him with a pop. “Jungkook, look at me when I suck your cock.”

“Y-yes, noona,” The boy blinked his eyes open and angled his head down to meet your eyes.

“Good boy,” You nodded and then licked up the underside of his cock before taking him back into your mouth.

You blew him hard, stroking the parts of his cock you couldn’t fit entirely in your mouth. Your mouth bobbed, your hands grabbed his ass, your tongue swiped over him.

“Please, please, noona, I’m so close,” he begged, looking down at you with wide eyes and a pleading expression, “Please let me come, (y/n)!”

You glared up at him, releasing him once again, “No.”

“What? Why?” Jungkook gasped above me, his breath coming in pants, “Please, can I come in your mouth?”

“No,” You repeated, your hand stroking him loosely. He whined, his hips straining to try to get you to grip him tighter.

You dropped your hold and stood, heading over to his bed.

“Nooo! Noona!” The brat moaned from behind you. You glanced back and scowled as you saw him clutching his cock in his hands.

“Jungkook, if you don’t get your hands off your cock in the next second, I won’t let you touch me.”

He dropped his cock like a hot potato. “I can touch you?” His eyes shone at the possibility.

You rolled your eyes and tugged your t-shirt dress over your head.

“Damn, noona, you’re so sexy,” Jungkook reached out to grab your waist but you smacked his hand away.

“Lay down on the bed, Kook,” You ordered, unclasping your bra and shimmying out of your thong, “I’m going to ride your face, and you’re going to make me come.”

“Hell yeah,” The idiot launched himself onto the bed and flipped over onto his back, “I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.”

You pinched his nipple and he yelped. “You’re such a dweeb,” You sighed, getting into position on top of him. He grinned up at you from in between your thighs.

“I think I’m in heaven,” He said, flicking his eyes across your body and staring hungrily at your pussy.

“Hm,” You shrugged and lowered yourself down just out of reach of his tongue, “I don’t know about that, but I do know that if you make me come hard enough, I’ll reward you.”

With that, you sunk down onto his face. His tongue immediately delved into you, flicking and lathering between your folds. His hands flew up to grip your ass, pushing you harder down onto his face.

[Fuck, you had never been more thankful for swimming and its conditioning. Amazing breath control? Check. Incredible stamina? Double check.]

You arched your back as Jungkook circled your aching clit. “That’s it, baby,” You moaned, reaching down to roll your hardened nipples between your fingers, “You’re doing so well. You’re making me feel so good.”

His pace quickened at the sound of your praises, his tongue thrust inside you, his nose rubbed at your clit. You felt the pleasure building and building. “Yes, Jungkook, don’t stop,” You looked down at him and his eyes were so dilated. He was looking back at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

And it was that look that pushed you over the edge. You came with a scream, your legs giving out from under you and your full weight falling on Jungkook. The boy took it, tongue unceasing in its movements, lapping up every last drop you have him.

As you rode out the last of your orgasm, you lifted yourself off of Jungkook and stood.

“I’m sorry, noona,” Jungkook said, breathing hard.

“What for, baby?” Your cocked your head, confused as to what he could possibly be sorry for after making you come so hard.

The poor boy blushed furiously. You glanced over him and quickly realized the problem.

“You came on yourself?” You murmured, stroking your hand through his hair as he gazed up at you regretfully.

He nodded, lower lip jutting out in a cute pout.

“You know,” You said, rounding the bed and settling in between his legs. “Usually I would punish you for this, but I think it’s really fucking hot that you came just from eating me out, baby. I’m just sad you didn’t come in my mouth or my pussy.”

You swiped your finger across the cum gathered on across his abs and sucked it into your mouth.

“I can still come inside you, noona!” Jungkook rocketed up into a sitting position, “Look, I’m already hard again! That’s the effect you have on me!”

You looked down and, sure enough, he was right.

“What a lovely surprise,” You murmured, “Now, should I let you have my mouth or my pussy?”

“I would die for your pussy, noona,” Jungkook said gravely.

“Always so dramatic…” You pushed him back down and lined his cock up with your pussy.

He bit his lip, watching entranced as you pushed the very tip of his cock inside you. A choked breath burst out of Jungkook as you sunk down lower.

“Noona, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so fucking good,” His hands clenched on your thighs as you took him to the hilt and rolled your hips. Damn, he filled you up so nicely. Your walls clenched tightly around him, every shift of your hips brought delicious friction.

“Move, noona, please,” He begged, “Fuck me.”

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down, reveling in the moan he let out in response.

“Play with my nipples, Kook,” You panted, beginning to ride him hard.

Jungkook grabbed your ass and shifted backwards. Sitting with his back against the headboard, his mouth descended onto one of your nipples.

“Oh, yes, that’s it, baby,” You moaned, grinding down onto him as he bit down lightly.

“You’re so fucking hot, noona,” Jungkook groaned, “And your pussy feels so fucking good. I always knew it would though…”

You gripped his hair and tugged hard, “Don’t make me follow through with my gag idea.”

You felt his cock twitch, “Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” He lied.

You brought two fingers to his mouth, “Suck.”

His eyes widened at your command, but his mouth opened obediently. You shoved your fingers inside. Quickening your pace, you bounced on his cock as he sucked on your fingers, moaning around them. You brought your other hand down to play with your clit as you felt your second orgasm rising.

“Are you going to come, Kook?” You panted, clenching down around him, “Are you going to fill me up? Are you going to paint my walls with your cum?”

He nodded furiously, still lapping at your fingers. His hips bucked up into yours, and you clenched down one last time before pinching your clit.

The onset of your climax set off Jungkook’s as he came hard. You tugged your fingers out of his mouth as the boy cursed and cried your name over and over.

The warmth of him filling you up felt so fucking good. “You’re such a good boy, baby. You’re my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” He smiled with his eyes still shut, “I’m noona’s good boy.”

Suddenly his eyes shot open and he frowned, “But for how long?”

“What, baby?” You shifted off of him to lay down at his side.

“How long am I going to be your baby?” His pout from earlier had returned with epic proportions, “Don’t think I didn’t see you earlier getting close with Jimin-hyung downstairs. And I know you let Jin-hyung call you ‘babe’! And—”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. “Shut up, you idiot,” You said, lips brushing over his, “You’re mine for as long as you want me and for as long as I want you.”

His pout remained, “But what if Jaebeom-hyung comes back?”

“How do you even— I’m going to kill Jin,” You growled before bringing your hand up to brush over Jungkook’s cheek. “Jungkook, listen to me. Yes, you’ve been a nuisance this whole season, but I always knew you did it because you liked me.”

You grinned at his blush and continued, “Well, guess what? I like you, too. God only knows why. You’re cocky and brash and loud and—mmmf!”

Jungkook flipped you over and attacked your mouth with kisses. “Noona, you like me?”

“Yes,” You groaned, shifting your face to try to avoid some of his affection, “I like you, you big brute of a baby.”

“Oh, this is so exciting! I’m going to have to plan the most perfect first date. Oh my god, we are totally going be that Swim Power Couple™. Holy shit, wait! Just think about how good our kids are going to be! We’re going to make a whole team of Olympians, noona!”

“Jeon Jungkook!” You screamed, “Kids?! Good god, what am I going to do with you?”

He smiled down at you and kissed your cheek, “Keep me forever, I hope, noona.”

You smiled back at him softly, “I think I just might…”

3K notes · View notes

wrctings · 3 years

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Jean Kirschtein x reader | Friends, or is it more?

the more i watch aot, the more i love jean... his moments of self-doubt and his moved smile truly are heart-wrenching 🥺

fandom: Attack on Titan pairing: Jean Kirschtein x reader summary: Where you realise that you’re falling for your best friend, whose heart is already taken—or so you thought. Fortunately, what becomes a saddening party can also turn into an unexpected occasion to make things right. word count: 3.3k

Sometimes, belonging to the Scouts regiment came with something that, from up close, resembled a flicker of momentary joy. You had, of course, been aware of the harrowing shadow of a reputation that trudged behind the wings of liberty: danger, death and despair; the three Ds accompanying your pledge to humanity drummed their deafening beat alongside your horse's frenzied gallop whenever you took place in the formation that led you outside the walls, the wind hurling through your hair and your senses at the height of their tension, ready to signal the approach of a titan at any given minute, bracing your body for every possible threat. You had faith in commander Erwin, had faith in your comrades—if giving your life was necessary for your cause, then, you had silently promised yourself and your people, you would give it with eyes wide open and undefeated fierceness, be it in the heat of battle or any other way. The wings embroidered upon your cape represented your beliefs more intensely than any word—as long as there was a Scout left, hope would live still; blossom upon the tall grass that freely grew upon the tombs of your fallen comrades. Even the smallest victory made you believe that a change could be made—and even the smallest victory was celebrated in the battalion as a sign that bode well for the foreseeable future. It was such celebrations, though as small as the victories they marked, that made room for moments of joy the regiment could barely encounter at other times. And when those moments came, life suddenly appeared coated with a hundred colours, full of humorous idiocies and heedless amusement that stirred up in you all the youthful glee of not caring about a thing in the world but the people around you and the drink in your hand.

"You guys won't believe the position we found Bertholdt in this morning!"

Seated beside Armin, who himself flanked Eren as Mikasa had naturally settled on the other side of their childhood friend, you leaned further on the wooden table of the barrack in order to hear your brunet friend more distinctly, his excited voice reviving the conversation at once. Drawn by a cheerful and carefree sort of curiosity, which was well fueled by the general bright mood, finding out about Bertholdt's daily sleeping position suddenly appeared like the most fascinating event one could discuss, especially when followed by the boys' weather previsions based on their comrade's often strange and tangled up poses. You exchanged an amused look with Mikasa, and though your friend's features remained almost as impassive as usual, the vivid twinkle you caught through the dark shine of her eyes mirrored your cheery behaviour; Armin's face, on the other hand, wore an expressive smile, the blond boy remembering vividly the description of Bertholdt that Eren began recounting.

But even as you laughed at the image of Bertholdt's knees somehow managing to stay bent as he slept on his stomach, the upper part of his legs outstretched toward the sky in an unusual—to say the least—position, your gaze went on sweeping the room, in search of the one person you couldn't wait to chat with again, though you also got along really well with Armin, Mikasa and Eren. The only problem was, said person was not that fond of the self-righteous brunet ball of energy sat at your table, so you were not surprised to find him in Conny and Sasha's company instead, talking animatedly. You had already had the opportunity to chat with Jean earlier that evening, the two of you having grown so close to each other that it would've been impossible for you not to cross paths tonight, but you wondered whether you would drift toward each other again before the makeshift party came to an end; Captain Levi had been surprisingly unbothered by your shy request to celebrate today's mission's success, accepting it on the sole condition that only soft drinks were to be consumed—Armin suspected that Commander Erwin was responsible for granting the new recruits' wishes, as they had after all already endured quite a lot during the expedition to retrieve Eren from Annie.

"We better watch out for that sleeping position of Bertholdt's, maybe it means good luck," Armin observed lightheartedly, taking a sip from his drink.

"You should keep a notebook with all of them, and maybe you'll crack the code someday," you added with a chuckle, the three of you glancing at Bertholdt.

Having your 104th comrades with you in the Scouts regiment really did bring you a lot of comfort to help you navigate these new uncharted waters, though it also made it acutely unbearable to imagine that some of them might not make it back next time; Marco served as your first and most painful lesson that even those dearest to you were never safe. It was after the freckled boy's death that you and Jean had truly bonded, brought together by the devastating loss of your kindhearted friend. You had become each other's rocks since then—checking up on each other after training sessions and expeditions, playful teasing and calling each other all sorts of funny nicknames rooted into the core of your friendship, giving it all its strength. And it was when you had been injured during the 57th expedition and Jean had almost hysterically ran up to you afterwards, cursing with no restraint and holding your arm so tightly it hurt when he helped you limp toward the medical wing, that you had been hit for the first time, though still shaken from slaying a titan and the bloody cut burning your leg, by how grateful you were to have made it out alive, to have Jean by your side. It was then that you had realised that there was no one else you would rather be with than him—it was something more than anything you've ever felt before, as your timidly pounding heart had been reminding you ever since.

But another thing unavoidable when being friends with Jean, of course, was the bickering between your comrade and Eren—and this evening was no different from any other week. A few minutes later, as you engaged in a pleasant conversation with Armin, your attention was drawn by the thunderous eruption of voices that suddenly shook the walls of the barrack, making many pairs of surprised eyes turn toward the belligerent protagonists of the argument. It just had to be Eren and Jean, hadn't it? Like the rest of your comrades, you couldn't possibly guess where the spark that ignited this new inferno came from, but with these two, a valid reason often wasn't needed; to the greatest despair of the 104th, both boys possessed magic powers to summon reasons to fight out of thin air. At the present moment, both Eren and Jean were actively yelling at each other, shooting names and accusations back and forth.

However, the lack of rational incidents to cause such a scene didn't mean that there was no deeper reason for Jean's outbursts, just like Eren's counter-attacks originated from his legendary stubbornness already well-known to his fellow comrades. You had been suspecting for a long time that Jean mainly proclaimed his hatred towards Eren because of Mikasa. Before the 57th expedition, when both of you were in a playful and mischievous mood, you would even friendlily tease Jean about his soft spot for the dark haired young woman, which he hadn't hidden very well ever since Mikasa and he met for the first time. It was quite unfortunately, really, that your heart had finally chosen Jean, of all people, to fall for—as if you weren't well aware of how much he admired and liked Mikasa! And this mascarade surely had to have been orchestrated to get her attention, just like many other failed schemes of Jean's, as Mikasa barely seemed interested in anyone but Eren, Armin, sometimes Sasha, and you.

"There he goes again..." You muttered downheartedly, sparing a glance at your best friend.

"It's Eren and Jean, after all..." Armin responded with a sorry smile, squirming on the bench to get further away from Eren, who was now up on his feet and facing Jean with balled up fists. Mikasa watched the two boys through squinted eyes, at the ready to jump and knock over Jean if needed—at least, your friend's plan to get her attention had succeeded.

"I know how this is going to end," you told Armin under your breath, averting your gaze from the fighters. "You know what, I think it's right about time for me to head off. I don't want to witness Captain Levi tearing their heads off for wrecking havoc in here."

"Really? Don't you want to stay a little longer? I'm sure it won't come to this!"

"I don't even want to know. Goodnight, Armin, thank you for the nice chat," you excused yourself, fleeing from the barrack swift as a cat, only the passage of a furtive ray of light on the floor signifying that the door to the room had been opened as quickly as it was closed.

You knew better than to cling onto something you could not reach, so why endure the spectacle of such a foolish play?

Outside, nighttime had descended upon the camp with its soothing quietness. Nothing in sight but the warm flutter of torches fixed upon the barracks; nothing ringing in your ears but the chirping melody of a cricket's song, its echo delicately carried away by the evening wind. No ecstatic shouting, no blaring laughter. Nothing but a lone constellation half-veiled by the grey trail of clouds that unhurriedly floated upon the dark depths of the sky. No Jean, no Eren. You took a lungful of fresh air before a long sigh lifted off your chest—if only things could go back to the way they had been. Back when Jean was nothing but a fun and (sweetly) annoying horse-faced boy to be around, and no cause for heartache.

You took some more steps ahead, the muffled sounds you could still hear from inside dying out as you walked further away. Although you had told Armin that your time to go had come, you didn't feel like getting back to bed right now; actually, you didn't feel like anything but escaping for a little while.

At last, you decided to retrace your steps, taking a seat on the ground beside the barrack you had abandoned, your back pressed against its wooden surface. On the other side, the cacophony hadn't ceased, only muffled by the wall that separated you from the inside mayhem. Had Jean and Eren opted for a fistfight denouement by now? Would Mikasa intervene?

But before you had enough time to explore the many scenarios your imagination could sketch out, the door beside which you had settled opened abruptly, a wide stream of light flooding the ground at once. In the blink of an eye, a visibly disconcerted figure appeared on the threshold, freezing as they took a look around before rapidly bifurcating to the side in order to follow one of the torchlit paths...

"Jean?"

"Y/n?! What are you doing here?" Jean rushed toward you as soon as he noticed your silhouette from behind the shadows, discovering your hiding-place. "I didn't even see you leave..."

"I'm sorry, I was starting to feel tired." Touched by the fact that Jean had left the room to look for you, you attempted to give him a plausible excuse.

"C'mon, you can get through a day of training, but you can't get through one of the only party nights we're lucky enough to have?" Jean taunted, taking a seat next to you. "What's the matter?" he gently elbowed you, throwing his neck back so he could press his head against the wall behind. "Just when I was about to defeat Eren..."

"Defeat Eren, really? Statistically, it's more likely for Captain Levi to smile than for us to see that happen," you laughed tiredly, trying not to think about how Jean would probably soon get back to Mikasa and the others.

"Yeah, yeah, tease me all you want, it'll happen. Someday this idiot will get his ass handed to him."

Closing your eyes, you only had it in you to maintain the forced smile painted over your lips while fighting back the rush of stinging tears that suddenly overwhelmed you. Why did Jean had to come and check up on you now of all times, right when you were more than ever convinced that you were starting to fall for him, and it couldn't be clearer that his every move longed for someone else?

"You know, I was going to get him, but Mikasa can get scary..." It was as if he could decipher the riddles of your mind, unaware of the way your heart convulsed. "I wouldn't want to cross her. Why would she hang out with this idi—"

"Look, Jean, if you've come here to rant about this, then you can leave," you ended up snapping, biting back more acre words . "I'm tired, okay? Just get back to the fun inside."

"You... You don't feel like talking?" Jean's voice softened from incomprehension, trying to read your tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that bad. Hey, you really don't want to talk?"

You shook your head in response, scolding your own self for such pathetic behaviour. Jean couldn't possibly know about your suppressed feelings, so your attitude must indeed appear more than confusing, especially since you were so used to confiding in each other and cheering each other up, for the past weeks more than ever. In the wake of Icarus's ascend towards the sun, untethered and naive, your wings of wax were melting... But who could've predicted, as much as a month earlier, that the loveable idiot by your side would doom you to downfall?

"Okay... Well...," the young man ran a distracted hand through his hair, frowning as his jaw clenched. "Then I'll talk. You know, I had an idea for tonight," he began after collecting his thoughts, breaking through the hesitant seconds that had temporarily numbed his tongue. "It was our first successful expedition after that near-death experience after all, so I thought I'd better make the most of it and make tonight's celebration useful. Who knows when we'll get another one. Maybe you're right and it's actually more likely to see Captain Levi smile than to get another one of these again soon." Jean's speech ran freely now, his torrent of sentences—for the moment still not making clear sense as to where they were headed to—submerging you in the familiar flow of his voice. As of late, your greatest fear had become to miss its distress call in the ranging mist of a battle, to watch Jean's body be torn to shreds as you could only scream until everything else vanished... "So I thought I'd be brave, for once." He took a deep breath in, fingers nervously wrapped around the back of his own neck. "There's this person I like."

There it was. Somehow, you knew that it would be coming—after the stunt he pulled earlier with Eren...

"They're much braver than I am, but they probably know that already," Jean went on, chuckling self-depreciatingly—he knew he could poke at himself in your company without being ashamed of disclosing his flaws. "They wouldn't hesitate to come and rescue me, even if I were grabbed by a titan. And they're really beautiful, too—"

"Look, Jean, if you've come to talk about Mikasa, just save it," you could only murmur. "Pl—"

"And, quite surprisingly, they're also a dumbass!" Jean didn't let you finish either, shifting his head so he could see your face better. "But that's something both of us have in common." Taken aback by such a strange confession, you opened your eyes to take an intrigued look at Jean while hoping that he wouldn't notice the tears you had at last blinked away. You met his gaze head-on, even among the shadows that coiled over his face. "Because they think that I still have a thing for a girl I liked for two weeks, while I've been talking about them all along."

"What—"

"You know, you're the one who makes being called "horse-face" the funniest," Jean cracked an unsure smile at you, fiddling with his hands. "Alright, it's the bravest I'll ever be, so time to crawl in a hole and die now," he immediately added more anxiously, looking like the unexpected nature of his confession had stricken him for the first time.

"Wait, Jean, no!" It was as if, for the first time in a span of unending minutes, you could breathe again. "Wait, is this... Is this for real?" You asked in what came out almost a whisper, fearing, in this instant where your hopes balanced on the edge of a precipice of churning doubt and elation, that this was a joke you would not be able to forgive. Jean was better than this, but what if?—the thought drilled into your heart.

"Well... Yes. I'm sorry if I've made things awkward, it's Armin who told you might like me too and—"

"Hey, hey," your hand found its way to Jean's arm in a comforting touch, preventing him from leaving as he made a move to flee after blurting out an apology. Judging by your frantic heartbeat, there was no way you could be the calmer person in this situation—and yet, Jean somehow managed to look even more distressed than you at the moment. "I do like you." It was your turn to get embarrassed, which your flushed cheeks openly betrayed, illuminated by the nearby torch's flitting flame. "But Mikasa...?"

"Y/n, I haven't liked Mikasa for longer than a few weeks. I mean, yes, she's beautiful and strong, but so are you. And you're so much more than that. You're so fun to be around, I haven't laughed so hard with anyone but you. Unlike me, you're not scared to be brave and kind, but with you, I don't need to think which face I need to put on, because I know we don't have to pretend to be someone we're not when we're around each other. And when you got injured... I couldn't stand the thought of losing you. I made myself a promise then that I would tell you, and tonight seemed like the right time. I've been talking to Armin after the expedition and I think he kind of guessed that I liked you, and that you liked me too—I don't even know how or why, but he told me he thought you did. That's not exactly how I thought it'd go but... Trying to get your attention by getting in a fight with Eren wasn't that good of a plan, I guess."

"So that's what it was...! You really are an idiot, Jean Kirschtein," you declared vivaciously, but the moved smile that brightened your face spoke louder than the fond insults Jean and you would fire at each other. "We need to watch out for Armin, he will uncover everyone's secrets, at this rate..." You joked before regaining a more serious attitude, your emotions truly swayed by your friend's avowal. "The expedition changed everything for me too. I realised that I didn't want to go without you. No, I realised that I didn't want to go at all—I wanted to stay. With you."

"Pff, get in line," Jean grinned in spite of the emotional look on his face, sighing in relief. "I've been liking you for months."

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely. Do you think I go out of my way to check up on everyone after a battle or that everyone's mom gets the privilege of being the centre of my skilfully crafted jokes?"

"Shut up," you laughed wholeheartedly, your shoulder against Jean's. "Your mom's a hoe."

"Very clever," he teased you in return, face glowing from a joy even more vivd than the fiery sparks that chased the night's spectres away. “I bang yours every night.”

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes—mom jokes were a must in your goofy friendship. A friendship that, with a bit of unpredicted luck, was on the verge of becoming something more.

#jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #snk imagines #writing #snk fanficition

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echo-three-one · 4 years

Note

Yo! Fic request possibly.

Soap is sent home pretty injured after a mission and his partner takes care of him (in more ways than one if you catch my drift)

Hello anon! I apologize in advance if I bended your request. But If you think of it... the event happened After a Mission and he got Pretty Injured so I'm still on track right?

Anyways enjoy!

⚠️ NSFW tag and it's 1600ish words.

John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

A year had passed

October 11th 2017.

You gazed outside the hospital you work in, taking a deep breath as the view of construction filled the huge glass window. This was you're longest break for today, it's been ten minutes since someone last paged you and you found it bizarre. But who are you to complain? You're just doing your job, like your boyfriend who's somewhere out there in that building.

You smiled as you remembered him stepping back into the world, after his tragic injury from exactly one year ago. To which you didn't know most of the events that occurred, but you fully remembered how you were there to save his life.

There was some sort of war just by Hotel Lustig, you didn't care much as that day brought in waves of injured persons that the events outside the hospital were too unimportant. But you believed he was one of the persons who got injured by the blast, and it was something only you could fix.

You took a deep breath, holding your emotions as you remember the first moment you met him. His face was almost lifeless, his pulse was faint but it was there. He had no ID but his uniform told you he was O-Pos.

"We're going to need lots of bags for this man. Hurry and contact the blood bank!" You instructed as you forcefully tore his shirt, which was originally white but now drowned in crimson and reeked of rust. A huge reopened fleshwound from a poorly made stitch, you evaluated. Maybe he didn't have the resources from when he first got operated and now it came back to haunt him. You expertly did your thing as the nurses behind you quickly assisted you, trying to impress you as they aspire to be part of the program.

It took you almost two hours until the life slowly went back to his face. A face you have been staring at every chance you have. A face you hoped to see smile someday. Then there it was, a stable heartbeat. Nurses cheered around you as well as those watching from above. He lived.

"Doctor L/N!!" Someone called over the walkie talkie. You quickly snapped back to reality and replied with urgency. It's your boyfriend. He broke his arm while on construction.

You pushed the double doors open as soon as you reached the emergency room. You could spot him from afar as his haircut stood out from the crowd, a mohawk that you grew to love.

"John!" You gasped and rushed to his aid, as the nurse secured the strap of his sling.

"Love! I'm glad to see you here." he grinned, almost looking proud at his injury. He looked like he just got a new tattoo or something. Far from the emotion of being hurt.

"What happened? Does it hurt?" you checked his chart, momentarily looking at him.

"Just a minor fall. That ladder was not as stable as it looked." he chuckled, his other hand held yours and you quickly looked at him in the eye. Lost in his cold blue orbs, your heart thumped as his eyes told you he was fine and how you looked beautiful in that outfit.

"What about your wound? Did it hurt after the fall?" You shook yourself off from his trance and unbuttoned his shirt, checking for signs of reopening.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Not here and not now, Love. Lot's of people are watching." he joked, you sigh at his attitude towards the situation. He was too chill about this.

"So, when will you be off?" he winked as he comfortably sat on he hospital bed, tapping the other side, inviting you to sit down.

"I'm actually off duty now." you reply as you accept his invitation and sunk your ass on the soft matress beside him, pulling the sky blue curtain inward, covering the two of you from the public eyes.

You slowly leaned on his strong shoulders, shoulders that you massaged after his recovery so he could stand up again, shoulders you leaned on when you were having trouble at work. You felt his arm wrap around you, his hands grazed through your coat as he slowly rubs it against your arm.

"Guess I'm driving home." you chuckled and he laughed, looking at you as he held your cheek.

"Does my insurance cover my fees here?" he asked, breaking the vibe of whatever you were both feeling.

"I'll check on it later. For now, let's take you home."

"Sounds good to me."

***

You slumped yourself on your side of the bed, leaning to a peacefully sleeping John MacTavish beside you. You stared at the scar on his chest as it rises and falls in sync with his breathing, your night music just before falling asleep.

You remembered how you carefully stitched his wound, how you poured out your heart to save this person, a person who didn't mean to you the moment you saw him but now means the whole world to you.

Putting your finger on his scar, you slowly traced its tracks across his chest, enjoying the feel of his skin. He snorted and slowly opened his eyes, smiling at the view.

"Hey you." he whispered, moving your hair behind your ear pulling you over for a kiss. You didn't hesitate but you were cautious, you were careful not to hit his injured arm. But all that focus began to fade away as your lips met his, tongues clashed in an epic battle of passion like two expert fencing athletes on a clash to see who's the best.

You gasped as you broke the kiss, panting and smiling as his blue eyes sparkled against the moonlight outside the window.

"It's been a year since I first saw you, my angel. Don't think that I forgot about that." he murmured. His Scottish accent sounded so well, you can't get enough of it, it's as if each word vibrated across your body.

You slowly lifted your leg and straddled on him, positioning your ass on a spot that's going to make him beg. He grunted softly as you detected the tone of lust from him. He was clearly enjoying the tease, so you raised your eyebrows at him and slowly shook your hips teasingly against him.

"Are we really going this way?" he complained as his hand reached out to your hips, sliding below your shirt and letting his electric touch on your hip send shivers down your spine. His thumbs make its way just below your breasts, the tip of the big finger grazing the lower part of your left breast.

"Which way?" you asked teasingly as you feel his manhood slowly grow. You pull the string that held his sweatpants and ran your hands across his abs, feeling each bump, admiring his feel.

"This way." he smirked as he thrusted his hips upward, making you yelp in surprise. Looks like he's trying to turn back the tables which is something you always loved. Him in charge. The thought made your hairs rise, as you remembered all those times he did it in this apartment ; in the showers, in the kitchen, by the dining table oh and this exact bed.

One thing led into another until you found yourself on all fours, facing the wall as you whimpered in pain as his cock slowly slid on your wet opening. He once told you that he hated dogs, but that didn't stop him from using this position, but this time only one hand was tightly gripping your plump ass.

You let out short gasps as he picks up his pace, the creaking sound of the bed got louder and louder as his thrusts became faster and deeper. You moaned on his every thrust, mentally noting the feel of his whole manhood inside of you. How his tip interacted with your sensitive walls. How his groans and whispers of endearment enter your ear and go straight to your memory banks, a part of the brain you're supposed to know but now reduced to simpler terms because all you could think of right now is how much you love this man and how this sex is a message of both your feelings.

He pulled himself out as you both gasp, he quickly moved himself to your lips not letting you a chance to catch for air. You grabbed his hair and gripped it tight, tilting your head for a better angle. You could feel his tip poking at your entrance as he placed himself between your hips.

"Please John, show me how much you love me." you whispered, lustful intentions wrapped in your tone. You could feel him smirk just before he kisses you once again, his tongue doing marvelous wonders inside your mouth as his cock slowly enters inside you, slamming it hard making the bed creak.

You whimpered in surprise but as soon as he stopped, you gripped his back signaling him to keep doing it. You could feel his cast rest on your breasts as he picks up the pace once again, this time the bed was shaking dangerously, creaking loudly while doing so. You both ignored this as the loud clapping of your skin mixed with your collective grunts, groans and moans rung on your ears while your mind swirled in a pleasure filled moment.

With one final groan, he burst his load inside you, the hot rush of liquids fill your insides making you pant and smile. He looked at you, sweat trickled from his forehead, mouth open gasping for air. He chuckled and leaned back, as your bed suddenly snapped, sending you both a few inches lower.

Complete silence. You both realized what just happened and laughed. That was some wild fucking.

"Bloody hell, we broke the bed!" he muttered seductively while you were laughing almost losing air.

"That we did." you replied and smiled at him, thanking the threads of destiny that you met this wonderful man on this fateful day, one year ago.

#horRAYfic #anonreq #Soap x Reader #codmwfic #jotterpad and it's multiple line spacing

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sneezefiction · 4 years

Text

please don’t go

Ushijima x Reader - Scenario

@moonlightaangel‘s event request: “congrats on reaching 600 followers!! 🥰 can i request ‘please don’t go’ with ushijima, if it hasn’t been requested yet! i need some angsty feelings in my life”

a/n: mmmm angsty Ushijima is my aesthetic :,,)) i also messed around with some flashback formatting, so i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst, breakups

wc: 1640

---

“Please don’t go.” It’s a soft, tearful whisper.

“I thought you would understand, y/n. We had established this.” His reply was blunt. Like a dull knife to the chest, digging deeply only to pull right back out, leaving you gushing and writhing at his words.

“Please don’t.” Your cry reached his ears this time.

“I need to focus.” He sighs, twinging with guilt.

Why didn’t you understand? Had you not known that his career would come first? Above everything else?

Or had he misspoken at some point, giving you the false assurance that this relationship would work forever? That he could always treat you as though it were possible to balance both you and his life’s work.

“Then I won’t distract you! Just don’t leave me. Please.” You begged, knees painfully falling to the cold floor, but your cries fell on deaf ears.

He remains resistant to change. Without accommodations. Nothing left to give or take.

“Maybe someday, y/n. But this isn’t working out for me anymore. I have to leave for now.” Ushijima’s response is icy.

He meant for those words to somehow be heartening. Promising, even. That maybe this was just the wrong time and place for a relationship. Where time could ebb and flow and someday he would be able to draw you back into his life.

Yes, there would be a day where you could take priority.

Because he wanted you… but not above his first love. Not above his skills and lifestyle. Not enough.

Volleyball comes first. Plain and simple.

And for that, he wouldn’t compromise.

---

White, crisp linens and fresh lemony scents.

Fluffed pillows fitted with new covers and soft patterns. Feather filled duvets. Curtains drawn to keep out the early morning light.

Everything has stayed clean, clear, and Pristine. Even the dust particles, dancing around the room, have always seemed to find their own peace, settling mildly in gentle formations.

You sleepily blink open your eyes, rustling your arms over the bedspread to what should be a happier sight. Soft pillows hugging your sides, the gentle birdsong outside your window, a conceivably delicious cup of coffee to be made in the kitchen.

Yes, you should be filled with contentment. You were safe. Physically you were fine, and nothing was on your checklist for today.

In fact, things had appeared fine for months now...

Yet all you notice is who’s missing.

There’s no longer a delicate divet where his dozing head used to lay. The scent and shape of the pillow had only recently dissipated thanks to your citrusy laundry detergent and the slow passing of time.

You don’t awaken to a recently showered, olive-green eyed boyfriend. You could still picture the water droplets, hanging freshly on the tips of his tufts of hair. How the towel draped around his neck, over his shoulders, catching the drips and drops as they fell.

That warm smile he shared with you before placing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, caressing the side of your face. It was pure. You can almost feel the ghost of his lips. Still lingering. Mocking you.

You were liberated from his presence… but you never wanted to be.

Being absorbed in his chaotic life had kept you busy, but you had never minded it. There was never a doubt in your mind that volleyball would be his first priority. That he would follow his passions. His plans. His abilities.

You just wanted to tag along. To sincerely celebrate his victories and mourn his losses. Supporting him and holding onto him when he needed it. Yes, he got home late at night, left early in the morning, and only connected with you on his very few off days… but you cherished every second of it.

Because you loved him. You poured your soul into watching him flourish and thrive. It made you feel whole.

However, eventually, to Ushijima, you started to rival volleyball, becoming a distraction. He had made space for you in his already complicated life. And at first, it was a welcome change. A breath of fresh air to his methodical and planned out character. You were complex, bringing new perspective and sunshine into his typically boring apartment. Beautiful in a natural, yet eye-catching way. Furthermore, you somehow knew how to keep up with his hectic pace along with his gruff personality.

In every aspect, you were perfect.

Expect one.

You were a diversion from the life he had in mind.

And even though you never pushed him to give you more… he longed to give you more of his attention. More time. To share his success with you. To love you deeper. To give you what you deserved. Because you are a profound being… and it burdened him to have to choose between his two greatest desires.

But, as most things do, these thoughts of love and devotion go unspoken, coming out all wrong. Mangled, unemotional, and misrepresented. Looking back, Ushijima wishes he’d been able to express it to you with empathy. To erase the tears that followed his brutal narrative. But softness isn’t his strong suit… and he needed you to know that, as powerful as he was, he wasn’t strong enough to balance you and volleyball.

---

“Ushijima, if you leave…” You take a deep breath, tears slipping down your face, “... you have to promise me you’ll never come back.” You choke out, your request came out in a sobering snarl.

For a moment, you question your own words- but your dignity was on the line.

“You can’t just break up with me and expect me to be there when you get back. I’m not disposable, you know?”

His body goes rigid. He hadn’t meant it that way.

You meant more to him than words could express… so why couldn’t he get it out clearly enough? How could he make you understand the gravity of his choices?

“...Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like that. I just need to concentrate right now.” The alarm, though subtle, shines in his eyes.

His usually composed, confident figure began to show cracks of uncertainty. He didn’t want you out of his life… Not at all.

He just needs you out of his mind for the time being. Just until he had things settled. You could come back at some point and he could love you so well. Just the way it was supposed to be.

But clearly he’d struck a deeper chord. He’d selfishly assumed you would wait for him. You weren’t some prized pony.

You’re a person. Someone with worth, plans, and dreams, just like him. He’d failed to acknowledge just how demeaning the truth of his actions were. But it’s too late.

You haven’t replied and the pain is etched intricately across your face.

“Okay, fine.” He breathes in deeply, letting out one final exhalation of defeat, “I... I’m sorry, y/n.” His brows furrow in deep, conflicted thought, but his mind is made.

He won’t be back.

---

Ushijima’s life hasn’t changed much.

It’s the same old routine. The standard, grueling workouts. Typical volleyball practice, group meetings, finances, paychecks, physicals, doctor’s appointments, fan meet-n-greets.

The usual.

But there’s a void settling like glacial frost in his soul. A snowy blue that seemed to melt into his bones, slowing him down.

He didn’t go a week… a day... a minute without thinking of you.

Even now, lying in bed, the room cloaked in a tranquil darkness, you rest on his mind.

It’s not just the emptiness of the bed or the lack of physical touch. It’s the bitter, clawing memories of what he’d done to you and your gentle spirit. His body is frigid and forever frozen in the recurring visions of his foolish explanations, by how heartless and indifferent he’d seemed.

He’ll never get over the venomous tinge to your words.

You’d felt used.

He’d never meant to make you feel that way.

But since he moved out of your apartment, everything has felt glaringly hollow. The icy, barren tundra he crosses every time he realizes he won’t come home to your sunbeam smile and those thoughtfully lit candles, wears on him. How you would lavish him in comforting words, lulling him into a restful sleep.

Ushijima hardly remembers the last time he slept well.

Those dark circles under his eyes follow him everywhere. His whole team can see the exhaustion seeping into his execution of serves and spikes. He’s never struggled with his game performance before, but somehow the crashing reality of you leaving him has broken his patterns and systems.

He’s weary from searching for an answer to his emotions. Your warmth gave him life… and with that gone, what was the point of all of this?

And then it struck him, the realization sinking its needle-sharp claws into his soul, shredding it in seconds.

He’d found something far more valuable than any unique skill. More remarkable than the legacy he’d built as a world-class volleyball player. Someone who wanted to be with him just for the sake of… love.

And for the first time since he was young, he lets a tear slip into his white pillowcase.

Just one.

But it’s for you.

Because in chasing after what made him feel known and alive...

He’d lost the only person who had ever wanted to show him that he was important all along. The only person who was satisfied with his bizarre schedules. Someone who expected nothing more than gentle kisses and weekend dates.

But you were right.

You aren’t dispensable. Nor are you someone to drop for the purpose of picking up later, like loose change on a sidewalk. You deserved to be cherished. Held tightly. Given the love that you offered others.

He wishes he’d listened when you’d pleaded with him to stay. That he’d thought it through and functioned on more than just logic and reasoning. If only he’d known what it really meant to choose you.

Because if you were here now, he’d be the one begging,

“Please don’t go.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin

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#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima #hq #ushijima scenarios #ushijima imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucreations #hq ushijima #hq scenarios #hq imagines #shiratorizawa #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fanfiction #600 follower event #sneezefiction

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ficsnroses · 4 years

Text

Ultrasound; - John Wick x Reader

4.3k words

summary : you’re 4 months pregnant, and your husband john is everything you’ve ever wanted. however, he misses your ultrasound appointment, leading to you being upset with him.

warnings : pregnant reader. angst, but also lots of fluff! x f! reader.

notes : requested by lovely anon! I really hope you enjoy this, lovie. I know you had asked for a heated argument, however, I just couldn’t bring myself to write John being angry at his s/o. he’s too much of a softie :) as always, please do leave comments and feedback, it means so much! I’m a little nervous for this one aH be kind pls ily xx

At the glass paned, brittle white front door, you stand, a cautious hand placed to the swell of your growing belly, a stray strand of hair falling to your eye as your husband John, kisses a gentle goodbye to your cheek.

“Are you sure you have to go?” You ask, off put, shining eyes with your lip bitten, as if you’d wanted to say more. John had been leaving on early mornings such as today often, far more frequent as of late; you’d be lying if you’d projected it didn’t chip off a small shard of your heart each time he’d leave you for the day.

He’d be back, later. In the evening perhaps, after you’d settled into the cozy depths of the living room couch, a sickly dessert in hand and your preferred 90’s sitcom portrayed in reruns on the blue TV screen, or as you’d retire to bed, awaiting his body to come occupy the vacant spot beside.

“Yeah.” John heavily sighs, briefly announcing his downcast glare to the floor, before reverting those much familiar, chocolate eyes to yours. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But I really do.” Subtle guilt pinched at his darkened features, beard groomed fresh to a handsome trim. His hand smoothes over the small of your back, quietly waiting,

for you to end your farewell.

“It’s just…” You trickle, eyes focusing anywhere, but on his. You didn’t mean to press; you’d reminded him of today’s upcoming events much in the last week. “We have the appointment later this afternoon.” You allow, a final time, blinking back guilt for perhaps, over doing it with the constant reminders. “Are you sure you’ll make it in time?”

-an exchange for the true feelings that had been brewing inside, as of late. On the tip of your tongue they twirled, bubbling, bubbling, boiling, and you’d known, perhaps to the slightest mishap, they’d spill over.

But for now, as your husband holds you, tentatively sure he’d return in time, you bite your tongue, choosing to trust him.

Trust. It was the band that held your marriage together.

John softly smiles, offering a squeeze to your palm. “Promise.” Assuring, his Mustang 69’ keys fish out of his pocket with a jingle, equipped to his stockier fingers. “You’re still okay to meet at the doctor’s office?” With every cell in his being, John would have preferred to stay home, with you, awaiting the appointment time.

Yet, odds never worked in his favour. He’d have to go, he’d have to be reminded of the dark that wouldn’t let its best man go easy, even on the most joyful days, such as today. A day that should have been reserved for his loving wife, who meant the world to him and more, and their baby, who would come into the world in a mere 5 months. When nimble fingers reach for the collar of his brown leather jacket, his love nods, faking her best executed smile in return.

John knew you, well as the back of his hand. He knew you weren’t pleased with the idea of him leaving, wherever he was off to today. Yet, he knew you’d often

bite your tongue,

for him. John knew he’d struck gold when he’d found you, when you’d fell in love with him, and him, immensely with you. In your relationship, there had been much darkness. Much obscurity, much ambiguity to the life John lived separate from the one you shared together. You know about John’s profession, and the hurt he’d caused to many wretched souls. When he was home, with you, your John is a daydream, in human form.

Soft, gentle, caring. Words fall short of the mountain that is your man.

Yet the day he’d told you, of the culpability, the shame that resides within him; claws through each regret ridden seam, each sorrow droned bone in his body,

nothing changed within you.

You didn’t fall out of love. You didn’t fall less. The same hands that held yours, held knives and guns, slaughtered the lives of many. But they’d given life to you. The day your John told you he’d lost count of the souls he’d taken, you’d vowed to love him regardless. To accept him with whatever baggage he came with. He kept the details of his whereabouts, and the deeds he’d succumb to scare.

Mixing you with the life he so desperately wanted to escape was the last thing he’d wanted to do. So you let him, you let him keep mum on scattered details and fine points of who the famed Boogyman was,

You promised to see in him, just John.

John Wick, your husband, who deserves more than anyone the life you’ve built together. A beautiful home in a secure neighbourhood, a house filled with love, a house feels warm, painted with white crisp walls that hold no dark, enveloped in the anticipation of tiny feet sputtering down the open halls someday soon.

“I’ll meet you there, then. Drive safe, and call me if you change your mind, I’ll send a taxi your way.” He quietly reminds, still holding the hand that had painted colour to his black and white guarded walls. You’d opened long drawn curtains that closed to all that came; you were the first to let sunlight in, allow it to kiss his skin for the first time, in a long, long time.

“I love you.” John smiles. “So much. Stay safe, okay? I’ll call you.” He adds, a final time, before instilling a soft kiss to your plump stained lips, your own hand smoothing a wrinkle off his shirt clad chest.

“Love you too.” You quietly smile, holding your bump as you gaze him out the white paned front door, off to somewhere you’d never asked.

You’d bit your tongue, for him,

Yet again.

The doctor’s office air proves cold, chilled to an icy, unsympathetic hail. With a hand to your bump, and a much growing pierce to your now aching temple, your brows frown and an uneased anger surfaces inside.

John promised.

One minute to appointment time.

‘He’ll come. He’d walk through the door any second,’ muses your heart.

‘He won’t. He hasn’t responded to any calls, or messages.’ Punctuates your mind.

He didn’t forget. Something must have come up. He wanted to be here.

Thoughts, ponderings, half attempted assurances to your own worn out mind.

He shouldn’t have gone. He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have let anything come up. That was his job as the father of this child.

He needed to be here today. He knew how much this means to you.

It should have meant enough to him to be here.

You, your baby,

should have meant enough.

“Mrs. Y/N Wick?” The call of your name disrupts your whirlwind of destructive thoughts. Perhaps it was your emotions that had been working overtime as of late, perhaps it was the distance between you and John.

Perhaps it was the scars burned into your tongue. The toxins that burned being bitten down.

Gnawed, bitten,

concealed,

covered.

Sat in the cold leathered office bed chair, your OB-GYN spins you a warm smile, and you smile back best as you can, although reluctantly so. Masquerading joy had proven tough, when the hand that should have been holding yours right now proves absent. You sink further into the bed, hem of your top rolled up just below your breasts to allow the doctor access.

“How are you today, Y/N?” She shines, layering on a pair of blue latex gloves, prior to smearing a cold, frigid gel to your tummy. The chill of the balm had always sent shivers peppering down your spine, you’d clenched John’s hand firmer to the feel at your previous check ups. “I’m doing well.” You lie, you bite the truth. Wispy fingers thread together, placed on your lap.

“John’s not here today?” She wonders, preoccupied with the transducer probe equipped in her left grip, her right still smearing the cold gel to your bump. The sound of the radiology machine powering echoes your ears, and you relieve a soft exhale, sure not to cast your dreary emotions too much.

The last thing you needed right now, was to spill your long shielded, buried emotions to your OB-GYN, who was solely trying to do her job. “No, he’s not.” You dryly return, swallowing thickly in declaration more to yourself, than to anyone else.

Her eyes gloss over your features, eyes focused on the beige office walls, fingers twiddling in your enclosed grip. “Everything alright?” She wonders, to your half lost execution, a noticeable dread on your mind, weighing.

“Of course.” You lie, you smile with an emptiness void of usual warmth, through untruthful teeth. “I would appreciate it if we could get started as soon as possible.” You request, wanting none more than to be left alone.

To sift through long pent up feelings, frustrations and worries that brewed inside; to allow hostage feelings pleading to be let free, overtake your mind.

The couch feels colder than normal; or perhaps it was the room.

A room, that fell cold, longing for someone else to be in it.

John.

The appointment concluded a little over an hour ago, a full pot of mint tea sits brewing on the coffee table as you await his arrival. The clock ticks in the distance, your mind shuffling a million thoughts a minute.

He’s not home. He hasn’t been home.

You’d bit your tongue, far too long.

He’d seared a cut. He’d butchered into a part of you, and you wonder when you’d forgotten the way you used to be.

You ponder; when you’d started to settle for his absence. A fire boils inside, lathers, toils. The scorch of long concealed feelings pent up, brewing in secret. Had the sound of a heavy door closing shut not broke your contemplation, you’d perhaps shed a few warm tears, unannounced. Unwelcomed dew that may have just glided off your cheeks, the weight of a million bricks released.

You’d heard his heavy footsteps on their way in, the sound of Dog’s excited paws trotting along the floor as he runs towards his bestest friend.

John-

the one person you’d thought you could share anything with. Count on for anything, had left you deserted. He’d been building a wall around, leaving you left all alone, in the grey dark. Shackled with dread, the conversation that you knew would follow tonight, is something you’d prayed would never rehearse between you and your John.

Yet, perhaps that was the problem. Your John, seemed to be lost. The man you fell in love with, would leave the world behind if you’d asked him to.

He’d made it clear; you and him against the world.

Nothing was larger, nothing was sweeter than what he’d made with you. He’d been ecstatic when you’d found out you were pregnant, promised to never leave your hand the entire way through.

You yearn for that John again;

Beg.

Hope.

Plead.

Yearn. You yearn for your husband, again. Burn, crash, crumble, the feelings become too much, the anger pounds inside. Indignant, blue, muddled, hurting, hurting, hurting-

“Y/N,”

His voice. A confliction at it’s finest. To fall into his arms and pour out your heart, or to fight. To make him feel the ache he’d doused your heart in.

The toxins on your lips threaten to burn; they’ll sear your cheeks, drip a dark tar with each syllable, each vowel that falls. The sharp edges will only cut further. A faint frown lingers the planes of your face, and you shake your head, gaze downcast when he inches further into the room, stance preparing to kneel in front of you on the hardwooden floor. He smells faintly of the air outside; crisp, winter auburns and sharp wind. Yet there’s that familiar, warmer spice. Something that kisses his skin, reminds you of home.

You don’t remember when you started looking at him, and seeing home. It’s been far too long, and now, it’s all you know.

It’s tough being angry at someone, who loves so deep;

John loves with his entirety. John feels with each inch of his battered skin; his bones remember the chill of feeling null.

Stare melting into the crackling fireplace, you avoid his gaze, ignore his touch when a heavy hand rests to your thigh. Warm, comforting, a reminder of the way his touch had the ability to stitch each ripping seam inside you; to mend, and adorn flowers all over.

But his touch, holds no triumph today.

The flowers didn’t bloom,

the slits only gushed.

“Baby, I’m sorry-”

It comes in flashes. Bold, like a lightening bolt.

Boom

Boom.

“Don’t.” You whisper a grit, jaw tightening with a pounding ache to your temple protruding. “Do not try and explain yourself.”

Firm; like a lightening bolt. Much to your dismay, his cocoa kissed hair falters in hues; long, curtained along the frame of his face. Coffee eyes show repulse, a certain sadness you remember from long, long ago.

A sorrow you hadn’t seen often since you’d given him your heart, for his in return. “You don’t get to explain yourself.” You speak; firm, assertive, tears pricking in watery jewels in the corners of your orbs. Perhaps it was the high of pregnancy hormones, or the dire of the situation. For the first time, with John, today marked the start of something you’d never felt before.

You felt forgotten. Less than.

“I told you how much I wanted you with me. I told you how important today was to me.” Tone dreary, John’s heart practically sliced into a million pieces, at mercy of the dagger that was your wounded voice.

Grim, an aching pound stings his nerves, crinkled lines of stress embroidered to his forehead, and his spine unravels in a lean into your skin, his hands coming to engulf around yours in a tender hold. “Baby, I know and I’m-”

Lightening. Swift; sharp.

“No!” You almost shout, hands pulled out of his larger, rougher ones. “You do not get to explain yourself.” The words had come out harsher than intended, the cuts had been deeper than thought. They pour, and a river streams. A flood of built up emotion, a cry your tears won’t bear hold.

“Baby, don’t yell.” A quiet John speaks lowly, barely heard with a gaze avoidant of yours. “It’s not good for our baby girl.” He seems tense. He feels, he feels with each inch of his bones. Still, his hand never leaves your thigh, resting, reminding you that he’s there now. And he will be.

He will be, for good.

Yet, his words only pierce into you further; the blade twists in your skin. Huffing a sneered chuckle, your eyes blink away unwanted tears, the moment needing your assertion more than a wave of vulnerable grief. “Our baby?” Veins course with something so icy, so frozen; an agonizing burn claws away at your temples, features far from forgiving. You knew the words that threatened to brew up on your tongue were far from the truth. You knew they held far more weight than he deserved to bear.

“Because I feel almost as if she’s just my baby with how absent you’ve been, John.”

After thunder, after lightening, comes rain. Perhaps the worst, of them all. Cold, condescending, long pouring rain; it pelts in darkness, loud, leaving its mark on the drought terrain. It pours quietly, yet stridently all at once. It seeps, and it seeps, and it seeps, until it stops.

Only, no one knows. When it’ll stop.

“I’ve been alone. I’ve been feeling alone. You’ve made me feel alone.”

Rain. Pelting, and pelting, and pelting.

This stream of misery, these awful words, declarations. You know he’s hurting. You’re hurting him. You’re doing the one thing, you promised you’d never do to him. His breathe remains calm, collected, his eyes seldom avoid yours. His hand leaves your thigh, allowing, respecting your space. Those cocoa kissed eyes hold a weight heavier than the sear of a million burns.

You almost want, plead for him to say something back; to anguish the fire.

It’s hard getting mad at someone who doesn’t raise their voice. Its tough being angry at someone,

like your John.

You’ve knew you were lying. You knew your words held zero truth. He hadn’t been making you feel alone. He’d been waking up curled into your skin, holding your hand through the dreadful nights. He’d been sacrificing sleep, putting himself second to make sure you were alright.

To make sure his baby was alright. Yet, his efforts had proved unsuccessful, nonetheless. Because as of late, he had been coming home later. He had been leaving earlier, he had been away. He had left you alone.

Quiet, filled with regret, his voice carries a burden; the burden of hurting the only person that had ever truly mattered to him. Of hurting the women who he loves, adores, more than the stars adore the moon. “I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. I promise.” John speaks, eyes insistent with guilt.

Make it up. He’ll make it up. Another broken promise, your mind threatens, yet your heart whispers. It whispers, that he will. John had a way, John has an inherent kindness. Your lips pursue, the words needing to come out. You needed to be heard today. You needed to know he understood.

Laced with aggravation, your voice flows off your lips in rougher tides than intended. “I don’t need you to make it up, John.” You explain, calmer, collected. Firm. “I just need you to be here. And if that’s something you can’t do, I need you to tell me now.” Twisted with agony, your heart feels heavy in your chest. “My child needs a father who will be there.”

“Our child.” John interrupts, correcting, quietly, respectfully.

He knew better than to argue with his pregnant, hormone loaded wife. Nonetheless, that didn’t mean he would let her abdicate the fact that he is the father of their child. Although they hadn’t met yet, John knew. He could feel it in his bones. She would be the payoff. His baby would hold his entire heart, along with her mommy.

Each part of John yearns for nothing but his wife and child. They are all that matters. They are the payoff; the decades of grim sin that conjure on his fingertips would finally, at last lay to rest because of them. For them.

Quietly, a muffled sigh, heavy, tense, leaves your mauve stained lips. A faint frown lingers the depths of your face, something filled with melancholy confession. A heaviness fills the silent room still, occupied with nothing but your two worn out souls, desperately longing for nothing more, than for this nightmare to be over.

John and you don’t argue. Despite small disputes over shoes left at the front door, or a towel left discarded without care to the bathroom floor, this isn’t something John and you do. It isn’t something small. It isn’t something you can brush off, forget about a minute thereafter.

John and you, complete each other. You compliment each other. You fight for each other.

His heart and yours, are old, old friends.

The water rises, a river flows from your mouth. Steeping thoughts the stitched seams even, cannot bear hold. With a lingering sadness peppered to your tenor, you sigh heavily, head falling downcast to gaze the floor below. John watches you, in a drown of his own guilt; sadness of his own.

He longs to hold you; it had been far too long without.

“You’re always away in the day as of late, and I hate that the only time I really see you is when you come home to sleep.” You begin, voice cut with sorrow. “Sometimes I lay awake in the late of night, savouring the feeling of you just holding me. Touching me. Because I’ve began to get comfortable with knowing moments like that only happen during the night.” Deeper and deeper, each cut wounds into your skin. “I hate it John.” You confess, longing for those strong, toned arms to scoop you up and assure you everything would be okay. That he would tell you what’s been going on, let you in. “I don’t want to be comfortable in knowing you’re not around.”

A slight chuckle shines through your raspy throat, yet the utter sorrow never fails to paint each feature as the words continue to fall. There’s a certain vulnerability in your tone, a certain weakness you wish you could hide. “My body is changing, and I’ve been feeling low. I’m scared of not being what she deserves when she comes.” You barely whisper, tears pricking, a hand resting on your growing belly. A small drop falls, the pent up weight of a billion timid thoughts. “Feeling like you’re maybe not all in anymore makes me feel,” If a word, could even portray the density, the sheer torment of the thought of life with John being anything less than what you hoped. “..Awful.” You cease, a lip quivering. “I feel so awful, John.”

Downcast, your eyes scan the floor, heart pounding, the stillness killing you. John watches you, eyes doused with remorse. Quietly, he’d barely heard your words, strung together. A pair of beautiful eyes dilate with nothing, but blue, as they search his dark orbs.

“John, are you falling out of love with me?”

Sharp.

Shrill.

You swore something inside him broke. Something twisted and turned, left a deep puncture; wounded him for good.

Like a lightening bolt. You’d sunk the needles where it hurts the most.

Weary of his silence, you continue. Unsure of the outcome, yet allowing the river that falls your lips, to flow free, full, at last. “I just…I miss you so much. I don’t need anything but you right now.” Bitten to your lip, a choked sob threatens to surface, although you manage to keep yourself collected. “I don’t want anything but you; I never have.”

And with those words, John’s weary limbs resist the hold no more. Kneeling in front of you as you sit still on the grey couch, John pulls your frame close, so close, that you hear the steady rhythm of his heart. His body is warm, brimmed with love; you feel the soak of a few strayed tears from his eyes seep into the supple skin of your neck.

He holds you so close.

And you hold him; the way it was always meant to be.

With your arms firmly wrapped around his body, you sink into his skin, melting in the touch of the man you love most. Eyes closed, you breathe in his scent, and he threads his fingers in tender strokes to your hair. Honey drenched kisses press to your shoulder, your neck, the side of your head as he quietly finds the right words to surface; nevertheless, feeling as if anything at all would fall short for what he felt in this moment.

John Wick, sees nothing in this world, but you. As a few more moments of silent relish pass, he pulls his head back a mere few inches, still holding your body so close. With his callous thumb brushing a gentle stroke just under your eye, his thin taut lips kiss a tender, soft peck to where a tear had once fell from your cheek, his eyes still soaking in gloom. With his voice, deep, rich as butter, yet rasped, he speaks softly, silked into your ears, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ve been trying to get out.” Velvet. He speaks, as if the finest of velvet. “And I did, I left that part of me behind today.” Swallowing thick, John inches in closer, kissing a soft, gentle kiss to your eye, that had been haven to nothing but drifted tears earlier. “For you, and for our baby girl.”

Close, proximate, he holds you. His touch alone, fixes everything. “You are all I want. Here, is where I want to be. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” He whispers, his forehead resting to yours as you cup his perfectly groomed, bearded cheek. “I didn’t want you worrying; I needed you to stay happy. You’re carrying our baby, I wanted you to be carefree, and nothing else. I never wanted to hurt you.” His heart pours, his heart sears. “I will never hurt you, or our child.” Looking down at your belly, his hand rests to your bump as his lips press a gentle kiss to the top.

And with his lips, holding the only remedy you’d ever need, he kisses you with all the love he holds, all the love he feels for no one, but you. “You are my everything. Please believe me when I say it. I wanted you then, I want you now, and I will until we take our last breath.” His words hold sincerity, something reserved for no one but you.

“From today on, baby, I’m all in. I’m all yours, and hers. I’ll be here for it all, the sleepless nights, the cravings, the aches, everything.” He pours his heart to you, never letting go, as if he’d been scared you’d disappear. “You are it for me, Y/N. I love you more than I could ever tell. Please believe me when I say it.”

And with your eyes, shining into his, you keep his cheek cupped, and your foreheads locked. You stare, and you stare, and you stare, into the eyes of your world. Into the eyes of the man who you knew would become the best father; perhaps greater of a father to your child than he is a husband, if only it was possible.

Your husband, deserves the stars. And if you could, you’d pick them out of the sky like apple blossoms in summer, and decorate them in his hair. And with every ounce in your being, you smile, and you kiss him tender, you hold him so close, so near.

“I do.” You smile, holding on.

“I believe you. I trust you.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick imagine #john wick fanfiction #john wick x y/n

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starlightrows · 3 years

Text

Something Sweet

Chapter 0 - Chasing Dreams

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: angst, symptoms of depression (not graphic or diagnosed), brief mention of alcohol and drug use, hopeful ending

Summary: Paz finds himself trapped in a routine that’s keeping him tied to a lifestyle that brings him no joy. It’s not until a phone call from his good friend Din, that he realizes that there are better things waiting just over the horizon if you can just be brave enough to make the leap of faith

This chapter is labeled chapter 0, because it takes places before the events of the actual story and does not include the reader. If you’re only here for the couply-goodness, feel free to skip this chapter and sit tight the romance is coming I promise!

Chapter 0 - Chasing Dreams is dedicated to @maybege who inspires me to chase my fan fiction dreams every single day, and is single handedly responsible for my love, yearning, and obsession with the Big Blue Mando Man we all know and love as Paz Vizsla! This is one is for you May ❤️

The 5am train is full of commuters, heading into work with coffee cups in hand and more or less rested ready to start the day. Everyone seems to be on the same page, consume enough caffeine to be personable by the time you get to the office, use the time on the train to do your hair or makeup or start a little early on emails from your phone if you’re behind. It’s all very hustle and bustle, keep your head down and keep grinding to make it in the big city.

Paz rode the 5am train every morning. But not heading into the city. No, he got on the train at 5am and rode it all the way down to the end of the line to get back to his dumpy little shoebox of an apartment on the outskirts of the city around 8am.

Why he chose to move to the city after getting out of the Marine Corps was beyond him. His commander told him that he had a friend that was looking to hire some muscle as private security for his upper echelon nightclubs and it could be a good job opportunity for him fresh out of the service. Not having anywhere else to go, he took the job. Now his days blurred together in a lopsided haze. Wake up around 3pm, eat something cheap and tasteless, work out, shower and get dressed to work. Catch the 6pm train into the city and spend all three hours thinking about far away places. What his life might be like if he was someone else or somewhere else. Get to the club and start work at 9pm. Spend the night watching people dance and sing and scream, drink ridiculously expensive alcohol and take brightly colored party drugs that blow out their pupils and make them want to dance and sing more. By the time 5am rolls around again his head is pounding from listening to electronic dance music for 8 continuous hours, and he spends the remaining 3 hours of his day riding the train back out of the city and wishing he had made different choices in his life.

Of course he does get Monday’s and Tuesday’s off, those days he still doesn’t really know what to do with himself. It’s too expensive to have a car in the city, so he can’t drive anywhere. And he’s too far away from any of the attractions of the city to walk to them. So he tends to spend his off days either walking around the track at the local park, or in his tiny kitchen kneading bread dough and baking test batches until it comes out the way he liked it. This is one of the big things he spends his time wondering about. If he kept up working in private security, and paying for this shit apartment, would he someday be able to afford to move closer to work and spend less time commuting? Maybe he could eventually save up and get a place with a bigger kitchen so he could try making more things. He liked baking. Kneading bread dough, making cake batter, mixing frosting colors. It’s telling that a man like him dreamt about pastries and cooking every night, and spent his long commuting hours debating on saving up more for a better place or spending a little extra on culinary equipment.

He didn’t tell anybody this is how he spent his time and money, not that he really talked to anyone these days anyway. Since leaving the service he hasn’t been good about keeping up with his brothers in arms, or his friends from before getting deployed. He hasn’t really made new friends in the city either. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to any of them, he’s just busy and when he does think about reaching out to someone, he always figures they’re busy too. Every day the sun rises and sets, and it’s like he’s just floating through life, waiting for something to change.

One Monday, Paz is walking around the track at the local park. It’s scraggly and not well maintained but at least it’s outdoors. He’s thinking about the sourdough loaf back in his apartment rising right now. Hopefully this one will turn out good, he’s planning to try a dutch oven bake soon, but that requires buying a dutch oven and he’s trying so hard to save up for a better apartment. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he considers just letting it go to voicemail figuring it was probably his boss asking him to come in and work tonight. But something in him tells him to look, the name on the screen surprises him. Din Djarin. His long time friend from way back before joining the service. Paz answered the phone.

“Hey buddy, Happy Birthday!” Din says. Paz stopped walking

“It’s not my birthday?” Paz stepped off to the side of the track and sat down on a bench running a hand over his face.

Din laughs on the other end of the line, “Yeah it is, April 30th right?”

Paz pulls his phone away from his face and checks the date, “Holy shit, it is my birthday,”

“Yeah man. Did you really forget?” Din asks, he sounds like he’s moving around Paz hopes he’s not bothering him or getting in the way of his day right now.

“Honestly yeah, it feels like April just started,” he admits

“Been busy then? Running around in the big city, making big money, romancing cute hunnies?” Din teases, Paz can hear another voice on the other side. He figure’s it’s Din’s son, he’s gotta be about two or three years old now.

“Yeah, something like that,” Paz mumbles

“Yeah? Then why don’t you sound happy about it?” Din asks, sensing his friends lack of enthusiasm

“It’s fine, really. The city is nice, I just wish I could actually live in it and enjoy it. Actually I wish everyone who lived here actually enjoyed it. Kinda just feels like everyone who lives here only knows how to work or be a strung out party goer,” Paz sighs

“Guess the big city life isn’t all it's cracked up to be huh,” Din says “Listen… you should come out to visit sometime. I feel like this city is more your style. We’re still a major city with nice attractions and events, but there’s more community here and things are a little slower ya know,”

“I can’t just drop everything and go all the way out there. You live over 2000 miles away,” Paz says, though the prospect of a smaller city with a community atmosphere does sound awfully appealing

“Paz, you’ve been working for a private security company for two years and I can almost guarantee that you haven’t taken a single hour of paid time off or sick leave. Flights are a little pricey, I’ll give you that, but you can stay with me so you don’t have to pay for a hotel or anything,” Din offers “I’ll pay for your half of your flight, call it a birthday present,”

“I’ll tell you what Din, I’ll think about it. You’re probably right, I do need to get out of the city for a bit. I’ll talk to the boss about taking some time off,” Paz says, standing back up.

“That’s the spirit!” Din exclaims “Call me when you figure out a time that’s good for you so we can book you a flight,”

Paz and Din chat idly for another couple of minutes before Din bids him goodbye, and happy birthday. Paz tucks his phone back into his pocket and smiles. For the first time in a very long time, he’s actually looking forward to something.

----

Two weeks later Paz is sitting on a plane for the first time since coming back to the states after deployment, with two weeks off of paid vacation time on his way to visit Din. It’s a long six and half hour flight and the seat is pretty small for how wide his frame is, but he’s hopeful. If nothing else, he was going to get to spend two weeks with his best friend.

Din is waiting for him at the airport when his flight arrives. He greets him with a bracing hug and the promise of a really good dinner waiting for him. The moment Paz steps out of the airport he knows he’s in trouble. Instead of a massive industrial looking city full of high rise buildings with thousands of people pushing their way through to get on with their day, he’s met with bright blue skies. Trees that are just starting to put out new leaves and flowers for spring. The air is fresh and clear. A feeling wells up in his chest, when he turns and can see mountains in the distance. It’s beautiful.

“You coming?” Din draws him out of his thoughts, tossing his suitcase in the back of his truck.

“Yeah, I just didn’t realize you lived so close to the mountains,” Paz admitted stepping up into the passenger seat.

“Everyone says that when they first come here. You should see them in winter when they’re covered in snow,” Din says. Paz can imagine it, but he hopes to see it with his own eyes.

Din drives through the city, it’s a lot like the city Paz had just come from, except older and less flashy. Less people, and less cars. All of the businesses looked unique and inviting.

Din passes a street and points down it without looking, “My studio is right down there. It’s a great little spot. All the business owners on the block are close, we play poker and shoot pool on Tuesday nights at the bar on the corner. You’re definitely coming with me for that this week,”

“I could shoot some pool,” Paz laughs.

Din turns out of the downtown area, and takes a main boulevard lined with fast food restaurants and dive bars. Din points again, “That’s the stadium for the university. Hope you like football, because it’s kind of a big thing here,”

“Still think I could have pulled a scholarship for football straight out of high school if I wasn’t so dead set on going into the Marine Corps,” Paz jokes

“It’s just as well,” Din shrugs with a smile “you make one hell of a Marine,”

Din turns down another road off the main drag. They pass parks, an elementary school, neighborhoods, and a lone Dairy Queen before turning into another neighborhood full of very nice houses with front lawns and trees giving off pink and white flower buds.

Din pulls the truck up into one of the driveways, and cuts the engine. Paz gets out of the truck and takes in the house. It’s massive by his standards.

“Is your girlfriend a CEO or something?” Paz asks with a laugh. Din gives him a look, and goes to take the suitcase out of the back.

“No? She and her brothers flip houses together,” he replies “why do you ask?”

“Your place is huge, man! When I was a kid these are the kind of houses I thought millionaires lived in,” Paz follows Din towards the front door.

Din laughs, as he unlocks the door. “Maybe in other states, but not here. The million dollar houses here are the size of castles. This house is pretty average for this area, and it didn’t cost us an arm and a leg to get,”

Paz nods and follows his friend into the house. It’s not just a house, it’s a home. Paz can tell because even though it’s clean on the inside it looks lived in, well loved. Pictures and art on the walls. The living room had a big tv and sectional couch, perfect for hosting game day events and watch parties. He could see a chest in the corner that clearly had toys in it. The kitchen was huge! A double doored refrigerator, cabinet space and marble countertops. He can see through a sliding glass door there’s a backyard, a play structure and home swing set sat in the middle of it for Din’s little boy. He didn’t have any pets but he could picture a dog running around out there too.

This is it. This is what he’d spent the last two years dreaming about on the train rides to and from the city. This is his far away place. He’s been here for less than half an hour and he already knows, he is meant to be here.

The next two weeks are the happiest Paz has ever felt. Exploring the downtown area, visiting the parks and the nature reserve just outside of town, the restaurants serve great food that doesn’t cost a fortune. He takes Din’s little boy to the zoo and out for ice cream. He gets to know Din’s girlfriend and her two brothers, apparently flipping houses in some of the older more run down parts of town is very rewarding and breathes new life into the city. He visits Din’s tattoo studio, and goes with him to the bar on Tuesday night like he promised.

Everyone there is friendly, welcoming and adamantly against him leaving at the end of the week.

“You sure you have to go back, you’re part of the crew man!” says Cara, she owns the boxing studio down the street.

Paz took a swing from his beer, and laughed “You think I want to go back there? I gotta figure out how to get out of my lease, quit my job. I gotta find somewhere to live and work here first,”

“If you’re looking for a job just to get on your feet, I could use another bartender,” Boba, the guy who owns the bar says “Fennec is looking to move to part time too, more time slots available for work,”

“If you’re serious, I’ll take you up on that offer,” Paz says.

Boba extends a hand to him, “Job’s yours if you want it,” Paz grins and shakes his hand.

A few days later Paz is genuinely sad about having to hug Din’s little boy goodbye, and get back on the plane to take him back across the country. Back to the city that never sleeps, and doesn’t appreciate the little things in life. Back to the six hours round trip of commuting. Back to the scraggly uncared for parks and dirty streets. He promised himself on that plane ride, he would not get caught up in the monotony and blinding routine like before. There is a better life waiting for him. All he has to do is make the leap of faith and take it.

———

He holds himself to his promise. In the first week when he got back he spent the entire three hour train ride to work researching apartments in the area he wanted to live. He was shocked to find out the exact same price he was paying for his shoebox apartment with no amenities and terrible maintenance; could get him a huge apartment with a big kitchen, access to a pool, gym, and shared entertainment space. It even came with a parking spot. And there were other options that were almost as nice for less money. And to think he had wasted so much time and money pretending he was happy, or was getting close to being able to afford to be happy living in the bigger city. What a joke.

He had Din submit an application to an apartment complex he really liked about a week after he got back. The second he found out he was approved and got the apartment, he put in his two weeks notice and started packing. Another six hours plane trip didn’t sound very appealing but, at least it was a one way trip this time.

Paz found moving out of his apartment to be exceptionally easy. He threw all of his belongings into two suitcases, and shipped the few things that wouldn’t fit in a box he could pick up at the post office when he got there. Everything else was not worth saving, so he put everything out on the side of the road in front of his old apartment with a piece of paper taped to it that read: FREE!

Unfortunately moving into the new apartment in the new city was a little more challenging. Furnishing an apartment from scratch is no small task. But to his amazement and truly heartfelt joy, all of Din’s friends he had met when he came to visit helped him move things into his new place. Boba even loaned him his truck to go pick up bigger furniture like the couch and bed frame he ordered. Cara and Peli, the woman who owned the auto parts store on the next block over from Din’s studio and Boba’s bar, sat with him for hours assembling IKEA furniture. Din’s girlfriend even came by with Din’s little boy, to visit uncle Paz and help him figure out how to appropriately decorate and furnish a “real apartment”.

He loves his new life in this new city. Working for Boba at the bar in the evenings is pretty low stress, and he makes quite a bit in tips. During the day he’s been working on sourdough starters, determining the best herbs and flavors to top focaccia bread, trying his hand at doing French baguettes. And more recently, he’s been trying to make chocolate croissants from scratch. Though he hasn’t had much success yet. But he keeps trying.

Every time something comes out perfect, he writes down every step in a blue notebook he found lying around with his things before he moved.

Paz never imagined his life turning out like this. If he was told just 3 months ago he would be moving across the country on a whim, to chase his dream of living a simpler life, he wouldn’t have believed it. And then things got even better.

About six months after moving, Paz really felt like he was home in this city. He split his time between working part time as an instructor at Cara’s boxing studio, bartending for Boba, and working on his culinary hobby. Until one day, the older couple that owned the bagel shop a few doors down from Din’s tattoo studio closed up shop. Apparently they were retiring, packing up the business and moving out of state to be closer to their grandchildren.

There was a sign on the vacant building indicating the unit was about to become available. A thought crossed his mind…. he had no idea where it came from or if he was remotely qualified to pull it off… but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Does anyone have a contact number for the couple that owned the bagel shop?” Paz asks the group

“Yeah,” Cara pipes up “I house sat for them once. Why?”

“I want to buy their industrial baking equipment, and takeover their lease,” he replies seriously

“You want to run the bagel shop?” Fennec asks

“No… I uh, I wanna open a bakery,” Paz admits

“You do make a mean sourdough dude…. I say go for it,” Din encourages him

“I’m sure they’ll sell you the equipment at a discount. Hell they might even leave it to you for free if you tell them what you’re gonna do with it,” Cara tells him, she writes down a phone number on a napkin and hands it to Paz. He pockets the napkin with a thank you and a nod.

The next day he calls the number, and has a lovely chat with the wife who, as Cara pointed out, was eager to get the equipment off their hands. She also provided a ton of helpful information on running a small business in this area, who trustworthy suppliers were, a good lawyer to get all the paperwork done, a good accountant to file taxes next spring, and more. Honestly it was a lot more than Paz has even considered, but something in his heart was telling him it’s the right decision. That this is a challenge he absolutely had to tackle. That maybe this has always been his calling.

And right he was. Vizsla’s Bakery had a grand debut the following autumn. And he knew, this is it. He’s finally made it. All of the time he spent in the Marines fighting in wars he never truly understood, all of his years spent working a mindless job in a depressing city, pretending he was not struggling. All of it has led him here. To a city he loves, with friends so close to him they’re like family, a home… a real home. And a dream he can finally live out.

Tag List: @maybege

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #Paz Vizsla #Paz Vizsla x reader #Paz Viszla #Paz Viszla x reader #Pastry Chef!Paz AU #Pastry Chef!Paz #Modern!AU #Modern!Paz Vizsla

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