#but the ones who are just SAPPY TO EACH OTHER MELTS MY EMPTY LITTLE HEART | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

indouloureux · 2 years ago

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𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞

summary: saturdays bring you a serene daze, especially when you share it with steve; your boyfriend who needs to be reassured, you decide, but you don't care — you'll idly love on him anytime.

— or: lazy days where you usually do nothing makes you do something, though something malicious. in other words, you and steve have lazy sex to keep your feet on the ground.

warnings: slight angst, fluff, short, too much deep words, post s4, slightly insecure steve, doubts, steve being a sappy boyfriend. smut (18+ mdni), fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, praise kink.

a/n: the title seriously has no connection to the story. a gift for you lovelies after i hit 8k. enjoy and don't forget to reblog mwah mwah

Saturdays bring you to a serene daze.

It’s one out of two days you get to relax — free of school, free of stress, and the putrid hatred that burns in your chest when you see the same annoying faces for five days straight. It’s a day you use to simply do nothing.

With your boyfriend, Steve Harrington.

Dolce far niente, as he calls your shared Saturdays — the sweetness of doing nothing.

Staying in his safe haven, laying in the soft duvet, of tangled limbs and petal silk skin that melt into one another; it’s ataraxy, the beauteous threshold belabors all the vexing tension of the cursed town you’re both trapped in. Naught but the sun that glows through, his soft breaths that tickle your ear and his feather kisses that makes your heart deliquesce in his palm, and his idle utterances of devotion.

Yeah, it’s enough to keep you doing nothing but to be in his arms.

But he calls it your room now, too. Having moved in with him months ago because, well, it's as if his parents had wordlessly abandoned him. Living alone in a place full of empty bedrooms that lacked the vitality that other homes had made him... lonely. So when he invited you to move in with him and you said yes without doubt, he made some room in his cabinets and watched as you hung your clothes beside his.

Steve emerges from the bathroom with a towel in his head, rumpling his wet hair. The other towel hangs loosely around his hips, v-line prominent and taunting. When his feet stomp lightly on the rug, you turn away from your deceitful reflection, comb halfway down your damp locks as you meet his eyes.

“As much as I love you,” he flips the towel over his shoulder, hands in his hips, weight shifting on his left leg as his lips purse in feigned annoyance. His mom look, as you so teasingly called it — you’ve seen it way too many times, especially when he’s with the kids. “You took up all the hot water, babe,”

You giggle, placing the comb down and pushing yourself away from the mirror. “I’m sorry. Just felt so relaxing,” you push his wet hair out of his forehead. “I told you to join me, Stevie.”

“But I was eating,” he pouts, letting you take the towel from his shoulder and squeeze his dripping locks. “I couldn’t just leave my waffles to shower, (y/n),”

“Yes you can,” you tug hard on his hair, enough to pull his head down. Steve playfully glowers at you. “Wait… did you choose waffles over me?”

He pales a little. “No,”

“Yes you did!”

“I didn’t!—ow,” he takes your wrist in his open hand, closing his fingers around the soft skin. Steve laughs almost timidly at you, finds the shock from your parted lips amusing. “I’ll choose waffles over you, honeybee. I was just very hungry,”

Your hand dampens from the towel, watching his flattened curls plump. His eyes follow yours, despite not meeting each other. “‘Y always gotta keep that mouth full, huh?”

Lovestruck, like he always was whenever he’s got his eye on you, he tilts his head and digs his lips on the lines of your palm. You look at him, eyelashes fluttering. “And my mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it,” he whispers.

Cheeks aflame and heartbeats rise. Although his cheeky remarks tend to be… ubiquitous, it always ends with you lifting in the air and a kiss that brings you back to the ground. Steve is, no doubt, poetic when it comes to proclaiming his love despite his prosaic life. He couldn’t help it — he’s got you, he said, you deserved to know that you’re loved.

You chuckle. “Can this mouth give me a kiss, then?”

Obedient, he leans down to capture your lips in a quick but doting kiss, breaking with a soft wet click of exchanged spit.

Steve takes the towel from you, letting your hands rest on his waist as your eyes wander. While he silently lets his hair dry, you count every single mole on his face, the sepia glow of his faint freckles accompanied by the rivulets of shower drops down his cheeks, his curled eyelashes and his ample cupid’s bow that you can’t help but trace with a curious finger.

He puckers and you giggle, tracing the wet pinkness of his lips before you move on to press a chaste kiss to the button of his nose. Hands wander up to trace the dips of his collarbone, down to his thick chest that adorned the mousy tush of curls, radiant from the warm sun that shines his body alight; they explore every pudge of his stomach, to the grotesque, salmon scars on his sides from the interdimensional monsters that cause anything but peace.

Your hands still in observance, every uncanny ridge in the tendrils of healing flesh, the holes that shrink each day from the sharp teeth of the demobats. Steve sees your scrutiny, and a wave of insecurity drowns him as he swims beneath the undertow, head hitting the coral reef and arms injured.

“Hey,” he takes your chin in his hand, tilting your head up, but your hands linger on his scars. “Why’re you staring, huh?”

“Can’t I appreciate the beauty of my boyfriend?” you quip, fully resting your palms on them. He tries not to flinch but does anyway, though more out of surprise; you’ve only ever touched him above the scars. And if you did touch his waist (during hugs or kisses), it’d been over his shirt. Out of respect—he wasn’t entirely comfortable with you seeing them, or staring at them, but you couldn’t let it go on any longer.

Steve blushes, a twinge of pink coating his tan skin, his shyness making him refuse to meet your appreciative eyes. “You’re pretty,” you tell him, convince him. “And your scars are… really, really, hot,”

“Yeah?” he rubs your chin with his thumb. “Do you usually have a thing for beat up guys or are you just messed up?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, hands steering to his back to squeeze lightly on the thick flesh covering his spine. “I just have a thing for you, ‘s all.”

“Flirt,”

You snort. “Okay, Mr. My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. I’m the flirt, sure.”

The idea that you might kiss him again is stuck in his brain. And he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since before any other kiss; his mind surges through fierce divulgence, that that feeling of wanting to kiss you over and over again was driving him criminally insane. The notion of it continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites him to an unorthodox degree.

Steve stares at the rosy cordiform of your upper lip, mouth twitching to take it in his mouth.

Mind foggy, the perception of you finally touching his scars for the first time no longer scares him. You were never one to judge, anyway.

The air is thick, the residue steam from his previous shower seeps through the ajar door and the moisture of laziness sticks on your touching skins. It is Saturday, after all, what are you both doing standing in front of the bathroom instead of laying down doing other things?

“God,” Steve murmurs. You move your head back, tracing the dip of his spine with a finger, eyebrows pulled together with your lips tugged in an upside down smile. “I’m so in love with you,”

Your eyes widen. “Thank you?”

He laughs, like a soft, harmonious siren in your ear. “Do you always have to say ‘thank you’ whenever I say that?”

“Yes,” you lean closer, pressing your chest against his, droplets melting into your shirt, creating wet spots that make the color darker. “I don’t know what else to say!”

Steve’s eyebrows raise, eyes softening, taking your hands in his and grasping them tightly with his thumb slipping between the bumps of your knuckles. “Say you’re in love with me too!”

It’s desperate, almost. He kind of thinks you’re not in love with him, or not as in love as he is with you — if it had been the latter, he’ll definitely argue, or write an essay about how much he loves you more than you love him.

But anyway, the way you say ‘thank you’ floods the dam of his doubts. Loving someone is different from being in love with someone; Steve knows you love him, he just kind of needs reassurance.

“Aw, honey,” you bring your joint hands beneath your chin, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I’m in love with you, too,”

He wonders if you would have told him that if he didn’t playfully tell you to. Stupid thoughts. But you look like you meant it — it’s a cathartic waft on him, seeing the luster of candor in your eyes that look up at him. Steve’s body itches more for your touch, scars flaring for a kiss of aid, and he wants to hear you say it again.

And so: “Say it again,” his index drags across your jawline, the rest of his fingers still laced with yours into a fist. “Wan’ hear you say it again, please?”

You laugh, untangling your hands with his to wrap a finger around his lovelocks, and you say it again. “I’m in love with you, Harrington,”

He winces, eyes scrunched, driving his face away from you. “Say my name,”

“Steve,”

“Babe,” Steve untwines his hands from yours, only to splay his palms across your cheeks and cradles your head, tilting you up that the back of your neck aches. “You’re killing me here,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh breathlessly, placing your hands on top of his. “Might I cure you with a kiss, sir?”

Steve’s eyes flit between yours — wide, curious, two brown enamel buttons, sick, and in love; he nods no longer than a millisecond later, thumbs rough against the soft skin of your cheeks. “Okay,”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss him again, like two petal roses conjoined from the summer breeze of August; soft, sultry of hot breath and slick mouths, moans muffled.

Eager for more, Steve tilts your head to the side, slanting his lips with yours, mouth opened only to lock it together on top of your mouth, his satisfied hum that lets itself escape from the back of his throat takes you back to earlier this morning when he’d hummed his way to the kitchen to cook you breakfast —

You can still taste it, by the way: scrambled eggs and beans, with semi-burnt toast and your mixture of coffee that he claims was now his favorite, because he kissed it off your mouth before he drank your coffee. To save you the hard work from making a new one, he said, before he kissed your lips swollen.

Like now.

He’s hungry, like he’d been famished after you broke the kiss for a simple bathroom break. He swore he actually would have continued kissing you even as you sat on the toilet bowl. Steve would have knelt, just so he’d keep his lips pressed against yours. But he had to stop, eventually, you couldn’t breathe and neither did he, but only because he’s got the wind knocked out of him at the sight of you.

Lips breaking from wet snaps, his hand journeys down to cup your neck before he’s tracing the shape of your shoulders, pressing against your collarbone. Then he moves them down your arms to squeeze at the plump flesh of your biceps, down to your forearms. Steve’s finger traces the insides of your elbow, the hairs on your skin tickling his palm.

You let your own hands venture back around his waist, blunt nails scraping the lumpy cicatrix. Steve sighs against your lips, shivering, his head cocking to the side for a split second before they go back to kissing you.

“Steve,” you breathe out, hands swimming their way to his back to scratch your nails on his skin. You say his name with tender keenness, an acute bump swelling out his towel that pokes on your thigh. He hums, fully leaving your mouth to mushroom kisses across your head.

The dulcet susurration of his name was enough to make the blood rush down to his soft cock, the noises from the back of your throat had bordered from contentment to craveful. Steve removes his hands from your forearms, bending his knees so that he’d wrap his arms around your waist, pushing you close to his chest, hands splayed on your shoulder blades.

He inhales you, consumes you, wishes you’d melt against him so he’d keep you within him forever; lapses into a navel-gazing covetation, a sommelier that keeps feeding you everything he has and everything he wants to give you. The pathological urge to get to know you more, despite the fact that he knows every single molecule that keeps you whole, drives him insane.

Steve wears your initial on a chain around his neck, the pendant singeing his skin, burning his tawny skin until the golden letter melts on the space between his collarbone. He harbors it with pride.

“Baby,” you call him again, bringing his feet down to the ground. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” his mouth hovers over yours again, opening his eyes. “Fuck, yes, please. Didn’t have to ask, honey.”

In a swift motion, Steve’s being spun around and pushed, his soul gravitating from his body when he falls down to the bed, back meeting the soft covers. His hair bounces, no longer dripping but still damp, cold around his head.

You’ve got your lip tucked between your teeth and a cute smile on your face when you crawl on top of him, stopping until you’re kneeling on top of him, legs on either side of his torso with the swell of your ass abrades on his covered shaft.

“Getting aggro there, babe,” he jokes, his palms feeling up your sides, slipping them beneath your shirt to palm at your breasts, rolling your slowly hardening nipples between his fingers.

“I’ll show you aggro,” your eyebrows connect, head tilting back while your jaw slackens, grinding against him as he continues to fondle with you. “I’m gonna be straight forward and say I wanna suck you off right now, Steve,”

He laughs. “Go ahead, babe.”

You haul his hands from beneath your shirt, bringing them up to playfully snap your teeth on his fingers. Steve chuckles, watching you scoot back until you’re floating from his thighs, untucking his towel until they loosen, throwing them to the side.

While his towel stays beneath him, his cock springs up, aching pink tip bobbing down to his navel, a bead of precum falling down to the tush of curls above his length.

A sudden flush of puddle surrounding your tongue, you swallow thickly. Never had you thought the sight of a cock would entice you so much; cocks weren’t meant to be pretty, but Steve had a huge, thick, and pretty cock — an embodiment of pleasure and inebriation, of sweet nectar blessed upon the parched as they seep through the thin slit of his head; of the fat girth to silence your mouth to prevent all sins spat out between your lips.

The pit of fire in your eyes starves him. And when you finally let a trembling hand wrap around his veiny shaft, oh does he let out the most angelic sound of relief that rings inside your ears to wrap around your brain and tickle it.

You move backward, until you’re resting between his legs that part itselves to give you more access as you lay on your stomach. Your head hovers, mouth pursed to let a glob of spit fall down to his tip, falling down to his shaft and onto your thumb. Amalgamated with his precum, you use the gathered slick to lube him up, gyrating your wrists until his dick’s wet enough.

“Christ,” he lifts his head, an uncomfy ache on his spinal cord, but anything to see you. Your hand bobs, moving up and down his throbbing shaft. You look mesmerized, and what he finds so amusing is that you’re not even looking at his face; though, with the treacly feeling of your hand squeezing around him felt good. “Oh, fuck,��

The ink of his words blotch when it’s thrown out the window, all senses hazed and wrapped around you and just you, and the feeling of you and the touch of you. It’s spirituous, an unhealthy addiction, but alas — he can never get enough.

Neither did you.

Your mouth parts, wrapping your lips around his pulsating head. Steve groans, his head falling back, a hand that presses on his forehead and the other gathers your hair in a loose ponytail with his fingers as a tie, giving you more access.

When you suck, using your hand to give the rest of him the attention your mouth isn’t giving, he can’t fight back his whimpers. “Yeah, yeah fuckin- fucking suck my dick like that. Quit teasin’ me though, ‘s not funny,”

You playfully roll your eyes, lips still suctioned on his gummy helmet. You’re lapping your tongue on every inch of his spongy tip, pressing it flat on his slit, where the translucent liquid of his seed lathers on the middle of your tongue. Steve fights the urge to tug on your hair, or maybe push you deeper until he feels your throat close around him and your nose on his pubes.

“S-shit, y-yeah. Just like that- ohhhhh,”

When you pull back with a loud pop, you hope he doesn’t see how you embarrassingly gathered all the air in your lungs before you went and pushed his cock in your mouth in one go, but he was too distracted with the sudden overwhelming feeling of your mouth around him.

His tip’s right in your throat, blocking the airway, but you’ve done this more than a normal person should that you’ve learned how to breathe through your nose. Steve moans a bit louder, almost a mewl that mimicked yours when you’re in his place. You shake your head a little, nose right on the tush of curls above his cock, tongue flat beneath his shaft.

Finally, his grip tightens on your hair, his musk clouding your mind. You take his fat girth in your mouth with pride, heavy on your tongue and tangy on your taste buds. Your other hand that doesn’t grip tight on his thigh comes down to paw with his sack; the hot, loose skin being squeezed in your hand, and his hips jolt.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Steve bucks up into your mouth, the lewd sound of you gagging around him makes his lips twitch into a smile, feeling your cold spit dribble down to him and your neck. A wave of heat shoots down to your throbbing pussy, feeling the silk of your underwear dampen, ‘till your thighs go sticky and your knees turn foible.

You bob your head around his length, sucking your cheeks in, pressing your tongue up to append pressure, gagging, and you scrape your teeth ever so lightly on his loose skin the way he loves it. His low noises, borderline smutty, ring around the silence of the room.

Your cunt throbs, and when you fully lay down and use his cock as leverage to keep your head up, your ass raises, keeping your hand from his thigh to wedge it between your body and the bed to slip your fingers beneath your panties and rub your clit slowly.

Steve, whose eyes are on the verge of shutting, with his jaw slacked and his cheeks flared as well as his rising chest, sees what you’ve done, and fucks himself up in your mouth again.

You moan around him when your fingers move fast, harsh circles around your swell clit, grinding against your hand; your head moves faster on him too, oscillating on his cock, pulling back fully to see a tendril connection of your saliva to his dick. Steve lifts his head.

Before he could say anything, your lips trail heat from his length right down to his sack. Removing your hand, you take one of his balls into your mouth as you wrap your hand around his neck, gyrating your wrist on the base of him.

You roll your tongue on the loose skin, his balls growing wet with saliva that continues to pour heavily from your mouth; your fingers lose control, like a drunken hand rubbing you raw, yet you seem to know what you’re doing perfectly when it came to Steve’s dick — squeezing below his tip, moving fast on his length and a cheeky swipe on his small opening.

It felt incredibly gratifying to have your mouth full and your hands occupied simply to pleasure him, knowing you’re the receiving end of his saccharine mewls was enough to satisfy your needs yet it also wasn’t; you wanted more. You’re greedy, you’re yearning, and you’ve got every right to be so.

Steve is yours, after all.

Your hips jolt and rise from your jagged circles, you're pulling away from his sack with a loud pop before you try to take both of his balls into your mouth, suckling on the sticky skin.

The sounds of his moans are harmonized by your muffled whimpers and the slick sound of your hand jerking him off, coalesced with the gags and the heavy breaths from your ball-sucking, and the slight squelchy noise emitted from your pussy.

“Fuck, ‘y rubbing that pretty little clit, hm?” Steve musters up enough energy to prop himself to his elbows, caressing the sweat from your head, running his hand from your hair. You moan, your back arched, panties dampening and a small puddle forms beneath him from your saliva. “Dirty girl. Keep rubbing that clit for me, yeah? K-keep my balls in your mouth- shit- be all filthy for me.”

But luckily for you, Steve’s feeling generous. So despite his order, he’s leaning forward, the top of your head meeting his belly, suddenly feeling his warm hand squeeze the fat flesh of your ass, pulling one to the side. He pushes you closer, your body bending in an awkward fold, until his palm presses right on top of the wet patch of your panties.

It’s an ache you know will make your back hurt like hell, but when Steve pushes your panties to the side and slaps your hand away to rub fast figure-eights on your engorged clit, hand moving side to side, his arm almost a blur from his speed.

You break away from him to moan loudly, one of his arms hooking beneath your head as the other rubs your clit ‘till it burns pleasurably. You wrap a hand around his bicep, resting your temple on his hairy chest, trying to match his pace as you continue jerking him off.

“S-Steve,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, squeezing around his base that makes him moan. His palm slaps against your folds, rubbing it against your sticky folds. Your blunt nails are a vice on the tight grip you have on his bicep, the hand on top of your head pulling lightly on your hair. “Oh- fuck- fuck! Steve. That feels s-so— so good,”

“Yeah?” he cocks his head to the side. “Like it when I rub your clit while you jerk me off? Like it when daddy gives your cunt some attention, hm?”

Your legs raise, feet rocking, sweat forming in the heels of your feet. With a hand lazily pumping his throbbing length, you bury your lips on his supple flesh, eyes clenched shut to cry out his name like a hymn. Your thighs jolt, feeling the burn of his palm swim pleasures up from the lower half of your body to every single cell of your being.

“God, baby,” you nip lightly on his arm. “Wan’ wan you inside me, please. Please, please, please,”

When you look up at him, his mouth twitches to a smile and pulls his hand away. You fall to your back beside him, legs spread but your chest heaves heavily. Steve immediately slots himself on top of you, hooking his hand beneath your knee and lifts it so that your heel presses on the bottom of his spine.

He helps you take your shirt off in one go, almost ripping it from its seams. Steve dips down to take one nipple into his mouth as soon as the shirt’s gone; a hand on your waist and the other gripping the base of his cock and slapping his tip on your clit.

Lazily grasping his bicep, he presses his chest against yours. “I’m going in, yeah?” He kisses your cheek. “Think you can handle it, huh, baby?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah, fuck, I always do. Just- push it in, please?”

In one, single and slow thrust, Steve pushes inside. Your walls open, though tight around his length, your thighs rubbing against the gnarly damage on his skin, but your heels dig hard on his back, like it’ll help him go deeper. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt; until his heavy sack rests against your puckered hole, where he sees a light bulge on your lower belly.

And every single time Steve’s fucking you, there’s an overwhelming hurt on your lower body. It’s a pain you consider yourself used to, that sting expected once his head’s engulfed by your small hole. And he knows this, too, falling still against your chest when he sees the joint eyebrows on your forehead.

He kisses your forehead in quick, gentle pecks, hooking his arms in the pit of your biceps, propping himself up by his knees. When the affliction droops into a ripple of bliss, you sway your head to press your lips against his shoulder.

Taking this as a signal, Steve starts to move, slowly. The slow drag of his cock cleaves you open, a heavy feeling of rapture that bathes on your nerves brings you to seventh heaven. You moan lowly in his ear, a quiet squelch from below making your toes curl.

“You okay?” he pushes your hair aside, digging his nose on the slope of your neck, sucking gently.

You run your hands through his unkempt hair, pulling on the nape of his neck. The coarse shrub of dark curls above his dick rubs against your blushing nub, your legs trembling as they remain hooked around his back. When he pulls back, leaving just the gorged mushroom of his head, Steve thrusts in suddenly, hitting right at your cervix that makes you mewl.

He cups your jaw. “Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, yes, I’m okay.”

Steve sighs deeply into your flesh, fucking you slow. Too slow to be considered fucking– no, no he’s making love to you. When everything else falls, and you feel like you’re both lifting into the air and suddenly you’re making love in this lewd abyss of eternal devotion; when everything burns beautifully like runes carved into your skins, showing up slowly at each slow thrust he makes.

He takes your head into his hands, your own hooked beneath his armpits, pulling at the lump of flesh– thick and warm, neverending, compelling you to scratch and tug.

You feel his warmth in your cunt, his veins pressing up against every inch of your gummy heat. You let your eyes fall shut, head digging back, moaning when his balls slap against your ass.

And fuck, when Steve looks down at you, it’s like staring at a patron saint; he revels in your parted mouth of elation, your sweet pussy an arcadia to his aching cock that he continues to piston into you, knocking the air out of your lungs like a pistolwhip.

Your back arches, one of his hands travelling down to keep you against his chest so that he can continue hitting that sweet spot of yours that makes you cry prettily.

“Look so pretty, baby,” he says softly. “Look at you, taking me so well. Doing so good, hm? Kept you waiting for too long when I was in the shower? Just wanted me, yeah?”

When you whimper, he sees a tear threatening to fall right at the corner of your eyes, your weeping cunt making his movements faster– easier. “Steve!”

“I know, I know,” he pushes the astray, sweaty hair off your forehead, panting against your salty skin after he presses a soothing kiss. “‘s always too much for my baby, isn’t it? Too big for you?”

You shake your head. “No. No no, you’re– fuck– you keep me really full, Stevie. Love it so much…”

“You like it when I make love to you?” he bucks up harder, a loud, obscene and hollow squelch coming from your joint limbs. Your eyes open, though heavy as they glance down to see the glistening slick on the base of his cock that you see every time he pulls out. You clench around him, almost milking him from what he’s worth, trapping him inside you. “Oh, honey, I felt that. Like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Yes,” you lazily kiss his cheekbone, dragging your blunt nails on his back, painting his sepia skin pink. “Ohhh, shit,”

Steve kisses the tear off your eye, the salty liquid lathering all over the pad of his tongue. “You can cry, baby. ‘s okay. Come and cry for me, yeah?”

His eyes are sympathetic and proud; so doting and sickly sweet. Your toes curl, the coil twists tightly, and his heart pounds wildly against yours that makes your chest clench. You let tears fall down your cheeks, Steve kissing the tip of your nose every time you sniffle.

“M gonna cum,” you moan. “Please, baby, I wanna cum,”

“Me too, honey,” he lets his hips roll leniently, his belly just rubbing against yours, your nipples chafed from his chest hair. “Cum with me, yeah? Gonna take care of my sweet little angel. Fuck, god, I love you,”

When he shoots his warm seed inside your cunt, your orgasm coating his cock like alabaster paint, you both moan quietly into each other’s ears. You clench and clench around his cock, Steve grunting from the sensitivity. And after a couple more thrusts, he pulls out.

A lewd shlick is heard when he does so, watching as your joint spent seeps out of your heaving pussy. Steve groans, can’t help but bend down to place his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit.

You wince. “Steve. Sen- Sensitive,”

He pulls back. “I’m sorry, baby,” he chuckles, kissing your knee. “Couldn't help it.”

Ever the romantic, Steve bends back down to press his lips against yours, the sweet but with a salty twange taste of your orgasms coating your mouth when he shoves his tongue in. His palms press up to your knees and close them together, moving them to the side until he’s laying on top of your thigh.

You place your palms on his cheeks, pulling back. He smiles fondly down at you.

“I love you,” you say.

“I know,”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you ewok looking bitch,”

Steve gasps. “What’d I ever do to you?!”

You laugh, bringing your arms to his chest, and he can't help but mimic that same harmony of glee. Steve kisses your arm, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your sore muscle.

“Nothing,” you jest, tucking his hair behind his ear. “‘M just a bit tired,”

“Well, lucky for us, it’s Saturday,” he takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckle. “Dolce far niente, babe. We are not gonna do jack shit today but make love and sleep.”

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

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icequeenbae · 4 years ago

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Stay with Me (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Long-distance relationship, established relationship, grumpy Baek, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, upset sex (is there such a thing), oral (f receiving), consent is not explicitly stated but implied

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: Baekhyun was upset because you had to leave again. His frustration made things escalate to an unexpected extent. He might’ve just wanted to make you late for the plane though.

Let’s celebrate my first ‘writing comeback’ anniversary together ❤❤❤ [February 17, 2020 – forever]

Author’s Note: Soooo… This was actually the first fic I wrote after many years of my writer’s coma. Wasn’t going to post it, but it’s important to save the date. A year ago during a business trip I was listening to Baekhyun’s ‘Stay Up’ in the backseat of a cab, and it suddenly got to me in a very new and profound way. As soon as I got to the hotel, the doc was created. Countless sleepless nights later, I can admit that I haven’t really stopped writing ever since.

Baekhyun isn’t just my bias or my favourite character to write, he’s so much more special to me than that. I’m not sure how long this journey is going to last or where it leads me, but so far he’s gifted me with one full year of this magic. He’ll always have a precious spot in my heart 🤍

Okay, done with the sappy times now (no). As usual – big thanks to @baekshoney for having a look, and I hope you guys enjoy this little oneshot!

This was one of those days. One of the days you hated, and Baekhyun didn’t do much to make it better for you. On the contrary, he was sulking since early morning. First, because you’d left him alone in bed and he woke up being cold. Then he just kept getting annoyed with everything. Why were you having coffee for breakfast again, when you should sleep on the plane? Why weren’t you packing snacks, when the airport food always made your stomach upset? You should’ve definitely worn one of his hoodies, since none of yours were warm and comfy enough, did he have to remind you?

Yes, this was the day you had to fly back home, leaving him behind once again. Which was exactly what brought his tsundere ways to the surface. He was just… upset.

‘Baby, it’s not the first time I’m going home, I’ll be fine,’ you grinned at his grumpy expression and poured him a cup of coffee as soon as he sat his butt down on the kitchen stool.

Baekhyun wasn’t exactly subtle in how he felt about you going away. The two of you had been doing this ‘long-distance thing’ since the very beginning of your relationship. You’d met during your first ever trip to Korea around two years ago and instantly clicked – just like that – not spending a single day without at least a quick message exchange with one another.

It was tough at times. There was no way for you to see each other more frequently, and you were often apart for months. Granted, you were keeping in touch religiously – texting every single day, having video calls every other night (whenever you could manage the schedules and time zones), posting ambiguous pictures on social media only for each other to understand. Still, you missed each other so terribly…

‘I don’t understand why you have to go anyway, you can just stay here with me,’ Baekhyun grumbled, eyeing the kitchen floor with a frown. You pursed your lips to contain the coo about to fly out of your mouth at how cute he was, pouting and complaining. Like an angry little bird. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out your hand and ruffled his already messy bedroom hair.

The way his nose scrunched up meant he wasn't in the mood to be playful. You sighed and leaned on the corner of the kitchen table.

‘You know I have work to get back to, Bae, I can’t be on vacation all year long.’

He was being rather childish about your departure, especially when you were already fully dressed and ready to go. The only thing stalling you was that Chanyeol, who insisted on being your ride to the airport today, hadn’t come to pick you up just yet, giving you some time to smooth over your boyfriend’s feathers.

Truth be told, you were only holding up the appearances for him. It was very possible that you were even more upset about having to go than he was. In fact, every time your week or two together were nearing an end, you felt nauseous at the thought that you wouldn’t be able to see his face, or hold his hand, or feel his warm breath on your skin, or kiss the tiny mole on his cheek.

In all honesty, you were... a mess. You only displayed yourself as calm and collected during your goodbyes because you knew his moodiness was merely a tactic to conceal his pain. So, you tucked your own feelings away to make it a bit more manageable for him. In reality, you broke down as soon as you arrived home and walked into your lifeless apartment. Each time, you had to find excuses and avoid talking to him via video messengers during those initial weeks, pretending to suddenly be swamped at work. You realized that seeing your eyes all red and puffy from crying every night would most definitely break his heart and worsen his longing. That you knew, because seeing him unhappy was excruciating. You wanted more than anything to deliver him from any further suffering.

It took all of your self-restraint not to reach out for his warm embrace or let the tears flow freely. He’d probably not let you go then, always telling you to just stay with him anyways. But you were both adults and had commitments, although hundreds and thousands of miles apart.

As your eyes were beginning to prick from observing his state and getting overwhelmed with your own feelings, you decided it was safer to move out ten minutes early, despite the call from Yeol not coming through yet. Anything to not let Baekhyun see you cry or cling to him desperately the way you wished to in that moment.

‘Well, you can pout all you want, I’m going to get my stuff,’ you said in an airy tone trying to elevate his mood slightly.

‘No.’

He stopped you in your tracks, grabbing your wrist. You gazed at him, confused as to what he meant. He was still looking down, eyebrows knitted together and chest heaving with almost anxious breaths.

‘Bae?’

‘No,’ he repeated, softer this time, but still not making eye contact with you. Instead, he tugged at your wrist and pulled you closer to him. You felt his grasp weaken until your wrist was free, however, your waist was not. His arms snaked around it, and he pulled you into himself, basically nuzzling his face into your chest.

‘Baekhyun?’ You squeaked, doing your best to fight off the goosebumps that littered your skin immediately after the contact. Your body never once asked for permission to react to him, and this time was no exception. His right hand traveled down your spine to the curve of your ass as his nose nudged one of your breasts. You shivered, grabbing at his shoulders, and he suddenly growled, knowing, sensing that your nipples had already perked up underneath the fabric of your bra.

Although he was trying to put you into one of his many oversized hoodies all the time, it was summer, so you were wearing a sundress (like any sane person would). Lucky for Baekhyun, this type of clothing made it even easier for him.

He rose from his seat and hoisted you up so abruptly that you only managed to yelp and grab at his neck for balance. You were then placed on the empty side of the dining table away from the leftover breakfast. Looking down at where your boyfriend’s hands were, you watched him frantically pull your dress up, before coming to your senses and trying to stop him.

‘Bae… What are you doing? Yeol is gonna be here any minute, we can’t just f…ugh!’ You cried out in surprise as he yanked your hips forcefully up to his face, completely ignoring your words. There’s no way he was going to...

‘Baekhyunie, please stop, you know I’m going to be late, what is…’ He didn’t even let you finish your rant, leaving a trail of insistent wet kisses upon the sensitive skin along the panty line while leading up to your protruding hip bone. Breath caught up in your throat, you couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out even if you wanted to. Did you really want to? With his head right there between your thighs, his dark burning eyes looking at you – completely immobilized by him – in the most intense and intimate way possible. His lips were glistening after he ran his tongue over them habitually, and when he leaned in and licked at your still clothed center, you belatedly realized that you weren’t even breathing. The realization only came with the wheezing gasp you’d let out, when your legs wrapped around his head as if on cue. Like fuel to the fire, your responsiveness only spurred him on. You didn’t even have time to realize that your boyfriend had already moved your panties out of the way when his impatient lips were on you again.

‘B- Baekhyun…’ You muttered, reaching your hand down to give pushing his head away a feeble try. ‘We can’t do this now, please stop... the airport…’

His ears seemed deaf to your reluctant pleas as he only employed more of his tongue to make you lose the last bits of your sober mind completely, melting and thrashing underneath his touch. He eased one of your thighs off of his shoulder, pushing it up and spreading you out before diving back in, paying no attention to your increasingly disheveled state.

At this point you could only sob, speech incoherent, all attempts to push him away or close your legs futile. And that alone made him grow feverish with the need to be inside you, to feel you once again before he had to let you go.

He was really good with his mouth, as usual, so by the time one of his hands left your thigh to tease you a little further with his long deft fingers you were so ready to take more that you barely registered the burn of two digits sliding inside. You were still a little sore from the night before, which you’d spent making love for hours on end, knowing that you won’t be touching each other anytime soon. But that was meaningless now.

His tongue expertly swirled around your clit, while his wrist found a familiar angle that always made you get vocal. Your back arched instantly as you cried out his name, barely grasping that you were still tugging at his soft locks and possibly causing discomfort. It was clear that your release was mere seconds away with your legs shaking and inner muscles clenching, and that was exactly where Baekhyun wanted you. Aching for his touch, needing him as much as he needed you. Just the two of you, caught up in the act of lustful desperation.

He’d worked his tongue diligently, almost pushing you over the edge by sucking on your most sensitive spot for just a second, and... then you suddenly felt him pull away.

‘No, no- what?’ You could barely form sentences, let alone complain, but your frenzied tone made his already rock-hard flesh twitch. His pants were down in seconds, and there wasn’t even a thought of pausing to get a condom on or cool off a little bit. You were both on the verge of getting overwhelmed by this passionate longing when... your phone suddenly lit up, indicating an incoming call. Before you could snap out of the moment you were having, Baekhyun had you flat on your back, all slick and ready for him to push inside. And that he did — in one quick and rough movement, filling you up and giving you no time to even make a sound before his hips tested you out with a couple of low amplitude thrusts. The table moved slightly, soft clanking of tableware falling on deaf ears. Meanwhile, Baekhyun grabbed onto your hips, lifting your ass in the air for more control over the penetration.

‘Baek, I swear… You have like 2 minutes before Chan-’ A vicious thrust reached further than before, definitely getting your friend’s name out of your mind for good. And anything else for that matter.

Baekhyun snapped his hips as if he wanted to get as deep as humanly possible, as if he wanted to literally ruin you, and you could only scratch at his forearm while losing yourself in the feeling of his hips colliding with yours and the delectable sounds the action produced.

‘Baby,’ Baekhyun suddenly breathed out hoarsely, eyebrows knitted together as if in pain, ‘I can’t hold it off-’

Hearing his voice so strenuous and somehow vulnerable, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, spreading your legs further apart to allow him to better angle his powerful thrusts.

Your limbs were starting to grow numb and the veins on your neck popped when you moaned, and that’s when Baekhyun let out a strained ‘ah’, holding you in place by the hips to give you his erratic final thrusts.

In that moment you felt like something snapped inside you. Your core was tight around your lover’s cock, your body shaking in pre-orgasmic bliss, and you’d never experienced it this way. You felt so full and content in this moment when he was still moving his hips and groaning stiffly above you, riding out his high. There was nothing else he needed to do to take you along. The sensation of his warmth inside you made you pulsate, wailing so loudly that Baekhyun had to cover your mouth with his palm. He kept going for a bit to prolong your orgasm and let you slowly come back to your senses.

Your eyes stared vacantly at the kitchen ceiling and your throat was dry, although Baekhyun’s hand was still clasped over your mouth. When both of you managed to catch your breath, you just gazed at each other for a few long moments. You were so spent that you couldn’t even read the semi-blank expression on his face. He slowly slipped his palm off of your face, still hovering over your body.

‘Baekhyunie…’ You murmured, touching his cheek gently. He was usually lowkey annoyed whenever you went on to kiss the little mole on his face instead of his lips. This time, however, he only lowered his head further to let you do your thing. You pressed your lips to the tiny dot on his skin, leaning back onto the table to find his eyes with your own.

‘I love you,’ he suddenly whispered in a broken voice, then cleared his throat and started over. ‘I really want you to stay with me.’

It was… bittersweet.

You winced, feeling him pull out, and accepted his help sitting up. Holding your boyfriend close by the shirt, you nudged his nose with yours and looked up to his sad dejected eyes.

‘I know, Bae,’ your voice sounded as uplifting as you could manage. ‘I will find a way to come see you on tour in the next couple of months, I promise.’

Baekhyun was about to say something else if not for the sudden ring of his phone that made both of you snap out of your tiny little world.

‘Dang, I bet it’s Yeol. Pick up!’ You pushed your boyfriend towards the phone and eased down from the table, grabbing the tissues to clean up quickly.

‘Yes,’ Baekhyun responded.

‘Are you two fucking?!’ Your nose scrunched up at Chanyeol’s vulgar shout.

‘Yes?’ At this you paused and smacked Baekhyun’s pec for the shameless (yet truthful) response. ‘Whoa- feisty. Chanyeol-ah, better hang up before you hear her- Ow!’ He raised an arm to defend himself from your playful hits.

‘You realize that if you do not come down in ten you’re most likely missing the flight?’ You heard Chanyeol reply after a frustrated sigh.

‘Not a problem for m-’ Baekhyun was interrupted by your yell.

‘We’re gonna be down in ten, please check the fastest routes to the airport, Yeolie!’

You ran out of the kitchen barely catching Baekhyun’s grumbling as he repeated after you.

‘Yeolie. Why the hell does she even call you that. It’s not like you- What? Shut up, you bastard!’

You smiled to yourself. At least his friends knew how and when to mess with him. If you weren’t there… They got him. He'd be okay. And with that you were happy for now.

A/N:This piece was my reintroduction to writing, and I’d love to hear any type of comments you have^^ Thank you guys for all the interaction and amazing responses so far, I cherish each and every one of them. You're the best <3

#baekhyun smut #exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun x reader #icequeenbae fics #baekhyun scenario #exo baekhyun #exo smut #baekhyun #baekhyun x you #exo fanfiction #icequeenbae #stay with me #writing anniversary

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bangtancentricsblog · 4 years ago

Text

》 Unbeknownst to Jungkook, there is a rise in popularity for a particular human holiday, one of which leaves him blindsided and scrambling to find the absolute perfect gift for his one and only. They say food is the quickest way to a man’s heart but no one ever said it didn't work on women.

❒ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

❒ genre: fluff, established relationship, a dash of angst, and a pinch of smut

❒ alternative universe: fantasy, college/university, werewolf, witch,

❒ rating: 18+

❒ word count: 12.4 k+

warnings/disclosures: werewolf Jungkook, witch MC, kinda tsundere mc, cat shifters Yoongi and Yoonji, Fairy Jimin, Siren Taehyung, MC is on the bigger side!, Merman Seokjin, Elf Hoseok, Vampire Namjoon, friendly fondling from yoonji, heteroflexible/bicurious yoonji, boob talk, mc is not good at cooking, misunderstanding on jungkook’s part, baking mishaps, frazzled jungkook, not so helpful/helpful yoongi, half-hearted frenemies Jungkook and Yoonji, Jungkook cries a little, yoonji jumping to conclusion, sense8 references, harry potter references, killing eve reference, way too many allusions to sex, jungkook isn't a good at baking, always reliable Seokjinnie, chubby POC Bunny shifter OC, whiney JK and MC, ‘rich’ jungkook, not edited i tried to i really did, taste testers Jimin and Taehyung, SMUT is at the end, bad smut at the end, food play (mostly them getting turned on by feeding each other), fingering (ew why do we call it that? Finger blast sounds better lmao), cock warming-ish, tiny hints of a size kink, grinding, soft fuck, soft spanking, sappy endings

❀ this is part of the bangtan pastries valentine collab hosted by the lovely @suhdays, who also made my lovely banner 💖 make sure to check out the other fics as well, they’re amazing as are the other authors and please excuse any incoherent inconsistencies or misspelling as this fic was written over a many days and long hours ❀

main ml • AO3

His nose is cold, a weird thing to think about when a werewolf's body temperature literally runs higher than every other species. There’s a chill racing up his spine as he shivers reaching a lazy arm across the bed in search of your warmth only to come up empty. Jungkook finally cracks an eye open, pushing himself into a sitting position to see if you really are missing or you’ve only scooted to the very edge of the bed to escape his scalding body temperature. Though to his displeasure you are in fact missing, he’s running his hand through his hair and taking a deep breath before scrunching his feature. His nose is still cold, so he can't smell much, can only feel the slight sting of the frigid air as he breathes it in.

He hates the winter, all he can ever smell is the damp ground and the cold of the air. Funnily enough most werewolves loved winter since it gave them a break from their heightened senses, not Jungkook though, he couldn't stand not being able to smell you on his bed, in your house, on him. Your shared bedroom is extra chilly this morning raising goosebumps along his exposed skin, he’s tired, not having gotten enough sleep from the long night of studying he’d done the night before.

You’re a naturally early riser so he knows why you’re up, Jungkook however isn't exactly a morning person, never has been, especially on the weekend when neither of you have anywhere to be. He’s groggy as he pads down the hallway, a yawn stretching his mouth wide, another shiver wracking his body the closer he gets to the back of the house, it’s always been chillier there, it’s downright brutal in the winter time.

He isn't surprised when he finally comes to stand in the doorframe of the sunroom watching your figure drop what he’s pretty sure is mugwort in the bubbling cauldron. There’s this sense of domesticity watching you work, a luxury he couldn't afford as the two of you grew up. He can almost vividly remember the ugly way you’d scowl at him when he’d plop down in front of you brandishing scraped up hands or knees. A soft almost unkind reminder that he should be more careful and that next time he came in you wouldn't treat his wounds. He remembers thinking you didn't like him, maybe even hated him, so after a while (more like into his teenage years) he just stopped showing up. So you would imagine his surprise when you’d finally cornered him after his abrupt disappearance. His lips tug upward at the memory of you clumsily confessing your feelings to him before running off, never giving him a chance to properly convey his own feelings.

It’s weird for Jungkook to think that he’d almost let you slip through his fingers, his dumb teenage werewolf hormones had told him to just let you be. That you weren’t even one of his kind, so you wouldn't be worth it. He’d been so close to letting you get away, so close to letting you leave the pack when he’d taken his precious time working through his natural instincts (at least the ones he had then). How he’d almost brushed off your confession because there was no way cold, stoic you liked him. Impossible he’d thought, and then a week after he’d overheard your parents asking permission for you to attend a school away from pack lands. Away from the pack, away from your family, and away from him. The very thought twisted his stomach unpleasantly, making him nauseous as he thought of everyday life without you.

It was then that he knew he couldn’t let that happen, something about you leaving didn't sit well in his being. He couldn’t describe it then, after all a sixteen year old only understood the bare minimum of love and life and he knew even less than that. Somewhere in his mind rushing to your house at that moment had made sense, more sense than anything had in the short amount of time he’d had to process the information. He probably should’ve knocked before rushing into your house, maybe also knocked instead of flinging your room door open the way he had. The grin he wears grows wider as he recalls what he’d seen all those years ago. The rest is history, at least the embarrassing parts that he refuses to acknowledge. He doesn’t regret the way your relationship had started, especially not after almost seven years of dating. Hell, he considers himself lucky that you even stuck around this long because truth be told Jungkook could be a handful, like now for example.

“Is that my sweater?” he asks, watching amusedly as you jump nearly spilling an entire vial of pixie dust. Your hand has gone to your chest to calm your racing heart as it beats harshly against your ribs, scowling as you think of how you hated that he was so light on his feet.

“I couldn't find an apron, and it’s cold.” you say rubbing at your nose with sweater pawed hands before sprinkling some of the pixie dust into the cauldron.

“Y’know I don't like when you brew in my clothes, the smell sticks for too long.” he sniffs, still only feeling the cold sting of the air.

“I know.” you mutter not once glancing in his direction, only reaching out to take a jar of snake venom from the array of ingredients lining the counter space beside you.

“What are you making anyways and on a Saturday?”

“Vitality potion, for extra credit.” he hums to himself content with just watching you finish up your work which really doesn't take long. You add a few drops of mint sighing contentedly while you put out the fire with a simple incantation. Jungkook watches as you rub at your eyes and easily close the distance between you, your arms wrap around his waist as you nuzzle into his chest relishing in his warmth. A muffled ‘m’tired’ slipping past your lips and tickling his chest where they press to his skin. He hums his reply, hands slipping down your sides pulling soft sighs from you as he slips them under the hem of your hoodie to press chilled hands to your warm hips.

You squeal, trying in vain to wriggle away from him as he muffles his laugh in your neck. He’s quick to pull your body close, before lifting you over his shoulder, hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs to keep you steady. Your giggles are almost manic as you laugh all the way to the bedroom where he proceeds to take full advantage of this early Saturday morning.

Monday morning comes way too soon, and you’re once again seated at a table of your favorite on campus cafe. Though much like always Jungkook is being clingy, scenting your neck while you kill some time before your first class. The frappe you ordered sits untouched, the slush goodness melting into a mess of almost coffee flavored water. It’s a waste of money if you don't drink it now, although you’re also sure Jungkook will polish it off should you leave it be.

“Please stop making people uncomfortable.” you sigh, pressing a palm to his face to push him away before he can bury it back in your neck.

“I’m not making people uncomfortable.” he says with a confused furrow of his brow as he casts a glance around the cafe to catch these so called uncomfortable people. He doesn't see anyone other than a couple of baristas who refuse to make eye contact even with the way his gaze is burning holes into the side of their heads. You don't look the slightest bit amused as you narrow your eyes at him, waiting a beat then two only to realize he really doesn't know. Your heart skips a beat, ‘stupid heart’ you think as it continues to do so the longer he remains oblivious. It’s moments like this that make you think that being with Jungkook is like having a big dumb dog, except you absolutely adore the shit out of him, amongst other things.

He quirks his head the slightest as your brows pinch further together the longer you stare at him, further reminding you of his canine counterpart. There’s this flutter in your tummy, the butterflies that have long since taken residence awaken fluttering about and fanning a flame that is slowly growing, traveling to your face and warming your cheeks. Stupid heart, stupid butterlies, stupid Jungkook and his big stupid beautiful eyes, you curse mentally finally ripping your gaze away from his. It’s all a little too much, so your best course of action is going to class early, you decide standing and making to leave only for his grip on your hand to tighten, one that you had forgotten about.

“Gimme a kiss.” he says around a smirk, it heats your cheeks further as you work to calm the rapid beat of your stupid heart as it bangs against your ribs. You’re almost expecting for your chest to burst open or your heart to spontaneously combust. Luckily neither of those happen as Jungkook leans in close pressing a soft peck to your lips before moving to deepen it. He’s gentle in coaxing your lips apart, much better than your first kiss, taking his time tasting you as he always does...at first. He’s squeezing one of your tight clad thighs in his big hands, a sigh almost slipping past your lips as the warmth of his palm sinks through the material. You pull away abruptly, eyelids fluttering before blinking a few times to clear the sudden haze that clouds your vision. Next to you Jungkook is whining trying his hardest to pull you back in for another kiss, that sly dog.

“I’ll see you later.” you say pressing one last barely there kiss to the corner of his mouth, almost tripping over the threshold on your way out. His gaze follows your figure until you turn the corner disappearing from his sight. He sighs heavily, it’s laced with undertones of fatigue as he reaches for your unfinished frappe.

“You guys are gross.” Yoongi breathes, taking a seat opposite Jungkook. Jimin takes your seat, as Taehyung and Hoseok follow. Hoseok takes the empty seat beside Yoongi while Taehyung pulls up a chair from a neighboring table.

“You’re just jealous my girlfriend is hotter than yours.”

“Sure kid, you go ahead and believe that.” he almost sneers.

“Why are you here so early?” Jimin asks steering the conversation away from girlfriends for now. He’s yawning suddenly, reminded of how little sleep he’s gotten today, school was the worst.

“I came with ____, can’t have her coming all alone y’know.”

“Isn't your first class at the same time as her last?” Yoongi chimes in before asking Taehyung to get him an Americano as the younger man walks over to the counter.

“Yeah, and what?” he sniffs a little defensively.

“It was just a question.” Yoongi deadpans.

“Don’t you and your satan spawn of a twin share all your classes with ____?”

“No, we have classes together Tuesdays through thursdays.” he supplies easily, leaning back in the chair.

“Why not all week?” Hoseok asks in a tone filled with genuine curiosity.

“Monday and Fridays are the hardest days to get out of bed, duh.” he says almost matter of factly and they have to agree with Yoongi on this one. Monday is truly the worst day of the week, though it's now that Jungkook notices the absence of the previously mentioned satan’s spawn. He almost bristles, thinking that Yoonji might be out there somewhere harassing his sweet little girlfriend.

You scream, startled by the sudden weight that presses itself to you, a giggle like purr filling your ears before you relax. Yoonji’s hair brushes your cheeks softly, her arms wrapping around your frame and you squeak at the feel of her hand cupping your chest through the hoodie you wear. It’s a usual occurrence, though no less embarrassing as she continues to snuggle closer to you.

“Did your boobs get bigger?” she asks nose nudging against the soft pudge of your cheek, you know she’s scenting you, her way of messing with Jungkook later when she can’t physically be there.

“No, please stop.” you sigh, feeling a gentle squeeze followed by a soft breathy moan, heat erupting across your cheeks in embarrassment. She snickers giving your ample chest one last squeeze before finally moving away. She falls in step with you, walking along the path, snow crunching underfoot before moving to speak again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly do you like about Jungkook? I mean sure he’s great, not really, and all but really what is it? Is it his dick game because other than you I don't really think he’s ever been with anyone else.” She asks stuffing her hands in her coat pockets to stave off the slight chill that has zapped all the warmth from her fingers. There’s a brief pause in her thoughts as she wonders if Jungkook uses your impressive rack as the natural hand warmers they are, the lucky bastard she thinks with a scowl.

“I don't know, all of him.”

“That’s too vague an answer, like if I were to ask him what do you think he’d say he likes about you?”

“That I’m just so cute.” you answer almost immediately hands cupping your cheeks as if to further prove that you are in fact cute. The scrunch to her nose is adorable, squishing her already delicate features, as you smile softly at her and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Not that cute, but to each their own I guess. I’ll see you later yeah?” she asks, turning on her heel to walk in the direction you had just come from.

“I’ll be there.” You call after her watching as she raises a single hand to show you she’d heard you.

Yoonji is sliding onto Hoseok’s lap with all the grace of the satan spawn she is, easily wrapping a single arm around his neck and taking a sip from your abandoned frappe. She hums around the straw gaze trained on Jungkook’s bewildered expression, it brings her immense pleasure to see him so distressed.

“Why are you here and what do you think you’re doing?” Jungkook asks, snatching the drink back.

“It was only a sip you’re overacting, besides it’s mostly water now anyways.” She scoffs feeling Hoseok wrap his arms tighter around her waist pulling her closer to him.

“You don’t understand, now my poor ____ has indirectly kissed you. She’s been tainted by your nasty germs, Hobi do something!” Jungkook whines cheeks flushing an unhealthy shade of red, it’s almost endearing how childlike that is of him.

“I don’t think I can do anything, since it’s already happened.” He replies easily long since used to antics and strange rivalry between his girlfriend and Jungkook. Yoonji licks her lips mischievously snickering before shooting a somewhat sultry gaze at Jungkook.

“Hmm, can I ask you something Junglebook?” she says.

“No, in fact I would very much enjoy it if you never spoke again. Yoongi how did the two of you share a womb?”

“I don't know, it just happened, what were you saying Yoonji?”

“It’s not my fault you prefer the fossil over there over me. I’m literally amazing, anyways what do you like about ____?” she asks, ignoring Yoongi’s muttering and the somewhat awkward silence that has settled over the table. Jungkook to his credit doesn't blow this out of proportion as he usually does, so she watches as he sits quietly hands wrapped around the cup. This time there’s a slow flush of color flooding his cheeks, it’s kind of cute in a weird ugly kind of way. It’s not like she found Jungkook particularly attractive, but she guesses she could, maybe if the boy next door was her type.

“I don’t know, she’s just really cute, she looks tiny compared to me, and I don't know, all of her?” the flush has spread to his neck and ears, a look she has to say she’s never witnessed before. Again cute in a gag her romcom kind of way, she would be sick if you hadn't already prepared her for his answer. She still fakes a gag either way destroying the warm bubble he’d created with all his mushy sappy feelings.

“You’re so lame, no wonder you didn't have friends in high school.” she laughs before planting a kiss to Hoseok’s cheek.

“You guys were my friends in high school.” he says, brows pinched together an ugly glare directed at Yoonji who has begun ignoring everyone, so that she can whisper to Hoseok.

“Ignoring Satan and the literal walking ball of sun, what are you doing for Valentine’s day?” Yoongi asks, sounding mildly irritated at the topic he himself has brought up.

“That’s like two weeks away, what does it have to do with us singles?” Jimin laughs resting his chin in an open palm.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have plans.”

“Valentine’s day is for girls, and again I’m single what would that do?”

“What are you doing for Valentines day Jungkook?” Yoongi asks, turning his gaze to Jungkook who has sat silently from the start. The expression he wears is of confusion, brows pinched as if he were sitting in on a pack meeting full of boomers that didn't understand the world of today.

“Jungkook?” Jimin says catching Jungkook’s attention.

“What is that?” he asks timidly, again silence settles over the group all of them wearing a different expression. It’s broken by Yoonji who literally looks like the cat who ate the canary, it’s truly disgusting and he wishes he never has to see it again.

“Are you serious, you don't know what Valentine’s day is.” she snickers, a little too happily for Jungkook who remains just as confused as he had been before.

"Your girlfriend is human." Jimin says just as unhelpful.

"She's a witch, not a human." he reminds them.

“Witch still lands on the human side of the spectrum.” The conversation is going in circles, he thinks feeling irritation creep into him at the way they all continue to discuss your race.

“Can we please keep this conversation moving? What is Valentines day?” he asks, letting just a tiny bit of irritation seep into his tone.

“It’s a human holiday, made for couples to celebrate love.” Taehyung says, adding to the conversation for the first time this morning and suddenly reminding everyone of his presence. He shrugs off their stare, instead gathering his things and leaving them just as easily as he had joined the conversation.

“Why is a human holiday so important all of a sudden? It isn’t anything like the summer solstice right?” Yoonji looks more and more amused the longer they stay on the topic, lips curling upward into a smile that is both haunting and sort of breathtaking in a sinister steal your soul kind of way. He shivers, deciding then that he’ll pray to the moon goddess for Hoseok’s sanity.

“God you really are out of the loop, poor doggy.” Yoonji laughs sliding into the vacant chair but making sure it’s pressed as close to Hoseok as possible.

“Hoseok, please.” Jungkook breathes, maybe it’s the fatigue that is allowing Yoonji to annoy him quicker than usual or maybe she’s just testing his patience more than usual. Either way he’s distracted by Jimin clearing his throat, always playing the peacekeeper.

“You’re right, it isn't like the summer solstice but for some reason the girls like it. I think humans traditionally give chocolate, small gifts, or do other romantic couple things. This is usually the day most people confess feelings to someone, it’s actually really popular nowadays. I think even my parents celebrate valentine's day.” Jimin says the last bit more to himself than to the others.

“Wait, so do you guys give girls chocolate?” he asks, genuinely interested.

“No, I’ve had people give me friendship chocolate before.” Jungkook can’t seem to wrap his head around the whole chocolate thing at least not right now. Still he wonders if you would like to receive a gift from him. He listens intently as Yoongi and Hoseok talk about a course they’re taking seemingly having forgotten the prior conversation with the departure of Yoonji and Jimin who share an astronomy class.

He’s not forgotten about the conversation later that week while he sits on Jin's couch killing time before he goes home after all you texted him earlier saying that you’d be studying in the library and not to wait up. Jin had been filling him in on the show that’s been playing for the last two hours, one based on eight individuals who all share a birthday and somehow a weird mental connection. Truth be told Jungkook has been staring listlessly at the screen the colors long since blurred as his eyes have lost focus, hazy blobs moving this way and that. The sound has been drowned out almost as if the volume has been turned down while he thinks.

“- Riley to me is the least useful of the cluster, don’t you think?” Jin asks, Jungkook hums along not really hearing what his friend has said.

“Whispers isn’t really a bad guy, and neither is Rajan’s dad, right?” he says this time watching intently as Jungkook hums again leaning further into the couch.

“Jungkook, seriously you aren’t even watching it.”

“I am, Sun is in prison and Joongki must die.” he mutters, blinking a few times before turning his gaze to meet Jin’s.

“What’s wrong, if you’re tired you should go home and get some sleep.” Jin huffs leaning back into the recliner.

“Not tired, just thinking.” he says unconvincingly around a yawn that stretches his mouth a little too wide, suddenly reminding Jin of a lion. They sit in the relative silence for a brief moment, the sounds of another fight scene playing in the background drags Jin’s gaze back to the TV.

“What are you doing for valentines day?” he finally asks, he feels his lips twitch at the way Jin is quick to pause the show.

“Why? Are you going to tell me how much you love me?”

“No, it’s just my first time hearing about it.” he mumbles pouting slightly. Jin wonders how this boy was going to lead a pack when he’s such a child, then again he doesn’t understand werewolf hierarchy all too well.

“Are you planning to celebrate it?” Jungkook stills, once again wondering if you would be happy to receive chocolate as the others had mentioned.

“I don't know maybe, do you think ____ would like it?” Jin can hear the uncertainty in Jungkook’s voice, and for some odd reason he wants to laugh. He shouldn't because it’s rare for Jungkook to really share his feelings with someone that isn't you. Instead he asks himself the same question, would you be happy if Jungkook gave you a gift. It’s hard to imagine with you being reserved and all, but he thinks that you might, if it was behind closed doors in the safety of your own home.

“Yeah, I think she would.” And his answer is worth it he thinks as he watches the way Jungkook’s eyes twinkle with determination at the prospect of surprising you. When Jungkook goes home that night he spends a little too much time doing what he calls ‘research’ completely ignoring the course work that sits beside his laptop on his desk.

The weekend has come again and Jungkook is more than tired between school, and trying to find the best kind of gift he’s stumped and a little miserable. It had snowed again, covering the roads that had already been cleared, what’s more is that you have virtually moved into the library the last week. He’s seen less of you in the past week than he has his whole life, which just makes him more irritable as he drags himself out of bed, hoping, no, praying that you are home today. It’s Saturday after all, and you should be here in bed cuddling him, but you aren’t so he thinks you might be in the sunroom again brewing more potions. He finds it empty, not a single sign that you had been there at all by now he’s beginning to worry.

Slowly he pads back down the hall stopping briefly when he catches a soft almost muted sigh. He recognizes it almost instantly, his gaze falling to the couch as he rounds it to find you curled up underneath a thin lap blanket. You look so comfortable he doesn’t have the heart to move you, so instead he opts for something a little different. Jungkook is quick to leave returning with a heavier blanket and a pillow before he’s slipping his body into the tiny crevice you’ve left between your body and the back of the couch. He’s almost sighing at the way you unconsciously snuggle closer to his warm, he pulls you in closer, tucking your body as close to him as possible but also keeping you both comfortable in the limited space. His eyelids begin to flutter, the past weeks exhausting catching up with him now that he’s found ultimate comfort with you.

When Jungkook wakes again he’s on his back, his pinky finger just barely skimming the sliver of skin exposed by the way your shirt has ridden up. You’ve yet to awaken, brows furrowed in your sleep, your face relaxes when he nuzzles the crown of your head. He cherishes these quiet moments, not that he didn't all the others but these were his favorite. Enjoyed the naturalness of it all, like this you weren’t hiding from others, you weren’t reserved, you were just yourself and he liked that. He briefly wonders what time it might be, when he feels you begin to stur, it always starts off slow. You sigh softly a single puff of air leaving your nose, then you nuzzle into what would usually be your pillow but today it’s Jungkook’s chest, next comes the twitch of your fingers followed by the stretch of your arm, hand seeking the warmth that is usually Jungkook beside you. Instead your hands tangle in the softness of the blanket pulling it closer softly knocking him on the chin as you snuggle into the comfort.

“____, baby it’s time to get up.” he murmurs voice husky from disuse.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Gotta make us some breakfast.” he sighs feeling you shift further before you sit up, your eyes are half lidded, hair mused. The long sleeve your wear is slipping off one of your shoulders, you’re blinking sluggishly, gaze still unfocused but at least you're awake now. His hands find purchase on your thighs, squeezing them slightly so that your gaze meets his.

“You awake yet baby? Need some help?” he asks watching the way you frown down at him before shaking your head, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. His heart squeezes in his chest, a slow heat swirling low in his belly the longer you straddle him. You shift your weight as you stretch, back arched in a way that pulls his gaze to your chest, through the thin material he can make out the stiff peaks of your nipples. There’s a twitch of his fingers as he restrains himself from feeling the soft weight of them in his palms, but there are other things troubling him at the moment. Mostly the way he can feel the heat of your pussy through the thin material of panties as you settle more of your weight on his crotch.

“Breakfast?” you ask, the single word is enough to drag his thoughts back to something fluffy, something softer, less deprived. He squeezes at your thighs again sitting up to press a kiss to your cheek before sliding you off his lap and intertwining your fingers as you follow him to the bathroom.

Jungkook is humming as he sways at the stove chuckling as you squeeze your arms tighter around his waist when he stops swaying. It’s odd for you to be this openly affectionate, even here in the safety of your home mostly because he likes to take advantage of the situations persuading you to do things he would rather keep to himself. Still he can’t say he isn't enjoying himself, at least he was until he hears the door fly open and the telltale muttering of one Min insufferable Yoonji. Your grip tightens further as you press yourself closer almost as if you’re trying to hide from her, but that doesn't make sense, as much as he hates to admit it you two are super close.

“What are you doing?” she asks, and just her tone makes him pause.

“Making breakfast.” he replies before he hears a scoff.

“I wasn't talking to you Junglebook, ____ what are you doing, you were supposed to meet me three hours ago.” she sighs as you whine pathetically against Jungkook’s back rubbing your face into the soft material of his shirt.

“I can’t hear you.”

“M’tired, don't wanna go.” you cry and Jungkook feels heat rush to his cheeks at the tone you use, it reminds him of the way you sound when he’s balls deep in you. He really shouldn't be thinking of that, especially not with that thing you call your best friend around.

“This was your decision, I’m just there for moral support. Now let's go before I catch whatever disease Jungkook carries.” she sniffs, narrowing her eyes when you don’t budge.

“Can’t you at least let her eat breakfast before you drag her away?” Jungkook asks, moving the grilled cheese to the cooling rack glaring at Yoonji over his shoulder. She sighs heavily but silently agrees as she takes a seat at the kitchen island. He can hear the clicks of her keyboard as she typed something into her phone followed by the swoosh of her message being sent. Briefly, and just briefly he wondered who the hell would want to talk to her so damn early. Though he can’t really call afternoon early now can he.

You look sleepy when you’re finally ready to leave after having eaten your weight in bread, cheese, and butter, a look he absolutely adores. Yoonji is standing in the open door typing on her phone again, ignoring the flowery atmosphere that blankets the two of you like some cliche shoujo manga. The way you smile up at him makes his heart flutter, a pleasant wave of warm slowly makes its way through his body as you hug him and he’s planting a kiss to the crown of your head not so subtly scent marking you. It’s only when Yoonji makes an exasperated sound do you two pull away.

“See you later, be safe.” he says smiling in a way that makes your tummy flutter.

“I will.” you almost sigh before Yoonji glares at him once more and pulls you along. With you gone, he has nothing else to do than to look through the possible gifts options he’d bookmarked. There’s so many things to chose from, gourmet chocolates, edible arrangements, teddy bears, flowers, jewelry, spa days, sex? It’s all so much, he’s saved so many links it’s a folder that he’s pinned to his bookmarks bar on his search engine. Maybe he should ask for help, Yoonji wouldn’t help him even if he asked nicely while on his knees, but perhaps Yoongi and Seokjin would. He has to take that chance, and pray to the moon goddess that they’ll offer their insight.

“I can’t help you.” Yoongi says after Jungkook has gathered the most reliable of his friends.

“Why not?”

“Prior engagements, and this if your girlfriend. You should know what she’d like, let me know what you go with.” he says, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck and leaving the oldest and the youngest together.

“Jin please tell me you’ll be more helpful than Yoongi.” he whines, and Seokjin takes pity on him because as much as he hates to say it, he looks like a kicked puppy.

“I can try but it really depends on what you think ____ would like the best.” Jungkook beams at Jin’s willingness to help even if he doesn’t promise anything. He’s quick to pull open his laptop, opening one too many links that have both their heads spinning. Jungkook’s because he’s just so excited to surprise you and Jin is mostly amazed at Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. He switches through tabs, scanning over the things Jungkook has chosen, truth be told he’s not sure if any material items would be any good. He also doesn't like the ridiculous price listed beside the edible arrangements and gourmet chocolates, absolutely gawks at the price next to the jewelry. It’s not like Seokjin doesn’t know what kind of family Jungkook comes from, sure werewolves were a dime a dozen but not Jungkook, he was from one of the founding packs and in being so he was more than well off and that came from a literal prince of the sea such as himself. Still he wonders what kind of craftsmanship could be worth that much, or did Jungkook not care about price? He wants to laugh at the sheer absurdity that is the younger and his lack of care for things such as this, but he supposes that was where he came in.

“What did you have in mind?” Jin asks hesitantly, almost dreading the conversation.

“I don’t know a little of everything.” Jungkook answers sheepishly.

“A bit of everything.” Jin repeats already appalled at the idea. “Maybe you should stick to one, how about flowers?”

“____, do you think she’ll like them?”

“I don't know, i’m sure she’ll be able to use them in her potions.”

“Nevermind, not flowers. Then maybe jewelry?”

“Does ____ wear jewelry?”

“Not really, she doesn’t like being too flashy.” he mumbles.

“What about chocolate?” Jin finally asks, skipping over all the other options for fear of prolonging this dreadful conversation.

“That’s perfect, I should order it right now.” he beams, reaching for the laptop in Seokjin’s grapes but coming up empty when Jin scoots away from him.

“Or, and this is just a thought, but why don’t you make it yourself?” it’s posed as a question, though to Jungkook it sounds more like a statement, a suggestion if you will. One that he doesn’t think sounds too bad after all how hard can making chocolate be? He smiles at Jin, in a way that lets Jin know that it’s finally over. But boy was he in for a trip.

Jungkook had dragged Jin to the closest supermarket, throwing every bar of chocolate into the cart that he could find, even including other ingredients. After the supermarket they’d gone to a craft store for silicone molds, he’d even stopped at a small variety store for what he called cuter molds, because the ones from the craft store were too plain. Truth be told Jin wasn’t too sure what Jungkook would do with all that he had purchased but he knew he’d find some adequate guinea pigs for Jungkook. The younger thanks him with a meal followed by a brief goodbye before heading home to start the process of chocolate making.

As it turns out chocolate making isn’t too hard, but there’s something unsatisfying about melting premade chocolate and filling molds. It’s okay Jungkook supposes as he demolds yet another batch of half strawberry half milk chocolate rilakkuma molds. There are a few more trays of chocolates, some have pocky others have nuts but he’s still dissatisfied paying no mind to them as he dumps the finished chocolates into a tupperware instead of the box he’s intended to pack them in. This was supposed to be a test run, a successful one if they asked him but one that left him thinking that it wouldn't be enough. He heaves a heavy sigh as he finishes pulling the chocolate from the molds, moving to seal the tupperware that held them.

He’s decided then as he’s stacking the containers in a canvas bag that he’s going to Jin’s again he needs more help, but before that he needs to clean up so that you won't come home to this mess. He also doesn't want to risk you finding out what he’s planned as a surprise, he’s so focused on the task at hand he doesn't hear the door. Much less the way you and Yoonji speak animatedly as you make your way further into the house.

“Jungkook what’s this?” you ask giggling the slightest as he flinches at the gentle hand you place on his shoulder. His shock is quickly replaced by something gentle, something that has your brow furrowing. Maybe it’s the way he widens his eyes as he turns his body to face you properly, he used to do this a lot when he was trying to hide something from you back when you were kids. This faux innocent look got him in more trouble than you can remember and you don't like it, especially now.

“Hey baby, I didn't know you’d be home so soon.” he says wrapping you up in a hug. You squirm in his hold trying in vain to get him to loosen his hold on you, which makes you all the more suspicious of what he might be hiding.

“Jungkook, please.” you murmur a little confused as he continues to evade your question from earlier.

“I’m going to Jin’s for a bit. I'll be back with some take out is that okay?” he says instead grabbing the bag and heading for the door. You stare after he’s gone, a little more than confused at what has just transpired.

“Is he going to bring enough for three?” Yoonji asks from her place on the couch the tv playing a reality show you don’t particularly enjoy.

“Why is Hermione always out of breath? It’s like she’s always on the brink of hyperventilating in every scene.” Yoongi asks as he sits beside Jin, a half confused half annoyed expression sitting pretty on his face. To his credit at least he isn't hyper analyzing other aspects of the film, ones that he knows are a lot more pressing than Hermione’s inability to catch her breath. So you would imagine how relieved he is to get the door after a series of knocks, even more relieved to see Jungkook if only for a moment. Jungkook to his credit doesn't look any less different than he did earlier in the day, in fact he looks normal? Maybe he should be worried that Jungkook looks significantly less excited than he was mere hours ago. Jungkook thrusts the bag at Jin before throwing his weight down on the couch beside a very amused Yoongi.

“What is this?” Jin asks, a little too hesitant before recognizing his ‘como se llama’ eco friendly bag.

“Chocolate.” he answers quickly but a little too quietly while Yoongi perks up at the prospect of free candy.

“I thought you said you didn't have my bag,” Jin says pulling out one too many containers “are these my tupperware?” Jungkook remains silent, gaze settled on the tv as Yoongi pulls open one of the tupperware.

“What’s with all the chocolate, kinda cutesy don’t you think?” Yoongi comments offhandedly popping a few pieces into his mouth with a hum.

“They were for ____.” Yoongi pauses mid chew, turning his attention to the younger.

“Why would you give us candy meant for your girlfriend?” he asks around a mouthful of strawberry chocolate hearts.

“It was practice, I didn’t wanna give her homemade chocolates after all.” he sighs, turning his gaze to Jin who still stands beside Yoongi who continues to eat the chocolate.

“Do you have a backup plan?” Jin’s gaze falls to Yoongi who posed the question, he’s glad he wasn't the one who asked. He watches in a weird mix of concern and amusement as Jungkook’s eyes glaze over before he whines.

“No,” he all but sobs looking up at Jin with a tremble to his lip “what if ____ hates me because i didn't give her anything.” It’s so hard to hold in his laughter, Jungkook was being a little dramatic.

“There are other things you can make besides chocolate y’know.” Yoongi sighs, setting the bowl on the coffee table and finally pausing the movie after all he really likes the scene where Harry realizes the patronus he saw was his own.

“Why not bake her something, there are plenty of pastries that use chocolate.” he offers, ignoring the way both Jungkook and Jin gawk at him.

“Is hell freezing over, are you actually offering to help?” Jin gasps a little too dramatically, it makes Yoongi scowl.

“No, you ugly I won't be helping but I might know someone who can.” beside him Jungkook makes a choking noise, one that has both of them casting their gaze in his direction.

“Thank you so much Yoongi, I’ll give you my first born.”

“Keep it, I’ll have enough of my own.” he says, scrunching his nose at the thought of Jungkook’s kids. Jin on the other hand is grumbling at the level of disrespect from a solid 8 when he was in fact a 10, a 10!

“Go home, I’ll text you the information later.” he sighs trying to pacify Jin who continues to list all that makes him a 10 and Yoongi an 8. He does as he’s told, trying his best to slip out so as not to be lumped in with Yoongi even though he was feeling grateful for his hyung. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he’s scowling down at the sole message that lights up his screen.

my moon ♡

➣ don’t forget the takeout, plus extra Yoonji is here :)

He supposes he can deal with Satan just this once, he’s got a good feeling about this.

Jungkook is feeling overwhelmed to say the least, it’s Wednesday and he’s suddenly swamped with course work. To add insult to injury he hasn’t heard a single word from Yoongi who has also somehow gone missing for the last three days following their conversation over the weekend. He’s so tired he’s thinking of skipping his only class for tomorrow, what’s worse is that valentine's day is a week and a half away now and he’s still very much at square one. Luckily he’s at home so he’s free to let out a tear or two of pure frustration, he curses Yoongi for lying to him. What's worse was that he played nice with the she-demon too! Maybe he’s overreacting, there are worse things than not having giving you a gift for some stupid human holiday. Still though, he wanted to make this one memorable, even if it ended up being the only one you celebrated together. Hell you aren’t even here, he’s sure you’re doing it on purpose now.

How much extra credit could one person need, especially when you were one of the top students in your field. If push came to shove he would drag you back if he had too, but right now he just wants to curl up and pretend he didn't care about this stupid holiday. It would seem though that the universe won’t let him throw a pity party because as soon as his eyes fall shut there’s a knock at the door. He ignores it at first hoping it’s just one of his friends and they’ll leave if he doesn’t make a sound. He shouldn't have bet on it, when the knocks continue. It’s funny how urgent they sound, but really he just wants to be left alone. Still he groans, dragging himself off the couch and shuffling to the door with a scowl. The door swings open as he readies to spit nasty words at whoever has interrupted him only to catch a faint whiff of apples. His gaze falls to someone just a head shorter than him, a woman, one he doesn’t recognize.

“Can I help you?” he asks, feeling the chill of the air nip at his nose as he takes a deep breath, catching the scent of a prey shifter species.

“I um, well, are you um, are you Jungkook?” she asks, her gaze easily meeting anything else except his own as he stares. He’s sizing her up, not in a scummy way of course, how could he when he had you, but he doesn't recognize her at all. Nor does her scent smell familiar so he really can't place how he would know her.

“Yes, and you are?” he finally says watching as her nerves seem to settle the slightest, though her heart is still beating a little too loudly for his liking.

“I’m Bunny, Yoongi said you would be expecting me?” she offers up easily though it’s almost a whisper. His features twist into something of confusion, Yoongi said what now? That damned cat had gone MIA, surely this was a prank or something.

“How do you know Yoongi?” He asks instead, watching a shade of rose color the light olive of her cheeks.

“We’re dating.” she mumbles bashfully clenching her hands at her side. Suddenly he recalls pestering Yoongi into letting them meet his girlfriend, and the former almost immediately putting his foot down in a firm no. So really is he at fault he didn't recognize Yoongi’s girlfriend, someone he has never met, until today that is.

“Oh, you’re that Bunny!” he almost howls watching as she flinches at the sheer volume of it. It’s cute really, he takes back what he said about her not being as hot as you, though you will always be number one in his book.

“Yeah, did Yoongi not tell you that I would be here today?”

“I don't think so.” he answers easily, watching the way she scowls more to herself than him, as she pulls her phone out and presses it to her ear.

“You didn't tell him I would be here?” Bunny says after a brief moment. He can slightly hear what he assumes is Yoongi’s voice though it's more muffled than anything.

“But Yoonie you said you would tell him. No, I was on time. Are you sure you texted him? Yoongi! Okay, you owe me big time. Promise? Okay, love you.” she finishes hanging up with a sigh, the rose on her cheeks is darker bordering more on red now.

“Sorry about that, Yoongi was supposed to send you my schedule. He said you needed help with baking a pastry?” she says with a smile sweetly at him.

“Wait, you're the someone he knows?” she tilts her head slightly brows furrowed at his words.

“I guess I am, can I come in or is this a bad time?” He’s quick to step aside, showing her to the living room and offering her something to drink. It’s odd to be alone with another woman, one who is very much not single but still weird since he’s never done it before. It’s almost off putting, so much so he feels a growl building in his chest. He really shouldn't be so guarded, especially when she is harmless and seems to have no ill intentions. He’s placing a cup of tea before her taking the seat adjacent to her as she smiles warmly at him.

“So what did you have in mind?” she asks, not unkindly pulling a notepad from her bag and resting it in her lap while she waits for his answer.

“I’m not entirely sure, I just know it has to be something with chocolate.”

“That narrows it down a bit, do you want something more elegant or simplistic?”

“Simplistic, my girlfriend doesn’t like things that are too flashy.” he sighs thinking of you and the easy smile you give him when you're eating sweets. It eases his nerves the slightest, as Bunny takes note of this.

“This almost seems like a therapy session, what with you sitting here taking notes and all.” he says to break the gentle scritch scratch sound of her pen on paper. She pauses, a small hesitant smile on her lips as she moves to meet his gaze.

“Truth be told I’m a little nervous, you’re aura is a little intimidating.” she chuckles, grip tightening on her pen. He can see the reasoning behind her words after all werewolves very rarely interacted out of their species even amongst the supernatural.

“You shouldn’t be, I’m house trained after all.” he’s amused as a flurry of giggles flee her being, and she tries in vain to stifle them. After that she seems to relax, easy narrowing down their options to a devil's food cake or a chocolate tart. He likes the idea of a tart so it’s with a little glee that he makes his decision.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at the same time and we can get started.” she says as she gathers her belongings while he shows her out. He’s excited to say the least a little more than he was when he was with the chocolate. So he guesses that in the end Yoongi was a least a little helpful.

True to her word Bunny is at his door at the same time as the previous day and Jungkook is more than happy to let her in, even taking some of the shopping bags out of her hand. He isn’t quite sure how he’ll do, but he is confident in his ability to try. After her departure and a stressful amount of time spent doing school work you had come home, sans Yoonji of course and you’d cuddled before he’d made the two of you a light dinner. Even after he’d spent too many hours reading over a single chocolate tart recipe, so much so he probably knew it by heart.

“I brought enough ingredients to make room for trial and error. You don’t have to be good at it from the get go, just follow the recipe okay?” she says in a voice that is oddly calming, he wonders briefly if she uses it on Yoongi. He nods his head in confirmation tying an apron around his waist as she does the same. She’s quick to take the reins, directing him in the tasks, and helping him when he asks for it. She says that they’ll be working in pieces, cutting the recipe in half for now as she whisks the ice water and egg yolk while Jungkook mixes the dry ingredients with butter.

“Making the dough is easy, the baking part is what usually takes a while to get right. I’m sure you’ll do fine, after all Yoongi has told me you’re a great cook.” she offers still whisking the egg and water.

“This is actually my first time baking in a while, I’ve found that I’m not that good at it.” he laughs.

“Really, your girlfriend must be very special. It’s actually kind of romantic.” He offers her a smile as they move to the next step. As it turns out Bunny is a very good teacher, helpful and patient when Jungkook thinks he might’ve messed up the dough. He learns that she’s studying to be a preschool teacher, and that one day she hopes to have a litter of her own. A soft rouge settles on her cheeks after she had divulged that tidbit of information before she asks him what his course of study is and his dreams for the future. The dough is now chilling in the refrigerator as they wait, so he supposes he can indulge her if only a bit.

“I’m doing pack management, an easy degree for someone like me.”

“Yoongi said you were loaded and I didn't believe him, but i guess it’s true.” she laughs.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it, I just want to be a good Alpha.”

“How about pups? Do you want any?”

“Of course, I want a whole pack full of my pups. I just have to marry my mate first.” She seems to perk up at this, a smile splitting her features.

“Marriage, have you asked her yet?” she asks a little too giddy for his liking but he feels a blush color his cheeks regardless.

“Not yet, I don’t think it’s the right time.” She nods her head in understanding, before pressing him for any dirt he has on Yoongi. All in all the first lesson goes smoothly, well except for the fact that he over cooks one of the tart shells and burns the other. She reminds him that there is still room for improvement, which somehow settles his nerves. He agrees with her after all there are still nine days left before the 14th.

He manages to get the tart shell perfect seven days before valentine’s day, which means he has a week to learn how to make the filing and how to put it all together. He’s feeling a little more stressed than usual with midterms coming up and your virtual lack of presence over the last few days. Really he’s starting to wonder just what is keeping you away from home all these days especially when you easily redirect his attention any time he asks. Maybe he’s overthinking it, it could really just be school work. He’s hissing, as the knife he’s using to chop the semi sweet chocolate slices through his middle finger. Luckily for him Bunny is quick to usher him away from the island and towards the sink. She wraps a bandage around his cut offering him a rubber glove to cover his bandaged hand before she wipes down the blood that had leaked onto the counter.

“Are you okay?” she asks a little too hesitantly for someone who he has become quick friends with.

“Yeah, I was just stuck in my thoughts.”

“We can always take a break, we have time.” She reminds him again, moving to clean up before leaving him alone and saying that he deserves a break from not only school but baking too. With Bunny gone he has some time to himself, time to think, to cool down and let his rational mind take control of the rampant nasty thoughts rearing their ugly little heads. To his credit he’s never once thought that you would cheat on him, it just wasn't in your personality to do so. He knew that you wouldn’t, but he really can't help letting his head tell him otherwise. Still he would know if you were, his wolf would feel it and he’s yet to cause a commotion. He decides then that he’s overthinking it, there’s a high chance that you’re just off doing god knows what with Yoonji. He doesn’t like that either but it’s still better than what the little voice in his head is saying.

Five days from Valentine's Day, he and Bunny are making the filing for the tart. He’s once again chopping semi-sweet chocolate listening to her as she tells him the next step. She’s made the tart shells beforehand so it would be easier on him so as to relieve some of the pressure for a perfect tart. He’d thanked her for the consideration when she’d arrived, which led to now as he combined heavy cream, milk heating to a low simmer before he mixed in the chopped semi sweet chocolate. He added sugar and watched as Bunny beat the eggs needed to finish the filing. The only thing left to do was stir the eggs into the chocolate mixture before pouring it into the tart shell and baking it again. With a timer they set out to clean up, before Bunny excuses herself telling him to try the tart with some friends and if he needed any further help she was only a phone call away. With her departure he’s quick to call up Jimin and Taehyung asking them rather cryptically if they wanted to come over. To his surprise they showed up rather quickly and they brought Namjoon along.

“Smells good in here.” Jimin comments.

“Really good, what are you making?” Taehyung adds.

“Are you baking?” Namjoon asks, catching the attention of the other two.

“I am, don’t tell ____. I need you to taste test it for me.” he says quickly, moving to run his fingers through his hair as his nerves kick in again.

“Cool.” Taehyung laughs, throwing his weight down on the couch before turning the TV on to show with a female assassin who’s in love with a woman from MI6. Jungkook gnaws on his lip as he watches from the kitchen, silence falls over the four of them as they watch the events unfold on screen. Jungkook is surprised at Taehyung's choice, mostly because he very rarely enjoys anything the former recommends. Since he prefers shows he can use as background noise that he doesn't have to pay much attention to. But this one is good, it’s interesting enough he barely hears the timer go off. None of the others move, gaze trained on the show as the blonde assassin plays a prank on her retainer. He likes the relationship between the retainer and the assassin, in fact he likes them a lot more than the lady from mi6. The tart is warm in his oven mitted hand, and smells amazing if he does say so himself. The shell is golden brown and the filing looks just as beautiful as he’d seen in the pictures. But he’s still not in the clear just yet, he still needs his taste testers to give him the green light.

The nervous flutter of butterflies has returned, swirling in the low of his belly as he leaves the tart to cool. He’s gone back to gnawing on his lip, thoughts running rampant that maybe it won’t be good enough, perhaps Bunny had been lying to him, maybe this would be a disaster. He tastes blood, the skin of his inner lip torn open by all the anxious gnawing, he swipes his tongue over the wound letting the coppery taste linger the longer he sits in his pool of self imposed anxiousness. The sounds of the TV are muffled, the images blurring as his gaze grows unfocused the longer he sits and waits, there’s something about the waiting that gets to him. His gaze slowly falls to the tart as it cools to the side, his brows furrowing as he looks at it.

“Oh are you cutting it?” Jimin asks, gaze focused on Jungkook and the knife he holds in hand. He can barely manage a nod, watching just as silently as his friends crowd him at the counter as he cuts them all a slice. He doesn't wait for them to take a bite, watching his fork easily cut through the chocolate and the shell hearing the soft clink of the metal on ceramic. He slowly brings the fork to his lips, and when he finally takes a bite he almost weeps.

He wakes up to you snuggled into him, an arm and leg slung over his body to keep him close. To his surprise you don’t have anything to do that day you offer up when he asks what your plans for the day are. He tries to hide the way he freezes at your revelation, after all you’d both been busy leading up to today. Finally the holiday is here and he was ready to prepare your gift while you’re out but this has thrown him for a loop. He counts himself lucky that it’s a weekend before he shoots a text to Jin asking to borrow his kitchen and that he would be more than happy to offer compensation for said favor. Jin easily agrees, reminding him that if he wanted to use it he had to be there before five since he had a date. The real pain is having to leave you when he finally has you to himself, he has to physically force himself to leave you alone with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to be back early.

Time seems to fly by, because when he finally reaches Jin’s after what he thought was a quick trip to the supermarket the sun hangs lower in the sky than when he’d left. Jin greets him at the door, as he comes through bags in hand, before he rushes to the kitchen. To his surprise Namjoon is here, and he offers a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, taking note of the way Namjoon is dressed up.

“Jin and I have dates in the human realm, thought it’d be easier to catch a ride with him.” Namjoon says with a shrug.

“Aren’t you afraid of biting them?”

“You’d be surprised how many humans are into that.” Namjoon laughs, catching the look Jin gives him.

“Anyways, we have some time before we head out. I can help you if you need it.” Jin offers, tying an apron around his waist. Jungkook beams at the older, grateful for the help even though he’s determined to do all the work himself he’s more than happy his friends offer the help. The motions come easily, the dough and the filing are easy enough to do now after he has practiced. He makes a mental note to send Bunny a thank you gift and he supposes Yoongi too. Namjoon offers idle chit chat to fill the silence as he compliments the tart Jungkook had made all those days ago, saying how he’d been thinking about it often, he even goes far enough to say he would pay to have Jungkook make him one. The three of them laugh, Jin taking slight offence refusing to be upstaged by the youngest. Some odd hours later the tarts are done, one for you, one for Jin as thank you and one for Namjoon who looks more excited over the pastry than the date.

“Thanks for the tart, I hope she likes it.” Jin says as he locks his door leading Namjoon to his car. The drive home is a calming, classical music filling his ears as he lets his frenzied mind unwind. He thinks that he shouldn't be worried, he knows you and that is enough to finally calm the nervous flutter of butterflies in his tummy.

It would seem the butterflies have returned as Jungkook stands awkwardly on the porch, canvas bag in hand. His heart beats against his ribs too violently he’s afraid there’ll be bruising, he doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous in his whole life, perhaps it’s the holiday, truly he isn’t quite sure. He recalls Jimin saying that Valentine’s Day was made to celebrate love, while Yoongi said it was capitalism but he liked the thought of celebrating love better. Jungkook was a sap like that, and what better way to celebrate love than to give you something that he’d worked hard to make to show you, his one and only how much you meant to him? It’s this thought that finally frees the butterflies, setting them free from the confines of his belly taking his nervousness with them. Still he takes a deep breath before he finally enters his home.

“Hey you’re here!” you beam at him from down the hall. He takes in the dress you wear, something loose and flowery but still form fitting enough it hugs all his favorite parts. His gaze however remains on the apron you wear, something frilly and cutesy he’s never seen before.

“I am, are you cooking?” he asks, unable to help the way his tone fluctuates the slightest on the last word. There’s this bashful smile spreading your lips, tugging them upward ever so slightly it makes his heart skip a beat.

“I am, come and sit I’m almost done.” he does as he’s told, taking in the absolutely decadent scent of food. You fuss over him, taking the bag from him and setting it gently on the counter. He’s seated at the table chin resting on an open palm watching you work. It’s nice he thinks, especially seeing you dressed up for something as simple as dinner. Still it’s a welcomed change, a sudden furrow settling on his brow as he remembers you aren’t a particularly good cook and as such usually refrain from doing so.

“Hey, where’d you learn to cook?” he asks.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but if you must know I had Yoonji and Yoonji teach me how to make you something special.” you say shooting him a smirk over your shoulder, it stirs something in his belly something that he struggles to tamp down.

“Oh yeah, special occasion?” he teases with an easy smile.

“Just wanna spoil my man.”

“Hmm, lucky him, wonder where he’s at.” you gasp dramatically. Turning off the stove while pointing tongs at him.

“I do too, he’s very charming, cute smile, big, y'know all the things a girl likes?” she sighs as his cheeks pinken at the unexpected praise.

“You think I’m big?”

“Of course baby.” you simper, plating the food before cutting up the steak. He smirks as you saunter over placing the plate before him leaning up as you lean down to plant a soft kiss to his lips. He hums as you nibble at the skin of his lips, one of his hands moving to squeeze your hip before you pull away. You take your seat opposite of his, careful to remove the apron and setting it aside.

“Go ahead, dig in.” you say watching with rapt attention as he takes a bit of the steak and some greens. His gaze never leaves yours even as he takes a bite, letting the taste wash over his tongue. You smile so wide eyes sparkling as he groans, the savory bite of meat melts on his tongue, and he finally looks away.

“Oh god, what did they teach you?” he asks around a mouthful, quick to dig in as you giggle softly.

“Enough, Yoonji said you should be grateful she taught me well and that this was her one good deed for the year.” you laugh chewing the bite of steak. He nods his head, it seems he’ll be indebted to her.

“So this was the prior engagement Yoongi had mentioned.” he says more to himself than you.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, this is really good. My compliments to the chef.” He loves the way you smile at his compliments. The rest of dinner goes by much the same, the two of you exchanging teasing words in between bites and soon enough you're doing the dishes. You’re drying them as Jungkook rinses, resting comfortably close to one another when you spot the canvas bag that Jungkook had come home with.

“What’s in the bag?” you ask turning to look up at him taking the last dish from him to dry it.

“What bag?”

“The one you came home with, what’s in it?” you ask again as you dry your hands. He turns to see the bag, and suddenly he’s reminded of the tart.

“Oh, you go sit on the couch, it's a surprise.” he says spinning you in the direction of the couch smacking your ass playfully when you don’t budge. You flinch slightly as the mild sting, moving towards to take a seat on the couch as he says. It’s not long before he’s settling beside you as you look down at his hands to see a single slice of chocolate tart topped with whipped cream. Your brows furrow, lips twitching as you fight a smile.

“I made this for you, happy valentine’s day.” he says bashfully, chuckling softly when your gaze shoots up to meet his.

“Jungkook, you didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted too, besides it’s mostly self indulgent.” he whispers leaning into you to slot his lips against yours. He breathes in your sigh, tilting his head the slightest to deepen the kiss relishing in the taste of you before he pulls away.

“You taste like steak.” you giggle while he simply rests his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, well then I’d say we taste the same.” He pecks you once, twice, three times sighing when he finally pulls away taking the fork and bringing up a small portion of the tart to your lips.

“Open up baby.” he breaths eyes half lidded watching intently as your lips part ever so slightly wrapping around the pastry teeth scraping over the fork to catch every last bit. The rich taste of the chocolate washes over your tongue. You moan slightly blinking sluggishly as you savor the taste of the creamy filling parting your lips for more. Jungkook's pants feel tight as he feeds you more, each bite you take is more painful as he finally lets his mind wander. Let’s himself think of all those nasty little things he’d been holding back for a little too long.

“Need you baby.” he breathes, moving to take your bottom lip between his teeth. You whimper softly pressing yourself closer to him as much as you can. He’s quick to set the plate aside pulling you onto his lap, pulling you down by the hips so you can feel him press against you right where you need him. He swallows you gasp as he gently thrusts his hips up into you, teeth nipping at your lip again because he just needs to feel you.

“Want you Kook, please.” you murmur against his lips as he slowly trails them to your jaw and neck. He hums hands squeezing your thighs with a muffled groan as he slides them under the hem of your skirt, finger slipping into the waistband of your panties and giving a swift tug.

“Want these off baby.” you nod eagerly shakily sliding off his lap to quickly pull them off as he rids himself of his pants and boxers. His hands find your thighs again, squeezing as he pulls you to straddle his lap once more. Your fingers knot themselves in his hair, tugging slightly to tilt his face up for another kiss, mewling as he slides his fingers through your folds spreading your slick and rubbing your clit in small tight circles. You buck your hips as heat swirls in your belly, sighing shakily as his fingers dip into your heat.

“So wet for me, how bad d’you want it?” he breathes, nuzzling your cheek as your fingers tighten in his hair.

“So bad, kook plea- oh!” you squeal as his sinks a finger further into you, pumping it slowly as he eases in a second finger in beside it basking in the way you clench around them whimpering as you drop your hips with every upward stroke of his fingers.

“That’s it baby, just a little more, don’t wanna hurt you.” he sighs feeling his cock twitch as he thinks about being buried in your warmth.

“Need you, please.” Your hips grind into his palm crying out as he pulls his fingers from your heat, soothing you with soft bites to your shoulders.

“Shh, I got you, s’okay, ready for me?” he asks, not really expecting an answer. He spreads your arousal as he gives his cock a few pumps before he lines himself up to your opening.

“Deep breath okay, yeah just like that.” It’s a tight fit as he slowly pushes into your warmth, you groan into his ear at the stretch, twitching as he buries himself deeper. There are tears in your eyes as you clench around his girth, crying out as he grinds your hips into his. You can't take it, can almost taste your release as he continues to grind your hips into his as he whispers soft praise into your skin. His grip on your hips loosens, breath ragged as you continue to grind down on him feeling your walls flutter around his length. Your panting broken incomprehensible words, one’s he recognizes easily as your plea for help. His palm comes down on your ass, the sharp smack accompanied by your gasp when he thrusts into you. He only manages a few pumps of his hips before you wail, clenching around his cock so tightly it almost pains him to just sit and let you ride out the wave of your orgasm. Your body has grown slack against him, head buried in his neck as he rubs at your back.

“Are you tapping out on me?” he chuckles into your skin grunting as you twitch in his lap, squeezing your thighs closer.

“Gimme a sec.” you murmur sleepily, lips ghosting over the mole on his neck. He’ll give you all the time you need because you won’t be sleeping tonight.

“Happy valentines day, baby.” he growls when he feels you begin to rock your hips easily lifting you both off the couch and making his way to your bedroom.

“I can't, it's too much.” You cry.

“It’s okay, just a little more.” Jungkook reassures you softly.

“P-please s’too much.” The sob that you let out is whiny, bordering on distressed. Yoonji’s cheeks heat the longer she stands in the hallway, maybe she should’ve announced her entrance instead of barging in. Perhaps if she did she wouldn’t have walked in on you and Jungkook fucking in the kitched.

“That’s it, good girl, that’s perfect.” he sighs followed by your whine, and so Yoonji decided she should just leave. After all there was no use in interrupting if it meant being scarred by the image of her friends mid fuck. She definitely didn't need to see Jungkook’s tiny weiner, gross she thinks closing the door as gently as she can and leaving them blissfully unaware of her accidental presence.

“I hate cutting onion.” you cry when Jungkook cups your face and plants a few kisses to your lips.

“I know baby, but you wanted to learn.” he laughs as you grumble to yourself and he sweeps you up into a hug.

“So should we move on?” he asks, watching you nod excitedly, he’s equally excited to see what the future holds. It may have taken some time and more than ten ounces of semi sweet chocolate but eventually Jungkook learned that you would be the sweetest thing in his life.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #emm writes #an emm writes production #emms jungkook content #collab fic #x reader #bangtanedu #bangtanarmynet #heartsforbtsnet #tbh I might’ve dragged this on a little too much #this might be a clusterf*ck of a fic #long fic #mine writings #seriously I have no idea why it’s 12.4k #ah ranting in the tags as usual #read all the other fics they’re probably better than this #okay I’m done #hope you liked it and please excuse all the spelling mistakes

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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years ago

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🔥Now & Forever🔥

A/N: RIGHT HERE, STEP RIGHT UP FOR SOME ANGSTY SHIT PEOPLE, BC I APPARENTLY HATE MY OWN HEART. Okay, it’s not all angsty, it gets fluffier towards the end but this one is pretty heavy so be prepared! Inspired by the absolutely fantastic @ackermans-freedom-inc! Go check out their stories if you haven’t already, they are definitely one of my favorites and they are super talented, hence why I was inspired to write this based on one of their fics! Enjoy!

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Tongues & Teeth” By: The Crane Wives 🐉

~~~

(Y/N) suppressed her giggles behind her hand as Levi pressed more kisses to her stomach, humming in contentment as he nuzzled her skin. Shocked wouldn’t even begin to describe how she was feeling, watching her normally stoic husband act so soft. He had always lowered his walls around her, his wife, the one person he felt comfortable being vulnerable around, but he had never shown this much emotion. It was like she was looking at a whole new man, a smile spreading across her lips until they ached as pride filled her chest at how far he had come.

When (Y/N) had first met Levi all those years ago, he was a thug. A criminal who couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old, fighting to survive in a world that had spat on him from day one. She had been out walking her dog that day, enjoying the cool autumn breeze as she had rewarded herself with a couple of hours to relax after acing an exam she had taken earlier that morning. It was her dog that had noticed him first, a handsome black labrador she called Caspian, his ears perked up and a low growl in his throat as the boy who looked to be around her age had stalked towards them, constantly checking over his shoulder as the sirens from distant police cars had wailed louder and louder.

(Y/N) had noticed the look of panic on the boy’s face when the cars had rounded the corner, his face paling even more than it already had been. She had been able to tell he was probably dangerous, had obviously done something illegal, but something about the fear in his expression had twisted her insides more than the knife he could have possibly had and used against her ever would. Making her decision, (Y/N) hadn’t hesitated when he sped by, trying to outrun the cars before they saw him. She had reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning him away from the road and grabbing his coat, simultaneously handing him Caspian’s leash.

“Hey babe, I’m cold, could I borrow your jacket? Thanks!”

She had been impressed that despite his shock, he had managed to shake it off and nod woodenly, playing the part as he had grabbed ahold of Caspian’s leash and shrugged off the rest of his jacket. The cars had sped by, completely ignoring the couple on the sidewalk as (Y/N) had slipped into his jacket and leaned into his body, humming happily and thanking him with a sappy look on her face. It had only been when the police had rounded the corner that she had let him go, grabbing her dog back from him but keeping his jacket draped over her shoulders.

“Why did you do that?”

“You just looked like you needed a break.”

Ever since then, the pair had been inseparable, meeting together more and more until they eventually confessed to each other. Afterwards, (Y/N) helped build Levi up, allowing him to actually make a life for himself and giving him the chance to open up when the emotions he had were too intense for his mask to hide. He was lucky he had so many skills from his time on the streets, allowing (Y/N) to give genuine recommendations to jobs for Levi, until he finally got hired at a restaurant as a waiter despite his complete lack of job experience.

From there, he was able to climb his way to the top, earning his own money and scraping together any job experience he could get until he was finally able to get the education he needed at a reputable university, getting a degree in business and marketing before starting his own company. (Y/N) had continued with her own degree, working to become a criminologist so she could continue to help people just like Levi. Despite their busy lives and completely different worlds, Levi had never forgotten the girl who had given him his start in life and (Y/N) had never forgotten the bad boy who never left her bored or neglected, life always an adventure when she was with Levi, the two getting married a few years after they both had stable jobs working for their respective careers.

More kisses fluttering against her skin brought her out of her thoughts, another smile flashing on her face as she looked down to see Levi pressing his face against her abdomen, his arms looped around her waist as she leaned back into the headboard of their bed.

“Levi,” (Y/N) giggled when he started murmuring soft words of love to her stomach. “There isn’t even anything there yet, not really, it’s only been a few weeks.”

“I know,” Levi said against her still flat stomach, his husky words sending sparks along her spine. “But it’s still something. I just…, I don’t know, I guess I’m just happy to finally have a family.”

(Y/N) was a pile of goo at his sheepish confession, running her fingers through his soft raven locks as she sighed happily. “I’m really excited too, Levi, and I’m happy you’re happy.”

“Oh, I am,” Levi purred, making (Y/N) shift as his deep voice made her core melt. “I’m scared, really scared of fucking this up, or something going wrong, but I’m really happy. Thank you.”

(Y/N) leaned down and he met her half way to give her a warm kiss, her fingers lightly scratching his scalp as he sat up more to better tangle his tongue with hers. Her soft laugh at his enthusiasm quickly turned into a choked out moan, her hands tightening in his hair as he crawled to his knees, pressing her back against the headboard.

“Hmm? What’s this?” (Y/N) asked coyly, breaking the kiss and using one hand to run her fingers down his chest, teasing just shy of his groin before trailing them back up, smiling at the half-hearted glare he threw her.

“I was just thinking…” Levi murmured, leaning in for another kiss. “That I should show some appreciation for my beautiful wife,” he kissed her again. “A reward for this wonderful gift she has given me.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) said breathily. “And what if I wanted to give my amazing husband a reward for all of his hard work? I didn’t create this baby on my own, you know.”

Levi gave a low, keening moan at the feeling of her sucking on a spot just below his ear, closing his eyes and gripping her waist tighter when she started circling her finger around the arousal growing in his pants.

“I think,” he panted. “I have a solution that will work for both of us.”

“Oh yeah?” (Y/N) asked cheekily, biting her lip when she felt his hands leave her waist to creep under her shirt, his rough, warm palms cupping her soft breasts. “Why don’t you show me what it is?”

Levi gave a wicked smile. “With pleasure.”

__________________________

Levi didn’t know what time it was, only that it was late, going by the darkness that still filled their room despite the opened shades, but he found he didn’t even have time to think about it as he felt the cool edge of a blade against his throat. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to know what it was, the feeling ingrained in him from his days as an orphaned boy on the streets. His entire body froze but he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to give his attacker any further reason to sink the blade deeper into his throat. He felt a few tiny drops of blood seep from where the knife rested against his skin, and resisted swallowing to keep from rubbing against the sharp edge.

Without thinking, his left hand immediately flew out to lay across (Y/N)’s body, not caring about anything but protecting his wife to the best of his ability, even with a knife to his throat. While he’d like to avoid it, he knew he’d gladly die to save her, even if that meant never getting to meet the little bundle of joy he had been eagerly waiting for ever since (Y/N) had told him, tears in her eyes while she beamed at him.

“Thought you could keep me pinned down forever, huh?”

That voice, filled with a seething fire, coupled with the feeling of his arm hitting nothing but thin air and empty sheets hit him simultaneously, his eyes flying open to see the face of his wife hovering over him, one hand holding the knife to his throat while the other was holding a sheet against her body, hiding her naked form.

“(Y/N)? What the hell?” Levi managed to spit out, trying to wrap his brain around the situation.

“What? Didn’t think I was strong enough to fool you? I can’t remember what happened last night, but that doesn’t mean I’m too confused to defend myself.”

“Defend yourself? (Y/N), what are you talking about? Defend yourself from who? Me? I’m your husband, why would I-”

“You are not my husband, I’m not married. Don’t try to fool me with some cheap ass tricks. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Levi flinched at the pure hatred in her voice, but forced himself to stay calm. Something was obviously wrong, but he wasn’t going to get any answers by panicking.

“(Y/N), it’s me, damn it! It’s Levi! We’ve known each other since we were teenagers, we’ve been married for four years and we are having-”

“I said to stop pulling that cheap shit on me!” (Y/N) screamed at him, her teeth gritted as she pressed the knife ever closer to his throat. Levi’s breath hitched as he fought the tears back, but he was fighting a losing battle. What was going on? Why was she acting like this? They had had their fights just like any other couple, but she had never screamed at him like this, like she loathed him with every fiber of her being.

“It’s not a trick, (Y/N), I love you!”

“You can’t love someone you pulled out of a bar for a quick fuck,” (Y/N) spat. “Was that what happened? Or did you break into my house and knock me out when I wasn’t looking? Or did you drug me? Get me to trust you just enough to drink something you gave me before dragging me to your house to use as you please?”

“(Y/N), I would never use you-”

“Then what the hell do you suggest happened!?” (Y/N) shouted, her voice cracking a little as she spoke. “I’m not an idiot, I can feel the aching between my legs, the bites on my neck, the dried spend on my inner thighs. Not to mention, I woke up naked. What? You just wanted to bring me to your bed, strip me down, and then watch me sleep? You had no desire for sex at all when you brought a strange, unconscious woman into your house and ripped her clothes off?”

Her voice was starting to shake now, her breathing heavy and tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She still had that fiery look, like she wanted to kill him, but she was starting to lose her composure. Her whole body shook, and she had to keep readjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her naked form, the cloth slipping from the sweat that was starting to coat her palms.

“You can lie all you want, make up this bullshit about how we’re happily married and I’m just delusional, but I won’t fall for it. You’re a fucking monster, you know that? I didn’t ask for this, to be taken advantage of when I was incapable of making my own decisions or protecting myself. If I wouldn’t go to jail for it, I’d send you back to the hell you came from right now,” (Y/N) pressed the blade slightly deeper into his skin as she spoke, her eyes glittering with fury and a desperate sadness.

But no matter how far she sank that knife into him, it was the words she spoke that stabbed him deeper, sinking into his heart and twisting it until he almost couldn’t contain the will to cry out. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably now, his expression displaying his need for a solution, anything to make this nightmare end. Not just for himself, but for (Y/N). He absolutely loathed the idea of her thinking he’d ever do anything to her that she was uncomfortable with, but he hated the idea of her thinking it was real more. If she truly believed he had assaulted her, used her for himself, that could prove to be more traumatic than anything he was dealing with currently.

“(Y/N), I-”

“How the fuck do you know my name? You keep saying it, did I tell you before I was knocked out?”

“(Y/N), listen, you were never knocked out! I know your name because I’m your husband! You have to believe me! I would never hurt you, never!”

“I warned you,” (Y/N) said, leaning so close to him he could feel her breath hitting his face, her fingers twitching on the handle of the knife as if she were fighting the urge to slide it across his throat and end this once and for all. “Not to tell me this fucking story all over again. I would remember if I was married, that’s not something you just forget overnight. I don’t really care about what happened to lead up to this, the point is that you did what you did, and now you’re going to pay for it.”

Levi didn’t know what was going on, but he knew he had to do something before things got even worse. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of what he was going to have to do, Levi closed his eyes and brought his knee up, hitting her ass and sending her flying forward. Tilting his neck to avoid the bite of the blade, he used her state of unbalance to knock her off of him, flying out of bed and slamming the door to their bedroom behind him. He held the door closed as she pulled and pounded against it, whimpering quietly with every scream of hatred she spewed at him. Reaching over, he managed to grab a nearby chair and used it to jam the door shut, confident she couldn’t get out. He thought about the windows but knew she wouldn’t be able to escape through them, their bedroom on the top floor of their house too high off the ground for her to jump or even climb down safely.

His hands were shaking as he quickly dialed the numbers of his two closest friends, not even apologizing for the late hour as he quickly explained the situation to both of them. He hoped that with Hanji’s medical experience as a doctor and Erwin’s experience as a detective they would be able to shed some light on what could possibly be going on with his beloved wife. Hanging up at their promises to come immediately, Levi slumped against the door to their bedroom, his head in his hands as he finally let himself cry.

___________________________

Transient Global Amnesia. Levi stopped breathing as Hanji gently placed a hand on his shoulder, sitting him down in a nearby chair. It was nothing more than a sudden, spontaneous bout of amnesia that wasn’t triggered by a stroke or neurological disorder. There was no real cure for it and while it tended to only be temporary, that wasn’t always the case. He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pass out.

“How is she?”

“She’s… coping.”

Levi visibly cringed at Hanji’s words, and while the friend part of the brunette almost immediately regretted telling him, the doctor part of her knew he needed to know the truth. At the moment, (Y/N) did not remember anything about Levi, or where she was, or her relationship to him. They hadn’t even told her about the baby yet, too concerned she’d do something rash if she found out before she had been calmed down.

“What is she doing now?” Levi asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

“Erwin is with her right now. He’s trying to convince her that the neighbors heard a commotion and called him to investigate, which led to your “arrest” and that we are here to save her.”

Levi snapped his head up, his eyes furious and his mouth opening to speak when Hanji interrupted him.

“I know what you’re going to say, Levi, and don’t worry, we have a script planned to prove your innocence should her amnesia continue so she doesn’t continue to think you took advantage of her. But this is the only thing we could think of that would let us get close to her without her thinking we were “in league” with you. Do you understand? We didn’t want to paint you in a bad light, but we had to if we wanted to keep her from hurting you or herself.”

Hanji avoided bringing up the idea of the baby getting hurt too, knowing that would just pour more salt on the wound. Levi wasn’t stupid, it was clear he was very aware of the fragile situation they were all in at the moment, it wouldn’t help to make him even more stressed with information he already knew.

Levi was quiet for a moment but eventually nodded, closing his eyes and placing his head on his fist, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair, trying to process everything he was being told without breaking down. Hanji took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.

“And um…, I’ve organized everything so that (Y/N) will come to live with me for a while. I want to keep an eye on her and it’s obvious she can’t really stay here.”

To her surprise, Levi just nodded, letting loose a silent sob that Hanji pretended not to hear, for his benefit. When his body started to shake, she placed her hand on his shoulder again, using her other hand to lift his chin up so she could look into his eyes. Her heart clenched when she saw the pain and despair swirling there, her normally stoic best friend showing more vulnerability than she had ever seen him display for anyone other than the woman who currently thought he was a monster.

“Listen, Levi. I promise you right now, both as a friend and as a doctor, that I will do everything in my power to make sure everything goes back to normal. I can’t promise that it will, but I do promise that I will work until I die trying, alright? You may feel like the world is against you right now, but you are not alone.”

Levi closed his eyes and nodded, murmuring his quiet thanks as Hanji made to leave the room, her phone pinging with Erwin’s text saying he finally got her calm enough to transport. “Make sure to stay in here until we are gone, okay Levi?”

Levi didn’t respond as Hanji left the room, only sitting with his head pressed against his fist as he listened to the sounds of Erwin leading (Y/N) to Hanji’s car, each murmur of comfort from his best friends to his wife like another dagger to his bleeding heart.

_______________________

“(Y/N)? Are you okay in there?” (Y/N) heard Hanji call from behind the bathroom door. Closing her eyes, (Y/N) answered that she was fine, too busy with fighting another wave of nausea to formulate the words necessary to convey that she was indeed, not fine.

When she finally felt the roiling in her stomach calm down, (Y/N) flushed the toilet and washed her mouth out, nearly vomiting again just from the taste on her tongue. When she was finally certain that she could close her mouth without gagging, (Y/N) took a deep breath and sat on the now closed toilet lid, trying not to cry.

Hanji had been unbelievably kind and supportive, letting her stay at her house until she got better, using her medical skills to check her over in her comfortable living room rather than in the daunting, harsh environment of a hospital. She had let (Y/N) borrow her guest room and had provided her with any clothes she had needed during her stay. She felt…, comfortable. Safe. But she couldn’t deny that she was still shaken after her whole ordeal with the raven-haired man.

While it was clear he had known her name, she didn’t know his; didn’t know anything about him other than he had assaulted her and been taken into police custody for it. While part of her was viciously happy at the thought of him behind bars, another more confusing part of her was screaming at her to help him, almost as if something inside her knew him in a way the rest of her didn’t. She quickly shook off the feeling, focusing on the satisfaction of knowing he was getting a just punishment for his actions, hoping she’d be the last in what she assumed was a string of his victims.

But even when she was being taken care of by a nice, talented doctor, and her captor was being sent to jail, and she had a handsome detective on standby to protect her at a moment’s notice until she was cleared by Hanji to go home, the incident still made her want to scream, to cry, to curl into a ball and forget everything. She could only find some semblance of comfort from the thought that she couldn’t remember the assault, too drugged out or unconscious to remember any of what had happened that night.

But a week and a half had passed since then, and with each day of consistent vomiting, and hormone changes, and random food cravings, (Y/N) had the horrible suspicion that she was pregnant. Again, a strange part of her felt warm and tingly at the thought, as if she had planned for this, making her groan in pain and frustration. She really hoped she didn’t have some resemblance of Stockholm Syndrome, his looks and charisma making her feel as if she were in love with him despite what he had done to her.

Another knock sounded on the door, followed by Hanji’s concerned voice. “Are you sure, you’re alright, (Y/N)? I’m worried about you, hun.”

“I’m coming,” (Y/N) said, her lip twitching at the concern in Hanji’s voice. She couldn’t express her appreciation for the surprisingly energetic woman, how sweet she was without pitying her, how gentle she was without treating her as if she were made of glass.

Washing her hands quickly, (Y/N) unlocked the door and joined Hanji in the kitchen where she had made her some pancakes with bacon, no eggs at (Y/N)’s insistence after the smell of them on the first day had sent her running to the bathroom.

“Thanks again, Doctor Zoe,” (Y/N) said when the woman forked the bacon onto her plate, the doctor waving her hand dismissively at her gratitude.

“It’s really no problem, (Y/N). It’s my job to take care of you to the best of my ability and that’s what I’m going to do. You’ve been through a lot, you deserve to feel comfortable and relaxed,” Hanji said, trying not to cringe at the way her once best friend called her name so formally. It wasn’t a lie, she had been through a lot, it just wasn’t what she knew (Y/N) was thinking.

The thought made Hanji want to cry, knowing how much it was hurting both of them. She had met with Levi the other day under the guise of getting more groceries, wanting to check on him as both a friend and a doctor, only to find a wreck of the once proud man she knew. She had come into his home, an alarm bell going off in her head when she noticed he hadn’t cleaned in days. Finding him on the couch, messy and hunched over, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess as he stared at a photo of the two of them horseback riding together, had almost broken her. She had relented a little, giving him a hug despite the grunt of annoyance he gave, a watery smile forming on her lips as he still managed to show his disdain for her hugs, but it had quickly disappeared when he started sobbing quietly, his shaking shoulders telling her before his tears did.

Shaking her head a little, Hanji pushed the image to the back of her mind, using it to fuel her determination to get (Y/N)’s memories back rather than letting her depression take over. She had to do this, for both of them, no matter what.

“Hey, Doctor Zoe,” (Y/N)’s quiet voice snapped Hanji out of her musings, prompting her to look around the corner from where she had been cleaning the kitchen to look at her patient, fighting the tears back at how weak she looked. So different from the best friend she had known and lost.

“Yes, (Y/N), what is it? Are you hurting somewhere?”

“Doctor Zoe…, I think I might be pregnant.”

Hanji froze, her eyes widening.

Shit. Shit.

Hanji still hadn’t told her, had been too afraid to. She hadn’t even known how. How do you even begin to explain to a person that they were pregnant with a baby they had planned for and consciously made with a person they now believed to be a sexual predator? She had spent days mulling over how best to explain it to her, but now all of that was thrown out the window. She had been so focused on everything else, she hadn’t even considered the fact that (Y/N) might figure it out for herself.

(Y/N) noted the look on Hanji’s face, her eyes narrowing. Her lips parted for a moment, shock flying across her face before she schooled her expression, her eyes hard. “Doctor Zoe…, you know, don’t you? I need you to tell me the truth.”

Hanji swallowed hard and made her way slowly over to the table, (Y/N) standing up to meet her half way, her gaze never leaving her doctor’s face.

“Doctor Zoe, tell me right now. Am I pregnant with that monster’s child?”

____________________________

Hanji took a deep breath as Erwin parked the car in front of Levi’s house, a shuddering sigh passing through the detective as well.

“Thank you for being here, Erwin,” Hanji whispered, unrestrained tears streaming down her face.

“It’s no problem, none at all. I know you’re going to need some serious help with this one.”

Hanji hummed noncommittally, her brain screaming at her to turn around, to drive away, to hide in a dark corner and cry. She had no idea what to expect other than sheer chaos, but she knew she had to do this. If she didn’t do this now, she knew nothing could compare to the sorrow he would feel later.

“Let’s go,” Erwin said, placing a hand on her shoulder, his icy blue gaze meeting her chocolaty brown ones, his anguish apparent.

Hanji nodded, placing her hand over Erwin’s before they both slid out of the car, rejoining to hold each other’s hands, supporting each other so they could support their hurting friend, as they made their way to the door.

Entering without knocking, knowing it was unlocked, Erwin and Hanji didn’t have to look to know where to find Levi, heading straight for the living room where he had spent the past week and a half, never gaining the strength nor the desire to go anywhere near their bedroom. They found him looking blankly out the window, not even turning around when they entered the room.

“Any news?” Levi asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Actually, yes,” Erwin sighed.

“Really!? What is it!?” Levi suddenly perked up, racing over to his friends, his eyes wild as he looked between them, not daring to let hope sing in his veins in case it wasn’t the news he was looking for. After a moment, he was glad he didn’t.

“Levi,” Hanji choked out, tears springing to her eyes as she spoke. “She found out about the baby, but her memories still aren’t back to normal. She…, she wants to… she wants to terminate it.”

Levi felt the world shift beneath his feet. Stumbling back, his chest was heaving and his heart was screaming as his body sagged against the wall.

“No…, no, no, no!” Levi whispered over and over again, shaking his head. Not their baby, not the bundle of joy they had been trying for for so long, not the light that had surprised them a month ago with their presence, making Levi and (Y/N) feel the happiest they had ever felt. “No, no, no, no…”

Hanji hugged herself, hanging her head and ignoring when her glasses clattered to the floor, not even checking for broken lenses like she usually did when they came off her face. “A-And she said that…, she said that I’m the only one she trusts to do it…,” Hanji gasped, tears streaming down her face in waterfalls.

Looking up, she caught Levi’s eye, his expression unreadable as she watched him. The intensity and uncertainty in his gaze broke the normally energetic, steadfast woman, Hanji sinking to her knees as she sobbed into her hands.

“Levi, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry! I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to take this from either of you, but I don’t know what else to do! I know that if I don’t agree to it that she’ll find someone else, someone who doesn’t know the situation and won’t hesitate to perform the procedure. I’ve told her for now that I have to think about it since I don’t do those procedures often and I want a full health report back from her psychologist, but I can only put it off for so long,” Hanji sobbed, leaning into Erwin when he kneeled down to hold her close, petting her hair and making soft cooing sounds.

“Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, it’s the woman’s choice, it’s her body, but this situation is so fucked up! I know this isn’t what (Y/N) wants because she made this baby with the man she loves, her husband, and if she gets her memories back and finds out what I did to her-”

“Hanji,” Levi’s voice snapped her out of her ramblings, shocked to find Levi kneeling in front of her, his hand titling her chin up gently. “This isn’t your fault. Thank you for everything you’ve done in taking care of her…, and me.”

Levi looked away, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. Reaching up with his free hand, he touched the barely noticeable mark that was on his neck from when she had cut him.

“I want you to know that it’s okay. You’re right, this situation is fucked up, but we’ve been backed into a corner. As much as I hate it, as much as it will fucking kill me to have this happen, I will not force her to go through with something she doesn’t want. Especially something of this magnitude. We can wait for her memories to come back, keep trying harder to help her, but if they haven’t returned by the time her psychologist reports come back as sound…,” Levi couldn’t bring himself to say it, but his friends knew what he meant.

Leaning forward, Erwin and Hanji opened their arms and brought Levi in close, the raven-haired man tensing for a moment before melting into their comforting hold. All three of them sat on the floor of Levi’s living room, the dying sun staining the wood red as they cried, holding each other tightly as they silently begged for things to finally get better.

_____________________________

(Y/N) gave a wry smile as Hanji handed over the reports she had gotten in the mail, all of them from the psychologist that had carefully examined (Y/N) after her incident. While most of them had random information about therapists in the area and available medications from trauma, the page she really focused on was the paper that declared her mentally stable, even after such a traumatizing event. She would still need to heal, but she had been deemed mentally and emotionally capable enough to make her own decisions.

(Y/N) subconsciously placed a hand over the very slight swell of her stomach, letting out a sigh as she looked up at Hanji. “Thank you Doctor Zoe, for everything.”

Hanji merely nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she shook (Y/N)’s hand, as if she hadn’t spent years hanging out with (Y/N), going out to bars together, and taking some of their general education classes together when they first started college. As if she hadn’t gone to (Y/N)’s wedding and gotten drunk off her ass at the reception, giving one of the most hilarious and simultaneously heartfelt speeches she had ever given, much to (Y/N)’s entertainment and Levi’s embarrassment.

Hanji couldn't stop it then, the tears springing to her eyes before she could hold them back. She could see (Y/N) tilting her head in confusion, could see her eyes widening in alarm through her blurred vision, but she didn’t have the ability to explain, her throat closing up.

Before (Y/N) could even ask what was wrong, Hanji launched herself at the poor girl, ignoring her squeak of surprise as she held her close, sobbing into her shoulder. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I am so so sorry…,”

“What the hell do you have to be sorry for?” (Y/N) asked incredulously, only making Hanji cry harder.

“Hey.”

Hanji opened her eyes at (Y/N)’s soft voice, blinking at the sight of her once closest friend leaning down in front of her, holding her face in her palms. “Why are you crying?”

Hanji sniffled and managed to swallow the lump in her throat, forcing the words out. “I just…, I know this will sound strange but,” Hanji sighed. “I love you, (Y/N), and I’m going to miss you.”

It was like (Y/N) was struck by lightning, the words clanging through her, her entire body tingling as she froze. Everything. She felt, heard, saw, everything. She remembered. She remembered going to college with Hanji, hanging out with her on the weekends as they studied together and teased each other about their various crushes. She remembered meeting Erwin when Hanji brought him around for dinner one night after she had been pulled over by him on the way to (Y/N)’s house, the dazed cop not expecting to get a date and a free meal out of giving someone a speeding ticket.

And she remembered Levi. Her beloved husband. She remembered meeting him, getting to know him, going on dates together, their wedding, and of course, the day she told him about her pregnancy, the way he had smiled the widest she had ever seen, tears in his eyes as he crushed her to him, thanking her over and over again for giving him the family he never had as she beamed bright enough to rival the sun.

Hanji had felt (Y/N) stiffen, heard the gasp that had ripped from her throat and quickly released her, berating herself for letting her emotions get in the way of her logic. (Y/N) still had no idea who she was, it was as if a near stranger had given her a hug and claimed they loved her. Of course she was freaked out, and after everything she was already dealing with, this was the last thing she needed.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, that was a really unprofessional thing to do, I know you’re probably confused and-”

Hanji was cut off by the feeling of (Y/N) wrapping her arms around the doctor’s middle and holding her close. Hanji’s eyes were wide and she held her breath, hardly daring to hope. “(Y/N)?”

“Hanji, it’s me, I remember! I remember everything!”

“Y-You do!?”

“I do,” (Y/N) said, lifting her head and looking up at her best friend, her eyes shining brightly with love and recognition.

“(Y/N)! YOU’RE FINALLY BACK!” Hanji screeched, hugging her friend back tightly, making sure to stay aware of her slightly extended belly.

“I’m back,” (Y/N) murmured, rubbing her face into Hanji’s jacket, relishing in the feeling of knowing her best friend again.

“How?” Hanji asked in awe, her eyes shining with fresh tears of relief and joy.

“Your words! When you said, ‘I know this will sound strange, but I love you’, it snapped me out of it! Those were the words Levi used almost exactly to confess to me when he finally realized he felt something more for me than just friendship,” (Y/N) said, beaming brightly.

“I’m so glad you’re back, (Y/N), I missed you so- OH MY GOD, LEVI!” Hanji suddenly screamed. “He doesn’t know yet! We have to go tell him right now!”

(Y/N) immediately pushed away from Hanji, having completely forgotten in her moment of clarity and excitement that Levi was still alone at their house, had been for two weeks. Scrambling to the car, Hanji wasted no time in throwing the car into reverse before tearing out onto the road, calling Erwin as they drove.

____________________________

Levi was staring out the window when he heard his door explode open, causing him to glance back despite the fog that rested over his mind and body. He figured maybe Hanji had finished with the procedure early and was coming to console him, or maybe it was Erwin, coming to make sure he didn’t do anything brash.

When he turned, he found he was partly right, his two best friends standing in the entryway to his living room, but for the first time in weeks, they had silly grins on their faces, their eyes bright with joy and tears of relief.

“LEVI!” Hanji screamed. “(Y/N), she remembered! She remembers everything! (Y/N) is back!”

Levi’s eyes widened and his body tightened, waiting for this to just be some sick dream. His breath caught and he struggled to get the words out, to ask for the confirmation he needed, to make sure what they were telling him was true.

“Levi!?”

That voice. Full of concern and desperation and-

Love.

He hadn’t heard her voice sound like that in so long, and his body went weak at the sound of it. “(Y/N)!?” His voice was strained with his desperation to see her.

“Levi!”

Tears immediately sprang to his eyes when his wife finally rounded the corner, her own eyes widening at the sight of him. Letting out a strangled cry, (Y/N) bolted at him, Levi rushing to meet her head on, before crushing her to him, his arms wrapping around her in a way that told her he was never letting go.

They were both sobbing, Levi crying into her hair as she cried against his chest, scrunching the fabric of his shirt in her fists. Levi was quieter than (Y/N) in his relief, but filled with no less emotion, his heart finally being pieced back together at the feeling of his beloved wife back in his arms again.

“Levi, Levi, oh gods, Levi,” (Y/N) whispered over and over again between sobs. “I am so fucking sorry for everything I put you through, for everything I said, none of it was true, I promise. I don’t know what happened but I remember you now, and I love you and I missed you so much. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Levi muttered into her hair, his deep voice calming her fried nerves. “It wasn’t your fault, I’m here now, and I’m never letting you go again, do you understand me? I love you so fucking much, baby.”

(Y/N) buried her face even deeper into his shirt, her body shaking against his in her relief as Levi murmured “I’ve got you,” repeatedly, gently rocking her from side to side. Hanji and Erwin watched for a moment before leaving to give the couple some privacy.

“Is the baby okay?” Levi asked after a while, pulling away only to check her all over, his hands gently feeling over her skin with featherlight touches.

“Yes, yes, the baby is fine,” (Y/N) said, a tiny bit of bitterness in her voice as she remembered what she had asked Hanji to do before her memories came back. “I can’t believe I almost-”

“Shhh, don’t think that way. You had every reason to want to when you were in that situation, but you’re here now and we are all safe.”

Levi brought her back into a tight hug, the two of them sinking down onto the couch together, (Y/N) shifting to curl up in his lap.

“I love you, Levi, I love you so much. I’m sorry I ever called you a monster, and said those horrible things about you, and t-tried to c-cut you…,”

“(Y/N), remember what I said? It wasn’t your fault. You can’t have any regrets, alright? I’m okay, you’re okay, the baby is okay, and we are all together now. I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you both, now and forever.”

#aot levi #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #captain levi #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #snk imagines #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #snk levi #snk #shigeki no kyojin #levi heichou

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beckydoesthings · 4 years ago

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I spend far too much time on AO3 to let it all go to waste, so here’s a collection of ABO fics that I thoroughly enjoy. These are all hxl unless specified otherwise. I tried to condense my total list into one post, but I very quickly realized it would be waaaaay too long, so I split it up.

*will continue to update this. also if i mistagged an author, i deeply apologize, i do not know how to tumblr*

sleeping on our problems

E | 67k | @falsegoodnight

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down. There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word. His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared. - Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

this is everything i’ve ever wanted in an ABO fic and i’m genuinely in love with this. i think i cried reading this lol and i’m not ashamed of it. also the smut!

A Distant Hazy Light

E | 198k | @greenfeelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

this is part one of a three part ABO series that also probably made me cry at some point. chock full of angst and heartbreak with an (eventual) happy ending. also the side ziam is just *chef’s kiss*.

pray for some sweet simplicity

E | 237k | @eeveelou

Louis is the only omega to ever make it in the cut-throat world of competitive motorcycle racing—that is, he would be if anyone actually knew about his identity. Now, his sights are set towards competing in—and winning—the European Grand Prix, the biggest and most difficult race of the entire year, so he can disappear underground for good. He’s close enough, too, until an alpha sports journalist is assigned to follow Louis’s every move as he prepares for the event of his career.

Or, an AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for.

it’s just so beautiful. their relationship development was soooo good and i adored reading this piece. i never thought i could enjoy a motorcycle racing story so much!

A Sea Without Water, A Compass Without Direction

T | 84k

”Tell me, Louis,” Captain Styles said, leaning forward a little. ”D’you think I’m an idiot?”

”I—what?” Louis asked, surprised by the blunt question. He had expected something different, something along the lines of how he learned music, or how he ended up as a prisoner on the other ship.

”Do you think I’m an idiot?” The captain repeated, putting emphasis on each word as though Louis couldn’t understand him otherwise.

”Of course not,” Louis said, shaking his head. He’d be a fool for thinking such a thing, and an even bigger fool for saying it out loud. ”Captain.”

Captain Styles nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. ”Then why did you lie to me?”

”L-Lie?”

”Out on the deck. You lied to me,” he said. He held up his hand, three fingers up. ”Three lies total. I hate liars.”

i think i’ve read this like a dozen times and it’s still. so. good. probably the first pirate fic i read and i love it so much! the dynamic between them is awesome to read.

Seeing Blind

E | 46k | @that-idiot-overthere

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

the smut in this fic is absolutely filthy and i love it ;). but watching the two boys be idiots in love made this fic for me.

The Space Between

E | 40k | @alltheselights

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

i wanted to smack harry the entire time i was reading this, but in a cool way obviously. it’s quite fluffy but it’s got enough angst to make it suspenseful.

Face Your Fears

E | 92k | @sadaveniren

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

this fic is a rollercoaster of emotions from beginning to end and it’s amazing to read. i’m not sure what i love more, the fact that harry’s a baker or half the plot being based around wikipedia being false.

The Compulsion to Find Love

E | 140k | @toomanydreamers

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

it is quite a lengthy story but totally worth it. i adore louis’ fierce determination in this!

We Both Got Nothing to Hide

E | 43k

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

personal favorite because i have a soft spot for nesting. but i love the relationship between the two and it’s. so. fluffy i could melt.

lemon eyes

E | 50k

It's not proper for omegas to mess around with alphas before finding their bondmate. But Harry doesn't give a damn what's proper and fully intends on getting as much experience as he can before even trying to find one. As far as he's concerned, the right alpha won't care, and he'll have some fun on the way.

And who better to start with than Louis Tomlinson, the alpha with the worst reputation on campus?

ah yes a fic where Louis is an alpha and both are versatile?? wack. anyways, the smut in this is awesome and harry’s an idiot. what’s new?? (jkjk)

A Taste of Desire

E | 104k | @casuallyhl

“As forward as I have been with you this evening, I am also aware this dinner party isn’t the place to conduct business.” Mr. Tomlinson chuckles quietly to himself, shooting a subtle glance across the table towards their hostess. “And besides, I am sure our hostess would be horribly disappointed to learn that we went away this evening with a business agreement and not a mating one.”

Harry, who had been sipping his wine, coughs harshly at this. He splutters, unaccustomed to such blatant statements about mating.

Mr. Tomlinson continues to laugh quietly, clearly pleased at Harry’s reaction.

“Mrs. Humphreys promised that there was an alpha attending the dinner tonight that I would certainly get on well with,” Mr. Tomlinson continues, voice teasing. “She assured me that we would have much in common since we both work with mills.” Mr. Tomlinson glances at Harry, eyes flashing with mirth. “Little did she know that would be where our mutual interests began and ended.”

Or, a Victorian ABO where Harry is the owner of the most successful cotton mill in Manchester, and Louis is an opinionated social activist about to disrupt Harry’s world.

one of my favorite historical AUs! i love how strong and opinionated Louis is and how Harry comes round to follow.

Canyon Moon

E | 40k | @eeveelou

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

disney AUs are the shit! i’ve got a small love for werewolf fics and this is one of my favorites. love how this takes the story of lion king for a spin.

Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds

M | 38k | @2tiedships2

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

i love how just sappy and sweet this is, like there are just hearts pouring out of my eyes as i read this. also broadway!

*updated 2/15/21*

#fic recs #ao3 #in no particular order #abo fics #hl

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goldenretriever-nicknelson · 4 years ago

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Pieces of us [H.O]

A/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! I was determined to finish a fic for today and even though it’s super late I did it!! This idea was given to me by the lovely @glowunderthemoon about a year ago now and I finally got around to writing it. Thank you for the idea Fay and I really hope you and everyone else likes it!

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, unedited writing

WC: 2.4k

Your heart was drumming in anticipation, fingers tapping on your leg as you waited for your phone to buzz. You gave another look in the mirror and tried to occupy yourself even though you had been ready for the past 15 minutes. Your dress was perfect, hair styled to match and makeup complimenting everything nicely.

A few years ago when you were single you might’ve hated Valentine’s day but your boyfriend always made you feel the most special on his favourite holiday. He always spoilt you with flowers and cheesy gifts. Suddenly the day didn’t seem that bad anymore.

Unfortunately, you had to work this Valentine’s day which meant missing out on most of the day with Harrison. He still made you breakfast in bed and sent you cheesy texts but you were sad you couldn’t spend the day cuddled up and watching sappy movies with him. It saddened you even more when you came home and to an empty apartment but the moment you saw the cute note and the chocolates, you knew Harrison had something up his sleeve. You had smiled as soon as you saw the dress laid out on the bed, knowing it was your boyfriend's favourite. The little note attached told you to get ready for a date so you did but you hadn’t expected Haz to make you wait so long.

Just as you were straightening down your dress for the fifth time, your phone buzzed on the table. You rushed to look at it, smiling as you saw a text from Harrison but your expression soon fell into confusion as you read it.

My darling, tonight is no ordinary date. It’s been a whole year of us and it’s been the best year of my life. Start by looking at the place where I first said those three little words.

You furrowed your brow and gave a small laugh, knowing your boyfriend was up to something. You thought back to when he had first told you he loved you and knew to look around the couch.

It had been one of your classic movie nights; popcorn, drinks and a movie that you never paid much attention to. His lips were on yours, his arms around your waist as he held you in his arms before he whispered those three little words against your lips. He almost apologised, thinking it was too soon before you shut him up with a kiss and repeated those words back to him.

You smiled at the memory before finding a photograph on the cushion. It was one of the first you and Harrison had taken together, smiling cheekily into the camera with his hand wrapped around you. You remembered thinking about how cocky (and cute) he was that night when you went on a night out with him and your mutual friends. He was even cuter drunk.

The photo made your heart race faster but did nothing to ease your confusion.

On the back of the photo there was writing, scrawled out in Haz’s messy writing it read: Being with you is the easiest thing in the world and nothing, no one makes me happier. So for your second clue, remember when I stepped on your shoe.

You laughed out loud and paused in confusion, trying to figure out his riddle before realising there was something else written at the very bottom in small print. The title of yours and Haz’s song. The one that always made you smile when you heard it because it made you think of him. And then suddenly it clicked.

You remembered how it had become your song. It was midnight and you felt exhausted as you looked around at the messy kitchen, boxes and bags were everywhere. Haz carried in the last box and set it on the floor before leaning against the counter next to you.

There wasn’t much in your new kitchen besides what was already there and an old portable radio. Haz turned it on to a random station and Just the way you are by Bruno Mars started playing. He smiled and took your hand, pulling you into the only clear space in the room and starting to dance with you.

Suddenly you didn’t care how tired you were or what time it was, all that mattered was Haz and this new life you were starting together. He twirled you around making you both burst into laughter as he accidentally stood on your toes. It was one of the best nights ever.

You hurried to the kitchen and looked around, noticing a single rose on the countertop next to a picture of you and Harrison kissing on a beach. You smiled wide as you remembered the day, it was your first weekend away together and Harrison had whisked you away to a tropical sandy beach, staying in a cosy beach house. You didn’t get much done that weekend but it was still one of the best of your life.

You looked at the photo before turning it over and reading Haz’s writing: The views that weekend were nothing compared to the view I had in the bedroom ;) It was the best vacation and now for the third location. Outside is where you should go, specifically where I first kissed you slow.

Your first kiss, of course. You let out a giggle and took the rose, smelling it’s sweet scent before grabbing a coat and heading outside, following your instructions. Harrison had first kissed you on your first date, you still remember feeling his lips against yours for the first time, a feeling you would never tire of.

You arrived at the arcade and looked around, so many memories flooding back to you. It had been too long since you’d come back here. The place was fairly empty apart from a few couples playing games together and a group of friends cheering loudly as someone got a high score on the dance dance revolution game. Haz had fallen over twice on that game but his true skill was air hockey and he got so competitive when you both played that night.

He’d even won you a teddy bear with his tickets from the games and that’s when he’d took his chance to make his move and kissed you. It had caught you by surprise but you were soon locking lips with him and holding him close in the middle of the arcade, without a care in the world.

You found a bear similar to the one you still kept at home sitting on the air hockey table and your heart melted that Haz had remembered. It held a heart saying ‘being mine’ with a photo attached to it. The photo this time showed you and Harrison kissing when you were both drunk, a memory one of your friends had captured. You giggled and flipped it over to read the clue.

For your fourth and final clue, look for where we first met as two.

A smile lifted on your lips as you remembered in an instant the location you needed to go to. You tucked the photo in the pocket of your jacket along with the others and thought about the time you had been with Haz and of the photos that signified your relationship. Of course there were many more than just the ones in your pocket but Haz had picked these ones for a reason.

You drove to the park nearby where you had first met your boyfriend. It was a late autumn afternoon, the leaves crunching underneath your feet as your dog led the charge and sniffed at the beautiful scent of nature that surrounded them. You were wrapped up in the same coat you were wearing now with a hot drink from your favourite cafe that spread warmth to your hands. You furrowed your brow as your dog started barking and pulled you along at a faster pace to go and sniff another dog who was barking back at them.

The dog was beautiful and once they met in the middle, having dragged both owners along, they started to nuzzle into each other and lick. You giggled and sipped your drink before looking up at the owner hoping to share the humor and make a witty joke about puppy love but instead you almost choked. The owner of the beautiful dog was even more astounding. He had sandy blonde curls and blue eyes that caught you off guard as they matched the sky above.

“Talk about puppy love huh?” He commented, a cup similar to yours in his hands as he smiled at you and for a moment you forgot what air was.

“Hey that was my joke.” You giggled as he laughed and apologised. The conversation after that continued to flow easily and whilst normally you hated meeting strangers, you had to admit that handsome tall blonde guy wasn’t so bad. Even after you learnt his name and swapped numbers, that was still his contact name which he never missed an opportunity to tease you about. You met up after that under the excuse of more puppy play dates before the dogs weren’t the only ones going out on dates and the rest, as they say, is history.

You pulled up to the park with a fond smile and got out of your car, turning off the radio which had just been playing your song. The short walk from the car to the park wasn’t enough to prepare yourself for what you saw. A soft gasp emitted from your lips as you spotted the gazebo in the middle of the park lit up with fairy lights, a picnic blanket and food laid out for two. A violinist was playing next to it with a familiar tune that you had just heard on the radio; your song.

And then you spotted him, standing in the middle of the gazebo in a suit and tie with a large bouquet of roses and the smile that had made you fall in love with him. As you walked closer, you started to tell he was nervous with the way his hands shook slightly and whilst you didn’t know why it was still as cute as ever. You just wanted to hold his hands in yours and tell him everything was going to be okay.

He was holding a hand behind his back as he greeted you and kissed you softly. “Happy Valentine’s my love.”

You smiled and took the roses, looking at Harrison with so much love and a few tears in your eyes. “You did all of this for me?”

Harrison took your hands in his and gazed lovingly at you, “Everything is for you Y/n.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around him and sniffled, letting out a giggle as he picked you up in his arms. It wasn’t until you were here that you realised how much you had missed Harrison even in the short time you’d been apart.

“I love you. Thank you for this baby.”

“I love you too my beautiful rose.” He kissed your nose and made you giggle again before pulling away slightly. You pouted and tried to follow but he only smiled and shook his head. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I sent you to find all those pictures and clues.”

You nodded and bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement. Haz smiled wide but you could sense a bit of nervousness behind it. You knew him too well. Just as you were about to ask what was going on, he picked up a book from behind him and gave it to you.

You hummed in curiosity and looked at it. You quickly realised it was a scrapbook titled Our adventure which reminded you of one of your favourite disney movies, Up. Harrison encouraged you to open it and as you did you saw all of your favourite pictures. Some were from special moments in your lives like the ones you had collected and others were silly photos you and Haz had taken through the years.

You could feel your heart melting into a puddle as you looked through the pages. “Haz this is-” You paused and took a deep breath, at a loss for words. “This is beautiful.”

“Keep going love.” Haz encouraged, wiping a tear that fell on your cheek and admiring how beautiful you looked in that moment as you fondly remembered the memories you shared together. He was so glad you liked his final gift, he preferred homemade things and this had taken him the longest and most effort to put together.

He waited until you were right near the end before finally putting his last piece of the puzzle into action and stepping away. He pretended to go down and tie his shoelaces and waited until he heard a small gasp come from your lips as you saw the last page.

There was a polaroid of an engagement ring along with the words Will you marry me?

“Haz-?” You looked up, your face full of surprise and shock as you saw Harrison down on one knee with the engagement ring from the picture in his hand. The tears that had been threatening to fall since the hunt started finally found their way down your cheeks as you realised what was happening.

“Y/n L/n, my love, my soulmate. Will you marry me?”

Harrison’s sparkling blue eyes looked up at you with hope and nerves as he felt his whole body about to explode from the suspense. You didn’t even take a breath before nodding your head quickly, “Yes!”

You kept repeating your answer as you tackled your new fiancé with a hug and kissed him everywhere you could reach. He laughed and wrapped his arms firmly around you, never wanting to let go.

And he never did.

The scrapbook became a part of your relationship as much as your vows did on the day you got married. There were 4 pages full of wedding photos and 2 of photos from your Honeymoon to Hawaii where you recreated the beach picture from your first weekend away together.

The final piece of the puzzle however, was the sonogram photo you got from your first scan showing the newest addition to your family. A new scrapbook was made after that titled The Osterfield Family Adventure.

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

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Harrison Osterfield - @musicalkeys @hotforharrison @cosmiccaptian

#Harrison osterfield x reader #Harrison Osterfield #Harrison Osterfield x you #Harrison osterfield imagines #Harrison Osterfield x y/n #reader insert #my writing #fanfiction #fluff

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years ago

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Alix's rom-com night

The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)

About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.

Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...

About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.

Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.

She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.

She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.

Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).

The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.

“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”

A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.

“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.

She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.

Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.

Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.

“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?

Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.

“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”

“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.

“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”

“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.

She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”

“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”

“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”

Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”

“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”

“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.

“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.

“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”

“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”

“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”

“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.

“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.

“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.

Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.

“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.

Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.

“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”

“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”

“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”

“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”

“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.

“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.

“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.

“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.

“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”

She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.

Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.

“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.

“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.

“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”

“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.

“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.

“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.

“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”

“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.

“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.

Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.

“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.

Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.

“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.

“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”

“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.

“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.

“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.

“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.

“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.

Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.

Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.

“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.

“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.

Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.

“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.

“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.

“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.

“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.

“What?” He teased her.

“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.

“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.

“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.

“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.

Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.

(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)

#miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #mlb #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanart #alix kubdel #bunnyx #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #half-reveal #one-sided reveal #aged-up characters #elle writes #elle sketches #yccom

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unsettlingconclusions · 3 years ago

Text

Conversation over pizza

Pairing: Ayna Seth x F!MC (Kennedy) Genre: Fluff Rating: T Word Count: 3k+ Notes: I got inspired by @samanthadalton and @iamsimpforpoppy talking about pizza and food one day. I know this might not be a pairing of your particular interest, but I tagged you to show my appreciation for the inspiration (if you’d like me to remove it, please just let me know!). Story is not reviewed because if I stop to review I’d never post anything. Enjoy.

“So, I decided what we can do as your introduction to fine cuisine. Pizza!”

The sound of Ayna’s excitement came all the way from the kitchen to find Kennedy comfortably nestled against the cushions in Ayna’s couch. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and for once Ayna wasn’t swamped in deadlines or planning for classes, so they had been spending the past few hours curled up cuddling and watching cheesy romcoms. It was the perfect setting for peace and relaxation, and Kennedy would have voted to glue herself to the couch and to her girlfriend had it not been for the sound of grumbling stomachs. They were only human, afterall, and humans do need to eat.

“Pizza? Ayna, thank you for believing in me, but there’s no way I can get making pizza from scratch right.” Kennedy moved to the kitchen counter, voice a little less enthusiastic than her girlfriend’s.

But Ayna wasn’t to be deterred. “This one you can,” she replied, showcasing a package of frosted premade pizza dough. “Making it from scratch can be a challenge, I’ll admit. That’s why we’re gonna skip the make your own dough step.”

“But then it won’t be ‘fine cuisine’. It will just be like making a sandwich.”

“Ok, one, don’t talk like you even make sandwiches. And two, try to have some faith in me. Let’s make our own fresh tomato sauce. It makes a world of difference.”

It was a few weeks back when Ayna promised to teach Kennedy how to cook, starting with something easy, of course. This deal was brought by after a nice surprise romantic dinner Ayna had prepared for them in celebration of going public and finally being free to properly date.

“I thought you didn’t cook.”

“Usually I don’t, but I can make an exception if I feel the circumstances are special enough.”

“No, I mean, you said sometimes coffee is all you have.”

Ayna chuckles lightheartedly. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cook, it means I unfortunately don’t have much time for it.”

“So, does that mean I’m special?” Kennedy can't help the fluttering of her heart and the wide grin from reaching her face at the thought of Ayna dedicating so much to their date.

“You’re the most special of circumstances," resting her hands on Kennedy's shoulders, Ayna gently coaxes the younger woman towards the dinner table. "Now come, before the food gets cold. I hope you enjoy it.”

Kennedy was surprised by how rich and flavorful it all tasted, and as the thick and sweet aroma filling the air lured her into a deep sense of comfort, she was amazed to keep discovering all these layers to her girlfriend.

She learned that cooking was soothing for Ayna, as it reminded the woman of her daadi, who used to say there could be no warmth of heart with an empty stomach. Kennedy was wooed through and through that night, and if cooking was an activity Ayna enjoyed, she wanted to be able to enjoy it with her. But the truth was she couldn't cook if her life dependend on it, so by the end of the night she made Ayna agree to teach her something someday.

"Why pizza? I thought we were going for something Indian."

"You're the one who said you wanted to start easy. Let's hold on the spices for now."

"Fine, I'll trust you. Teach me like I'm one of your French girls." Kennedy grinned, doing as close to a Kate Winslet impersonation as she managed.

"Preferably not naked, though," Ayna teased as she approached Kennedy with an apron, motioning for Kennedy to pass her head through it. "Tomato sauce sometimes gets a little explosive and I don't want you to get burned", she continued as she circled around Kennedy to fasten the straps behind her back.

As expected, Ayna was no less of a teacher in the kitchen than she was in the classroom. She calmly explained everything they were doing and why, from why they needed to boil water to peel off and seed the tomatoes, to how to properly cut them and remove their stem and core to make the process easier.

“We’ll just cook them for little while so the skin comes off easier.”

Once the tomatoes had been set in the boiling water, they moved onto all the other steps. "No respectable sauce lacks onion," Ayna explained, "but chopping them can be tricky. If you get too uncomfortable, tell me and I can do it by myself."

"No way, I'm having the full experience." Kennedy replied, although her eyes did make her almost regret her choice.

When the tomatoes cooked to the right point and they shocked them in iced water, Kennedy was almost amazed by how easily the skin came off.

“Nice trick,” she remarked, as she quickly took care of her task.

“Yeah it is. And it works with potatoes too.”

“You mean I don’t have to spend an hour peeling potatoes?”

“You mean you have peeled potatoes before?” Ayna raised her eyebrows in genuine curiosity.

“Mom tried taking cooking classes once and got me into it too. It didn’t go very well,” Kennedy grinned sheepishly.

“And how is it going now?”

“A lot better. It turns out I just had the wrong teacher,” this time Kennedy offered Ayna a wink and a huge smile, being then rewarded with a peck on the lips.

“Here, let’s sievel the seeds and dice them.”

When it came to dicing the tomatoes, Kennedy felt like she finally could use a more hands-on approach to compensate the fact she was losing some precious cuddling time, so she made sure Ayna would notice she was doing it the wrong way.

“You’re cutting them too big.”

"Oh no, silly me. Can you come over here and show me how to do it? I might do it better if you guide my hand,” Kennedy stated, feigning as much innocence as she could.

"You’re just baiting me."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

Ayna came closer from behind and wrapped her arms around Kennedy, resting her hands atop the younger woman’s, guiding her movements gently. Kennedy took advantage of the moment as she could, leaning back and sinking further into Ayna’s embrace. She would definitely sign up for more cooking sessions if it involved this kind of teaching.

After many demonstrations more than it was actually necessary, Ayna rested her hands on Kennedy’s waist and moved her head to the side so her lips could softly brush against Kennedy’s ear, “Do you think you can get it right now?” She whispered.

“Y-yeah, I think,” Kennedy stuttered, tilting her head to the side to expose more of her neck.

Ayna nuzzled her nose into Kennedy’s neck for a few seconds before saying “Good, let’s finish this.”

“Buzzkill.”

“Try hungry.”

With the ingredients now all set to go, they moved the chopped onions to a pot and let them fry for a little while. As Kennedy stirs the pot to keep the onions from burning, the sound of them sizzling mixed with its heavenly smell set such a mood of domesticity, Kennedy felt a weird sense of nostalgia for something she never really had.

“Hey, thank you for teaching me. This feels nice.”

“Of course,” Ayna smiled broadly, brushing a loose lock of Kennedy’s hair behind her ear fondly, because the truth was there was little Kennedy could ask of her that she wouldn’t give. “Here comes the tomatoes.”

A few minutes of simmering later and the sauce was ready and good to go, its bright red color contrasting with the paleness of the dough.

With Ayna’s guidance, Kennedy assembled the pizza with their homemade sauce, lots of cheese (the true secret was to use good cheese, Ayna had said) and fresh basil leaves for extra flavor, and they set it to the oven. All they had to do now was wait.

“Have you thought about what you’re gonna do now?” Ayna asked as she setted up the oven timer.

“Hmm, wait for it to bake so we can eat?”

“I mean about Vancross. You came to help your mom with the Summit, didn’t you? To make allies?” She clarified, moving to help Kennedy out of her apron and taking her own off as well.

“Not just that. I came to study really.”

Once both were free of their aprons, Ayna started going about the kitchen, storing back everything they haven’t used. “Didn’t you tell me once you weren’t sure if going into politics was really what you wanted?”

“You remember that?” Kennedy asked surprised, the memory kind of distant. It was the first time they talked outside of the classroom.

“I remember everything about you.”

“Sappy.” It really was and Kennedy wouldn’t not remark on it, but on the inside she was very much melting. Ayna only smiled in return and raised her eyebrows, challenging Kennedy to not deviate from the subject. "But you're right. I came mostly because she wanted me to."

"Well, you seemed to thrive here, so I’m just curious as to how you feel about continuing your studies."

"I haven’t thought about it yet." Kennedy replied honestly, now sitting on a high stool by the kitchen counter, eyes fixed on Ayna, watching her move around.

"I think it suits you."

"You see me as a politician?"

"Not just in the sense you’re thinking. There’s a lot to this world that doesn’t involve you actually being a candidate and running for office." With a bottle of wine in each hand, Ayna showed both to Kennedy at the same time. "Red or white?"

"Hmm, white." To Kennedy's answer, Ayna just nodded and went for a corckscrew to open it.

"You know, I’ve been listening for so long how I should follow in my mom's footsteps that I guess I never really contemplated anything else."

"You do have a knack for making people feel at ease, and I’ve seen you do great at solving issues and leaving everyone involved satisfied. And you did great at avoiding conflict too." Ayna said as she approached with two glasses of wine, offering one to Kennedy. "Watching your debate was nice, it felt like you were in your element."

Kennedy took the offered glass and spent a few seconds twirling the wine around it before sipping. "Yeah, I thought I’d be going through a minefield with that assignment, but working with Blaine was surprisingly easy and not that conflituous,” she said, reaching for and pulling Ayna closer to her, scooting backwards and giving Ayna more space to settle in the space between her legs.

“Hmpf, I’d rather not think of how exactly you avoided conflict with him.” Ayna retorted, gulping down a very big sip of her own glass of wine.

"What? You don’t like picturing me charming Blaine off?"

"Uh, no?" Ayna moved away swiftly, her demeanor challenging, as if saying “did you really just ask me that?”

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Is that why you love pushing my buttons?” Ayna asked narrowing her eyes.

“I mean, it can get pretty intense sometimes. Jealous you is hot,” Kennedy replied teasingly.

“So you really do just do it to get a rise out of me.” Annoyed, Ayna took a step back and started to fully distance herself from Kennedy’s reach.

“Hey, I’m sorry, ok?” Kennedy hurried to apologize, realizing she missed the mark on this one. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she added, drawing Ayna back to her. To her relief, Ayna offered no resistance, and Kennedy took advantage of it wrapping her into her arms, guiding Ayna’s head to rest on her shoulder. “It was dumb of me, I’m sorry.”

“No, I am sorry. I’m not usually jealous like this, I just— oof,” Ayna shaked her head, sighing dramatically before settling back into the comfort of her girlfriend’s arms, “I’m not used to this feeling.”

“If it makes you feel better, I promise when we were working on that debate, we were really just working on the debate.”

“Really?” Ayna lifted her head up to look at Kennedy, her own eyes holding such a look of childlike hope Kennedy just found it damn adorable.

“Yes, I swear. By then, I was already completely charmed off by a certain TA. Getting you out of my head was no easy task.”

Ayna flashed a bright smile, cheeks flushing slightly as she lowered her gaze, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“See? You can’t smile like that and expect me to not think about that all day.” Kennedy exclaimed, gently lifting Ayna’s head back again and leaning in for a kiss.

It was supposed to be a quick reaffirming kiss only, but Kennedy decided she had spent far too long of today already not kissing her girlfriend, so she jumped off the stool to be able do it properly. She placed one hand on Ayna’s lower back and the other at the back of her head, entangling her fingers into Ayna’s locks and bringing their bodies as close as possible.

“We’re digressing,” Ayna grinned through the kiss.

“I like this subject better.” Kennedy replied quickly, just as quickly diving in for another kiss, only to be met with a smirking and uncooperative Ayna. “Nice try, but I’m not about to let our pizza burn. And I know where this will lead us."

“Would that be so bad?”

“It would if we end up setting the apartment on fire.”

Kennedy was ready to retort, or whine, to be more specific, when the oven timer set off. “Saved by the bell.”

To follow on the theme of having the full experience, Kennedy was the one to take the pizza out, with Ayna hovering around her fearful she would burn herself.

“Relax, I got this. Go sit by the table and let me pamper you for a little bit.”

Ayna complied, albeit reluctantly, and Kennedy did the best she could cutting and serving the pizza (it shouldn’t be that difficult, right?). The looks and smell of it were incredibly promising of a good meal. The bright yellow mixed with the few golden spots of over baked cheese coupled with the contrast given by the green leaves against the red sauce certainly provided a sight for hungry eyes, and the heavenly smell of any fresh off the oven pizza certainly didn’t hurt either.

“Whoa, this turned out to be really good,” Kennedy exclaimed in between bites, munching excitedly and occasionaly closing her eyes to further appreciate it, letting out satisfied little grunts. She would never have guessed pre made frozen dough could actually turn into a perfect crunchy crust.

With a hint of amusement at Kennedy's eagerness over pizza, Ayna teased, “You sound surprised."

“Well, yeah, it had me involved."

“Hey, don’t ditch your sous chef.” Ayna said, feigning indignation. Kennedy bends over in Ayna's direction, placing a quick chaste kiss on her cheek. "You're a really great cook. Thank you for this."

The rest of the dinner went by much in the same manner. Kennedy was reveling in the fact her audience wouldn't berate her for not being the image of the prim and proper lady, and at some point she may even have indulged in foregoing the silverware and going straight for the kill with her hands. Truth be told, Ayna was delighted by the sight, and vowed to always make sure Kennedy could be whoever she wanted to be with her.

Once they were belly filled and satisfied, they moved back to the living room, glasses of wine in hand, a recently new opened bottle resting on the coffee table. The reality of it was that none wished for their night to end just yet, and they talked about as many meaningless and trivial subjects as they could think of, conversation flowing freely. But by the time their second bottle was nearly done with, Kennedy noticed Ayna was getting more and more quiet, almost as if lost in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She inquired softly, nudging Ayna lightly, trying to prompt the woman to share what had her suddenly silent.

"I was just thinking about what we were talking earlier."

"We talked about many things," Kennedy replied, leaving both their glasses on the coffee table and moving back to the couch. She sprawled herself on the lenght of it, resting her head on Ayna's lap. "What has gotten you so pensive?"

"You", Ayna stated matter of factly, adjusting herself so Kennedy could fit in better. She brought both her hands to Kennedy's hair, caressing it tenderly, before continuing. “And your mom. You don’t have to antagonize her to follow your own path but you don’t need to follow in her footsteps either."

Kennedy remained silent. She didn't know exactly what to answer to that, for one, and she was sure Ayna would have more to say. She limited herself to closing her eyes, enjoying the soothing feeling of Ayna's hands on her hair.

Taking Kennedy's silence as encouragement (or at least not discouragement), Ayna added, "Sure, you’ll always face some level of scrutiny and expectations, even when she steps down from office, but you can still make choices of your own. I’m sure your mom would be supportive and proud of you.”

“You sure about that? I doubt it sometimes.”

“She may come off as distant and nonchalant, but I think it’s just because she’s really busy. She really cares about you.”

“Yeah, I know this whole mess brought us closer, but sometimes I wonder why we drifted apart in the first place. I miss her.”

"You don’t have to miss her, she’s right there. And you don’t have to hinder your future because you decided to stick yourself with the rebel role. There’s nothing wrong with changing your mind."

“I love you so much, you know that?" Kennedy inquired, a glint of admiration in her eyes as she sits herself back up to place a kiss on Ayna's lips. She then moved to take one of Ayna's hand on hers, squeezing tightly. "You say the greatest things. And you’re right. I thought at some point about leaving just so I could go against her, but truth is I kind of enjoyed this year here”.

As Kennedy was about to drop Ayna's hand, the older woman just incresead her own hold, not letting Kennedy go. “Whatever you choose, I’m sure you’re gonna do great. You’re hard working and focused, you could make anything work. And I’ll be rooting for you every step of the way.”

“Even if it means I leave Vancross?” Kennedy tilted her head to the side, an expression of incredulity and maybe disbelief on her face.

“Why not? I want you to be happy. If you realize that’s what you want, go for it. I like believing we're strong enough to survive us not being so close together all the time.”

“I like believing that too.”

“In any case, I don't think I wish Vancross to be my endgame anymore.”

“No? But you love teaching?”

“I do. But Vancross is not the only educational institution in the world. I could finish my thesis here and leave, or I could leave and finish it somewhere else. Assuming I can have a nice recommendation from here that is.”

Kennedy's expression softened considerably after that, now holding as many emotions as the number of beats per minute her racing heart is doing. It was hope, delight, caring, love. "What are you really saying?"

"I'm saying I'll go wherever you will if you'll have me."

Goddamn. With that sentence Ayna managed to increase Kennedy’s heart rate by tenfold and the younger woman loved it. She realized she hasn’t been this excited and hopeful for the future in the longest while, and she was eager to show Ayna just how much. Smiling widely she wasted no time in straddling the TA’s lap, moving her hips against Ayna’s, just to make sure her point would come across perfectly. When she felt Ayna bringing her hands against her back, letting out a low, quiet moan, Kennedy leaned in.

"Can we go back to digressing now? There’s no more pizza left to burn."

#foreign affairs #ayna seth #ayna x mc #ayna seth x mc #mc x ayna

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lamesiscanon · 4 years ago

Text

Darker Things

I have finished my fic for @goodboylupin ‘s candy hearts fest!!! My prompt was “sunshine” and somehow that turned into a hurt/comfort fic. Oops. The song lyrics and title are from “Darker Things” by Lily Kershaw, and it fits Wolfstar perfectly, I think.

Read on AO3

I worry about you at night 'Cause when the moon comes out all your demons come to life And you say you hate the way your mind makes you feel about All the things that hurt in your life, I feel you now, I can feel you

It wasn't a surprise that Sirius eventually finds Remus in the astronomy tower. The place is - as deemed by James - Remus' sulking place. And there he is, sitting on the edge of the stone, swinging his legs over empty air and puffing on a rolled joint.

Remus doesn't say anything as Sirius approaches, joining him at the edge of the tower so they can dangle their feet together, fifty meters above ground. Sirius is expecting Remus to yell, or snap at him with those passive aggressive comments that Remus is so good at giving out when he's in a mood. He braces himself for Remus to tell him to go away and leave him alone or finally shout about why Remus was so absent today.

Instead, Sirius is pleasantly shocked to find that Remus prefers to wrap their hands together instead, reaching behind to intertwine their fingers from where their hands lay supporting their bodies on the stone. It's a step in the right direction, though Sirius is still insecure about the way Remus keeps his face turned toward the sky rather than looking at him.

Now he sits in quiet, looking at Remus' profile as he gazes up at the nearly full moon. On such a night, they're able to see the grounds clearly. Sirius watches as a couple of seventh years sneak through the snow to the edge of the forbidden forest with bags that he guesses are full of clinking glass bottles. They can even see Hagrid walking fang around his hut. Bathed in the light of la luna, Hogwarts looks so peaceful. It'd be beautiful, Sirius thinks, if the moon didn't cause Remus so much pain.

More silence stretches between them, though it's not uncomfortable. It never is between the two of them, growing up in the same room for the past five years and getting to know each other on late nights spent in one or the other's bed sharing snacks given to them by the friendly house elves in the kitchen. They know each other well enough to understand that quiet can be just as conversive as talking sometimes. Except now, Sirius wonders whether or not Remus' silence is a punishment. Or maybe Remus is just waiting to get his words together before he yells.

A gust of cold February air breaches Remus' warming charm, reminding Sirius of the bundle of clothing clutched in his free hand.

"I brought your cloak." He informs the other boy, holding it up. Remus doesn't look away from the moon, but he does let go of Sirius' hand and allow Sirius to tie it around his shoulders for him. Lycanthropy doesn't often allow for Remus to get cold, but he seems to accept the warmth as Sirius finishes tying it together.

"There." Sirius states, pulling away to admire the little bow. Instead of thanking him, Remus finally looks away from the sky and leans down to rest his nose against Sirius' cheek. They breathe the same air for a moment, enjoying the closeness of their faces before Remus takes the opportunity to bring their mouths together. Sirius gasps, always surprised by how good it is to kiss Remus.

He's still a bit confused about Remus' behavior as he allows himself to melt against his lips. Sirius had gone through the day thinking Remus was mad at him, the only explanation he could come up with when Remus avoided him in all of their classes that day, or ignored him during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sirius came to the tower expecting to apologize, not to be kissed like nothing had happened.

The weight of a hand on his waist brings Sirius back to his senses and he rests his forearms on Remus' shoulders to pull away for a minute.

"I thought you were mad at me?" Sirius pants, looking up at the boy next to him.

Remus squinted down at him as he gently shook his head and brought his free hand up to cup Sirius' jaw. "I'm not mad at you."

"But..." Sirius is confused, and so is Remus based on the look he's giving him. "I thought you were going to yell at me."

"Have I ever yelled at you?"

No. Sirius doesn't even have to think about it, all of the times his and James' immature experiments and pranks turned against Remus' favor. All the times Remus was roped into a prank or caught out of bed after hours in which the Marauders received detention and lost house points. Remus never yelled, just made sure he'd turn Sirius' hair pink or charm James' clothes to scream when he got sweaty, all in the name of friendly revenge that they would laugh about once it was all said and done.

Remus has never, and most likely will never, yell at Sirius and he feels silly ever thinking he would. Remus is not like his parents.

With that thought, an entire day's weight of worry and panic melts out of Sirius' body as he leans in for another kiss. Remus smiles into it when he notices the tension in his shoulders fall away. Sirius smiles when he pulls back, holding eye contact as he grabs Remus' left hand that holds the joint between two fingers and brings it to his own mouth, inhaling and blowing the smoke out without looking away from Remus. The moment becomes charged then, gold staring at silver and neither daring to be the one who breaks it.

Sirius knows what he looks like when he looks at Remus. There's so much love and adoration on his face that James pretends to puke whenever he catches him at it. Sirius sees that same look reflected back at him in Remus' own face.

This time, however, mixed in with the love and sappy fondness is Sirius' underlying worry. He tries to hide it, but he's sure Remus can see the unspoken Are you okay? and What can I do to help? and Merlin, I worry about you on nights like this because I hate the fucking moon and the way it makes you feel, just by looking at Sirius' eyes. Remus knows how to read him like a book.

Whatever Remus is able to interpret from the look goes unanswered as he breaks eye contact to finish the joint by himself, and Sirius sighs as he leans against him, resting his head resting on Remus' shoulder and watching him exhale the smoke.

If Remus is going to ignore the blatant worry on Sirius' face, then Sirius will have to go for a more direct approach. He was mad about the way Remus didn't talk to him during the meals despite Sirius' attempts to engage him. He was annoyed at Remus for ignoring him during class and the way he pretended to pay attention to the lesson rather than acknowledge anything Sirius said. But now, he just worries.

"What happened today, Rem?" Sirius whispers once Remus has extinguished the end of the burning blunt. The body against him tenses, and stays that way for a long time until Sirius leans away to look at him again.

Remus keeps his gaze towards the moon, like he did when Sirius first arrived at the tower expecting Remus to be angry. He still doesn't know what Remus is feeling.

"I'm sorry about the way I acted today." Remus whispers back, avoiding the full question and confrontation altogether.

Sirius huffs, thinking it'd be better if he weren't even there at the moment. Remus has a hard time talking about things that bother him no matter how hard Sirius is working to get Remus out of that habit. Maybe Remus will talk more if he doesn't feel pressured by Sirius being there. Maybe he just needs somebody to listen, without the worry that they'll interrupt him.

A large black dog takes Sirius' place in a blur of motion and moves to curl into Remus' lap. Large hands immediately tangle themselves within the fur and start petting up and down the dog's back.

Padfoot has his back turned to the moon now, but he sees the glow reflected in Remus' eyes as the boy smiles down at him. The silence that falls over them this time feels less tense than earlier. Remus relaxed now as he looks up to stare at the grounds while Padfoot stares up at him, enjoying the unconscious movements of Remus petting him. Now he just has to wait for Remus to talk. Whenever he's ready.

Between the hurt of mornings spent in the shack after full moons and nights when Remus has his own nightmares, Sirius has come to find out that Padfoot really is a good therapy animal and it's easier for Remus to talk to him as a dog than it is to talk to him as his boyfriend. Sure, it can be frustrating at times, but Sirius will continue to do whatever it takes to help Remus.

"It hurts, Sears." Remus finally speaks, breaking the silence. Padfoot's ears perk up at Remus' nickname for him, but he's having a hard time processing the other words while he's in dog form. He tries to pay attention as Remus lets out a heavy sigh and they watch the hot breath blow away in the cold wind. "The moon just hurts so much, sometimes."

Padfoot nudges his nose into Remus' thigh, a gesture of comfort and encouragement to keep talking.

"It's like it can still control my body even when it's not full. Today it just- it fucking- it hurt. It hurt and I was in pain and I-"

The hands on his fur still and Padfoot realizes there is something wet that keeps hitting the back of his neck. Remus is crying.

"And I like it. The wolf part of me loved the pain I was in and my mind kept telling me to embrace it, enjoy it. And I got scared. I didn't want to be close to you or James and Peter today because I felt so disgusted with myself."

Padfoot pulls himself up to where he can lick at Remus' jaw, slightly wet with tears, and the hands on his back resume their petting.

"I hate the way my mind makes me feel sometimes, Pads. Everything just hurts and I hate how dark it can get in here and I don't ever want you to see me that way." Remus closes his eyes and points to his temple for emphasis. "It's like constant rain and hail and I'm fucking terrified of showing you how dark my mind can ge-"

The dog is licking at Remus' face until he turns back into a teenage boy again, straddling Remus' lap and cutting him off with a hard kiss on his mouth. Remus cries against him and grasps his waist tight. His palms spread against his hips and slide against Sirius' back, holding him like he's worried Sirius will fall off the tower at any minute.

"Please don't cry, my dear." Sirius breaks away with tears of his own, stroking Remus' cheek with the pad of his thumb. In Sirius' mind, Remus deserves the whole world. Remus is the warmest and brightest thing, reminding him of those early blue hours of summer mornings where you have so much love and excitement for the day ahead. He reminds Sirius of warm cuddles near the fire and the smell of wet forest in the fall. And it hurts to see how the moon can make a boy so warm feel so cold.

Sirius' heart breaks as Remus continues to quietly cry against him, burying his face into the crook of Sirius' neck. Sirius runs a calming hand through his curls and gently shushes him.

"I won't let it always be like that." Sirius promises, thinking about the war Remus has with himself and the wolf. "I swear to Merlin, Remus. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure you see sunshine poke through the weather in your head."

Remus pulls his face away from his neck and kisses him again though this time, he's smiling against Sirius' lips.

"You're all I need."

Remus peppers kisses on Sirius' chin, nose, cheekbones, and forehead. "My sun." kiss. "My star." kiss.

Sirius calms him, kisses him, and loves him there in that tower. For now, the moon hangs nearly full in the sky it's nothing compared to how the brightest star holds him so close.

I worry about you in the light of day 'Cause you don't know who you are when all your demons go away And you say you hate the way your mind makes you feel about All the darker things in your life, I feel you now, I can feel you

Remus finds him without the help of the map. All he had to do was follow the smell of smoke.

There's a tiny pile of cigarette butts next to Sirius' feet where he stands under the Gryffindor quidditch stands, staring between the cracks in the boards. Remus vanishes the litter pile as he joins him, taking a look for himself at what's behind the boards of the stands and sees the Slytherin quidditch team running drills and there, floating a little higher than the rest and wearing the Seeker's uniform, is Regulus.

"This isn't my idea of the most ideal spot to give yourself lung cancer." Remus says, rocking from heel to toe to emphasize the way the brown grass under his feet squelches from melted snow. Sirius huffs in response, flicking the finished cigarette onto the ground and pulling out another. Remus wishes he hadn't vanished the butts from earlier so he knows how many Sirius has had.

He doesn't need to ask why his boyfriend is hiding to watch his brother practice quidditch. Remus is well aware of how Sirius woke them up just before dawn that morning, screaming for Regulus and begging his parents not to hurt him. Remus had been the one to wake Sirius up, getting hit by flailing limbs as Sirius fought against the people in his dream. He was the one who cast a silencio on the curtains of Sirius' bed while he cried and listened to Remus assuring him that Reg was safe in the Slytherin dorms, sleeping peacefully.

This has been the same drill ever since they were eleven years old.

When Sirius wakes up from nightmares, he's terrified and confused and will likely spend the rest of the day feeling the same way. He's outside of himself in the way that his head is still stuck at Grimmauld Place while his body sits in classes and stares absently out the windows. When teachers yell at him for not paying attention, Sirius startles back to reality with a look that suggests he'd forgotten where he was for a second.

Gone is the boy who laughs at all of James and Peter's jokes, or flirts with Remus every chance he gets. That boy was replaced by a haunted kid who still has to worry that he hasn't quite escaped his parents. And Remus has to watch Sirius go through days where he acts like he doesn't know who he is anymore. Days that make Sirius desperate to see his brother smiling just to reassure himself that they're safe for the time they're at school.

"He looks happy." Remus says, watching Regulus and his team dive at each other and laughing when they get too close.

Sirius grabs his hand then, squeezes it twice and then drops it to start walking away from the quidditch stands. Remus follows him, offering silent companionship as they walk together back to the castle. Dinner will be soon, though Remus doesn't think Sirius will want to go. They'll probably spend the night wrapped around each other in Remus' bed, talking about James' failed dating life or anything else that will distract Sirius.

It's a surprise when Sirius steps closer and allows Remus to put his arm around his shoulders. Sirius isn't often physically affectionate after he's had his nightmares. They make it to the empty dorm to find a note signed by Peter that he and James are serving a detention for McGonagall after dinner, and if they come back to see Sirius and Remus shagging (again) then they'll be kicked out of the room.

Usually a note like that would have Sirius giggling madly, instantly inspired to try and seduce Remus, which would inevitably work since Remus was so, so weak for his boyfriend who is so fucking pretty.

Except this time, Sirius barely spares a second glance at the note before he tosses it into the bin and walks over to his trunk to look for pajama bottoms. Remus watches him from across the room, already sitting on his bed in a simple grey shirt and pants. Sirius moves mechanically, like everything he does is based purely on muscle memory while his mind is far away from Gryffindor tower.

Remus sighs, pushing himself to stand up and walks to Sirius' trunk. His favorite pair of bottoms are sitting on top of everything else though they're going ignored while Sirius absently sorts through clothes, not paying attention to anything he's actually doing.

"Sears." Remus whispers, grabbing the pants and gently guiding Sirius to stand up away from the trunk. His eyes look different. They aren't as bright as Remus is used to seeing. They're glossed over and unfocused, looking off behind Remus' shoulder. Remus cups Sirius' jaw in his hand and leans in for a quick kiss, then leans away to watch Sirius' focus come back.

"There you are." Remus smiles, and thankfully Sirius smiles back, albeit a bit tightly. He takes the pajamas from Remus and changes into them right there in the middle of the room.

Sirius takes Remus' hand in his own once again to kiss the palm, then he guides them over to the four poster Remus has been sleeping in since first year, sometimes shared with Sirius.

Remus tucks him against his side and spells the lights to go out so they can watch the sky change colors as the sun sets outside the window. Remus takes comfort in the way he can feel Sirius' chest rising and falling against him.

"I hate them." Sirius whispers as the final ray of sun falls behind the mountains.

"I know." Remus says, because he's always felt the same way about Sirius' parents.

"They suck."

"They really do."

"I hate that I miss them sometimes."

Oh.

Remus really wasn't expecting that. Sirius Black, a boy haunted by more demons than most people will ever experience in their lives (and refuses to talk about it) just opened up to Remus about the darkest parts of his mind. And Remus has no idea what to say.

"Oh."

Remus regrets saying it before it even comes out of his mouth. He feels Sirius' muscles tense against the palm of his hand that was rubbing the other boy's back and finds himself wishing that a time rewinding spell existed.

"That's okay, Sears." Remus says in an attempt to fix it. "They were your family, it's okay that you... might miss what could have been."

Sirius immediately relaxes under him and Remus is able to let out a quiet breath of relief. His hand resumes stroking up and down Sirius' side, offering whatever sort of comfort he can.

"Part of me thinks it's not." Sirius says after a few moments of silence. "Part of me hates that I could let myself get so hurt about the people who wanted me dead when they should have loved me no matter the fucking circumstances."

Remus thinks about his own parents and how they've been the textbook definition of unconditional love over the years. When he was bitten, Hope and Lyall researched everything they could about how to keep Remus and others safe during transformations. They tried their best to make transformations as good as they were able just to make Remus' life a little easier. When he told them he's dating his best friend, a boy, they told him to bring Sirius home during the summer so they could properly meet him. Then they hugged him until he stopped crying.

His experience was the polar opposite of Sirius'. Walburga and Orion Black are the most disgusting people on the planet, in Remus' opinion. They threatened and harassed their own son with howlers just for breaking family tradition when he was sorted into Gryffindor. Sirius was tortured and abused just for the friends he has, never mind how happy they make him. His parents don't care about their son's happiness; they care more about the blood status and wealth of teenagers who had no say in the way they grew up.

If Sirius' parents are so evil to cast a crucio on him just for having muggle items in his room, then neither Sirius or Remus are so naïve to think that coming out to them would be a good idea. Walburga insists that her son is going through a phase of teenage rebellion and he will eventually grow up to see how despicable his taste in friends is. Orion is hell bent on marrying Sirius off to a respectable pureblooded girl as soon as he's old enough. If Sirius were to tell them about his and Remus' relationship... he wouldn't make it out alive.

The difference in their families is a cruel trick of fate.

"You deserve so much more than those monsters." Remus can't help the tear that rolls down his cheek.

"I forget that sometimes. When I remember all the things they've screamed at me over the years and every ugly word they've written to me, I forget that they're the ones in the wrong. Not me.

"Every minute I spent trapped in that house were the darkest moments of my life. And I still can't escape it. I still can't escape my parents, because every time I fall asleep they come to hurt me more. Then when I see you, or James, or Peter get a letter from your parents I find myself wishing that I had that. I start missing what kind of mum and dad I could have had."

It's quiet for a while after that. Remus is desperately trying to keep himself from crying, though he knows Sirius can feel the tightness in his chest as he tries to stop the silent tears from coming. Sirius Black is the most important person in Remus' life, and he just wishes that he could give this boy everything. Whatever it takes to see Sirius' pain go away.

Remus tilts his head to the side so he can press his lips against the top of Sirius' head and hold them there for a minute. He wants to give Sirius the world, but for now he'll start by being the rock.

"I fucking hate that my sick and twisted mind takes the darker things that've happened in my life and makes me miss them in some sinister way. I guess my parents thought that if they couldn't have the son they wanted, then they'd ruin the one they already had. And they succeeded."

And that's it. Remus has Sirius pinned under him in mere seconds, gripping his shoulders to ground himself.

He expects to see confusion, surprise, concern, anger, anything on Sirius' face. But there's only emptiness.

"Please don't talk about the love of my life like that." Remus begs over a broken voice. "You are worth so much more than your family's stupid fucking reputation and wealth. You always have and forever will be the most amazing person I've ever met. I can see the promise of everything you have to offer in your smile alone, Sirius. I'm not going to let them take that away from you. The world would be lost without it."

The wall breaks, and Sirius' dam of apathy falls away to the flood of grief he's kept buried inside of him for so long. Remus falls to Sirius' lap as he pulls him up to a sitting position. Remus hugs him as hard as Sirius is hugging back. He starts to sway them side to side, like Hope would do for Remus after a moon. Luckily it has the same calming affect on Sirius, like it did for him as a kid.

"What helps you when you feel like this?" Remus asks, because he's going to hold onto the answer and use it forever if it will help Sirius.

Sirius pulls away from Remus' chest and wipes his eyes with his shirt. A half-hearted laugh comes out of his mouth as he looks up at Remus the same way Remus is looking down at him. Love. Adoration. James told him once that they look at each other the exact same way.

"You. You help me. The sunshine to break through the storm. Remember, Moony?"

Remus does remember. It was only a few weeks ago when Sirius promised to be the one who would pull Remus out of his own head. And Remus will promise to do the same. Always.

Don't cry my one We've only got so much time under the sun Don't cry my dear We've only got so much time here

#rscandyhearts #Wolfstar fic #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #mwpp era #writing #harry potter #fluff #angst #hurt and comfort #hogwarts #hp #harry potter aesthetic #imagine #headcanon #playlist #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter fic

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

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here is a part 2 of my valentine’s day one-shot from the other day!! part 3 of them actually celebrating is coming fri, but wanted to make it a lil countdown:) also big creds to @udontfuckangie for their post about ian getting mickey stargazer lilies for valentines bc it… truly made me feel so many things and i had to write this

Ian didn’t really remember ever celebrating Valentine’s Day for real— not like everyone else in middle school or high school, like when Lip was off buying flowers for girls or Mandy was trying to get the guy she liked to ask her out— but he definitely remembered celebrating it as a kid, when he’d have to scrounge up some shoebox from under his bed and bring it to his overcrowded classroom to cover with colorful construction paper and make shitty valentines to swap with his friends. Those were the days when Frank was around some, and so was Monica— he remembered one year, when he was maybe 5 or 6, when Monica was there and he had come home with a thin pink slip of paper from his teacher saying that he needed to bring in valentines for his class. Monica had whisked him down the street to the dollar store where they’d ransacked the rickety shelves of all the art supplies they could carry, and then they sat at the kitchen table for hours gluing glitter to cut-out hearts.

So maybe that’s why Ian’s heart had melted last Sunday, when Franny had mentioned that she needed to buy valentines for her class at school— Ian knew it was stupid, or whatever, but he knew how far a few solid childhood memories could go in this neighborhood, how those types of moments were the stuff you lived on for years afterwards when things got harder and darker. So while he’d been caught up in so much shit lately, for a couple of hours on that Sunday afternoon all Ian wanted was for Franny to soak up that feeling like a sponge—to make memories with her like the good ones that he’d had with Monica, the ones that stood out and burned in his chest like a hot branding iron when he remembered them.

And then a yawning, sleep-soft Mickey had stumbled into the kitchen, and the three of them were nestled beside each other at the table doing fucking arts and crafts; and for some reason it made Ian’s blood run hotter than usual, and got him thinking about how fuck it, he wanted to give Mickey a Valentine’s Day this year— not in the weird, heteronormative bullshit way, but in the way that he could just kind of… show Mickey how much he meant to him, how Mickey still made his heart feel like it was going to explode out of his ribcage even after the years they’d been together. This was the longest time that he and Mickey had ever been together consecutively, the longest time they’d slept side by side before something dark curled its fingers around them and pulled them apart, and he wanted to do something to acknowledge that— something to start their forever, as fucking cheesy as that sounded.

Of course, Mickey had no concept of Valentine’s Day or any of that shit, which made the whole thing all the more perfect— Ian wanted to catch him off guard, wanted to pull them both out of the funk that had been hovering over them for the months after the wedding, when everything turned brittle and stale once the bills started to pile up. They were better now—or at least they were trying to be— but it still meant something that half of their time being married had been spent navigating a fucking global pandemic and squabbling with each other and barely making ends meet.

So now it was the day before Valentine’s Day, and Ian was standing on a busy Chicago street corner in the bitter cold, watching the bundled passersby briskly walk by to scramble inside and stave off the chill. Ian hadn’t been to this neighborhood since his days working at the club, or maybe once or twice when he was hanging out with people from the youth center; the pristine glass storefronts with minimalist displays nearly blinded Ian’s eyes after the past ten months of being accustomed to the crumbling paint-chipped architecture of the South Side. But he was here on a mission; in front of him stood the high-end, boujee as fuck florist’s shop, one of the top-rated ones in the city according to the quick search he’d plugged into his phone.

Ian normally didn’t give a shit about stuff like this— to him, a flower was a flower, and a chair for a wedding was just a goddamn chair— but he knew Mickey, for some reason this sappy shit was a whole lot more important to him, no matter how hard Mickey tried to hide it. All the symbols and the fanfare meant something to Mickey—it meant that they’d made it, that they got to have a normal fucking life together, beyond both of their wildest dreams. So if Ian had to brave a stupid, gentrifying flower shop on a chilly Friday afternoon to make Mickey happy, then that was what he was going to do.

A soft bell tinkled as Ian entered the shop, immediately surrounded by the nearly-bare shelves of minimalist bouquets. The store was incredibly cramped and narrow, with overly-peppy music playing low, and was packed tight with wire-rimmed glasses wearing, re-usable bag toting hipsters standing in a line all the way to the counter. Shit. This line was going to take all day—and who the fuck knew if they even had what Ian was looking for? A looming pang of desperation started to churn in the pit of his stomach as he lurked by the doorway. Fuck it, he had to do this.

Before Ian really processed what he was doing he was quickly darting past the line, getting a series of dirty looks from everyone he shuffled by.

“S’cuse me, coming through, floral emergency.”

Finally, he reached the counter, sliding in beside some girl in her mid-twenties with a punk haircut. “Uh, sorry, can I just ask if they have what I’m looking for real quick?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “If you’re desperate enough to cut the fucking line, I’d say you’re worse off than I am. Men are fucking clueless.”

Ian nearly grimaced, but tried to twist his face into a soft, grateful smile. “Thank you.” He turned to the cashier at the counter, a dude with a man bun and a floral button-up shirt who looked pretty amused by this whole situation.

“It’s the day before Valentine’s Day, honey. Everyone here is in a floral emergency.” The cashier sighed, looking Ian up and down appraisingly. “What’re you looking for?”

“Uh. I think they’re called… stargazer lilies? The ones that bloom at a specific time, or something? We were supposed to have them at my wedding, but then the venue got burnt down by my husband’s homophobic father, so we kind of had to pull the whole wedding thing together on short notice— it’s kind of a long story, but I really, really need to get these flowers for Valentine’s Day.” Ian leaned in close over the counter, hoping he didn’t look too desperate. “It’s our first one together and it’s been a fucking shitty year and it would just— it would mean a lot.”

Ian finally exhaled, and hoped by some miracle that this cashier, or someone in the fucking universe, would take pity on him.

The cashier pulled his glasses down to the bridge of his nose, tapping away at the iPad on the counter before glancing up. “Hmm. I’m sorry honey, you’re fresh out of luck. Those lilies bloom in the summer mostly, and no one around here really has them. You could maybe check one of the little flower shops down the street, they do special orders and stuff this time of year—but I’ll be honest, I don’t know if you’re gonna get these flowers by tomorrow.”

Ian felt disappointment bubble up inside him. Of fucking course there were none of these obscure flowers in Chicago the day before Valentine’s Day— he’d had this grand idea of giving Mickey a perfect Valentine’s Day, of starting off on the right foot, and he still put this shit off until the last minute and couldn’t give Mickey what he deserved. Mickey would’ve never made this mistake.

Ian cleared his throat. “Shit. Well, uh, thanks anyways.”

He turned, heading for the door and getting ready to be assaulted by the bitter cold again. Okay, there were a couple flower marts down the street, he could try that— but he had a sinking feeling that the results would be the same, that he’d be left empty-handed tomorrow with nothing to give.

Okay. Focus. I’ve gotta plan a bunch of shit for Valentine’s Day by tomorrow.

What would Mickey do?

The flat drone of the dial tone made Mickey’s head buzz, the same dull vibration he’d heard dozens of times that week. Finally, he heard the click of someone answering.

“Hello, this is Sizzlers, how may I help you?”

“Hi, it’s, uh, it’s Mickey Milkovich. Again. I’m just checking in one more time to make sure we’re all good for tomorrow?”

There was a silence on the other end of the line, like the hostess was taking a moment to compose herself. “Yes, Mr. Milkovich. Since this is the… seventh time you’ve checked in in the past week, I believe, everything has definitely been arranged as you requested.”

Mickey cleared his throat. “Uh, good. Thanks. We’ll be there for our reservation at 8.”

He clicked his phone off and flung it down onto the bed. It had been nearly a week since he’d decided he was going to try to give Ian some kind of Valentine’s Day like the normal fucking couple Ian wanted to be, but he had to admit, this shit was hard work; he had to think of the perfect place he wanted them to go, had to call and make a reservation and arrange everything perfectly— and then there was the matter of deciding what to get Ian, because apparently married people also got each other fucking gifts on Valentine’s Day, which sounded like overkill to him. He’d been scrolling through Buzzfeed “Valentine’s Day Gift” lists for the better part of the afternoon, and even snuck some of Debbie’s chick magazines into the bathroom to sift through articles like “Ten Things to Get Your Man for Valentine’s Day” or “Best V-Day Gifts for Newlyweds.” Finally, after fucking days of plans stirring in the back of his mind, Mickey finally thought he had all of the pieces together; the reservation was made, the timing was set, and he’d even stopped by some fancy fucking chocolate shop on the other side of town on the way home from the Alibi earlier that afternoon.

Everything was planned—now there was just one thing left to do.

Mickey grabbed the crumpled piece of paper he’d set on the bedside table, the one he’d been staring at all week. Fuck it. He grabbed a discarded pen from the windowsill, from the collection of pencils that Ian kept next to his notebooks.

Mickey sighed as he put the pen to the paper. Now comes the hard part.

part 1 is here! and part 3 is here!

#this has been such a fun lil distraction this week!!!#actual cute fluffy content coming friday lol #<3 #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #ian x mickey #ian and mickey

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

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The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.3

Masquerade

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2950

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Despite the doubt you had your whole life, meeting Steve was a dream coming true. Too bad you had to meet his ‘family’ too.

Warnings: swearing, FLUFF, Steve’s friends being Steve’s friends... go figure

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

An average American had sex on the third date; taking the big step in a relationship, as your friend helpfully remarked when you told him about the upcoming event. Needless to say, Steven Grant Rogers was not an average American. He was Captain America, i.e. an Avenger, technically was 95 years old (soon turning 96) and was not used to the pace of 21st century relationship.

To be honest, you didn’t mind a bit; there was no physical pressure on your relationship. Sure, the man was such a fine specimen it should be illegal and you would love to climb him like a tree, but it was a nice change of pace. You never really liked the whole third date thing. When you felt like it should happen, it should happen, right? That was how you saw it, so you were alright with Steve being a bit old-fashioned when it came to physical stuff.

Of course, he was also your soulmate. While with other guys you didn’t feel the need to rush, with Steve, you somehow felt a need not to rush. Maybe you were overthinking his sensibilities, maybe not. The bottom-line was: you took it slow.

So, with the fact that a kiss on a cheek – from you to him – happened on your second date (if the diner counted as the first) given, you truly didn’t expect him to… push you into anything even resembling a second base. Hell, you weren’t sure you were on the first.

An average American had sex on the third date. You, having your third date with Steve Rogers, were about to take a different important step; to meet his friends. On a party. Steve’s (supposedly secret) birthday party. Oh boy. To say you were intimidated by the idea of meeting the Avengers would be an understatement.

And Steve wasn’t helping.

“They are… perhaps a bit much, but… they are the only true friends I have. I want you to meet my friends. I’d like to introduce you,” he stated while you walked side by side in a park at the end of your date number two.

Your hands had been brushing his and vice versa for several minutes now and you couldn’t handle it, simply interlacing your fingers with his. He gave you a sweet smile when you did so, signalling he was more than okay with it, drawing a circle on the back of your hand.

“But… what if they won’t, uhm, approve of me?” you asked, your insides uncomfortably clenched.

He stopped in his tracks, forcing you to do the same. His free hand slowly rose to your arm, gently squeezing.

“They will. And if they don’t… they will with time. You’re my soulmate. I think we have the most important approval in our pocket already.”

The smile he gave you was soft yet blinding, making your heart grow. You had only met the second time and you already seemed to know each other for months, responding maybe hesitantly, but instinctively the right way as if something between you was reaching out, guiding one another. It was wonderful. A bit scary, but immensely wonderful.

You were gazing into his eyes, swearing you could see galaxies. You quickly learned to love the little green in his irises, staining the sky blue, somehow making it… better. Your mouth acted on its own.

“Okay. I’ll… okay.” Did you just agree?! “What the occasion will be?”

He cleared his throat, lowering his gaze. “My birthday.”

“What?!”

“And before you think of going crazy about a gift for me-“ he stopped your train of thought before it started – how did he know? “-when you show up, it will be the greatest gift.”

Sappy, whispered a small voice in your head.

You love it, sing-sang your heart, melting.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured and he flashed you a smile.

“Very.”

“Fine. But remember, you asked me not to give you anything…”

“Noted.”

You bit your lip as you stared at him, your heart about as fast as your mind. The way he was looking at you… was it possible to look at someone you barely just met this way? If you didn’t think you must have appeared the same when looking at him, you would call bullshit. But here you were.

Before you could change your mind, you listened to the instinct coming from god knew where; you got on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

You retreated slowly, watching his reaction, rewarded by his gaze full of wonder and happy sparks.

“Early birthday present?” he muttered, his eyes falling on your lips for a split second. You licked your lips unwittingly, watching his eyes quickly turn away, his Adam’s apple jumping. Not a perfect gentleman then. Good.

“If the shoe fits… it’s just—it felt right. Was it weird? It was-“

“-perfect,” he finished, tightening the grip on your fingers interlaced with his.

You smiled automatically at his sincere expression.

“ ’kay.”

“Now let’s get you home so you can get your sleep. Can’t keep you awake with a work day in sight…”

“That’s really thoughtful, you know,” you said, meaning every word. “You are.”

“Which is why I think the party would be a good occasion. You can always hide in a crowd if it comes to the worst and Tony’s too annoying.”

You chuckled and started walking again, joy filling every ounce of your being as his thumb caressed the back of your hand once more.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

A package was waiting for you at your apartment that evening, containing a mask, because apparently, it was a masquerade ball. You were glad Steve had got you a mask fitting with your dress; when he had asked a colour, you had assumed he had wanted to get a matching tie. This was much worse. And much better.

A taxi picked you up. And Black Widow waited for you at the lobby of the famous skyscraper, apologizing for Steve who was busy at the moment, the birthday boy he was, and she casually slipped in that she might have searched some database, found you via your ‘first words’ and sent Steve your way without him being aware.

You were shocked, no arguing there, but realized she had done… what she had been supposed to do.

“Oh… o-okay. Thanks, I guess…”

“You’re not upset?” she asked on the way up in the elevator, clearly surprised.

You shrugged. “Well, I already had the words on my skin, right? This was the way it was meant to happen then.”

The not so intimidating spy hummed thoughtfully, putting on her mask. Also, she looked absolutely gorgeous and you had no idea why Steve would ever look your way. Besides his soulmark. You were a lucky, lucky bitch, just like Ryan had said.

You followed Natasha’s suit, hiding your face as well. You actually felt better, shielded from awaiting prying eyes at least partly.

Natasha had smuggled you in with no trouble (because you weren’t an official guest, Steve’s idea so you had a bit of privacy, you loved him for it) and here you were, a second glass of champagne in your hand as you watched Steve leave the little podium after he thanked everyone for coming.

The good news was that no one had spotted you or tried to make conversation with you.

The bad news was that it included Steve who seemed too busy with anyone else; not for the lack of trying to escape as it seemed though.

You toyed with the idea of approaching him too, but you were too much of a chicken. When Hawkeye was talking to him for instance, you wouldn’t have come to interrupt them. However, you caught Steve scanning the room few times; you wondered if he noticed you… could he though, in the mask? You felt invisible, both in a good and a bad way. Maybe you should just-

“What’s a lady like yourself doing here, drinking alone?” a voice startled you on your left, nearly making you drop the half-empty (or half-full) glass. Your hand flied to your chest as if holding your suddenly thundering heart in.

“Jesus… you startled me… Mr.Stark,” you added in horror when recognizing him as one of the masked people on the podium earlier.

“Hm… looks like your conscience isn’t clean then, when you’re scared so easily. Why is that?” he pried and you gulped nervously.

Oh god, this meeting was already going even worse than you had imagined.

“I don’t know about that… are you enjoying the party?” you attempted a small talk, hoping he would leave you alone until Steve somehow found his way to you.

He scoffed. “It’s a party. So, always. Plus, my place. Party organized by me. I’m enjoying it plenty. You?”

Your throat closed up. "Not really my scene, Mr.Stark."

"That's interesting. Because I can't recall inviting anyone whose scene this wasn't. I didn’t catch your name, miss…?"

Ha. Inviting you. Sure. And your name? Of course.

Shit.

"Isn't this S- Captain Rogers' party? I would think he was the one inviting people…" you couldn't help but snark, remembering Steve's uncomfortable expression when he had talked about the upcoming event. The thought behind the masks surprised you though – it was surprisingly fitting to Steve's personality. The masks were to remain anonymous, because all of the guest could be heroes in their own way.

"I threw it for him! And you're quite sassy. Who the hell-"

You were saved by Natasha Romanoff in all her glory, her hand delicately placed on Stark’s forearm as he gestured at you.

"Tony? We have a little trouble with the birthday surprise," she informed him swiftly and you barely hid the sigh of relief. You were starting to adore that woman.

"But-" he protested, his head turning from you to her and back and to her and back to you, as if he couldn’t decide what was more pending.

Oh please, let it be the surprise.

"They need you, right now."

"Fine. Keep an eye on her. I'm not done talking to her," he threw over his shoulder and the spy rolled her eyes as he blended in the crowd.

"...thank you, Ms.Romanoff."

"Natasha," she reminded you, lopsided smile on her face.

"Sorry. Natasha."

"Don't worry about it. Go some have fun," she beckoned to the dance floor and then to the bar as if you should choose whatever you preferred. You would prefer Steve, to be honest, anywhere.

"Yeah, like I said to Mr.Stark; not really my scene."

She grinned when you shifted uncomfortably. "Then I guess it's good that your knight in shining armour is approaching."

"What?" You whipped around to follow her line of sight, not seeing anyone, and when you spun back to her, she was gone. "That wasn't freaky at all…"

You shook your head, sipping on your drink again.

"Are you enjoying the evening, madam?"

A smile spread your lips at instant and you faced him, relieved. It was like everything was about to be alright all of sudden. You even accepted the fact he approached you as if you were a stranger, playing along.

"Captain Rogers, good evening."

"What gave me away?"

You chuckled, many possible responses flying through your mind.

Your voice tingling my spine. Your broad shoulders and arms which I want to hold me down. Your ridiculously pretty eyes. Your lips…

"You're hard to miss, Captain."

An almost patronizing smile graced is lips. "Please, call me Steve."

You bit your lip, not even having to pretend nervousness. God, he looked amazing. The perfectly fitting suit, the bowtie, the mask… he looked like a Disney prince. You didn’t mind imagining you were in a fairy tale; it simply felt like being in one.

"Steve," you repeated obediently, maintaining your role. "Isn't it a better question if you are? Enjoying the evening, I mean? It is your night after all."

"I do now," he emphasized, his eyes wandering all over you, settling on your partly hidden face. The mask was barely covering your upper face, leaving the better part of your cheeks and lips free. Still, it gave you the feeling of being hidden enough; nevertheless, in front of him, you felt naked, as if he saw right through. For some reason, it wasn’t scaring you so far.

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I found what I was looking for."

"Is... is that so? And…" you swallowed thickly under his intense eyes. "And just what were you looking for?"

You expected him to simply say ‘you’, but he managed to take your breath away, causing you to break your character in a fraction of second.

"The most beautiful and enchanting woman in this room, naturally."

His irises twinkled with mischief as he was clearly enjoying making you nearly squirm, but his pleasant voice held a serious note, not leaving a doubt that he meant every word.

"Christ, Steve, make me blush like a schoolgirl, why don't you… but thanks, I guess. Though you should probably have your eyesight checked."

"My vision is 20/20, madam, maybe better." He smiled warmly, reaching out a hand. "May I have this dance?"

You couldn’t say you weren’t taken aback. Mostly because… well.

"I'm not great at dancing," you admitted sheepishly, but accepted his hand in order to shorten the distance between you. You stood nearly chest to chest now, the feeling intoxicating. Despite fearing you would make a fool of yourself, you got chills from the proximity, pleasant ones.

"Just another prove of being perfect for me then. I'm not great either."

"So why did you ask?" you chuckled, relieved that at least you wouldn’t be alone in this. He tugged at your hand, pulling you even closer.

"Wouldn't forgive myself if I haven't tried to ask the prettiest dame of the evening and win a… uh, resemblance of a dance. Please?"

What you could see from his handsome face was pleading you. Who were you to deny him? Especially with how he was just dropping compliments like that, effortlessly? You could turn into a puddle of jello and you wouldn’t notice.

"You're too sweet, you know that?" you whispered and his smile widened when leading you onto the dance floor.

"I'm trying."

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Tony smelled something fishy. Everything was alright with the surprise fireworks. Romanoff was pulling his leg. Why?

He soon found out or he believed so.

"...is that Capsicle dancing?" he blurted out when he spotted the broad shoulders (never admit that out loud, he reminded himself) with a hand on it.

"Hm?" The sneaky spy smiled absently, following Tony’s line of sight. She sounded unimpressed then. "Oh. Looks like it."

"Whom he would be dancing with- Romanoff! I told you to keep an eye on her!" he yelped when he recognized the dress… and the woman wearing them. Well, didn’t recognize; that was the problem really. Who the hell was she and how had she got in? This place was a Fort Knox, especially tonight. Invited guests only.

"I guess someone else has an eye on her."

"What's up?" Clint hummed as he spotted Tony’s indignation.

"He's- he's-!" he gestured towards the supersoldier, unable to form words.

What was happening here? Why was Romanoff so chill? They had an intruder! She might not look like it, but she was a part of the security tonight!

"Rogers' dancing. Stark's having a stroke," she explained, indifferent.

"Who's having a stroke?" Bruce joined them with a beer in his hand. Tony threw his hands in the air.

"Stark," Nat replied, Clint too busy watching Cap swaying calmly in the rhythm; more or less.

"No one’s having a stroke!" Tony hissed. "This isn't fu-"

"Is that Steve dancing? Who's the woman?" Bruce seemed intrigued, exchanging a glance with Clint.

"She's very beautiful. The captain chose his dance partner well,” Thor hummed behind Tony's back all of sudden, making the billionaire jump in fright. Natasha snickered. Tony pointed an accusing finger at her.

"Stop that! It's your fault! You were supposed to watch her, because I sure as hell haven't invited her."

"She wasn't invited?" Clint finally sounded alarmed and Tony shot him a grateful look. Someone cared!

"Relax, Stark. It is my fault, I was the one to smuggle her in."

“What?!” he cried out, causing few people around them to raise their eyebrows. Natasha rolled her eyes at them.

"Really? Is she a friend of yours? From… business?" Bruce pried carefully and Natasha snorted.

"Barely. But you'll meet her, don't worry."

"She is not posing a treat then?" Thor summed up nothing, his briefly tensed shoulders relaxing.

That was it?!

"Sure isn't," Natasha uttered, the corner of her lips twitching. God, Tony hated Russian spies and their secrets.

"Then I might ask her for a dance!” Thor exclaimed, his grin wide. “She is exceptionally beautiful lady indeed."

"Careful not to step on someone's toes!" Natasha called after him and he made his way to the dancing pair.

"I'm gonna ask her right after him!" Tony declared immediately, disappearing into the crowd and Natasha smirked. She knew you were nervous about meeting them and this was actually rather good way. She just hoped Tony wouldn't annoy the hell out of you.

"And by someone you mean Steve?" Bruce guessed, which earned Natasha a challenging eyebrow from Clint.

"Maybe."

"Did you push her towards Steve or did you sneak her in here, because he asked you to?" Clint asked the right question like always.

She smiled at him playfully. "I'll tell you later. Stop being so nosy, Barton."

"Not fair…" He huffed and went to the bar for a refill, no doubt being determined to see how it would all play out. Natasha chuckled.

"Would you… like to dance?" Bruce asked all of sudden, making her lose her humour, only a brief smile remaining. Sweet.

"Sure, why not..."

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Part 4

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Tags: @cxptain @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx , @murdermornings@irepostthingsiwanttoseelater , @polarcrystall @eliza5616, @rayofdawnworld @victor-criss-bish @skychild29 @elysianecho @simmisblog @scentedsongrebel @orions-nebula, @sergeantrosabellaswan @songofcosplay, @ilovesupersoldiers @wxstedhexrt

Tags are open ;) If you want in or out, shoot me a message or an ask :))

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Steve from Spiderman: Homecoming taking a chair to sit with me:

“So, your fic got a bit longer than expected. Again…. “

Oops? I need a lot of fluffy Steve, amazing Natasha and exasperated Tony in my life :D

THANK YOU FOR READING :-*

#MARVEL #FANFICTION #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #soulmate AU #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfic #fluff #avengers #captain america #steve rogers #soulmates #the best mistake of my life #anika ann

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