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junghelioseok · 4 years ago

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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enzenwriting · 3 years ago

Text

attention, please!

08 Neighbour gang gang (written part 1.3k words)

08 neighbour gang gang (written part 1.3k words)

written part below! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Jungwon walks toward what seems to be a neat flower shop. In fact, it was more than neat. It was really cute and easy to the eye. Maybe the owner is also nice enough and directs him to the nearest re-route to his aunt's apartment without having to go back to the dorm. Jungwon walks in with a small “excuse me” hoping the find the owner, to what he imagines to be an old woman in an apron fixing flowers. However, his steps comes to halt when he feels a heavy atmosphere before a broad man turns around and meets his eyes. At that moment Jungwon felt his soul leaving his body, skin instantly getting goosebumps and suddenly it was hard to move away despite wanting to run out of the shop. The idea of being able to defend himself through his 7 years of taekwondo training is long gone and forgotten.

Jungwon finds a man behind the counter, hair hidden from the towel neatly wrapped around his head and the lines on his forehead prominent as his scrunched brows. His eyes darted back at Jungwon paired with a frowned lip. All of that with a thick, dark and heavy aura around him which Jungwon suffocates on and in Jungwon’s pretty little head all of this concludes as the man as member of a gangster. Jungwon wants to talk or maybe walk away too but it seems he can't do both. His words stuck in his throat, his knees locked and his heart almost beating out of his chest.

“Hello, stranger! How can I help you?” Suddenly, the man behind the counter beamed. Scowl no longer evident on the man’s face and replaced with what Jungwon would consider being a confuse look, although he still felt intimidated. Jungwon opens his mouth but his throat fails to voice out anything. At least this wasn’t happening in a stage performance he thinks to lighten up himself

“Stranger? Oh? You resemble Ms Ya-”

“D-Do you perhaps know a way to Apartment building 127” Jungwon doesn't know where the courage comes from but he guesses it's better to ask now and get a half-assed answer and run away from this place as soon as possible.

“Oh! I knew it! Are you perhaps Ms Yang’s nephew?!” The man beams again. Once again, the soul which has probably returned to his body escapes again. Maybe if his soul keeps leaving his body, he’ll eventually faint and he won’t have to deal with this situation or encounter the man again.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m probably scaring you right now. I’m Ms Yang’s neighbour.” Aunt lives next to a gangster?! Unable to process anything anymore, Jungwon just nods in order to end the conversation. Anything to end the conversation now!!

“My shop doesn’t close in another hour though.” The man ponders. “How about you take a seat and I'll make you a tea so I can drop you off later!”

“N-”

“Dad I got your dumplings!” a familiar voice rings in Jungwon’s ear. He’s heard of that voice before, maybe in another tone but he can’t be mistaken. His curiosity ends when the girl walks past him to hand a bag to the man. That uniform.

“YN! My baby goldfish! Thank you for dropping these off!” YN... As if this situation couldn't get any more uncomfortable. Of course, it was the bully and the bully’s dad. “Oh right! Since you’re on your way home, how about you take.. uh What’s your name boy?”

“Uh.. J-Jungwon, Yang Jungwon”

“Right! How about you take Ms Yang’s nephew, Jungwon with you back to the building. He’s still unfamiliar with the place.” You stay quiet for a bit. Not prepared to meet new people today you think. Looking back at Ms Yang’s nephew, you can’t help but think he is really pretty and excludes bright energy in contrast to what people say you give. Maybe too pretty and bright for your eyes so you quickly look away but you try your best to give him a natural expression, avoiding the feared resting bitch face.

In Jungwon’s eyes, it was his first time seeing your face without you looking down or your hair blocking your whole face. It seems like looking intimidating runs in the family quite strong. He’s not sure if you’re glaring angrily at him for having to show him around or just staring at him but he thinks your features aren’t as intimidating as your dads’ or as intimidating as the energy you give off in school.

“Just follow me” Oh You’re definitely angry he thinks but follows you as you walk out of the building anyway.

“Nice meeting you Jungwon! Don’t hesitate to visit again to rest up in my shop when you need and next time you visit the apartment, I’ll cook you a lot of delicious food and give you flowers!” He hears your dad yell.

The walk back to the building is quiet. Neither of you spoke but he’s thankful you’re not taking the route back to his dorm. You walked slow but still led him and looking back to check if he was following well from time to time, but Jungwon sees a scowl every time you turn around which he notes to look away every time. If you didn’t want to walk with me, you should’ve refused! It’s not like I want to walk with a bully either! He thinks. The walk takes around 15 minutes with the pace but you both eventually reach the building gate. You finally stopped walking before you look back at him to check if he’s fine but you find Jungwon looking back at you already.

“What?” you nonchalantly asked, unconsciously with your rbf.

“You know... I was made to go back to school like a normal person. I’m not trying to make you mad either. I just messed up a few times, but it really wasn’t on purpose. I just want to attend class normally and maybe make friends in class like everyone else now I’m forced to go back to school. If only I wasn’t associated with you! Classmates who would like to be my friend wouldn’t stay away from me.”

“huh?” Jungwon sees your eye look him up and down quickly and his life flashes before his own eyes. “Wh-what can you repeat all of tha-“

“T-that... T-that’s all! t-thanks for showing me the way! I think I can find my way here!!!” and with that, he runs off. Jungwon quickly finds himself in his aunt’s apartment. Having visited the place numerous times before he became a trainee, he keys in the code and runs inside.

“Jungwonie? Is that you?”

“Aunty! The bull- I mean I met YN and her dad” He yells, running towards the kitchen table where his aunty is sitting down.

“Oh, you’ve met them? Did you say hello properly? They help me a lot and occasionally make me delicious food-”

“Aunty! How can you just trust them like that! You don’t know what kind of people they are!! Just look at them! Are you sure they aren’t part of dangerous gangs? I’ve heard they’re really on the low-”

“Yang Jungwon!” His aunt raises her voice, stopping the boy. “Didn’t you become an idol to show that anyone can be themselves without prejudice and spread the positive message? What you’re doing right now is the opposite.”

Jungwon looks down not knowing how to respond at the reaction. “We didn’t teach you to be like this, do you understand? You haven’t gotten to know them properly so please don’t judge them based on their looks. How many times have you talked to them properly exactly? It’s extremely rude”

Oh. Maybe I was being rude. “I’m sorry Aunty.”

“That’s fine. YN and her father are good people, okay? If you still don’t think so after you’ve properly met them, I’ll try to go to your dorm instead of having you meet here okay?” Jungwon nods quietly. “Now say ah”

Jungwon reacts on instinct like a child, opening his mouth his aunt feeds him a spoonful rice with curry. Jungwon hums at the taste. It was delicious. The most he had tasted if he even dares say so.

“It's good, right? YN’s dad made this!” Jungwon eyes widen His aunt’s words repeating itself as he chews on the food.

08 Neighbour gang gang

♡Summary: When Enhypen are forced back to attend class, Jungwon is determined to fight or flight; by tying to get out of school or trying make the best of ordinary school life. What would happen when he comes across the rumoured bully who happens to be his aunt’s neighbour who is really good at making cookies?!

a/n: this chapter ending feels like a cliff hanger? maybe? idk.. just me ig.

taglist: (open! pls message to be tagged!) @hiqhkey @lovnayeon

♡ masterlist previous / next

#enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #yang jungwon #enhypen yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon smau #yang jungwon smau #yangjungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x reader #enhypen scenarios #jungwon fluff #jungwon scenarios

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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Crush

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 3,349 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Crushes, Fluff and smut, Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Manhandling Summary: Hotch has had a crush on the new member of his team for as long as he can remember. He keeps his distance, but he knows everything about her—her favorite snacks, how she takes her coffee. They share a room on a case, and at first, he's nervous, but being around her is comfortable, and he longs for more. Is it possible she feels the same way about him? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below!

Aaron has a crush on the newest member of his team. There’s no use denying it, or trying to compartmentalize it and pretend it doesn’t exist; it’s inappropriate, irresponsible, and just plain stupid, but he can’t talk himself out of it no matter how hard he tries. He is completely infatuated with her, whether he likes it or not.

And he does like it, sometimes. Sometimes, she will catch his eye on the jet, or in the office, shoot him a soft smile, and his heart beats fast, his chest feels warm. He thinks, I might never get to be with her, but she does think of me, and that’s something, at least.

Sometimes, he hates it, especially times like these, when they’re all on the jet and Morgan is using every ounce of his charm and charisma, the easy smile he doesn’t think twice about flashing, to try to get her to go out on a date with him. She hasn’t accepted the offer yet, and he’s been trying for about five months, almost the entirety of her career at the BAU, but that doesn’t make Aaron feel any better.

He knows Morgan very well. He’ll convince her eventually, and even if it doesn’t go anywhere, he’ll think about the two of them together all the time and never be able to stop. It will take his (mostly) innocent crush to a darker place, a place of anger and jealousy he’s not proud of, but has no control over.

“I would take you on the most incredible date of your life, mama. Dinner, dancing, a moonlit stroll; we go out for a couple of drinks, maybe I'll try to steal a kiss...”

“Maybe I’ll punch you in the face...” she says with a smirk, but he knows flirting when he hears it, and her threat carries no weight. Morgan shrugs, grins.

“Maybe, but I can take a punch. You need a man, and I am fully prepared to be that man; one little love tap won’t stop me.” She raises her eyebrows, looks over at him with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, first thing’s first: I don't do love taps, I do right hooks, so don't tempt me. Second, I don’t need a man, I want a man, and not just any man will do. When I want something, I want something specific. If I want dessert—”

Cherry cheesecake, Aaron thinks. He’s seen her order it three times, is slightly obsessed with the sound she makes when she takes the first bite.

“—I want cherry cheesecake or nothing. Not chocolate, not strawberry. If I want a glass of wine—”

Pinot Grigio if she wants white, Merlot if she wants red—she almost never wants red.

“—I want Pinot Grigio or nothing. If I have to have red, I’ll order Merlot, but I won’t be happy about it. When we’re on a case and I can’t sleep, and I come out to stare at the vending machine for a midnight snack—”

She either gets peanut butter crackers, or barbeque chips. That’s an easy one. Morgan has to know that.

“—I’ll get barbeque chips, or peanut butter crackers, or nothing. I am uncompromising when it comes to the things I want. So, Derek Morgan,” she says with a smirk, and a bit of attitude; it only makes Morgan smile brighter, and Aaron refrains from rolling his eyes, “when I want a man, I want a specific type of man, and I won’t be worn down no matter how many times you ask me out.”

“And what specific type of man do you want?” he asks, crossing his arms. Everyone is paying attention to their conversation, even Aaron, though he tries to pretend he isn’t.

“Well for starters, a man. You’re acting like a guy right now, and I’m not interested in guys.” JJ says ooh, burn, and everyone laughs. “I want a man who knows who he is, even if who he is isn’t pleasing to everyone. I want a man who isn’t afraid to feel vulnerable, who can be tender, who doesn’t run from a situation just because it makes him emotional. I want a man who pays attention to me when it counts, not just when he wants something. I want a man who will respect my boundaries,” she says, a little pointed, “who will help me grow but not try to change me. Most importantly, I want a man who can handle me, and I don’t think you can handle me.”

Aaron blinks hard at that. He’s pretty certain he could handle her, absolutely wants to.

“Alright, I can’t argue with a woman who knows what she wants, and it’s obvious you know what you want,” Morgan says, palms up in surrender. “Let me know when you find the lucky guy—man—so I can warn him about you.”

“Baby, I am the warning,” she says with a wink, and Aaron shifts in his seat.

It’s going to be a long flight to California. When they get to the hotel, JJ hands out the room assignments as usual, and he’s very surprised when she hands her a key out of the envelope marked 313, and then does the same for him. JJ shrugs.

“They didn’t have any singles, I guess. We’re all doubled up.” The other woman adjusts her bag on her shoulder, looks up at him.

“Is that a problem? I promise I won’t disturb you,” she says with a smile, and he shakes his head and, hopefully, his nervousness.

“No, of course it’s not a problem. Thanks, JJ. Looks like we’re this way,” he says, guiding her down the hall.

Their room is a little cramped, but clean, and he takes the bed closest to the door, sets his bag on it. She walks past him, throws her bag on the other bed and puts her hands on her hips, stares down at the ground. It takes him a moment to understand why.

“We could probably move your nightstand against the wall, share the one in the middle.” She looks up, confused, and he rubs the back of his neck. “You need room to lay down your yoga blanket, right? I know you’ve mentioned before that it helps put you to sleep when we’re traveling.” A brilliant smile curves across her face.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was trying to figure out. Thanks.” He moves to help her, but she lifts the table easily, tucks it in the corner between the desk and the lamp. She rolls out her blanket, pulls an outfit out of her bag. “I’m just going to get changed, and then the bathroom is all yours; I’ll be out of your hair.”

“It’s no trouble,” he says, and he means it; she just nods and smiles again, ducks into the bathroom to change her clothes.

Her outfit is… it’s tight, for lack of a better description, a strappy sports bra and patterned leggings; she does a lot of bending, and stretching, and balancing, her body strong and sleek. He tries to go about his business, but he can’t stop looking.

Once he’s finally able to convince himself to look away, lest she get suspicious of his inactivity, he changes his clothes, takes off his watch and sets it beside his gun, badge, and phone on his side of the nightstand. He pulls out his tablet to get caught up on the news, and it’s actually kind of comforting, the soft hum of her breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

He doesn’t realize she’s finished until she walks around between the beds, grabs her badge off the nightstand and slides her credit card out from behind her photo ID. “Heading to the vending machine; need anything?” she asks, and he shakes his head—he already brushed his teeth—earning one of her soft smiles.

She grabs her key, slips out the door, and returns a few minutes later with a pack of peanut butter crackers and a bag of peanut M&Ms—his guilty pleasure. She tosses them onto the bed beside him, and her lips twitch, and she strolls into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

He eats his M&Ms and does not imagine what she looks like wet.

Ultimately, he’s happy she was so thoughtful to bring him a snack, but that does mean he needs to brush his teeth again. The bathroom door is open, steam wafting out, so he figures it’s safe to enter while she finishes getting ready for bed. She’s standing at one of the double sinks, wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, brushing her teeth, and he steps up beside her and prepares to do the same.

It’s pleasant, companionable, the familiar sounds of scrape-scrub-spit, and then she washes her face with some foamy, herbal scented concoction he couldn’t begin to identify. He washes his with soap and a little hot water, and she cringes; he frowns.

“What is it?” he asks, toweling off. She hesitates a moment, then flicks open a blue bottle, squeezes a bit of cream into her hands, and lifts them toward his face, pausing with a question in her eyes. He swallows, but leans in closer, and she rubs it over his cheeks, his chin, his forehead.

“Soap like that isn’t good for your skin, not even for guys, and I figured you don’t moisturize. This stuff is unisex, and it will keep you looking young and fresh and handsome; you can have this one, I’ve got more.” She pulls back, washes her hands, and he’s left kind of dazed, longs for the feel of her hands on his face again. That was an unexpected, but very welcome, thing. The next morning, he’s up early, so he showers and gets dressed and then heads down to the lobby for some coffee and a paper. He grabs two cups, stacks them in his hand when he goes to unlock the door to their room; she is awake when he returns, freshly dressed, hair pulled back, and she takes the coffees from his hand before he spills them everywhere.

“Thanks. The one on the left is for you; two sugars,” he says offhand, grabbing his cup and setting it down on the nightstand, flipping open the paper. He sits down on the edge of the bed closest to the nightstand, doesn’t notice her smile, but she settles on her bed across from him, sips her coffee, and reaches up to pull the sports section out from between his fingers. He maybe cracks a smile of his own. That evening, they get back to the room a little cranky, another late night full of dead end leads, and she skips yoga and heads straight for the shower. The blissfully hot water feels good against her skin, and she thinks about touching herself, but it wouldn’t be appropriate, not with Hotch just outside the door.

The thought only makes her hotter, but still, she refrains.

When she’s wrapped up in her towel, she pushes open the door like the night before, starts brushing her teeth, and it’s not long before Hotch fills the space beside her, copying her actions. She washes her face, and he washes his with soap again—so, so wrong—but at least he uses the moisturizer she gave him afterward. Baby steps.

He leaves the room, and she follows him out to grab her pajamas, sees a bottle of water and a bag of barbeque chips laying on her bed.

Enough is enough, she thinks. She wasn’t sure, until they shared this room, but now she’s 100% certain that Hotch has a thing for her, and she’s harboring her own thing, which is stupid. If she wants him (she really, really does) and he wants her, why aren’t they naked already?

Thankfully, that’s easily remedied. She drops her towel, and Hotch looks up from his tablet, drops his jaw.

“I’ve been thinking about last night; how shy you were about our sharing a room. It made me wonder if you’re shy about other things, too.” She walks around her bed, stands between them, presses her fingers to his tablet to push it down, out of his hands. “Are you shy, Hotch?”

“No,” he says roughly, making no effort to conceal the way his eyes sweep over her naked body. She’d blush, but she’s not the blushing type.

“No?” She climbs up, settles in his lap—he’s tenting his boxers already and it makes her feel awesome—and his hands fall to her thighs, spread around him, squeezing roughly. She moans, rolls her hips slowly. “Do you think you can handle me, Hotch? I’m kind of a lot.”

He answers with his hands, grabs her face and pulls her down for a long, dirty, messy kiss. Her chest is heaving by the end of it, and she’s definitely leaving a wet patch on his underwear, she’s so fucking horny. He tips her back, so she’s laying against the sheets, tugs off his shirt, and drapes himself on top of her, tilts her head to the side so he can get his mouth on her neck.

“Oh my god, mmm,” she sighs as he sucks on her throat, grinding his clothed dick against her, and she moves her hands down to sweep them over his body, but he grabs them, pins them up by her head instead. “Fuck, Hotch.” It leaves her mouth as a trembling gasp, and he looks up at her, his eyes dark and hard; he growls out a command for her to stay—she’s sure as shit not going for a damn stroll any time soon—and leans up, pushes his boxers down, and flips her body over.

She’s laying a little sideways, kind of lined up with the bottom corner of the bed—it always makes her feel like a complete whore to fuck anywhere but right up against the pillows, so this alone is enough to get her super hot. He gets both broad palms on her ass, squeezes her hard enough to hurt (and damn if that doesn’t make her pussy drip) and then slowly slides his fingers over her slit, making her toss her head back and groan.

“Oh, yeah. So, so good,” she sighs as he rubs her, spreads her wetness between her lips, over her clit and her mound so she’s sticky and soaked and begging for more, and then he plants his hands on either side of her and thrusts in so hard she has to dig her fingers into the sheets or she’ll go skidding off the bed. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, clutching for dear life as he slams inside roughly and deeply, but so slow it’s almost torture.

“So how am I handling you?” he asks, low into her ear, leaning in to press his chest heavily against her back, rolling his hips and grinding where he’s seated deep. He pulls out almost all of the way and then slams back in so quickly her whole body stutters forward, and her head’s empty, no thoughts but my boss is fucking me and my boss is fucking me good.

She just pants in reply, and he repeats that motion over and over, fast, nearly withdrawing just to fill her until his balls slap against her; she feels filthy, and amazing, and a little pissed it took them this long to do this, and she comes screaming his name, yanking so hard at the bedding that she pulls the fitted sheet right off the mattress.

He keeps pumping inside her, and she clenches around him, moans. He grunts, leans in to nibble her ear. “That’s my girl. Can you handle me?”

“My god, yeah.” She wants to, at least; she’s never been fucked this good in her life, so she’s honestly not sure how much she can handle. It’s always the quiet ones, she really should have known.

“Trust me on this,” he whispers, and she does because she does; he puts his hands on her arms, pries them off of the bed and moves her forward, guides her hands to the floor to support her so she’s half off the bed, her ass up. She’s strong, and he knows she’s strong, but she’s not sure she’s strong enough for this because he just fucking destroyed her and her legs are still shaking. “Trust me,” he coos again, and he shifts up, gets one foot on the ground, holds tightly to her hips, and pounds into her fast and hard, short thrusts that have her moaning and groaning and coming a second time before he even comes once.

He does come, though, just after, and she’s glad she’s got an IUD because if not she’d be leaving here fucking pregnant, no doubt about that.

“Hotch,” she gasps, daring to reach an arm back to touch him, and he pulls her up, lays her back, and kisses her, smoothing his hands all over her body. “Jesus. That was incredible.” She cards her fingers through his hair—he’s breathing heavy too, looks as dopey and pleased as she feels, which makes her smile. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you for the last few months. Thought you didn’t notice me much,” she says softly, and he laughs, incredulous.

“Didn’t notice you? All I do is look at you,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She grins.

“Yeah, no, I got that. I figured that out; sorry it took me so long.” He leans in for a kiss, softer and slower, and she gets a little horny again, isn’t sure how that’s possible. “Why’d you stay away so much, if you liked me?” She’d done what she could to get his attention, smiling at him, brushing up against him when she could make it look innocent enough, but he’s always been the picture of propriety, maybe even a little distant.

“Morgan,” he says, making a face like he realizes how silly that was. “He’s been trying to ask you out and I figured you’d say yes eventually; he’s confident in ways I’m not. He’s a lot of things I’m not.”

“Yeah, that’s true, and I like you both for the ways you’re different, but his pursuing me has always been a game. A joke. He’s like a brother to me and he knows it. All in fun,” she says, and then he looks like he feels really silly. She leans up for a kiss. “All's well that ends well though, right?”

“Has this ended well?” he asks, a question in his eyes, and she runs her hands over his arms, his sides.

“If it’s up to me, I’d say this doesn’t have to end at all.” He puts a hand in her hair, kisses her deeply, passionately, and brings a few fingers to rub against her clit. She inhales sharply, licks her lips, and sinks back against the bed. “Oh my god, Hotch.”

“That’s right, baby. I’m your man,” he breathes into her ear, and she groans. Yes, he fucking is. The next morning, she goes to the lobby to pour their coffee, grab a paper to share. She passes Morgan—not a morning person—who grumbles a greeting and then does a double take.

“Whatcha got on your neck there, sweetheart?” he asks, and she grins privately, then schools her expression and turns to face him.

“What? Oh, that,” she says, poking at the purple hickey from the night before. “I’ll cover it with makeup later; needed my coffee first.” He blinks a couple times like he's missing something, frowns.

“Did you go out last night after we got here?”

“Nope, jumped in the shower and went straight to bed,” she replies, which is actually the truth. It just wasn’t her bed. She didn’t say anything about sleeping.

“Then who…?” It’s then that Hotch brushes by them, reaches out a hand for his cup.

“One sugar, one cream,” she says as she passes it over, and they both smile. Morgan knocks his cup over and spills coffee all over the floor.

Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female reader #ask #request #crush #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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fanficimagery · 3 years ago

Text

Lost and then Found pt. II

Imagine being taken by HYDRA. After years with them, they set you loose on someone you haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for HYDRA, you weren't as susceptible to their mind experiments like they thought. Now away from their influence, your only worry is making sure you're prepared for your baby to enter the world.

Words: 11.3K Author’s Note: I won't say I don't like this because there are some parts in here that I absolutely adore. However, it is rushed and it feels forced to me, but I needed to get this out so here it is. Also, I've never experienced childbirth so please ignore my mediocre take on it. Haha.

Tags: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @b1sexualtonystark @living-that-best-life @alexnicolaidisss @l0ve-0f-my-life @eliwinchester99 @mimilh @rosesloml @blackxwidowsxwife @meredeph @lexy9716 @wxnderingthoughts

The Avengers have grown accustomed to having a werewolf living among them and sitting in on mission briefings, but they put their foot down when you attempt to join them for missions. You want to desperately prove yourself to the group of assembled heroes, but you also very much want to protect the life growing inside your womb. So agreeing to stay home while pregnant, they eventually task you with setting up your own apartment the first time they all had to leave you behind.

Of course you weren't totally alone and Pepper had flown in to help you set up, her excitement for your pregnancy spurring on your own excitement even more.

You get settled quite easily and it shows how much trust you have in them when the full moons don't affect you like they normally would. Now others could come and go during the full moon, and you barely batted an eye at them. Unless it was Tony. Tony needed to be watched at all times after he attempted to rile you up purposely on the night of a full moon to see exactly how much control you had.

The slight swell to your abdomen eventually sets in and you couldn't be more proud of the roundness that was obvious when you wore a tight shirt. Wanda, too, was absolutely smitten with the small bump and the whole team was relieved to see her genuinely happy after everything she'd recently gone through. But Wanda wasn't the only one who doted on you- oh no. For some reason, the sight of your bump made the two super soldiers absolutely melt when your shirt was fitted and the bump was on display. Everyone knew it was inevitable for Steve to turn to mush, but it was Bucky who surprised everyone.

Bucky always made sure to sit close to you, snacks on hand and ready to make a run to the store when your cravings got the best of you. You'd even caught him reading a pregnancy book, but he looked so embarrassed when you caught him that you couldn't bring yourself to mention it to anyone else. And for that he was grateful- always letting you crawl into his lap when you had the urge to scent mark everyone.

Your cuddle sessions became more frequent, which made Wanda pout and Sam and Steve rather smug for some unknown reason to you.

It's cooler than normal around the living quarters given the rising summer temperatures and, though you normally run hot, your own body temperature has been up and down since you've become pregnant. So on this particular day you find yourself cuddled up to Steve, your left arm thrown over his waist and left leg draped over his legs. Your bump is resting near his hip and he smiles down at you every time you grumble about needing to pee.

"This baby is going to be the death of me," you mumble. "All I wanna do is cuddle, but no. I have to pee. Again!"

Leaving the comfort of the new couch that had been ordered for your specific cuddling tendencies- it could honestly pass for a bed with how spacious it is- you get up and take care of business in the bathroom. And then when you get back to the living room, you find that Bucky's taking up the other side of the sofa Steve is on.

"Yessss." You nearly skip back towards the sofa, crawling in between both men. "Supersoldier sandwich."

Steve snorts and then yelps when you manhandle him into scooting down until he's laying down again, then wrapping yourself around him like you had previously been. All the while Bucky is laughing at his friend's misfortune, but then you reach behind you and drag Bucky closer until you whine at him to spoon you. You smell rather than see his embarrassment, especially when Steve teases him to just spoon you already, and then you practically purr when you're enveloped in their warmth.

As Bucky settles behind you, you end up grabbing his metal arm and dragging it over your waist. He tenses, but you run your fingers up and down the back of his hand until he gets that you're okay with him- metal arm and all.

Stuck between two solid bodies, enveloped in their warmth and scent, is enough to send you off into a content light doze.

And then you're jolted back into consciousness when you feel Bucky freeze behind you. "What was that?"

"What was what?" You sleepily mumble.

"Your stomach. Are you- was that your stomach grumbling?"

This time it's your turn to freeze as you place your hand over his that's still crawling your bump. "You actually felt that?"

"Yeah." He chuckles.

"Holy shit," you muse. "It's way too early for anyone other than me to feel the baby. How the hell-"

"Wait, what?" Steve says, a whine lacing his tone. "Bucky got to feel the baby?"

You laugh as you move to turn so you're laying on your back, and both Steve and Bucky try to maneuver their hands around your small bump in order to feel the fluttering sensation. "This is insane. I can't believe you guys can feel it."

"I don't feel anything." Steve frowns.

"Don't pout, punk." Bucky smirks. "I can only feel it because of the arm."

Grinning, you reach up and lightly pat Steve's cheek. "Don't worry, Rogers. When the kicks start coming in, I'll go find you first."

The two men are distracted when the elevator dings open and Wanda steps off, the scent of food wafting from the bags she's carrying. Your nostrils flare and your mouth waters, and you start to pull free from Steve and Bucky.

Wanda smirks. "Hungry?"

"Always." Now free of the men, you hurry towards the kitchen where Wanda is laughing and pulling out containers. "Is that," you inhale deeply, eyes closing in bliss, "medium-rare steak, baked potato with the works, and.. and fries?"

"I even got that sauce from Arby's you like so you can dip your fries in it."

"Oh my god, you're my favorite."

"Hey!" Steve and Bucky shout from the living room. Wanda preens.

A couple more months pass and you're in awe of what your body is doing.

You're absolutely in love with your growing bump which now looks like there's a volleyball under your shirt, but for some reason you're unreasonably uncomfortable. You've been meaning to go shopping for maternity clothes, however, everything you've found online is not to your taste. You just want a simple loose shirt, but all maternity clothes seem to either have a floral theme to it or ruffles that you're not a fan of.

So stuck in one of your usual t-shirts that feels like it's stretched too tight and showing off the bottom portion of your bump, you walk around your apartment grumbling and shifting uneasily and trying to find a way to make yourself feel comfortable.

You're pacing around the room, hands rubbing along your swollen abdomen when there's a knock on your door. Agitated, a growl slips free. You stomp towards your door, another growl threatening to slip free, when you're stopped short at the sight of Bucky.

His eyebrow quirks at you and you sigh, trying to shake off your agitation. "Why are your eyes glowing, sweetheart?"

"I'm annoyed. I can't help it."

You swing the door open wider, but Bucky remains rooted to his spot. "Why are you annoyed?"

And just like that, the tears well up and start dropping one after the other. "I am so uncomfortable!" You cry. Bucky's eyes widen before he steps forward, arms loosely wrapping around you. "I just- I want to be comfortable. None of my shirts are fitting me and I- I just- I need-"

"Okay. Okay, shh." Bucky gently rocks you side to side. "Come on. Come with me."

Miserable, you agree and follow after Bucky to his own apartment that's just a few doors down the hallway. You're not sure what's going on when he tells you to wait in his living room and then disappears into what you can only guess is his room, and your brow furrows when he returns with a shirt in hand.

Sheepish, Bucky rubs the back of his neck with one hand while holding the shirt out with the other. "Here. You can use one of mine until you find something more comfortable."

You glance between him and the shirt, reaching for it as a smile starts to take form. And when you have the shirt in your hands, you readily strip out of your own shirt and huff a laugh when Bucky blushes and averts his gaze. Pulling on his shirt then, you groan with satisfaction as the material hugs you just right. "Oh heck yes." And then picking up the collar of the shirt, you can't help but deeply inhale the material and groan yet again. "This is exactly what I needed."

Bucky slowly smirks. "Good. Now let's go grab something to eat." He can't help but laugh as you latch yourself onto his arm, mumbling about him leading the way as your eyes close in pure bliss.

Your senses tell you Bucky's just leading you towards the communal kitchen, your nose twitching at the smell of food coming from it's direction. There are a few voices too and it's easy to pick out Wanda, Steve, and Sam.

Upon opening your eyes, you're met with amused and/or surprised expressions. "What?"

"Do my eyes deceive me or am I sensing a walk of shame?" Sam slowly smirks.

You and Bucky both frown as Steve and Wanda laugh at their friend's assumption. "Huh?"

"You're in Barnes' shirt," he says. "You cannot stand there and tell me you two ain't foolin' around."

It takes you a second to realize what he's saying, your mind connecting the dots when you feel Bucky tense next to your side. The slight embarrassment wafting off of him nearly makes you whine, but you swallow down the urge. Instead, you roll your eyes and say, "First off, if I was getting dicked down by this beefcake, there would be no walk of shame. I would happily tell you about length, girth, and every goddamn ridge on this man's dick." Wanda cackles as Sam's eyes bulge in shock, Steve then choking on his orange juice. "And secondly, I'm fat, Wilson!" You let go of Bucky, turning to the side and grabbing the sides of Bucky's shirt to pull tight over your swollen tummy. "None of my shirts fit comfortably anymore and Bucky was just helping a girl out." His mouth drops slightly as if he hadn't thought of that and you shake your head at him. Letting go of the shirt, you walk forward to sit at the kitchen island. "Do you seriously think anyone wants to get it on with a pregnant chick? Use your head, Samuel."

As you settle down, Bucky takes a seat next to you and you automatically lean into his side with your head on his shoulder. Wanda and Steve both smile, but neither of them say a word. Sam, however, just can't let this go. "So let me get this straight- you two are not boning in secret?"

"No," you say, fighting off a smile. "We're just friends. Which means you just lost the bet too because my bump is fully set in and there has been no sex." Sam, Wanda, and Steve slowly lose their amused expressions and this time it's your and Bucky's turn to be smug. "What? Didn't think we knew about that, did 'ya?"

"Y/N, I am so sorry," Wanda says, but you wave her off. "I didn't think-"

"It's fine, Wanda. We thought it was funny."

Bucky remains quiet, but his little grin lets Wanda know he was fine with the supposedly secret bet as well. Her shoulders seem to sag in relief and you readily accept the plate of bacon Sam nudges in your direction.

"So," Wanda muses, "you need to go shopping? I'm free today and tomorrow."

You grimace. "I guess so. As much as I want to, I can't steal the guys' shirts for the next few months."

"Good. We'll head out after you get something to eat."

Leaving the medical facility, you aimlessly walk back towards the family compound with several black and white photos in hand. You had known there was a baby growing inside of you, but it's just now truly sunk in after seeing your baby's profile instead of a blob with still-forming limbs. A slip of paper with your baby's gender is tucked into your back pocket, Doctor Cho having given it to you in case you wanted to know.

You're not exactly looking for the quiet of your apartment, so you remain in the communal living spaces in hopes of someone distracting you. Only when you get there, all is quiet.

Turning on the large screen flat TV, you put it on a random cooking show after crawling onto your sofa and getting comfortable. You've only managed to watch one entire episode, your interest captivated by the meals the chefs are putting together with only a few certain items from their basket, when the elevator dings.

You don't bother looking back, Bucky's scent wafting over to you before he even steps into your peripheral. "Hey doll, want some company?"

"Please," you groan.

Bucky toes off his boots and sits on the edge of the sofa, scooting back towards the middle until he's shoulder to shoulder with you. You sigh and lean against him, laying your head on his shoulder while your arms remain on your lap. "What's wrong?" Bucky immediately says.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're not cuddling me."

The tone of Bucky's voice makes you freeze, amusement blossoming. Slowly you lift your head and attempt to meet his gaze. "Are you- are you pouting because I'm not cuddling you?"

"No."

You huff a laugh, letting your forehead fall on his shoulder once more. After a moment, you lift his arm and settle underneath it as you cuddle him. Bucky chuckles and squeezes you just a little tighter against him. "Is this better?"

"A little. Now tell me what's bothering you."

You quietly groan, shifting under his arm until you reach to your other side and pick up one of the sonograms. "I had an appointment today," you say while handing him the picture. "It's just- I guess it's just sinking in that there's an actual living being growing inside of me."

"You mean all the kicking these past two months didn't give it away?" Bucky huffs in amusement. "Wow. Would you look at that?" He says. "The little nugget is really growing. Huh?" Your hormones get the best of you and you end up sniffling, tears filling your eyes. Bucky freezes. "Doll? Are you- are you crying?"

"How the hell am I going to do this, Buck? I'm a foul-mouthed werewolf who just recently escaped the clutches of HYDRA. What business do I have raising a baby?"

"Hey. Hey, look at me." Bucky gently nudges you so you'd glance up at him. With his flesh arm still tucked around you, his metal hand gently holds your sonogram between two fingers as he makes you look at it. "You're going to do just fine. You wanna know how I know that?" You sniffle and wipe the tears from beneath your eyes. "Because you have all of us- you have me- in your corner. This little nugget of yours will never want for anything as long as we're around."

His words only make the tears fall even more and you hide your face in his shoulder once more. He holds you tighter, shushing you and murmuring words about how you're going to be a good mother. If you could overlook everything HYDRA did to you in order for you to conceive this child and then go on to keep the child, then there was no doubt in his mind you were going to be a great mom.

As you sit there against Bucky and work on getting yourself under control, you can't help but notice that he turns the sonogram back towards himself to stare at it. You shift your head just right so you can see his face and it warms your heart to see him smiling at the profile of your baby.

The elevator dings again, this time dropping off Wanda. When she walks around the sofa and takes in your puffy, red-rimmed eyes, she freezes. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"She had a bout of insecurity." Bucky tattles on you. "It's fine now."

Wanda blinks at Bucky in surprise before looking back at you and you offer her a small smile. "New sonogram pictures. It's.. just sinking in that this is really happening."

Wanda glances at the small piles of pictures next to you, squeals, and then hurriedly picks one up. You chuckle as she coos. "Has Doctor Cho mentioned whether it's a girl or boy yet?"

You nod. "I, uh, I have the slip of paper that tells me. I haven't looked at it yet."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Wanda immediately takes a seat and you slightly lean to the side in order to pull the folded piece of paper out of your pocket. You hold it out to her and her eyes subtly widen. "You don't want to do it?"

"I do, but.." You trail off, shrugging. "It doesn't really matter to me. As long as I have a healthy baby I'm fine. You seem more excited for this than me anyway."

She slowly smiles, only taking the slip of paper when Bucky shrugs. He seems confused for a split second that Wanda would even seek his opinion, but then his expression is neutral once more and that's all the approval Wanda needs. She takes the slip of paper, opening it to peek at the gender. She gives nothing away. "Last chance. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lay it on us, Maximoff."

Wanda glances at the piece of paper once more before looking straight at you, a smile blossoming from ear to ear. "It's a girl."

Your breath hitches. "Yeah?" Your voice then cracks and tears immediately well in your eyes again.

Bucky squeezes you tighter to his side, chuckling, and Wanda's own eyes fill with tears as she nods. "You're having a little girl." A sob breaks free, even as you laugh, and the tears flow faster. Wanda crawls towards you and pulls you into a hug, crying softly as she rejoices with you. "If Pietro were here, he'd spoil that little girl rotten."

"Right?" You wetly laugh, pulling back and settling against Bucky once more. "I can already hear him. A little prinţesǎ," you coo, putting on an accent that was nowhere near what Wanda or Pietro sounded like. Both Wanda and Bucky laugh at your horrible accent, and your smile slowly falls as you fondly remember Wanda's twin. "I really wish he was here to meet her."

Her smile drops too, nodding in understanding. "Me too."

Wanda moves to replace the sonogram picture, but you shake her head and push her hand back. "No. That's yours."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You too, Bucky." You then glance at him, gesturing to the sonogram he still held. "I got copies for Steve, Natasha, and Sam as well. Even Doctor Cho happily kept one," you say.

"Thanks, doll." A kiss gets pressed to the side of your head and you can feel a rumble of content threatening to come out, but when you catch Wanda's gaze- her eyebrows wiggling causes you to frown and stomp down on the urge. "This is going up on my fridge."

Wanda smirks at you as you flush. "Yeah, well you're welcome."

Your friend can't stop smirking, but she's kind enough to not call you out on it in front of Bucky. "So baby shower?"

Now you groan. "Do we have to?"

And without missing a beat, Bucky and Wanda say, "Yes."

When word got around that Wanda was to plan your baby shower, you were surprised at how excited it seemed to make everyone. Apparently no one was immune to the impending arrival of your daughter, Clint having flown in to toss around some ideas and secure an invite for he and his family. Then when Tony and Pepper got involved, you had to make them promise that the shower was to not be over the top. But according to Tony, only the best was allowed for the next baby Avenger.

No one would tell you a thing about the baby shower, not even Bucky who you found yourself hanging out with more and more as the weeks went by. The surprise of finding you curled up in his lap was long gone and now when anyone was looking for either of you, it seemed they went to the other for your whereabouts. So a couple days before the shower, you thought you had won Bucky over and that he was moments away from telling you what you wanted to know about said shower, but Sam and Steve had given him one look and then quickly marched him out of the kitchen to keep him from spilling the beans. Afterwards, he stayed pretty tight-lipped, up until the day of said baby shower when Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper had you contained in your apartment while the boys took care of everything else in the communal living space.

As Natasha had you sit in front of your bathroom mirror, she did your hair and makeup for the party. So as you sat through her torture, you couldn't help but take a selfie with your fangs on display as you snarled at her smirking reflection in the mirror. Bucky had laughed at your picture and the only clue he gave to you about your baby shower was a picture of a sunflower.

Pepper and Natasha had several dresses for you to try on for the shower, but the outfit that won you over had been chosen by Wanda. It was an off-the-shoulder white short playsuit with lace detailing around your clavicle and thighs. You vetoed every heeled shoe until a pair of sandals were dropped in front of you and you let Wanda help you into them.

Once you were fully dressed, Natasha came to stand before you with her hands behind her back. When you narrowed your eyes at her, she smirked and produced a floral crown from behind her back. The flowers were fake, but the small versions of sunflowers and daisies were still pretty. So you bent your knees a little and let Natasha settle the crown atop your wavy hair, fixing your hair once more around your shoulders.

Then arm in arm with Wanda, you let your friends lead you out of your apartment and into the elevator. Your excitement was very obvious and the women couldn't help but chuckle as the elevator doors opened. Your excitement turned into awe at the sight of all the pink and white balloons, and the pink and purple floral garlands hanging from the corners of the room and around each table. There was a table for gifts and a table for finger foods, and of course there was no missing the three tiered pink and white cake. Everything was chic and girly and you absolutely loved it.

Tony, Bruce, and Helen Cho are huddled together, no doubt deep in a conversation about science. Clint and his wife Laura are there, along with their three kids milling about with another young girl who you remember is Tony and Pepper's daughter. And then there is Steve, Sam, and Bucky who each have a drink in hand and are chuckling quietly amongst each other.

"You know from all the stories I've heard, baby showers were meant for women only." At the sound of your voice, conversations taper off and smiles are directed towards you.

"Are you kidding?" Tony huffs. "I know all about the games played at these shindigs. I wanted in on the games and prizes."

"Of course you did." You then direct a smile at everyone gathered. "Thank you all for coming. This pregnancy wasn't exactly.. you know," you trail off, eyes lingering on the gathered kids who are surprisingly paying attention to your stomach, you say, "but I've grown to love this tiny human so much already before I've even met her and I'm just happy she's going to have such a great little community surrounding her."

"Aw look. You made Wanda cry."

You immediately glance to your right where Wanda's laughing, wiping beneath her eyes. "Shut up, Barton." And then, "So what are we doing first? I've never actually been to one of these."

"Games!" Laura and Pepper muse together.

Everyone chuckles at their enthusiasm and you let Wanda lead you to a seat. Pepper sits with Tony and Natasha finds herself being drawn to Clint and Laura, but she doesn't take a seat quite yet. You, however, are led to a sofa chair that Wanda takes a seat on one side of and Bucky the other.

"So the first game is a word unscramble," Natasha says. She walks over to a table and picks up numerous clipboards, along with a cup of pens. "There's a three-minute time limit and the one who unscrambles the most words wins."

Tony claps his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "This is so my game."

Natasha passes out the clipboards and pens, and you're happy to realize that this is a game you can play with them. Lila is the only child interested in playing, so Cooper keeps Nathaniel and Morgan busy with a gaming console just on the other side of the room.

Once everyone has a clipboard and a pen in hand, Natasha takes a seat with her own set. "Everyone ready?" At their agreement, she says, "FRIDAY, please set a countdown of three minutes."

"Timer is set, agent Romanoff." A timer is suddenly displayed on the wall across from them.

"Start it now."

The moment the first second ticks away, everyone rushes to pay attention to their piece of paper on the clipboard. You hurriedly scan the words, unscrambling the most obvious words- bottle, crib, bib, booties, blanket, nightlight, and car seat. The others give you trouble and as your eyes dart to the timer, your anxiousness kicks in to unscramble a few more.

Tony is grumbling about impossible words as Laura and Pepper laugh at his misfortune. Wanda is humming, happily it seems, whereas Bruce has just plain given up. Stroller and pacifier give you trouble, and your grumbling starts then. But when you get umbilical cord and morning sickness, it causes you to unknowingly dance in your seat.

Hearing a chuckle next to you, you glance at Bucky and see him peering at your clipboard. You gasp. "You dirty little cheater!"

Steve and Wanda both snort, and you angle yourself away so Bucky can't steal any more of your answers.

You think you've got a good lead, but just as the timer hits thirty seconds Laura calls out, "Done!"

"WHAT?!" Tony shouts.

As the unofficial person in charge of the games, Natasha takes Laura's clipboard to double check her answers. Sure enough, they're all correct. Steve, Sam, and even Clint boo Laura as Natasha grabs a small wicker basket that contains several envelopes inside.

Taking an envelope, Laura opens it and her eyes nearly bulge out of her sockets. "Wow. Every baby shower I've been to had gifts consisting of candles or Bath and Body gift baskets or even kitchenware. This- this is a lot."

"What'd you get, babe?" Clint asks.

"A check for twenty five hundred dollars."

"What?!" Sam yelps.

"Is that a normal prize for a game?" You wonder.

"No. No it's not," Sam says. "Come on. Bring on the next game. I need to know what those other prizes are."

You laugh as everyone suddenly becomes a bit more invested in winning one of the games. But as your laugh tapers off, you glance at Pepper and Tony. Pepper merely smiles when she sees your slight concern. "Don't worry about it. You didn't want an extravagant party, so Tony got a few prizes that were just a little bit more expensive than your average baby shower prize. Trust me, these were the least expensive prizes I could talk him down to."

"Well as long as you're sure.."

You shift uneasily in your seat and then Natasha's walking into the center of the room with a roll of toilet paper in her hand. "Come on, Mother-to-Be. We need to measure your bump and then let these idiots figure out how many squares you are. Whoever guesses the exact number, or closest to, wins."

Natasha helps you stand and you can't help but grumble, "None of you assholes better think I'm huge."

Lila giggles and you send an apologetic look to both Laura and Clint.

Hidden behind the kitchen island, Natasha has you stand still so she can wrap the toilet paper around you. You laugh as you hold the beginning of the first square on your stomach and Natasha reaches around you, unrolling the paper. It's an exact eleven squares.

Taking note of how many squares your bump is, you and Natasha rejoin the group.

"Alright. Give us a twirl. I need to see the bump all the way around," Tony says. Then looking at Wanda, he narrows his eyes. "And no cheating!"

Rolling your eyes with a small huff, you give a slow twirl. Natasha hands Steve the roll of toilet paper and he eyes your stomach before unrolling several squares of it. Bucky goes next, followed by Wanda and Lila. When Clint gets a hold of the roll and unfurls it dramatically, you can't help but growl at him. The others laugh and then take their turn, and then everyone is eagerly awaiting to see if they guessed correctly.

"Are you ready?" Natasha muses. Everyone nods. "It was eleven squares."

"Dammit! So close," Sam whines.

Everyone's looking around, but it's a smug Steve that raises his hand. "I guessed eleven."

"Boo!" Apparently, half the room are sore losers.

You laugh and then it's his turn to choose a prize. When he picks an envelope, he opens it up and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "An all paid expense trip to the spa and then a dinner reservation for two at some fancy restaurant."

"You're taking me to that," Sam immediately says.

Everyone laughs and then Pepper mentions taking a food break so you don't rush through the games. There are a lot of sandwich trays, fruit trays, and vegetable trays. And being the considerate pregnant werewolf you are, you let everyone else make themselves a plate before you, Steve, and Bucky make your own.

Eating carefully so as to not spill anything down the front of your outfit, the laughter and chatter around you makes you feel the most cherished you've ever felt. The finger foods itself is not enough to fill you up, but it does sate your hunger for now. However, with Wanda and Bucky still on either side of you even at the table, between the two of them they're constantly adding extra fruit and fruit dip to your plate.

A few more games are played afterward- Tony guesses the closest to the amount of jelly beans in a mason jar and wins a week-long getaway for two to Fiji, Natasha is the fastest with changing a diaper on a fake baby and wins another set of an all paid expense trip to the spa and restaurant for two, Lila wins at baby bingo and a check for twenty five hundred as well (Clint is clearly happy his family is raking in the cash), and Bucky is the fastest to suck all the apple juice out of a baby bottle which earns him a week-long trip for two to the Bahamas.

Everyone is having such a great time that a sudden alarm blaring immediately puts them on edge. But after Tony rapidly swipes through his phone to figure out what's going on, he realizes they're being called to assemble. Gazes dart in your direction, but you smile reassuringly at them.

"Go. The world needs you guys more than I do right now."

"But we didn't even get to see you open the presents," Wanda frowns.

"And that's fine. You already know I'm going to love whatever has been gifted. We'll gush about everything when you get back."

That seems to be all the team needs to hear before jumping into action and you're a bit surprised to see Bucky hang back. He waves Steve off when he notices his friend holding the elevator and you look up at Bucky with a furrowed brow. "You sure you're going to be okay, sweetheart?"

"Positive." You smile at him, stepping close to him and setting your hands at his waist. "And besides, opening these presents will not only distract me but it'll distract the kids as well. Go save the city or wherever you're needed, Sergeant. I'll be waiting in my apartment for when you get back."

Bucky's hands, both metal and flesh, reach up to gently cradle your face. His gaze darts all over your face for any signs of deceit, but finding none he finally grins. "Okay." He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "I'll be back soon." And then in a move that has you freezing and Pepper, Helen, and Laura's eyes widening, Bucky's hands drop to either side of your stomach as he bends at the waist and addresses your bump. "And you be good for your mama. I see the way you're making her flinch." He brushes his nose from side to side against your stomach and then chuckles when there's a kick in retaliation.

Before Bucky can straighten, you quickly paste on a smile but there's nothing you can do for the burning blush on your cheeks. And the damn prick smirks proudly at how flustered he's made you. "Go," you utter. "Go before Steve comes down to drag you to the jet."

Bucky gives you a nod before stepping back and turning around to saunter towards the elevator. You manage to keep it together until the doors close behind him, the elevator whisking him away, before someone says anything.

"Spill. Right now," Pepper says.

You glance at her, shoulders rising and lowering in a shrug. "I have no idea what the hell just happened, but I'm torn between crying at how cute that just was and wanting to desperately jump his bones." Lila giggles and your eyes widen. You point at her in an accusatory manner. "Stop giggling. You're not supposed to know what that means."

The other women snort as Laura urges her daughter to go play with her siblings and Morgan. Reluctantly she goes. Then as soon as she's out of hearing range, the ladies give you your full attention.

You sigh. "Bucky is.. a very attractive man. Too attractive if I must admit. And if I wasn't knocked up by some random guy's baby gravy, then I could definitely see myself turning on the charm and seeing if he's actually interested."

"First of all," Laura says, "never say baby gravy again."

Pepper snorts as Helen's nose wrinkles. "And secondly," Helen then pipes up, "that man adores you, baby and all." You huff in disbelief. "Don't think I didn't see him pacing outside my office at your last appointment. Or see the way he lit up when you gave him one of the sonogram pictures."

Laura smirks. "Clint told me Bucky keeps a copy of a sonogram in his vest."

And that- that's news to you. Yes you're well aware of your attraction to him as well as his attraction for you (being a werewolf really helps out when you can scent someone's emotions), but you wanted him to make the first move in order to be sure you and your baby were what he wanted.

"Whatever you decide to do, just know we all support you," Pepper says. You're still reeling at the fact that he carries your sonogram picture with him that you have nothing to say. "But until that day comes, why don't you start opening your gifts? I'm dying to know what the men thought were acceptable gifts."

Giving a feeble nod, Helen and Laura hurry to get up and start bringing over gift after gift. Then once you make yourself comfortable, Pepper hands you the gift she had gotten herself with squeals and coos following soon after you pull out onesie after onesie. The booties and floral headbands melt everyone's heart as well.

At the beginning of month nine, HYDRA starts to become a thorn in everyone's side. You figure they're looking for you and their precious cargo, but Natasha assured you everyone in the base you were held at had been taken care of and every file wiped from their computers. As far as other HYDRA bases knew, you did not exist. It was just a coincidence they were active again.

As the weeks slowly pass, your due date is any day now. So it's no surprise when you wake up in the middle of the night one evening, uncomfortable as can be, with pain in your back and lower abdomen.

It's four in the morning and you don't want to wake anyone, but Helen said to call her at any time in case something felt off. And this definitely classifies as something off. So after placing a call to your doctor and friend, Helen tells you to keep track of your contractions and head to the medical wing if they get too close together. She's currently in another state, but after a quick word with FRIDAY the A.I is sending for a quinjet to pick her up.

Moving from your bed to the couch in your living room, you work on trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting or laying down doesn't work, so you take to pacing. But you get tired of pacing very quickly and end up pulling out a yoga ball to bounce on.

By six in the morning, the contractions are about twenty minutes apart. The pain has amped up as the time passed that your claws and fangs have ended up elongating, and you've already shredded two of your couch cushions when you were suddenly seized up by a contraction. Eventually it becomes too much for you to endure so you have FRIDAY alert Wanda with a Code Pink. And not even four minutes later, Wanda is barging into your apartment with concern-filled eyes.

"Is this it? Is the baby coming? What's going on?"

You grimace, hands rubbing your stomach as you lightly bounce on your ball. "Uh, I'm in labor. This sucks."

"Well why aren't you in the med wing?" She asks. She comes closer to you, looking you up and down to make sure nothing else is wrong. "And what happened to your couch?" Instead of saying anything, you end up showing her. Another contraction hits and you snarl in pain, claws digging into your thighs and eyes blazing blue. Wanda's eyes widen. "Oh. I see." Then glancing upward, Wanda asks, "FRIDAY, how close are Y/N's contractions and can you please contact Doctor Cho?"

"The contractions are only eleven minutes apart now and Doctor Cho is still twenty-five minutes out. She has, however, advised me to inform Y/N that she should be heading to the med wing now. The nurses have been alerted and are waiting to have Y/N admitted."

A breath of air whooshes from your lungs just as you get yourself under control and you watch as the claw marks on your legs start to close themselves up. "Wanda," you pant, "I'm not going to be able to walk there."

"I got it." Your eyes watch as Wanda walks over to your kitchen, her hands glowing red as the same energy envelops one of your kitchen chairs. Right before your eyes, the wooden chair turns into a wheelchair. She then wheels the chair over to you, putting on the breaks before walking around to help you into the seat. "Now come on." She beams down at you. "Let's go have this baby."

Since the medical building isn't far, you don't bother with your pregnancy bag. The building is equipped with anything and everything you could possibly need and if you wanted your own stuff then you'd just send Wanda to get it. The elevator ride and walk towards the medical building is filled with your heavy breathing and pained grunts, as well as Wanda's encouraging words that are honestly starting to annoy you.

As soon as the nurses lay eyes on you, it's a whirlwind to get you situated as quickly as possibly. Wanda watches from the corner of your room and as soon as you're settled and the baby's heartbeat is resonating around the room, the terror sinks in.

You're about to have a baby. A BABY!? You're about to push out a baby that you're going to have to take care of for the next eighteen years and who will depend on you for the rest of her life. She will most likely be enhanced too and have to be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life as well.

"Hey. You okay?" Wanda asks.

"No." Your voice cracks and the tears immediately well up as you meet your friend's concerned gaze. "I don't know if I can do this."

"What? Of course you can!" Wanda rushes towards you and takes a seat next to you on the bed, wrapping one arm around you and holding your hand with her other free hand. "This is just the pain and the realization that you're about to give birth talking, Y/N. You're going to be fine. And on the days where it does become too much, you have a whole team at your beck and call. You and baby Wanda are going to be fine."

Wetly chuckling, you say, "Nice try. That's not her name."

"Well you can't blame me for trying."

A wave of pain courses through you and you squeeze Wanda's hand. She hisses, you snarl, and when it finally passes you can sense a wave of pain radiating from your friend. Glancing at her, your eyes widen. "Oh no. I'm so sorry!"

Cradling her hand to her chest, she weakly smiles. "It's fine. It's not broken. I just- I never realized how strong of a grip you have."

You quickly take her injured hand within your own, concentrating on siphoning her pain away. You know it works when she tenses and pulls her hand out of your grip. "What was that? You had black veins-"

"It's okay. I was just taking away your pain. See?" You say, gesturing to her hand. You watch as she glances at her hurt hand once more, flexing her fingers and then looking at you in surprise. "Yeah. I kind of forgot I could do that."

"You forgot?" She laughs. Then sobering up, she says, "I bet you wish you could take your own pain away right about now."

"You have no idea."

When you become truly uncomfortable, Wanda has you sit in the middle of the bed and pulls your hair up into a messy bun before having you lean forward. Using as much pressure as possible, she presses her fist into the small of your back in hopes of alleviating some of the pain. Then when Doctor Cho finally makes her arrival, she comes with a cup of ice chips in hand and tells you to crunch on that while you're waiting.

Doctor Cho is just as excited as Wanda and you can't help but glare at them when one particular contraction has you groaning out in pain for over a minute. "Oh fuck HYDRA!" You shout once it's over. "There's so much fucking pain and I didn't even get to have the fun part of sex!"

Wanda's eyes are wide as Doctor Cho tries to hide her smile, moving around the machines to make sure you and baby are doing okay still.

"Um, bad time?" You glance at the doorway to find Steve and Bucky standing shoulder to shoulder. Steve looks rather amused whereas Bucky is looking at you as if you have bad news to deliver.

"Steve, the next time you go after HYDRA, kick them in the balls. Hard."

He snorts. "Sure thing, sweetheart. How long have you been in labor?" He nudges Bucky and the two of them walk in when Doctor Cho doesn't immediately shoo them out.

"Since four this morning."

Bucky and Steve are both about to admonish you, no doubt, when a contraction hits yet again. Your features immediately transform as you snarl and Wanda makes sure to keep her hands tucked close to herself. "They're getting closer," she muses. Then looking at Bucky, she says, "Come over here and hold her hand. She nearly broke mine earlier."

Bucky gulps. "Doll?"

"Give me your fucking hand, James!" Steve snorts as Bucky hightails it towards the bed, slipping you his vibranium hand for you to squeeze. And once the contraction passes, you slump back into bed and sniffle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's, uh, it's fine. I understand."

"Just so you know, I got that on camera." Tony saunters in, Pepper at his side.

But while Tony is far too amused at your pain and yelling at Bucky, Pepper is elated for the life you're about to bring into this world. Wanda relinquishes her spot next to you so Pepper can slip in. "Hey Y/N, how are you holding up?" Her gentle touch as she brushes the sweaty flyaways off your forehead makes you cry once more.

"This sucks."

"I know it does, sweet girl, but trust me. It's going to be all worth it the second you hear your baby's cries."

Another contraction hits and you're grateful that Bucky had never pulled his hand back. You squeeze his vibranium hand and whimper in pain, and Doctor Cho comes forward. "Okay, Y/N, I'm going to have to see how far you're dilated now since the contractions are only two minutes apart."

Doctor Cho helps you prop up your knees and, though the blanket is still covering you, Tony blanches. And that- that makes you weakly laugh. "Alright, everyone, if you're going to stay I'm going to need you to stand near my head and not my feet. Got it? Cool."

Pepper quietly laughs and leans in to press a kiss to your temple. "We're going to go, but good luck! I can't wait to meet her."

"Thank you," you say just as she pulls away. "For everything."

Pepper winks at you and grabs Tony's hand, he willingly letting her take the lead. Wanda reclaims her spot and Bucky doesn't budge an inch. Steve, however, nervously rubs at the back of his neck. "I'll be in the waiting room and alerting everyone." Then meeting your gaze, his expression softens. "You're going to do great. I'll see you after."

You smile at him, but another wave of pain prevents you from saying anything. And once Wanda and Bucky are left alone, Doctor Cho pushes the blanket and your hospital gown up to your knees so she has an unobstructed view of your lower half. You wiggle at the sudden pressure between your legs and then she's looking up at you and smiling. "You're ready to push."

A sob stutters out as your fear comes back tenfold. You hold tighter to Bucky's hand and reach for Wanda's with your other hand, but you don't squeeze her like you are Bucky. "L-Last chance to book it out of here," you say without meeting their gaze. "Because the second I start pushing, you guys are stuck with me."

It's quiet and then, "As long as you want me, you have me. I am not going anywhere, sweetheart."

Your bottom lip trembles and Doctor Cho smiles adoringly at Bucky's words. Wanda chuckles. "Yeah. What he said."

"If you two are going to stay, I'm going to need you to wash up real quick and put on a sterilized cover."

Wanda and Bucky both assure you they'll be right back, and Doctor Cho leads them to a small room connected to yours where they can get ready. You can hear water running a moment later as your friends lather up and then the rustling of the paper coverings they have to put on that covers the front of their bodies. Then when all three return, Doctor Cho hurries around the room to prep what she needs for the delivery while also calling in a couple of nurses that you had okayed to be in the room when the two of you had made your birthing plan.

Bucky and Wanda take their places on either side of your bed, and Bucky immediately slips his hand into yours. Wanda just watches from her spot, anxiousness rolling off of her even though she's smiling widely. The two nurses finally enter the room, taking their place by flanking Doctor Cho when she slides a stool to the end of the bed you're laying on.

Doctor Cho smiles at you and gives you a nod. "Okay. You ready? We're going to push on three."

"Ready or not, she's coming," you say.

"That's the spirit." Doctor Cho then glances down at your lower half. "And push on one, two, three!"

Immediately you push with all your might for the first six seconds, but the excruciating pain flares up and you roar out in pain. You don't need a mirror to know your face has shifted and you barely hear Doctor Cho telling you to take a breath and that that was a really good push. So when you're allowed to take a break, you fall limp against the bed and start crying. "That hurt so fucking bad."

"Hey. That was good," Wanda assures you. "It'll be over soon."

You shake your head, denying her words when you come to the conclusion that you honestly don't know if you can do this. And then, "I think you dented my hand."

You startle at Bucky's words, snorting and then pulling your hand free and swatting him. "Shut up. No I didn't."

"You didn't," he grins. "But I got you to laugh. Now take a deep breath and do it again. Push."

Giving yourself a moment, you do exactly as you're told. You reclaim Bucky's hand and then push again, roaring out seconds later. When you fall back against the bed, tears are rolling down from the corners of your eyes. "I can't. I can't do this," you cry.

"You can and you have to," Wanda says. When you look at her, her own eyes are filled with tears. "You can do this, Y/N. You can. Now push again."

You continue to whimper until Doctor Cho tells you to push again. You do and it feels like the pain is even more excruciating now. Cho smiles. "Oh wow. There's the head." She glances up at you in surprise. "Your baby really wants out."

The nurses behind Doctor Cho immediately go into action, grabbing blankets and preparing for the baby's arrival. "Helen, I don't- I can't-"

"You can." You glance up at Bucky and nearly stop breathing when he leans down so his forehead is against yours. "You can do this, doll. You're almost there. Just a little bit more pain and then the most precious being ever will finally be here."

There's a lump in your throat, but you manage to swallow around it. "Easy for you to say. Your vagina isn't being stretched open way further than it's supposed to be."

He smirks. "Shut up and push."

"Fuck off, Barnes."

There's no malice behind your words, but it doesn't stop Bucky from acting as if offended. Then when you position yourself to push again, Wanda grabs onto one of your knees as Doctor Cho instructs her to and then Bucky does the same. You grunt, you scream, and you cry harder than you've ever cried, and after several more pushes there's a piercing wail that emits from the end of your bed.

All noise ceases except for the piercing cry and your eyes widen when you see Doctor Cho lift your baby still covered in a mess. She's laughing as she lightly wraps the baby in the blanket and then stands to lay her on your chest. "Congratulations."

The tears immediately come back tenfold as your arms come up to hold her against you. "Hi," you cry. "Oh my god. Hi."

The baby continues to wail as you glance between Wanda and Bucky, and you don't think you've ever seen them so stunned before. As your head falls back in exhaustion, Doctor Cho says, "We have to take her now. She needs to be cleaned up and we need to run a few tests before we bring her back."

And though you know she's right, you can't help the growl that bubbles up when you see one of the nurses step forward. You manage to suppress it seconds later, but the nurse is glued to her spot in fear. Bucky moves and you don't make a peep as he gently wraps the baby in the blanket once more and lifts her from your chest. Your eyes are glued to him as the smallest of smiles turn up the corners of his lips and then he's handing the baby to the waiting nurse.

"S-Sorry," you manage to say to the nurse.

And a moment later, she grins. "It's fine. New instincts are wreaking havoc on you, no doubt, but we we'll be back as soon as we can."

You nod at her, heart aching as you watch the nurses walk out of the room with your newborn daughter. Doctor Cho taps on your ankle and says, "Ready for the afterbirth?" Your nose wrinkles and she chuckles. "I know. I need to get you cleaned up and then tell you all about what your body's going to go through for the next month or so."

Sighing, you look up between your friends. "Go. Go find out how much Baby weighs and then tell the others she's here."

Wanda chuckles and her nose wrinkles in a cutesy manner as she gently cradles your face in her hands and leans down to kiss your forehead. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you."

"Mhm. Thank you for being here."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

Wanda takes her leave, no doubt to find the baby, and then you look up at Bucky. The emotion in his blue eyes is enough to make your heart stutter, but instead of repeating Wanda's actions, he grabs your hand and gently squeezes it. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me witness that. I-"

His own voice cracks and you smile knowingly up at him. "I know." You then bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his vibranium hand. "And thank you for being here. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you or Wanda."

He grins. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Chuckling, you gently push him away. "Go. Go find my girl and then tell the others. I'm sure they're dying to know what happened."

Bucky smirks before backing away and then turning on his heel to take his leave. As he makes it to the door, he rips off his hospital covering and trashes it. Then walking down the corridors, mind reeling over everything he's just witnessed, he lets his hearing take him to where he can hear a baby fussing.

He finds Wanda not long after and she glances at him, smiling. "Six pounds, three ounces."

He exhales in awe. "Jesus. She's tiny."

"She is."

Side by side, Bucky and Wanda watch as the nurses give the baby a washcloth bath. The entire time she's screaming her lungs out, but it only makes them smile and laugh and joke about how Y/N is going to have her hands full. They continue to watch as her foot prints are taken for the birth certificate and measured, then rocked back and forth until she calms down.

When she's placed in a bassinet to rest, Bucky clears his throat. "I'm gonna go find Stevie and the others. Give 'em the good news."

Wanda just hums in response and then Bucky's on his way once more. This is the lightest he's felt in a long while and he can't quite explain the pure elation that he felt the moment he watched Doctor Cho put the baby on Y/N's chest.

"Hey there, Tin Man," Sam calls out. "Any news?"

Bucky glances up, masking his surprise that his feet had taken him to the waiting room without really knowing. "Uh, yeah." He slowly grins. "Six pounds, three ounces." Pepper gasps, smiling wide. "She's, uh, she's in the observation room right now. Wanda's there if you wanna see her before they take her back to Y/N."

Pepper is the only one to get up while Steve, Sam, and Tony hang back. A moment later, all three watch as Bucky numbly takes a seat.

"I- that was.."

"Intense?"

"Beautiful?"

"Grotesque?" Tony muses.

Bucky briefly glares at Tony before looking at Steve. "I didn't know seeing the birth of a baby would feel like that."

"It usually doesn't," Sam says. "I mean childbirth is a beautiful thing, but it's not usually so intense unless there's feelings for the lady giving birth. Come into any realizations lately?"

Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. Slowly closing his mouth, he frowns and then takes a moment to think about everything since Y/N was brought back to the compound. He thinks about every moment he had with her one on one, and one particular moment stands out to him. He'd been sitting in the communal kitchen when he heard someone approaching, their fucking fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck being a dead giveaway as to who it was. Y/N had rounded the corner, hands on her lower back and complaining about the full moon taking a toll on her body this time around.

Bucky suddenly sits up, eyes widening. "And there it is," Steve chuckles.

Sam starts to swear. "That doesn't count! Feelings have to be returned. We don't know how Y/N feels."

"Please." Tony scoffs. "If you can't tell that she's in love with Robocop, then the muffled sex noises from when they're boinking like bunnies after she heals will be a dead giveaway." Sam groans as Steve snorts and Bucky stands up without a word. "Atta boy, Buckaroo. Go get your werewolf."

Back in the room, you're cradling your baby and staring down at her in complete awe as you run your forefinger down the bridge of her nose. Wanda and Pepper sit in chairs next to the bed, and Helen stands at the end of your bed. "So everything checks out perfectly," she says. "Ten fingers, ten toes. Perfectly healthy."

"But," you muse, eyes never leaving your daughter's face. When she doesn't say anything, you glance up and smile sheepishly. "You're nervous about something. I can smell it."

She grins. "Right. I forgot you could do that." You continue to stare at her until she shifts nervously from foot to foot. "Well, um, when we took a sample of her DNA it was automatically entered into the system."

"Okay."

"I wasn't looking for anything. I promise," she pauses to gulp, "but it pinged in our system. We got a hit for a DNA match to someone who was already in the system."

"W-What?" Helen nods, uncomfortable. You glance between Wanda and Pepper, and both are equally shocked as you are. Then meeting Helen's gaze again, you ask, "Who?"

"James Buchanan Barnes."

The air seems to whoosh out of you at that and you don't know how to feel. On one hand, you're absolutely delighted. But on the other hand, he had no say in this and you don't want him to feel obligated when he no doubt finds out. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I ran it twice more and Bucky's the father."

"I'm what?"

Dread pools in your stomach as your gaze darts to the opened door. Bucky stands there frozen. "Shit," you quietly curse.

No one dares to say anything, so Bucky stumbles further into the room. "Did you just so I was the father?"

You gulp. "I-It would make sense. Why HYDRA was so ecstatic," you explain, tears stinging your eyes. When he glances at you, you say. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," he says. "I'm not- I'm not mad." And in a move that surprises you after he's just found out that he's a father now, he sits on the bed just right in front of you. He smiles at you before his gaze darts down to your daughter and he chuckles softly while reaching up to gently caress her beanie clad head. Lowering his voice, he says, "I'm.. happy that it's me. That she's mine. Ours." He then looks up at you, his smile vanishing at the sight of your tears. "I mean, I won't push my way into your lives if you're not-"

"Shut up," you sniffle. "She's ours. Of course I want you there, but only if you want to be there."

Bucky's radiant smile in response makes you swoon, and Pepper and Wanda finally chuckle.

"I hate to break up this moment," Helen says, "but I need a name for the birth certificate. And signatures."

Guiltily looking at Bucky, you say, "I already chose a name. If I had known-"

"It's fine, sweetheart. I'm sure you chose a good name."

You nod and then glance over at Wanda. "I, uh, I wanted to honor the pseudo big brother she'll never get to meet." Wanda's smile falters, eyes glistening. "Her name is Petra. Petra Amaris." Pepper immediately coos and Wanda loses her composure. Your eyes widen and you glance at Bucky, gesturing for him to take your daughter. Panic flits across his features, but then he steels himself and reaches to carefully take her from your arms. Then once you're free, you maneuver over to the side of the bed closest to Wanda and reach for her hand. "Hey. Hey, shh. If you don't like it, I can-"

"No," she's quick to cut you off. "I love it. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"It's a beautiful name," Pepper assures you.

"Good."

Bucky looks so enthralled with Petra in his arms that you look for Helen and gesture for her to hand over the birth certificate. Taking it and a pen, you get to work filling in your name and signing it at the bottom. Then looking at the father portion of the certificate, you figure you'll let Bucky fill it in if he wishes. But as for Petra's last name, you fill it in without even thinking about it.

"Here. Your turn," you say. "Only if you want to though. No pressure."

Bucky glances at the birth certificate, reading it over. He grins before glancing at Petra once more and then takes the pen from you, gesturing for you to place the clipboard down on the bed so he can write. It takes only a few seconds and then you're handing it over back to Helen with a beaming smile.

It doesn't seem like Bucky is going to relinquish Petra anytime soon, so you take the moment to lean back in the bed and rest for a bit. However, you only get to relax for a few minutes before there's a knock on the door.

"Aw man, you're lookin' awfully cozy with that kid in your arms, Barnes," Sam says.

Steve elbows his friend as Tony makes a beeline for Pepper. "Huh. She's actually pretty cute," Tony says. "I thought I was going to have to come in here and lie about how cute she was."

"Tony!"

You grin at him, but Steve steals your attention away as he hovers over Bucky and reaches in to touch your daughter's tiny hand. "What's her name?"

You and Bucky meet each other's gaze, silently communicating about whether or not you should tell them. You give him a nod and he slowly smirks. He moves so both his feet are planted on the floor, and Sam and Tony have a better view of the baby cradle in his arms. "Her name is Petra."

"Aw damn. Named after the Maximoff speedster," Sam says, shaking his head. "Should have seen that coming."

Wanda giggles as you snort, but then you have to bite your lip to keep from bursting into laughter when Bucky tells them her full name. "Petra Amaris Barnes."

The men seem to all freeze, but then Pepper and Wanda coo about how adorable it is that you gave her Bucky's last name.

"Wait, what?" Poor Steve. He looks so confused. "Barnes? She has your-"

"I'm the random HYDRA operative who apparently supplied the other half of Petra's DNA."

"Holy shit."

"You got that right, birdie," Tony mutters.

You giggle and then shrug when Steve meets your gaze. "It was a surprise to us all, but apparently Bucky's more than okay with it."

The room goes quiet as the situation sinks in and then Tony starts to giggle. All eyes turn on him when says, "We sent in Barnes to seal the deal with Y/N and he really sealed the deal, huh? Got him a baby momma and everything."

You blink in surprise and then stare at Bucky, grinning softly when he seems to pink in embarrassment and refuses to look at you. You glance at Wanda and gesture towards the door, and she seems to get the hint. "Right, well," she says, standing up. "Why don't we give these two a bit of privacy while we go make some phone calls to Clint, Laura, and Nat. I'm sure they'd like to know Petra is healthy and that Y/N is doing fine."

Steve and Sam get the hint, but Pepper has to push Tony out of the room. Then left alone with Bucky, you smile at him. "Care to explain what Tony meant about you coming in here to get the girl?"

You watch as he gulps and you can see him trying to piece together what he's going to say. "I might have come to the conclusion that I liked you more than a friend and was coming to see how you felt about that."

Your breath hitches. He.. likes you? That was something you kind of already knew, but were waiting for him to say something. And leave it to him to confess after giving birth and your emotions were kind of haywire at the moment.

Unable to speak at the moment, you carefully lean forward until you're on your knees and Bucky glances up in surprise. And without warning, you press your lips to his in one of the most softest of kisses since he is still holding Petra.

It takes a minute for his brain to reboot and when he does, you smile against his mouth as he returns the kiss. "Is that," he mumbles, "is that your way of saying you like me too?"

His eyes sparkle and you huff a quiet laugh, biting the bottom corner of your lip as you nod. "I do. Have for a while, but didn't want to scare you off since I was pregnant."

"You wouldn't have," he assures you. "I adored the two of you long before I found out she was mine. I'm all in if you'll have me," he says.

You nod. "I want you."

"Good. 'Cause you're not getting rid of me. Ever."

"That's fine by me."

#marvel gen fic x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #sam wilson #pepper potts #tony stark #natasha romanoff #helen cho #avengers #marvel

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

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Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language and mild medical drama Warnings: Brief depictions of medical treatments for blood loss and its symptoms Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Bela has always wondered who her soulmate was, the person she was connected to by red string. When she finally meets them, she's devastated to find them hanging in her basement, being drained of blood. But her soulmate won't die- not if she can do something about it. Notes: Soulmate AU in which people have a red thread tied to their left ring finger (or elsewhere if missing the finger/hand), which connects to their soulmate. By default the string is taut/tight, only getting loose when the pair is relatively close to each other.

1: Stem The Flow

How long had she waited for this day? How long had Bela monitored the red string tied to her hand, waiting for it to be anything other than taut? A decade, at the least, if not two or more. For so long she had dreamt of her soulmate, albeit discreetly, wondering about every facet of their being. Entire days had been spent imagining them, and how they would come into her life. Sometimes, on those days, she would gently tug her end of the thread. Every single time, without fail, her soulmate had returned the motion. It warmed her heart more than she’d ever admit, to know that her excitement was not one-sided.

At times, it did worry her, the feelings in her chest reminding her of her youngest sister. Daniela was obsessed with love, dangerously so, to the point of being downright delusional. More than once her “affections” had gotten their family into some sort of trouble. No matter how mature Bela considered herself to be, there was a part of her that worried about repeating her sister’s mistakes. What if her excitement about her partner led her to overlook something crucial? What if the person in question posed a threat to her family? How easy would it be, then, for her to cut them off?...

Today, perhaps, she would find out.

The sun had set over the Romanian landscape, and with the moon rose the Dimitrescu household. First out of bed, as always, Bela wasted no time in getting dressed. Hazy visions of her fading dreams clouded her mind, tugging on her thoughts as always. Most days they felt more like memories than anything else. Today, they are quieter than usual, easily fading into the background. When the last traces of her grogginess disperse, Bela finds herself glancing at her left hand. It’s a daily habit, although discreet, that always leaves her with bittersweet feelings.

“Wait…” Bela whispered, as her eyes took in the unexpected sight: The red string of fate, tied to her left ring finger, loose as can be. It trails to the ground, coiled a single time, before heading underneath her door. “Am I dreaming?” She does not bother to pinch herself to check. Instead she practically jumps into her shoes, dashing out of her room with unfamiliar glee. Maidens in the hallways have to leap aside to avoid her, but she does not care, for once ignoring the standards her mother had instilled in her. If her sisters could be chaotic, we couldn’t she?

So she follows the thread, eagerly, without even wondering why it was so loose. No, she didn’t think about the implications of the situation. In her mind, it did not matter why her soulmate was finally within her reach, it simply mattered that they were. Soon enough they would be in her arms, safe, with nothing else to bother them. And then she’d be happy, finally having someone she was on equal terms with. Finally having someone to confide in, to cherish, to whisper sweet nothings to in the dead of the night.

She doesn’t hesitate until she finds the string wrapped around the door to the basement. At last the signs click together in her mind, like a conspiracy board bound with crimson ties. Instantly panic replaces whatever excitement she had been feeling. Then she’s abandoning all sense of caution, throwing open the door and rushing forward, dispersing into a swarm to cover more ground. Even if she could no longer see the thread in this form, she was certain that she’d know exactly who her soulmate was when she saw them.

And, well, she does. Something calls her to the far corner of the main room, where a body was suspended from the ceiling by its hands. An all-too-familiar needle was sticking out of the person’s arm, leading down to a large glass container, which was slowly filling with blood. The scent made Bela’s nostrils flare, and her eyes go wide, but she did her best to fight against her instincts. Quickly she gets to her knees, examining the jar to see how full it was. Most of the measurement lines were faded, having been worn out over time, making it harder to estimate the volume. In the end, Bela guessed that the container could fit just over six liters inside. Which meant that the person had lost close to… two and a half. That was bad- behind bad, really. Horrible, actually. Immediately life threatening to the point of having been life threatening before Bela had even woken up.

“Don’t die on me, please,” she half cried half shouted, jumping into action as best as she knew how. Not even bothering to turn the nozzle on the device, she pulls the needle out of her soulmate’s arm, cursing when more blood rushes out of the hole. Then she’s applying pressure, hard as she can, beyond glad that they weren’t awake for this. One hand goes to tear a piece of fabric off of their shirt. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind, all things considered. Next, Bela ties the cloth around the collection point, making less of a tourniquet and more of a generic bandage. “Shit, you need a transfusion, don’t you?... Fuck, fuck, what’s your blood type?”

Knowing that she wouldn’t be getting a verbal answer any time soon, Bela settled for dipping a finger into the jar, bringing it to her lips, and licking. The difference in taste among blood types was subtle, but she was nothing if not a professional at this point. Still, the type is not immediately clear to her, and she knows that she might have to go around licking more blood from other prisoners. Unless… could someone receive a transfusion of their own blood? Such a thing had never happened at the castle before, but there was a first time for everything.

“Hold on, I’ll figure this out, somehow, I promise,” Bela said, gently taking her patient’s hand in her own. Taking your hand.

When you wake, you find yourself among the softest sheets you have ever felt, as if laying on clouds themselves. But your vision is blurred, and your head is besieged by waves of pain. A whimper makes its way past your lips. For a moment all you can do is tense up, unsure of any detail of your situation, unable to discern anything around you. Then you feel a hand on your own, squeezing gently. Something about it sends a rush of comfort throughout your entire body. Still, you are more confused than anything, and you find yourself trying to sit up out of instinct.

Without warning the hand lets you go, only for the owner to shift their weight, climbing on top of you in an instant. They’re holding you down, saying words that don’t quite reach your ears. For how light they are, they manage to put an impressive amount of pressure on you, easily rendering you immobile. Unfortunately, this position does little to ease your anxiety. The last thing you could remember was a very, very tall lady sticking a needle in your arm with a cruel laugh. Based on how you felt, there was still a needle in your arm. But you had been standing, or hanging, before, and now you were on your back.

“Whathe… wha the ‘ell… can’t 'hink,” you muttered, stumbling over your own tongue. Whoever sits on top of you tries to comfort you, running a hand through your hair. “Who are you?” You asked, even though you couldn’t understand a word this person said. Their voice might as well have been in another language, with the way your addled brain processed it. Had you lost too much blood? Or maybe you had a concussion? “I just. I just wanted to meet them. Please, I jus… I just wanna see my soulmate.”

Again, you cannot understand what the person says in response, but they finally seem to understand this. One of their hands reaches out and grabs your left one, slowly tapping your fingers, one by one. When they reach your ring finger, they pause, gently holding it. For a few moments you’re left even more confused. Then, with a surge of warmth in your chest, the dots are connected. Whoever is with you quietly grabs the thread attached to your finger, before tugging gently. In order for them to do that… well, there was only one explanation. They were your soulmate. They were the one you had gone to this accursed castle to meet. Somehow they had saved you, and everything was finally looking up.

Mind clearing slowly, you’re finally able to understand something they- or she, as far as you can tell- say.

“Rest now, my beloved. You are safe in my care, this I promise.”

#bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #brought to you by this enby and their criminal hands #this is shorter than most of my chapters but its also a bonus #so take what you can get my dudes #pls enjoy

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #bucky x sarah #Sarah Wilson

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imkylotrash · 4 years ago

Text

What Goes Around

Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader

Request: Could I please request an imagine/fic with Hardin Scott x Reader and basically Hardin of course has his bad boy reputation but this intrigues the reader. She is his complete opposite and finds his rudeness quite funny. Hardin is a little too mean to her one time and makes her cry. It doesn’t occur to Hardin that she likes him and by that point he feels like he has lost his chance to get to know her because of his.. ‘wicked’ charm? You can choose the ending. Anonymous

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

He’s watching you give your coffee order and it makes you smile. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into each other. At first, you’d just steal glances then go your separate ways but then it turned into “hello”. He made the first move and asked if you should have your coffee together one day. Ever since than you’d made polite conversation when you ran into each other and you had to admit that something intrigued you about the tattooed boy who refused to care about anyone other than himself. You couldn’t exactly relate to his perspective on life but you wanted to know more, to understand the boy who considered the world a cruel place rather than an opportunity to happy days.

“This seat taken?” you ask standing with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. The “Red Queen” series have become something of an obsession for you after finishing the first book. You never thought you’d stray from the classics but lately, YA books had been catching your eye.

“I see you’re still on the third book,” he smiles and in the same moment letting you know how he feels about YA books. You don’t take it too hard considering he’s not even willing to admit his love for books for anyone other than you.

“I’m taking my time and enjoying the words.” You have a tendency to get too invested and rush through a book to get to the ending meaning you miss a lot of the little Easter eggs along the way. You’re trying to change that.

“Hey, no judgement from me.” He’s lying but it’s a cute lie so you’ll allow it. Once you’ve finished your coffee, you stand up grabbing your things. You have exactly ten minutes before your class start but you like to get there early in case you need to do some last-minute preparations. Hardin remains seated and you remain neutral in regards to his lack of motivation when it comes to college.

I’ll be going classes now. Want to come?” Okay, maybe not that neutral. He shakes his head smiling and you know what that means. It takes three days before you run into him again. This time at the library where you reach for the same book which sounds completely absurd and something that would only happen in one of your books. It’s a cute moment though.

“I guess great minds think alike,” you say and he scoffs.

“Please. You wish you were as clever as me.” He offers you the book about to sit down when he spots some of his friends outside. You know he’s been a little vague about who you are considering just how different you are to them and frankly, you don’t mind. Hardin is an interesting character because there’s more to him than just the casual alcoholic teen while the people he surrounds himself with at those frat parties really don’t have much else going on for them. You went one time and you’d never been more bored in your life.

“I should go,” he says Within minutes he’s out the door walking in the direction away from his “friends”. After that you don’t spot him for a while or maybe he’s avoiding you to avoid the questions his friends will inevitable have. Either way, you find yourself missing his sarcastic comments. You hadn’t realised just how much of an impression he’d made on you until he wasn’t around. But he comes back to you eventually.

“Hey,” he says when he spots you at the coffee house.

“I thought you’d moved city,” you tease pushing out the chair across from you with your foot. He sits down sliding a book across the table.

“As an apology,” he grins. You turn the book over to see the cover and you can’t help but smile.

“You remembered.” One of the first conversations between you and Hardin had been about ecocriticism and a book called “The Road” that you’d borrowed from the library more times than you could count. You’d discussed the topic in class where your professor had recommended this book and now Hardin had gotten it for you.

“You wouldn’t shut up about the book for at least five hours. How could I not?” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal but it still means a lot to you. Now you could read the book whenever you felt like it. And he’d gotten the original cover rather than the movie cover. It would’ve been the perfect gift if his friends hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. You see the change in him the second they enter the coffee house.

“Hardin, who’s this?” Jace asks with hungry eyes making you feel incredibly uncomfortable.

“Just a friend,” Hardin offers not wanting to give any information to these people.

“Sure, friend. Do you feel the same way, honey?” Jace asks making the rest of the guys snicker. Before you have a chance to answer, Hardin opens his mouth and ruins everything.

“Yes, friend. I mean look at her. Not exactly my type, is it? I mean, could it get anymore vanilla?” This earns him a high five from one of the guys but it cracks your heart. You’ve never thought much about your close or the way you looked because you thought the inside counted a hell of a lot more than the outside. But hearing that the idea of being with you seemed so ludicrous hurt more than you liked to admit.

“I should get going.” You don’t look at Hardin when you leave and you don’t bring the book with you. If this is how he thinks of you then you don’t want anything from him. And it’s not even the fact that he considers you a friend. If that’s all it was, you’d be fine. It’s how easy it was for him to degrade you that really hurt. You tell yourself you won’t cry but it’s a lost battle as you head home. Unfortunately, you don’t reach home before he catches up to you.

“Leave me alone, Hardin,” you say picking up the pace. You’re determined to reach your apartment without stopping but of course, you can’t help yourself when it’s Hardin.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Of course, I’m mad at you!” you yell not caring who hears you at this point.

“You of all people should realise what it’s like to be judged on the way you look. I like the way I look and I absolutely refuse to let you make me feel bad about it!” You don’t care if he said it because of his friends or not, it’s the fact that it came to him so easily. That means he’s thought it before regardless of the situation at the coffee house.

“It was a joke!” he yells back opting for defensive rather than just apologise. You’re not doing this. You turn around and this time he doesn’t follow you. It’s weeks before you dare return to the coffee house. You don’t want to meet him again. Instead you dive head first into the universe of Jane Austen thinking he could’ve been your Mr. Darcy with his sour attitude and soft spot for you but it didn’t turn out that way. But your need for good coffee eventually win over your fear of seeing him again. The plan is in, order, pay and leave. It’s just not that simple once you’re inside.

“You forgot this.” He places “The Road” in front of you as you’re waiting for your coffee. You can’t believe he’s held onto to it since that day. You figured he would’ve just chucked it in the bin.

“I’m really sorry for what I said. It was rude and thoughtless. You deserve better.” It’s a good apology but you can’t help but think what the insult will be the next time his friends catch you together.

“You’re right. I deserve better.” You get your coffee and head outside.

“Throw me a bone here. I said I was sorry.” Of course, Hardin follows you outside refusing to let this go.

“Hardin, you’re only sorry because I called you out on it. You don’t actually care that it hurt me.” He’s not the first guy who thought he could walk all over you and he won’t be the last but you refuse to accept that treatment. You deserve a lot better than that.

“I’m sorry because it hurt you. I didn’t think you’d read so much into it,” he defends himself making it clear to you that it’s a pointless discussion. He’s not going to understand why what he said was hurtful despite his own appearance and the comments he’s received.

“How could I not? I’m sitting there thinking we might have a shot and then you pull the rug out from under me. I’m not playing these games with you.”

“What?” You don’t bother repeating yourself instead using this moment of shock to hurry away. You manage to avoid him for another week before he corners you on campus.

“You can’t just throw something like that out in the world and then leave. It’s been going round and round in my head.” He has a hand on each side of you leaning against the wall. It’s effective for keeping you in place and distracting you from why you’re actually upset with him.

“I never thought you’d like me like that. Shit, I would’ve done things very differently if I ever thought I had a chance.” This time you’re the one in shock. You didn’t think he’d put so much thought into what you said last time.

“What would you have done differently?” Despite vowing to yourself that you’re done with Hardin, you find yourself curious once again. This bad boy persona with a loving man hidden inside seems like an impossible paradox.

“I would’ve kept you well clear of those idiots from the frat house. Bought you flowers maybe. Taken you to dinner. Bought you a hell of lot more books.” You don’t want to forgive him but it’s hard to think when he’s this close to you.

“I can start now if you’d like.” He places a hand on your cheek and his touch gives you chills. You inhale sharply telling yourself not to give into him but your body has already thrown in the white towel. He leans down stopping inches from your lips.

“I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.” Instead of answering, you lean up closing the gap between you. It’s the first kiss but definitely not the last.

#hardin scott x reader #hardin scott imagine #hardin scott blurb #hardin scott after #hardin scott gif #hardin scott #after gif #after imagine #after blurb #After movie #after we collided #after we collided blurb #after we collided imagine #awc imagine #awc gif #awc blurb #awc

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saurexhas · 3 years ago

Text

Love is Blind - Part 4

Time for couple drama! Nightmare doesn’t want anything to hurt his precious little moon, but how does said moon feel about the special treatment?

PS: Make sure you go to the end to find a special surprise that I’ll be doing for this series!

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Adjusting to blindness is never something you thought that you’d have to do, but it was the unfortunate reality you found yourself in. There certainly wasn’t a manual to it either, but you were managing thanks to everyone’s help. There were several days first spent on bedrest while you recovered from the initial incident, and it gave you a chance to come to terms with your fate and what your actions had brought. You still didn’t regret them though, because your sight was truly a small price to pay for Nightmare’s life.

That didn’t mean that the adjustment period was easy, and you probably would’ve succumbed to despair more than once if Nightmare hadn’t been by your bedside almost the entire time. Your bedroom was quickly turned into his temporary office, allowing him to continue his work and further his plans while offering you the reassuring touch of a tentacle that always lingered on your arm as proof of his presence.

When your partner was finally comfortable with the idea of you leaving your bed, it was… well, difficult would be putting it mildly. You never once realized just how much you relied on sight for almost everything. It took a day and a bit of you simply wandering around your room to not bump into everything, and even longer to actually be able to navigate by touch. Thankfully, nobody in the castle really cared about your appearance, so you weren’t judged by what clothes you were able to find and put on by yourself.

Your room was about the only place where you could safely be allowed to wander on your own at first. The castle was a confusing labyrinth of pathways and corridors that were already difficult to navigate. Attempts to explore the castle in the past had led to you almost getting lost in some abandoned part of the castle, so there was no way you were even going to try such now. But even the areas that were once familiar to you were now alien as you relied on sound and touch to guide you instead of the sense you so heavily relied on.

For the first while, Nightmare personally escorted you on any walks outside of your room. This was mostly to and from meals, a time where you could practically feel everyone’s eyes on the two of you. Your seat had also been moved towards the head of the table, just to the right of Nightmare. The dark god claimed that it was so that he could assist you should you need help with your meals. Killer was quick to point out how any of them could help you though, teasing that the real reason was simply to stick next to you like “an overprotective boyfriend”. According to Cross, the look on Nightmare’s face had been one of pure murder… even if everyone at the table knew that the idiot was right.

One thing that Killer also nailed was how protective your boyfriend suddenly was. Gone were the days of you having free reign over the castle. Instead, in the instances where he couldn’t personally escort you, one of the others was chosen to be your guide instead. Even as you grew more comfortable heading to the areas you often frequented, the rule didn’t let up. He’d also put a stop to any training or sparring plans you might’ve had, insisting that it was too dangerous to continue when you couldn’t see an attack coming.

While you understood that he did it out of love, that didn’t change how frustrating it was. You already couldn’t read, play cards, or even really cook, the last of the three likely being on the dark god’s ban list had there not been enough obvious difficulty to deter you. Sparring with the guys, while rough, was one of the only hobbies you had left, and you trusted that none of them would seriously hurt you. But Nightmare refused to listen to any arguments you put forward, and none of the others would entertain the idea for fear of their lord’s wrath.

So on top of learning to navigate a world of utter darkness, adapting daily chores to your new limitations, and being treated like you were fragile, you were utterly bored. And as days turned to weeks, your frustrations grew. You were used to everyone simply treating you as one of the crew, albeit one that Nightmare favoured. When you first arrived here, you had to fight for your right to remain and not be turned into dinner. The others had respected you for the most part, and if you wanted to engage in any of their usual antics, they didn’t hesitate to include you. Now though, everyone seemed intent on treating you as if you were some doll, one to be sat on a shelf and never touched. Everyone was suddenly afraid of hurting you, and you were no longer one of the crew. You were something else, above the others now that your relationship with the god of negativity had gotten out. Pyre had even stated that if Nightmare was their king, then that made you their ‘queen’ in a sense. Suddenly, you were set to be a ruler over the dark god’s future empire, and everyone’s views of you shifted because of it.

One choice, one that seemed so infallible before, had turned your whole life upside down. You expected to be injured in place of Nightmare, but not blinded. And while trying to deal with such a severe change of lifestyle, you were now being placed on a pedestal and nobody would treat you the same. Part of you wanted to take your frustrations out on the nearby wall, but that would likely only bring someone running to tend to your hand as if it were broken. No, you needed to go to the source of the problem.

While navigating the halls by yourself was more difficult than you could’ve ever guessed, it was made easier by your forethought to create a mental map through touch whenever you were being escorted about. The subtle change in the sound of your footfall let you know when you’d left the solid foundation of the hall your bedroom was on in favour of the landing for the grand staircase. Following the railing with your hand, you found where the hallway changed directions. To go downstairs would take you to the common room and the kitchens, while upstairs led to the library and Nightmare’s office. With your goal upstairs, you carefully shuffled along the steps, shoving your foot forward until it came in contact with the next. When your feet slid freely along the floor and the railing straightened out, you knew that you’d made it to the third floor where you’d find your partner.

After a bit of difficulty gathering your bearings and navigating the third floor of the castle, you came to Nightmare’s office. The door was open only a crack, enough to give others the hint to leave him be while allowing him to hear if any chaos should erupt from the lower levels. Ever so slowly, you pushed the door open, only to cringe as a painfully loud squeak of the hinges alerted your boyfriend to your presence. “MC? What are you doing up here? Whoever brought you here should know that I didn’t wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh, nobody brought me here, I came up here myself. Wasn’t that hard,” you shrugged, lying a bit at the ease of which you got here but determined to make the dark god see that you weren’t helpless. “We need to talk.”

A sigh emanated from Nightmare’s direction, and you could imagine how he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he often did when annoyed or frustrated with something. “First off, I thought I made it clear that you are to have someone escort you around the castle to minimize accidents. And secondly, can whatever conversation you want wait? I have plenty of-”

“No actually, it can’t,” you cut him off, mustering your confidence as you stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind you. “I need to talk to you now, not later.”

Being unable to read his body language was frustrating, leaving everything to your imagination with no way to know if you were interpreting things correctly. You knew that he didn’t like taking orders from anyone, not even you, leaving you to wonder if the silence was due to your demanding tone. Perhaps you should’ve worded things better, but before you could worry too much, Nightmare responded to your demanding request. “Very well, for you little moon, I will make time. Please, take a seat and share what’s on your mind.”

It took every ounce of focus you had to find one of the plush chairs on the other side of his desk, sinking down into it once you found it and being thankful that you didn’t have to fumble around too much. It wouldn’t do your argument for more independence any good if your actions showed a need for more support. “Alright…” You’d thought long and hard about how to get your point across to someone as stubborn as your partner, but now that you were here, it was almost a struggle to get your thoughts out cohesively. “I… I’m tired of everyone treating me differently ever since the incident, including you.”

“My dear, I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Yes you have!” Forcing a breath through your nose, your efforts to calm your temper are marginally successful as your unintentional fists relax and grip the arms of the chair. “Everyone is treating me like I’m suddenly delicate, like I’m unable to take a punch or take care of myself. True, it’s been hard to adjust to being blind, but I’ll never get better at accepting things if you all keep coddling me!”

“No one is coddling you!” Nightmare growled in return, his voice growing more agitated as he tried to argue against you. “The others are simply doing their part to ensure that you can rest and heal in comfort!”

A growl built up in your throat as well as your partner continued to deny your claims, your fingers digging into the chair to keep them in place. “That comment brings up another thing. Ever since our relationship got out, everyone’s been treating me as if they’re serving me, like I’m something special that needs to be protected.”

“That’s because you are, little moon. You are my chosen partner, and you knew from the beginning that the title would carry some weight. I am a god my dear, and the ruler of any mortal within this castle. But you’re no longer some random mortal. Now you stand beside me, equal to me in power and authority. They have merely been instructed to show you the same respect and care that they show me.”

To hear it spelled out like that, like it should’ve been obvious to you from the beginning, left a lump in your throat. Was this always what would happen to you? Were you doomed to be lonely up at the top with nobody but the god of negativity himself to be your supposed equal? “I… I-I don’t want that…” Your words came out mumbled, eyes burning as your damaged tear ducts tried and failed to produce any tears. When prompted to speak up, you were practically screaming. “I don’t want that! I don’t want to be so… so alone! You might be fine with being above them, but for the longest time, they treated me as a friend! Now, it’s as if our friendships meant nothing, whenever I reach out all I get is coldness. I want to be able to joke and play around with Killer, I want Butcher to call me names and tease me! I want Pyre to rattle on about how great he is, or to spend time reading with Dust! I want to be able to go up to Cross, hug the stupid fluffy marshmallow, and not have him feel like a freaking statue!”

Your yelling left you short of breath, your chest heaving as you calmed down from your emotional tirade. For a while, your heavy breathing was the only sound echoing in the room, shoulders eventually shuddering as tearless sobs broke from your throat. Your own arms wrapped around yourself, as if trying to keep yourself from truly falling apart. What you weren’t quite expecting though was for a pair of cool, slimy arms to join them as Nightmare hugged you as well, the god having moved around the desk while you were distracted with your own emotional turmoil.

“I’m sorry little moon,” he started, one hand gently petting your hair while a tentacle took to stroking up and down your back in a soothing manner. “I grew so used to my underlings being just that, and I never considered what your views on the matter would be. Let me make this clear though, they treat you special because you are special. No other entity in the entirety of the multiverse has made me feel an emotion as positive as love since my childhood five hundred years ago. While many of the worlds out there fear me, and even those that serve me do well to avoid angering me, you had no such hesitation my dear. As we grew closer, you grew bolder. You would speak your mind freely, even if to criticize my actions or leadership. While it was downright infuriating at first, I grew to respect your courage and tenacity, but also the fact that you accepted me for who I am and not what I once was several lifetimes ago.”

As he spoke in such a calm and soothing voice, you felt your breathing settle as you snuggled into his chest. After he paused for a bit, Nightmare’s tentacles quickly scooped you up into the air, allowing him to settle in your chair and place you on his lap. The comforting gestures continued, serving to keep you calm without the use of his abilities. “You are special MC, never forget that. But also remember that you are my partner, and I will see you treated with the same respect as I receive, nothing less.”

You couldn’t help but tense at his words, about to go off again about how that flew in the face of your wishes. But before you could reiterate the entirety of your emotional rant from before, he shushed you with a gentle finger against your lips, and you could practically hear him smiling through his voice. “Your voice is as powerful in this castle as my own, and if things are not to your liking, then let your voice be heard. They are so used to hearing my voice that those idiots assume your voice will speak the same requests… even I made that poor assumption, and for that I am sorry. If you wish for them to treat you as they always have, then you need only tell them and I can promise you that you will receive what you ask for.”

“You… you mean it?” It seemed too good to be true, but Nightmare was often true to his word with you and the other residents of the castle. Still, it felt like it was too easy to simply ask for them to treat you as if you weren’t any different.

“Little moon, I swear it upon my name that you will be treated as you wish to be in this castle.” The dark god nuzzled you a bit as he made his promise, pulling a soft giggle from you despite the dry feeling in the back of your throat. It wasn’t often that you shouted so much, and you were definitely glad that you closed the door on your way in.

Deciding to push your luck a bit, another request found its way onto your tongue. “Then… if I asked you to stop forcing me to have an escort everywhere, would you respect my wishes?”

“MC, you know that I am just doing that to protect you-”

“Night, we’re in your domain, aren’t we? You know everyone who enters and leaves, making this castle literally the safest place for me. I’m getting better at navigating without my eyes, and I really think that I’d be fine!” When he still didn’t sound convinced, muttering about potential accidents that could happen, you merely threw more options at him. “Look, I’m far from the first blind human. If you’re that worried about me bumping into something or falling down the stairs, then get me a… blind person stick? Cane? Or a seeing-eye dog! One that Butcher would definitely not eat!”

“Is… this your way of asking for a dog?”

“Not my intention, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did actually get me one that can help me.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek with your hand, thumb rubbing just under his good eye. “I’ll never have the same freedom as I did Night, but I know that I can learn to live with the consequences of my actions. And don’t you dare blame yourself for what I decided was a good idea in the spur of the moment.” Even now knowing the consequences of your choice, you’d still make the same call a hundred times over again, enduring the pain each time, if it meant that you didn’t have to see the one you loved suffer.

The god of negativity must have felt your conviction, because he didn’t try to talk you out of it or turn the blame around to be on himself. Instead, he merely sighed as one hand came to hold the one on his face, pulling it away to place a skeletal ‘kiss’ against your palm. “Very well, it seems that you’ve convinced me. I seem to have chosen quite the precocious human as my mate, you seem to be naturally born for commanding and convincing others. From now on, you are free to roam the castle by yourself, on two conditions. The first is that we give you a means of contacting me directly, should you find yourself lost or injured alone. The second is that you will still accept an escort for any trips outside of the castle, no matter your past familiarity with whatever world. Do we have a deal?”

Honestly, Nightmare’s requests were completely fair and reasonable. While you did have your phone, it was still extremely difficult to navigate it, and you likely wouldn’t be able to use it reliably in an emergency. If your boyfriend had an alternative method, then it would be good to have the freedom to go wherever, but with the safety net of knowing that someone will come if you need them to. And as embarrassing as an escort might be outside of the castle, it was still smart. It took you quite a bit of time and practice to navigate the castle on your own, despite your past familiarity with it, and a new space would require such with the aid of someone who could see. There was also the fact that, now that your relationship was public, it was only a matter of time before one of the idiots that you called your friends would let word get out. Then, you’d have a target on your back, a weak spot to be used against Nightmare. It was honestly for the best if you didn’t leave the castle alone anymore, not with several capable fighters that could protect you. “Those requests both seem quite reasonable to me, so I accept.”

“Good, I am glad that you can see I only want what is best for you, my dear. Keeping you safe is just as important to me as my goals.” After a moment more of cuddles, he eventually set you back into your chair alone, his footfalls indicating that he was going back to his own behind his desk. “I’ll see to the creation of a totem of sorts, one made of my own magic. It will allow you to contact me and call me to your side, no matter where you are. Between this, and my assurance that you will be treated as you wish to be, have I dealt with the issue you came to speak to me about?”

“Mhm, I honestly feel a lot better too, so thanks. I can’t see it, but I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to get done. I’ll leave you be so that you can get it finished.” When he didn’t try to stop you, you got up from your seat and wandered back towards the door. Just as you opened it though to step back outside, you turned back and sent him a wide smile. “Thank you for being so understanding and accepting Night, I really appreciate it.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled as the sound of pen scribbling on paper echoed through the otherwise quiet room. “You go enjoy yourself my dear, I shall speak with you again at dinner.” With his dismissal, you left the door in the same barely open position that you originally found it in before heading back to the stairs. It was about time for you to do what Nightmare told you to do and make your voice be heard. Then maybe your friends would go back to how they used to be and stop treating you differently.

******************************************************************************

Alright, so if you didn’t read my post earlier this week about getting you readers involved, you can read it here because I’m not repeating myself. (aka I’m lazy XD)

And since nobody commented on that post, it made it pretty clear to me that relying on Tumblr comments isn’t a good idea and that I should go with a poll website. So... here ya go!

https://strawpoll.com/634w9bq42

In the next part, Nightmare will be away running important errands, so MC will have to find some way to entertain themselves! Where they go is up to you, as are the result benefits from your choices. I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you all choose!

First | < Prev | Part 4 (Here) | Next >

#mc #x reader #nightmare sans #established relationship #tw blindness #mc doesn't like being treated like they're fragile #mc is honestly just trying to hold themselves together #depression not making an appearance this time but likely soon #is mc gonna get a puppy?#nightmare would totally get them a puppy #you better vote or I'll steal your kneecaps /j #seriously though please vote #you guys need to participate for this idea to work and be fun #it'll be worth it promise #saurex works

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blackbat05 · 3 years ago

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I need a break

Shangqi x Reader (Platonic)

A/N: I feel like I’m loosing steam towards the end of my placement and wow I have never needed a break this badly before. Perhaps a short Shangqi x Reader imagine where they are both University students. Seriously at this rate I’ll just be solely a Shangqi writer HAHAHA. Doing this on my phone because I don’t want to open my work computer. Let’s see where this impromptu idea takes me to. Hope you enjoy it and as always like and comment if you wish!

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: None really, just friends supporting each other! I guess there’s an inaccurate timeline if you look at the MCU but hey this is an imagine plus if you look at some of the wiki pages, Shangqi is actually born in 1998/1999. So appreciate if you’re kind enough to go with the flow to read this comfort fic!

‘Y/N!’ Shangqi rushes to catch up with you after class. You made an effort to conceal your tiredness but he saw it right through. ‘Gosh…you alright?’

You think to yourself. Were you really alright? The answer was pretty obvious. You were ten weeks into your placement and your emotions were a jumbled up mess. Having to deal with work responsibilities was one problem, school assignments were another issue all together. At this point, you felt like you were just getting through each week for the sake of it.

At first, you believed that what you were going through was simply a transition to becoming an adult. You thought that naturally, you would be able to persevere through the stressful periods by yourself. But of course, it has been hard.

You were a social work intern at a neighborhood youth centre, thirty minutes away if you took the train and bus. The work was fulfilling in it’s own ways, but recently there were self-doubts filling your brain, if you were really cut out for the job in the future. If you weren’t, what else could you do?

As you sat with Shangqi in the school’s student-ran cafe, you found yourself pouring out the exact same concerns to him. Credit to him, Shangqi never interrupted your monologue, he just simply listened. That’s what best friends were for. That’s what you did for him to when he ran into issues with his family.

Even then, he couldn’t deny that hearing you doubt yourself broke his heart. He had known you since high school. You mostly kept to yourself and one or two close friends. Despite joining the school’s athletic team where you were one of the main athletes, you preferred to stay in the shadows unlike some of your teammates. That didn’t stop you from going out of your way to help other students in need; like helping the girl who was in an arm cast to copy the social studies notes, even if it meant you had to do it twice. Or maybe just talking to a friend who was stressed out about their results.

Basically, you had studied your ass off to get a secured spot at this university who were only one of the few that offered the degree. He remembers you telling him the moment you got your offer, ‘I’m finally good at something. I don’t have to worry anymore!’

Shangqi wasn’t stupid. The pandemic had done some crazy things. And by crazy, it affected the self-esteem that you had been working so hard on by participating in various projects and events, with you being in charge of a drama production that was promoting on mental health. That was a big deal considering that you were a major introvert.

Online engagement was never easy. In fact he has heard some of your struggles that you’ve shared with him regarding this and it only makes him admire you even more. For someone who preferred to keep to themselves, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, to take on a role that wasn’t just simply about helping people - that took guts.

‘I’m sorry I’m just loading you with all this. I just feel…’ You trailed off, suddenly becoming emotional again. Again, Shangqi does not pry. ‘That I can’t do anything right.’ You emphasize that you had ended the statement for you were unsure that you could keep your cool if you had tried to continue on.

‘If I hear you saying sorry another time,’ he chides, ‘you’re paying for our meal later.’ Your lips curved upwards slightly before returning to its somber position. Shangqi decides that a meal won’t cut it. He needs to deploy ‘Operation Y/N’. Standing up with your buzzer to collect the food, Shangqi whips out his phone. There will be a few changes for today.

Food was definitely a cure in this situation, but it was only a part of the solution. After inhaling your ramen at light speed, Shangqi tells you that today will be a different Friday. ‘And you can’t complain! It’ll be a weekend tmr,’ he tells you. So why not? You figured that even if you went back home early, your head wouldn’t be in the right place to complete the essay for your English module.

‘Hold up! The VR studio that Katy was talking about?’ You look at the tickets inside the taxi that was taking you and Shangqi to the location. ‘How did you even, it was so hard to get these tickets!’ From the time Shangqi met you outside the classroom, he had yet to see you so ecstatic. Until now.

‘Well,’ Shangqi gives his best shrug. ‘I called in a favor from a friend. Said that it was for emergency purposes.’ He raised his fingers to make connotations in the air much to your amusement.

‘Wow… just how much do I not know about you Mr Popular?’ You teased. Shangqi decides to leave the fact on him having to persuade the Wakandan Princess in giving him free tickets.

‘Please! I swear whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it! It’s for Y/N!’

‘Ey well why didn’t you say so? If it’s for that nice friend, of course!’ Shuri leaves the entrance of the compound, an exasperated Shangqi trailing behind.

Yeah, the VR studio that Katy told them about was also funded by King T’Challa himself. With stunning life like visuals thanks to Wakandan technology, the VR studio was located in a middle class neighborhood. T’Challa believed that no matter where kids came from, they should have the right to enjoy and to explore the world. For now, he wasn’t ready to share that he was on the way on becoming a full-fledged Avenger yet - you just had too much on your plate. He’ll just have to settle with this white lie.

‘Is Katy coming?’ You were on the verge of vibrating off your seat. ‘She would love this place!’ Even when you were struggling, Y/N still manages to think about other people. Today, Y/N will put her needs first.

As if to answer your previous question, you can see an equally excited Katy waiting for the two of you at the roundabout. ‘HEL-LO EVERYONE! LET’S GET OUR FRIDAY STARTED IN PROPER SHALL WE?’ Her loud voice had attracted stares, some very displeased looks too but at this point in time, you didn’t give a damn. Katy was right, it was time to enjoy!

You wished that you could slow down time, or even replay it continuously when you needed cheering up because the only thing you felt was pure happiness - euphoria even. Your stomach was in knots for laughing hysterically together with Katy when Shangqi jumped in shock from a surprise scare from a zombie. ‘I’m keeping that for leverage,’ she tells you, quietly slipping her phone into her fanny pack.

The Wakandans had really outdone themselves this time. Your favorite VR was the paradise VR. Slipping the headgear, you say goodbye to the smiles of Katy and Shangqi, whisking away to a beach that oddly reminded you of your dream destination - Hawaii. From where you were standing, you were surrounded by green and majestic islands. Despite their sheer size, you weren’t intimidated. In fact, you were healing.

Your mind was no longer in the room of the VR studio. How could it when the sun kissed your skin, giving you the much needed energy that you were lacking for so long? In the room, the two sees you kick your shoes to the side, going barefoot. It may have seem strange, but with the monitor beside you, your actions were perfectly logical.

As a kid, you used to despise the prickly feeling of sand in between your toes. But now, you grew to love the sensation that each grain of sand had on your skin. It made you feel grounded, that everything was going to be ok. You raise your virtual hand to touch your face - were you crying?

‘She must have been really stressed huh?’ Katy whispers to Shangqi who nods in return. How he hated the fact that you were giving so much to your work but still felt underappreciated. Forget the Avengers with superhuman abilities, you were the true MVP. The VR ends and you remove your headgear. ‘I’m ok,’ you automatically reassure them despite the dry tears left on both cheeks. You step down the platform slowly, trying to regain sense of the real world.

What you didn’t expect was the two embracing you in a hug, squishing you in between them. Maybe that had set off the waterworks. For someone like Katy, she had sage advice.

‘Life can be pretty shitty right? But I’m so proud of you fighting it Y/N. Just remember that it’s ok to be weak. I mean, I’ve seen worse from Shangqi,’ she jabs her finger towards his direction, earning a glare from him. That’s Katy, always trying to add a bit of humor to this grey world. Calming down, you let go of the both of them. ‘Thanks guys, for everything.’

‘Hey,’ Shangqi responds, slinging his arm over your shoulder. ‘We’re friends, so we don’t leave each other behind.’ Phone beeping, he retrieves it to check the message. ‘And look at that, nice timing. Who wants Korean BBQ?’

Trailing behind them, you get an amusing view of Shangqi bickering with Katy on how many Soju bottles she’s allowed to order later. As San Francisco welcomed the night, you were just thankful that you had the two of them to walk through this crazy maze called life.

‘Last one to the shop is paying!’

‘Oh you’re on Mister!’

A/N: I really just think that this was also an imagine for me to cope too. So I can only hope to finish my placement/assignments/exams well! To anyone who does studies and work simultaneously, I fucking respect you (allow me to use expletives for now, these people deserve the respect). If you’re going through a stressful time, I hope this brings the slightest comfort for you and remember… YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Again, thank you for reading!

#shang chi #xu shangqi #shangqi x reader #shangqi imagine #katy shang chi #shang chi x reader #shangqi #simu liu

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crowfootwrites · 4 years ago

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Los Guardianes | Part II [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]

In which Nestor needs a bandaid and we learn more about you.

Also, my apologies for any mistakes/errors. I was trying to edit this while surrounded by other people, so...

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, and injury; language; mentions of alcohol | Words: 1,600+

Taglist: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie

Part I of Los Guardianes

You had assumed, in your little flirtation with Nestor, that he was joking about coming around injured. So, when he showed up two days later, a little late for afternoon pickup, with a large piece of bloodstained gauze taped to one side of his face, you were shocked.

Your classroom was empty, and your aide had left for the day, leaving you to hang out with Cristóbal while you waited for Nestor to arrive. You were sitting at your desk with Cristóbal beside you, each of you scribbling away with crayons on coloring pages. Movement registered in the corner of your vision and you glanced up to see Nestor standing in the doorway, his face bandaged and the arm of his dress shirt covered in dried blood. His normally immaculate dress pants and shirt were covered in a layer of silt. You inhaled sharply as you rose from your seat, your feet carrying you quickly to stand in front of him. Cristóbal went to Nestor immediately, wrapping himself around Nestor’s leg in a fierce hug. Nestor sagged against the door frame with a grimace and your fingers reached for him instinctively, pausing when he met your gaze. But there was something encouraging in his glance, so you placed your cool hand softly against the feverish skin around the gauze. His eyes closed for just a moment, leaning into your touch, before you spoke.

“You know, I didn’t think you were actually going to take me up on my offer… I’m not sure I have any robot bandaids big enough for all this,” you teased quietly, tracing the bloodstained dressing. Nestor’s eyes opened and he smirked. You pulled your hand away, exceedingly aware of your rapidly increasing heart rate.

“Are you ok?”

His nod was slight, but it made you feel a little better. “I’m sorry I was late,” he mumbled, wincing as he took a breath. “I hate that you had to stay on my account.” He tapped Cristóbal and motioned for him to collect his backpack out of his cubby. Cristóbal did as he was asked, leaving you standing there alone with Nestor.

“Nestor, it’s really fine. Besides, if someone else had come to pick him up, I probably would have assumed you were dead, and that would have been worse.”

He studied you seriously for a few seconds, his expression giving nothing away. You tucked your arms behind your back nervously, rocking back onto your heels, but you managed to keep your eyes locked on his.

“Still,” he said finally. “I’d like to make it up to you. Can I take you out for a drink?” Cristóbal lumbered over, his backpack comically large on his small frame.

You smiled softly, trying not to appear as flustered as you felt on the inside. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Nestor grinned, and underneath the blood and filth, his face lit up. “I’ll text you,” he said with a quick nod, his stare raking over your body briefly before turning and ushering Cristóbal to the car.

Nestor had texted you that same evening and asked you to grab a drink with him the next day, which was how you found yourself at a low-key, dimly lit bar on the outskirts of Santo Padre on a Friday night. Your inclination towards promptness meant you had arrived fifteen minutes early, so you headed inside and took a seat at the bar, ordering a gin and ginger.

You glanced around you, trying to hold back the nervousness fluttering in your belly. You fiddled with the hem of your black dress before laying it flat against your thigh. In your classroom, you rarely wore anything other than pants and leggings. Working with preschoolers meant that you were always prepared to be crouching, crawling on the ground, sitting on the floor, bending over, carrying kids on your hip, cleaning up various bodily fluids, getting things spilled on you. So, it was always a treat to get to dress up and you felt extra cute tonight.

Shortly after the bartender returned with your drink, you heard Nestor’s low, familiar voice near the shell of your ear.

“I was supposed to buy that for you,” he murmured, and you shivered just slightly at the fanning of his warm breath on your neck. His hand grazed your lower back as he passed you to take the stool next to yours.

You ducked your head to hide your grin. “You can buy the next one.”

Your smile faltered as he faced you completely and you got a clearer look at his injuries. He had forgone the gauze on his face, instead opting for a series of butterfly closures running down the jagged cut along his cheekbone. He was sporting a shiner on the eye on that side, but he seemed like he was in one piece otherwise.

“How’s the face?” you asked with a grimace.

“I’ve had worse,” he told you before ordering a beer from the bartender.

“I guess a life of crime would do that to you,” you said, and he glanced over at you with a raised eyebrow, perhaps trying to gauge how you meant it. You tossed him a wink and he smirked, shaking his head slightly.

“So,” you asked casually, “how did you end up being a security detail to the little man?”

“Big man’s mad at me.”

You laughed. “What?”

Nestor sighed, smoothing his facial hair with a hand punctuated by scabbed knuckles. “I, uh – fucked up, a while ago. Caused a lot of issues for Mikey. He put me on school duty as a punishment, I guess.” He paused, tossing back his beer. “But things are really tense right now, too, and I think it helps Mikey to have Cristóbal with someone he trusts. So, he kept me on it. And it’s fine, you know? They’re my family.”

He met your gaze meaningfully. “And it’s a nice way to start the morning,” he added.

“You’re really good with Cristóbal,” you commented warmly, heat rising on your cheeks. You hoped he couldn’t tell just how much you adored that about him.

Nestor’s lips curled into a small smile. “I’ve been around his whole life. Plus, he’s a pretty great kid.”

“Can confirm.” You paused around a sip of your cocktail. “So, I would imagine that you can’t share too much, but what does being the head of security for a cartel boss entail?”

Nestor’s eyes darkened broodingly, and you wondered if you’d overstepped, although you’d tried to acknowledge that you realized there were things you weren’t allowed to know. He leaned onto the top of the bar on his elbow, studying you again. “A lot of illegal shit. A lot of violence.” He paused thoughtfully. “But it’s also just a lot of… waiting. A lot of phone calls, researching, driving, babysitting – and not just babies.”

You chuckled at his sardonic choice of words. “I don’t know how you do it,” you joked. “I’m only okay with the babysitting involved in my job because they’re actual babies.”

“What made you decide to be a preschool teacher?” he asked, his shoulders relaxing a bit. You were distracted for a moment by the way his floral dress shirt pulled taut over his biceps and you swallowed hard.

“Uh – I got my degree in elementary education, and I started out as a kindergarten teacher. I was working in LA, but I had sort of a… rough patch, and needed to start over somewhere else. When the director, Maria, opened New River, she offered me a spot so I could come down to Santo Padre and get my shit back together.” You took a long pull on your drink, trying to swallow down your nerves.

Nestor’s head was tilted to the side curiously and you waited to see if he would inquire further. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding when he stuck to easy questions.

“How long have you been in Santo Padre?” he asked, tapping his fingers against his beer bottle.

“About two years. You?”

“Most of my adult life. I grew up with Mikey. And then I was in the Navy, moving around a lot. When I got out, Miguel offered me the job and I’ve been here ever since.” He shrugged slightly.

You studied him thoughtfully for a moment, the question you’d been wanting to ask him since you first met him resting on the tip of your tongue. He held your gaze steadily, so you went for it.

“Is it lonely?”

In the brief silence that followed, you wondered again if you had overstepped, if maybe it was too personal of a question. But you also felt strongly that the way Nestor answered would give you some indication as to his intentions with you.

His eyes narrowed on you, his head cocked to the side. “It can be.” He shifted on his barstool, his clothed knee knocking gently against yours, the touch sending electricity directly to your heart. Before you could respond to his statement, he asked, “Are you lonely?”

You were immediately annoyed at yourself for not anticipating that he would turn the question back on you; that was followed by the rush of embarrassment at your answer. Your mind reeled. Should you be honest with him? If you told him about your past, would he feel sorry for you? If you shared how and why you ended up in Santo Padre, would he pity you? You didn’t want that.

But.

You also desperately wanted to trust him. There was something about Nestor that made you feel safe, and while you supposed that was a side effect of his job, his interest in you represented a connection you hadn’t had with another person in years. And that alone pushed you towards the truth.

Your eyes found the bar top as you answered. “Yeah. I am.” You waited nervously for the follow-up questions, but they never came.

Instead, you felt Nestor’s knee knock softly against yours again and you looked up to meet his eyes. “Maybe you don’t have to be anymore,” he offered, leaning to bump his shoulder into yours, making you smile.

Part III of Los Guardianes

#mayans fx #mayans mc #mayansmc #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor oceteva x reader #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva x you

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

Text

...Ready For It? // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone who said they wanted to read this story, whether it was in the poll I posted 12 hours ago or when I first posted In My Dreams... You Should See The Things We Do back in June (!) - I actually started working on this not that long after I posted and while the skeleton concept stayed the same, everything else was kind of fluid until last month when I finally felt satisfied with it. As always, thank you to @cal-puddies for listening to me whine and obsess over every detail and for (virtually) slapping me upside the head every time I said I was going to just scrap it (and there were many times, trust.)

Note this is a sequel but I think there’s enough context within this piece that you’d be able to enjoy as a standalone if you haven’t read or forgot what happened during In My Dreams...

Warnings: Sexual tension, frustration and resolution. I couldn’t figure out how to do specific warnings without also spoiling the narrative (yes, really) so this is kind of a blanket fluffy smut warning. The sex is explicit in detail but not extreme in nature. ‘Tis a soft, dirty story you’re about to read. Also yes, Ash wears the mountain pants again and no, I will not apologize.

Word Count: 10,555

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let me know what you think!

“I can’t say this is how I imagined getting you out of your clothes for the first time but after months of isolation, I’ll take what I can get,” you quip.

Ashton giggles as he peels off his button down shirt, leaving him in a classic white tank. “I can’t say anything about tonight has gone the way I imagined it would,” he confesses. “I’m sorry things have been kind of a bust.”

You try not to blatantly ogle his muscular build as you playfully jab, “You mean, you didn’t spend all that time longing for us to spend hours waiting outside a restaurant for a socially distant table only to be turned away because now it’s closing time and ending up having to eat drive thru burgers in the backseat of your car?”

“With ketchup dripping all over one of my best shirts? And you saving the day with a suspiciously convenient stain remover pen?” He riffs, passing his top to you.

“Exactly how I pictured it,” you shrug, dabbing at his shirt with the aforementioned magic pen. “Shame, our fantasies tend to match up a lot better than this.”

You’d never thought much of long distance relationships and you especially never thought you’d find yourself in one with only a few miles separating you but 2020 had been full of surprises; getting to know Ash had turned out to be the silver lining in an otherwise terrible year.

You’ve each reflected on it plenty and agreed it seems as if your connection was destined to see you both through this strange period. You met at the last party you were invited to before quarantine started, you ran into each other again at the last concert either of you got to attend. Your first date was also your final restaurant meal, the last time you went to a movie was with a group of mutual friends and you sat next to him, giggling like a teenager, intentionally brushing his fingers in the popcorn tub.

When the stay at home order was issued, it didn’t take long for you to check in with each other and while it wasn’t an easy time, you were grateful to build a bond with literally no outside influence. And now after countless texted inside jokes, heart to heart phone calls (and more than a few naughty ones), restrictions had been relaxed and you were finally able to reunite. Only the real world is proving to be a bit more complicated than either of you remember.

“You know, I’m not usually a ‘hop in the backseat on a first date’ kind of gal, but this is pretty fun,” you joke.

Ashton grins. “If it makes you feel any better, I think technically this is maybe our third or fourth date?”

“Anything pre-quarantine doesn’t count,” you shake your head insistently. “That was a lifetime ago, another world. I cook now, I go for walks, I do crosswords now. Whoever you went out with in The Before Times - I don’t know her.”

His loud laugh fills the car and the warmth of it overwhelms you; after months of hearing it through a speaker, you can’t believe you’re finally getting to witness it in person.

"So if we’re starting over at square one, then what’s the explanation for that kiss you laid on me when I picked you up?” He teases.

“I’m a complex woman, I feel like you should know that by now,” you reply with a coy shrug, handing him his now stain free shirt.

The two of you finish your meals, chatting happily and making non-stop jokes about what a fail your date was. You’re relieved at how natural things are flowing; you knew there was undeniable chemistry but part of you was still nervous about getting used to being around each other - another person, even - again. But beyond the standard date jitters, things were comfortable and familiar.

Your anxiety briefly returns as he pulls the car into your driveway. Of course you want to invite him in, you’ve been waiting so long to invite him in but things just feel… off. You turn, ready to offer an apologetic goodnight but before you get a chance, he’s turning to look at you sheepishly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” He rushes out, nervously running a hand through his hair. You watch him, fascinated. You’re still not used to how long his hair got in quarantine and you’re definitely not used to seeing him bashful. “I know we joked about it and I appreciate you being cool about everything but I really did want to give you the night out you deserve… and that just didn’t happen. I’d like to try again.”

Your heart swells at his sincerity; he’d always been so genuine and open over the phone, but it’s almost overwhelming experiencing it while he’s looking into your eyes. “Have I never told you that ketchup stains are one of my biggest turn ons?” You tease, hoping to ease some of his obvious embarrassment. “Hey, we’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer?”

A little bit longer ends up being the following weekend. It turns out, coming up with romantic and yet responsibly distanced date ideas is harder than either of you thought. With you both having the luxury of working from home and generally not having to venture out unless absolutely necessary, you both decide you’re most comfortable with eliminating the public out of the equation as much as you can.

You settle on a short hike followed by a picnic and when you open your front door you realize just how unprepared you are for the concept of Morning Ash. You smile to yourself as you realize that he must have overslept as his face is still adorably puffy from sleeping, hair still wet from the shower. Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow is still present - he must have been running so late he had to forego his morning shave. The thought of waking up next to him looking like this pops into your mind, that soon you could be the reason he’s running late in the morning and your stomach actually drops.

You push your thoughts aside as you move to greet him with a hug; his cologne is prominent and obviously freshly sprayed and you think to yourself that you're excited to smell like him for the rest of the day.

“Got a surprise for you in the car,” he murmurs.

You’re in the middle of wondering how he makes even a simple white t-shirt look devastating when he opens the passenger door for you. Before you even climb in, you’re instantly greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast burritos and he chuckles at the way your face lights up.

“Flowers seemed too formal for a morning date, I figured caffeine and grease was just as nice.”

“I’ve never felt more seen by a partner,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss.

You start to pull away to get in the car but Ashton snakes his arms around you and draws you back in for a few more smooches. “Figure we should get as many of these in as we can now, those burritos are no joke,” he laughs.

It’s a bit of a drive to get to a hiking trail that seemed unlikely to be crowded but you don’t mind. After months of waiting to be in this man’s presence, the more time you can spend with him the better. The trip passes quickly, with the two of you basking in each other’s company, play-arguing over playlists and agreeing that “when this is all over” you should plan a road trip together.

“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he observes, pulling the car into the empty lot. He’s first out of the car and you hear a distinct “UGH” from him as soon as he steps out. He sees your puzzled look through the windshield as he walks around to your side to open your door. “I didn’t expect it to be so fuckin’ hot,” he explains.

You get out and instantly scrunch up your face as a gust of hot wind breezes over you. “Well, we did travel more inland, I guess it makes sense it’d be a little warmer,” you reason.

You commiserate about the weather and then Ash starts gathering your things from the trunk of the car, taking non-essentials out of your backpacks since the heat is going to make your hike a lot less leisurely than planned.

Despite the weather, the first portion of your hike is nice: you stroll and talk, enjoying the scenery and your time together. Ashton brought his camera with him and you catch him sneaking a few photos of you along the trail so you teasingly start snapping an excessive amount of pics of him using your phone.

As you get closer to the area you planned on stopping at for lunch, the heat starts getting more and more intense. The morning clouds have now dissipated and the sun is bright and unrelenting, causing the conversation to drag as you both start breathing a little more labored, focusing on getting to your stopping point as quickly as possible. It takes a lot longer than expected and by the time you reach your picnic spot, you’re both exhausted and covered in sweat.

You spread a blanket on the ground and immediately throw yourself on it, grateful for a chance to rest. You look up and see Ash peeling off his t-shirt and draping it over a rock in hopes it will dry before you have to head back.

Normally you’d be silently reprimanding yourself for staring at his bare flesh on display but truthfully all you’re thinking about is how much skin he’s exposing to the sun. “Think we left the sunscreen in the car,” you declare, sitting up to dig through your stuff. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, you’re gonna get fried if you don’t throw that back on.”

He sprawls out on the blanket next to you. “We’re shaded, it’ll be fine,” he insists, pulling his sweat-soaked hair back with a rubber band from his wrist.

The picnic is pleasant but far from the romantic adventure you’d envisioned. You’d hoped the two of you would be laughing under a tree, eating a delicious meal as an equally delicious breeze grazes your skin. The reality is the two of you sitting in silence because you’re so uncomfortable under the unforgiving sunshine, eating food that you would’ve preserved better had you known about the weather, as a hot wind scorches your skin. The part of you that had fantasized about sneaking in a heated makeout can’t get enough of the irony that this date is definitely heated, just not in the way it should’ve been.

With the peak temperature of the day still to come, you agree to call it and head for the car already; Ash puts his shirt back on and you notice him wincing as he moves his obviously sunburned skin, but you choose to say nothing.

The trek back is quiet, both of you physically drained and a bit mentally defeated at yet another date gone awry. At one point, you stop in a shaded area to catch your breath and you give him a quick kiss. “Had fun,” you say quietly. He offers you a soft smile in return.

The drive home is equally lowkey, the discontent and exhaustion of the day filling where there should be sexual tension. He knows the mood has deflated considerably so he doesn’t even ask you to come back to his, he just drives you home.

The car pulls into your driveway and you turn to him. “Think we’re cursed or something?” Your voice is joking but he can detect the undertone of worry.

Ash gives you a bright smile that’s instantly a comfort. “Nah… maybe cursed with too much ambition and insufficient planning skills but I have no doubt this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” He reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.

He walks you to your door and gives you a long kiss that almost has you reconsidering inviting him in. “We got this,” he whispers.

You ruffle his hair. “I’ve also got aloe you can borrow for these sunburns, how are you even able to move?” You laugh, unlocking your door.

A few days pass before either of you broach the subject of another date; you’re finally the one to bring it up and you both agree on a simple dinner at home for the next night.

“Third time’s a charm, right?” You joke as he opens the door.

He draws you in for a slow kiss as you step inside. You murmur when you feel his facial hair brush against you; his beard is fuller than when you last saw him and you suspect he may have quit shaving simply based on the reaction you’d had to the look on your date. “Well, we’re already off to a good start, I’d say,” he comments against your lips.

You’ve only ever seen Ashton’s house in the background of your video chats and when he notices you looking around with fascination, he excitedly offers to give you a tour. You swear you can actually hear your heart going pitter patter as he proudly escorts you around, sharing funny memories about his friends involving each room or telling elaborate stories about different trinkets he owns. You can tell he’s missed entertaining people in his home and you’re so happy that you’re able to fill that void for him tonight.

You follow him to the kitchen. “Smells amazing, must be quite the dish,” you tease, knowing full well you sent him the “secret” recipe for your grandma’s spaghetti sauce the night before. He pokes at you and you giggle, “Anything I can do to help?”

“The groceries should be delivered any minute,” he answers, checking his phone. “There’s gloves and sanitizer wipes under the sink if you don’t mind taking care of that when it arrives.”

A few minutes later, you peck his cheek as you pass by to go outside and tend to your assignment. Ash nearly spirals when it’s discovered that the shopper made some substitutions without asking but you reassure him that dinner’s not ruined even if the sauce uses regular sugar instead of brown and will be poured over fettuccine noodles instead of spaghetti.

“Not to jinx anything but I think this is our best first date yet,” you joke after dinner, getting out two coffee mugs from the cabinet he’d directed you to.

“All we had to do was eliminate the variables: other people, the weather, the outside world in general,” he ticks off the list on his fingers with a smile.

You hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and slide closer to where he stands loading the dishwasher. “Well. Just proves that all we really need is each other,” you muse, with a sweet smile. He grins at you, drying his hands so that he can cradle your face and kiss you. His hands are soft from the soap he just used and you sigh approvingly into his mouth as his thumb draws circles on your cheek.

That flirty but sweet tone continues as you move to the living room; you sit on the couch, drinking your coffee, chatting comfortably. You both keep finding reasons to scoot closer together, a thick layer of tension between you. You’d each talked a big game when sharing fantasies about what your first time might be like but now that it might be here, you’re surprised by the hazy combination of excitement and nerves you feel.

It’s hard to say who makes the first move: there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly, a kiss. Ashton’s hands quickly make their way into your hair and before long, things get heated and you find yourself climbing into his lap to straddle him. This was about as far as things had gotten between you pre-quarantine and it’s as glorious as you remember.

You roll your hips above him and he groans into the mark he was leaving on your neck; your shirt rides up with your movements and his fingers softly dance over the exposed skin. As you nibble along his jaw, his hands find their way up the back of your shirt and you shiver at his warmth. You put your hands on his wrists, guiding them up, letting him know it’s OK to take your shirt off; he does and you silently thank your past self for wearing one of your pretty bras tonight.

“So beautiful, baby,” he breathes and then his mouth is back on yours, hands busy exploring the new skin on display for him. You shift your hips again and this time find yourself the one to groan, feeling him hard beneath you for the first time; you’ve spent a lot of time wondering what this would feel like and it’s more intoxicating than you ever could’ve imagined.

Ash lifts you off his lap and lays you back on the couch, peeling his own shirt off before moving to be on top of you. He kisses you hungrily and then makes his way down your body, the scratch of his beard deliciously teasing you, lips pecking over every inch of your neck before they attach to the tops of your breasts.

You pull him back up to your mouth and slide your hands down to unbuckle his belt. You brush over his length through his jeans and nearly gasp at the contact; you know he’s not even fully hard and he feels huge. This revelation has you getting impatient and you attempt to push his pants down. "Jesus dude, are these painted on or what?" You joke, struggling.

"Hey, I could ask you the same thing," he retorts, running his hands along your ass to prove his point. With a goofy smile, he asks, "Should we pause and de-pants ourselves?"

You laugh as you untangle yourself from his body and pull your pants off while he does the same. He eyes your matching lace lingerie and teases, "That’s some mighty fancy underwear you've got on there, Miss ‘Let’s Take The Pressure Off And Not Expect Anything To Happen Tomorrow Night’.”

You feel your cheeks warming at both his gawking attention and his implication you were hoping things would end up this way. You playfully fire back, "Maybe I dress like this all the time, you don't know me… or maybe I wanted to feel sexy for myself tonight." You try to pull him into a kiss but he pulls back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe I'm really behind on laundry and I only have the nice stuff left," you say with a sheepish giggle.

“That I believe,” he laughs delightedly. "Whatever the reason, you look fucking incredible.”

You intend to murmur a thanks but the way his kisses are currently being peppered in between your breasts causes it to come out as a moan instead. His fingers toy with the closure of your bra and he looks at you to softly ask, “May I?”

You nod enthusiastically and close your eyes as his mouth acquaints itself with your bare breasts, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mouths find each other again, tongues familiarizing themselves with every detail of each other. You reach between your bodies and grip the tent in his underwear; you trace the shape of him through the material and he breaks your kiss to let out a strained moan. “God, I can’t wait to make you cum,” you murmur, a bit surprised by your own boldness.

You feel Ash breathe deeply, affected by your words. “Well, I’m afraid I have a strict ‘ladies first’ policy in this house, so I clearly need to get started,” he jokes, attempting to steady himself. “Bedroom?”

He helps you off the couch and you start to reach for your discarded clothes but he pulls you along, shaking his head. “You won’t be needing those for a while,” he grins.

You follow him to his room, impressing yourself with how steady on your feet you are, how calm you feel; your heart is racing but it’s from anticipation instead of uncertainty, which is unusual for you when you’re about to sleep with someone new. You tend to make these decisions impulsively, with a bit of a “fuck now, ask questions later” attitude. The fact that you’ve waited for this long to be with him and that you feel totally at ease, wandering through his upstairs hallway in just your panties, is the latest in a series of signs telling you that your feelings for Ashton are different.

You settle on the bed while he pauses in the doorway, fiddling with the dimmer on the light switch, determined to get it just right. He finally comes over and you don’t waste any time, climbing over to the edge of the bed to pull off his boxers. His cock springs free and you bite your lip, hoping you’re not actually drooling like you fear you might be.

“You good?” He goads you with a smug smile. During a couple of your video romps, you’d gotten yourself off with toys and he teased you about your selections, calling you a size queen. As you find yourself fascinated surveying the notable length and girth in front of you, you have to admit, he’s not wrong.

You silence his remarks by leaning forward and tentatively licking his tip, closing your eyes in satisfaction when you taste a drop of precum. You roll your tongue around the head, tracing every curve and ridge with your tongue. When you get comfortable enough to wrap your lips around him and slowly start taking him into your mouth, he quietly breathes your name, brushing your hair out of your face, and you feel like you could cum right then and there.

He senses your eagerness and lets you work for a bit longer before he gently pulls you off with a heavy sigh. "Ladies first, remember?" He rasps, flashing you a dazzling smile that would've made you weak even if he wasn't naked in front of you.

He gestures for you to lay back as he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging his beard across your thighs before hooking his thumbs in your panties to slowly pull them off. You close your eyes, a blissful, close-mouthed smile decorating your face. Ash groans, gazing up at you. “Do you have any idea how many times I laid in this bed picturing what it’d be like to have you here like this?” He asks, raising himself up to kiss you passionately. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

His lips travel back down your body and you’re so caught up in how dreamy it is to finally feel him like this, you don’t notice he’s already made it back down your body and you cry out when his tongue licks a bold stripe up your center. You’re almost certain you feel him smile against you, proud of the reaction he’s achieved.

You run your hands through his long hair, trying your best not to tug at it too much, although you suspect he might enjoy that. He alternates between soft, fluttering licks at you and long, intentional strokes, using every centimeter of his wide tongue. It’s overwhelming but you breathe deeply, trying to maintain control; it’s when he wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking that you start writhing, your legs involuntarily closing in around his head and you tap at him to get his attention.

He immediately pulls back. “Too much?” He reassuringly squeezes your ankle, looking at you encouragingly. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, wanna do what I can to make you feel good.”

You sit up on your arms, lightheaded from both pleasure and his care. “Ash, oh my god, it feels amazing,” you insist, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I just… I really wanna cum with you in me... and I can’t always go for two… and it was feeling so good right now…”

Ashton leans up, pausing your nervous rambling with a sweet kiss. “Hey, it’s all good, I’m glad you told me,” he soothes. “Do you want to go ahead or do you need more time? We can do something else to get you ready. Your call.”

You grin and guide his hand to run along your wet folds. “I think this qualifies as ready, don’t you?”

“Alright, cheeky girl,” he teases, casually lifting his fingers from your wetness to his mouth, tasting you on them. “Still, there’s lube in the left nightstand if you want to get it out just in case.”

“Gentlemanly offer and a brag at the same time, I’m into it,” you laugh.

He giggles loudly, moving off the bed. “Gotta grab the condoms,” he explains, leaving the room.

You retrieve the bottle of lube like he suggested and tidy the bed up a little bit, adjusting the pillows to make yourself comfortable. He’s gone for what feels like a long time but you chalk it up to your excitement for what’s about to happen. You sit back, surveying the room, making mental notes about different things you want to ask him about later. Finally, you hear him call your name from down the hall and you curiously holler back at him.

He pops his head in the room, looking mildly panicked. “Please tell me you saw a box of condoms in the groceries you put away,” he inquires breathlessly.

Your heart sinks. “Um… no? I didn’t,” you take a steadying breath, bracing yourself for what seems like very bad news. “It was mostly food. And the napkins we used. Toothpaste I put in the bathroom. No condoms.”

Ash inhales sharply, nodding rapidly, which unsettles you; he comes to sit on the edge of the bed and drags his hands over his face and through his hair. “Well. This is just never gonna fucking happen, I guess,” he declares dramatically. You feel weirdly exposed now that the mood has shifted and you reach for a blanket to cover yourself with before you crawl over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. He smiles sadly and strokes over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I hadn’t dated in a while and then with lockdown… I didn’t know until yesterday what I had was expired so I tossed them and ordered some today… and they’re just… not here,” he says regretfully.

You chew your lip, evaluating how you should respond; you’re disappointed, obviously - very disappointed - but Ashton is clearly upset with himself and you don’t want to make him feel any worse. “I suppose it’d be irresponsible of me to suggest we ignore this road block by employing the old ‘spray and pray’ method?” You joke… at least you think you’re joking.

He snorts, turning to look at you with a smile on his face, which makes you feel better about things. “I’m sure you’re not serious but no, after all this time, after we finally had the perfect date, no, I’m not going to pull out and ‘spray and pray,’ he chuckles.

You smile back at him. “Well,” you start flirtatiously, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t wait to make you cum.” Your fingers dance along his bare thigh, travelling close to his softened cock. “We can still fool around, if you want.”

He looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand on his leg. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Ash, as sweet as you are, this is an entirely selfish act on my part, I really just want you to moan for me,” you smirk, moving to sit back against the pillows. “Plus this is possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been and if I don’t get off soon, I might actually die.”

Grinning, he crawls up the bed and settles in next to you. “Well. Can’t have that, now can we?” He teases in a low voice, kissing you with an intoxicating restraint. “Got anything particular in mind?” He feels you sigh against him as he gets his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast.

It takes you a second to find your voice again, still getting used to the novelty of being able to feel his touch. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth back on you,” you confess with heavy breath. “Or we could just, you know, play with each other.” You slide your hand down to find his cock, lightly rubbing your fingertips up and down his shaft, feeling it start to rise for you again.

Ash groans and throws his arm around your shoulders, turning so that you’re cradled into his side. Your hand lazily drags over his length while he holds you, kissing you with a renewed intensity. The arm around you softly massages your shoulder while his free arm is exploring your body: palming your breasts, twirling your nipples, fingers caressing the rise and fall of your tummy.

He breaks the kiss as his hand makes its way between your legs, tentatively brushing along your inner thigh, watching you closely as his fingers move to trace your lips and then your folds. He swirls through your wetness and then gently starts rubbing your clit; your hand instantly stills on him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“This feel alright?” He asks, studying your face.

You take your free hand and place it on his, encouraging him to apply more pressure. “So good, Ash,” you murmur, raising your mouth to his again, eager to have his affection completely enveloping you.

You resume your motion on his cock, stroking him firmly, listening for the hitches in his breath or gentle grunts to tell you that your instincts of how to please him are correct. You try to recall what you can from the months you spent watching him touch himself online; you vividly remember him twisting over the tip while he used his other hand to cradle his balls. You give it a try and he lets out a loud moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you familiarize yourselves with each other’s bodies, savoring the noises you’re pulling from each other because although it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard them, it’s the first time they’re being caused by you.

Ashton’s fingers tease along your entrance and you can’t breathe out a “Please” fast enough; he slides two fingers inside and starts thrusting. He starts with a moderate pace but you’re so worked up, you’re bucking against his hand almost immediately, overwhelmed at the thought of some part of him finally inside you.

You try your best to keep jerking him off but it’d be an understatement to say you’ve become distracted as his fingers move in you; you whisper an apology as you let go of him, starting to lose control, digging your nails into his bicep, whining at how you can feel it flex from the way he’s working your body.

Ash can’t get enough of how receptive you are to him so when you mutter out another “Sorry” upon realizing how red the skin around his snake tattoo is from you holding on to him, he squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. “Listen, you can scratch that thing clean off if it means I’m making you feel that good,” he teases, nipping at your neck. “Are you as close as it sounds like you are?”

You’re sure your cheeks must already be flushed but you still feel them warm up at the implication that he recognizes your noises from quarantine. You nod, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

"Do you need something different to help you finish or keep this up?" He asks, understanding in his eyes.

You groan and jump as his fingers hit your spot again. "Um, actually I think I’d like if you went back to just my clit."

He nods, following your instructions. He rubs careful circles, checking your face to see if he’s getting the pressure right. You start to tuck your face into Ashton’s chest to minimize your reactions but he tenderly pulls you back to lay with him, stroking his hand through your hair to soothe you as he feels you start to shake in his arms. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he praises, sucking below your ear. “Let me hear you, baby, you always sound so good when you cum for me.”

His raspy affirmations work in perfect tandem with the vigorous movement of his fingers and you begin to unravel. You breathily cry out his name as your back rises off the bed and your hands fly out on either side of you, one gripping the sheets, the other grabbing for his arm again.

Your hips buck, riding the waves of pleasure surging through your body. Ash watches you carefully, continuing to work you until he detects a slight wince of overstimulation and he removes his hand, deciding to kiss you through the rest of your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and while you’re definitely exhausted, you’re also eager to satisfy him in return. While he presses kisses over your face, whispering quiet praises as you settle, your hands move to explore his body again, one caressing at his chest and abs, the other taking hold of his cock, making good use of the precum he released while playing with you, starting to build momentum again.

He groans, closing his eyes, losing himself in your touch. You can't resist shifting slightly to travel down his body, pecking your way down his stomach, nibbling at his hips before moving your lips back to his cock. You suckle at the head and the throaty "Baby" you receive in return is already worth your trouble.

Ashton traces designs on your back while you suck him off; he constantly murmurs encouragement, which you appreciate because your heart is racing, this is the first time tonight you've felt truly nervous. You've always enjoyed giving head but you've fantasized about blowing Ash for so long you were slightly afraid it might not live up to expectations - for the both of you, since you'd shared many fantasies with him.

You try to pace yourself, not wanting to get greedy and take too much at once, using your hand to make up for what your mouth can't handle yet; every time you pull off to catch your breath and check in with him, he sweetly wipes at your mouth with his thumb and it's much cuter than it should be, considering the situation.

You bob along his shaft a few more times, fluttering your tongue along the underside, finding a particular vein you remember him paying special attention to. Your memory serves you correct and he emits a surprised whimper. He squeezes your shoulder a few times and you pull off curiously.

"Want your mouth on mine when I cum," he rasps.

You quickly reclaim your place laying in his arms, kissing him as requested. It’s just a few tugs until his breathing starts to stutter against your lips. "Fuck, yes, cum for me, Ash," you murmur, letting out a little moan yourself when you feel his cock throb in your hold.

Ash huffs out short belabored breaths as he moves his hand down to join yours, showing you how to work through his orgasm, adjusting slightly so that his cum shoots on to his own stomach instead of yours.

You lightly kiss him through it until he pulls your hand off of him, lacing his fingers in yours, squeezing briefly. You lay back in his arms, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

He pecks your forehead before he regrettably pulls away from you to gesture towards the tissue box on the bedside table. “Would you mind?”

You start to reach for it and then pause, deciding you’re comfortable enough to make a request. “Actually… could I…?” You trail off, raising your eyebrows as you steal a glance at his torso.

Ashton chuckles out a surprised “OK” and then you’re quickly shuffling down his body to get your mouth on his cum covered skin. He breathes in sharply when he feels your warm breath on him and his stomach flutters under your tongue as you clean him up, blissfully humming as you discover his taste.

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it out of the way, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. When you’re finished, you sit up and daintily wipe your mouth with your fingertips. You catch a glimpse of Ash looking downright dazed, chest still heaving from his orgasm, eyes glazed over from watching you eagerly volunteer to lick up his release.

With the heat of the moment having passed, you start feeling slightly self-conscious about your boldness. “Was that over the top? I feel like that was too much for a first time, oh my god,” you laugh, hands covering your face nervously. “I just… on our calls, every time I would watch you cum, I would just… think about it…” You shake your head, surprised at your own behavior.

He laughs and reaches for you, kissing the top of your head as you lay against him. "Just the right amount of 'too much', trust me." His voice gets deeper as he leans in to whisper, “I’d thought about it too, for the record. As fuckin’ hot as I’d thought it’d be.”

You lay quietly wrapped up in him for a bit longer and when you move to get out of bed, he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “D’ya wanna stay tonight?” He asks, hazel eyes swimming with sweetness and sincerity. “I didn’t want to jinx it and get stuff for breakfast but I was thinking we could order in.”

You smile brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “You can finally make me your famous coffee you’re always bragging about,” you tease.

“It’s disgusting, you’ll love it,” he grins, playfully pinching your ass as you get out of bed.

The next morning you wake up to the feeling of Ash climbing back into bed beside you. You open one eye and look him up and down suspiciously. “Where have you been?” You murmur.

He settles on his side, pulling you closer to him so your faces are inches from each other, at the edge of your respective pillows. “Ordered breakfast already, had to go unlock the front gate,” he explains, voice still thick with sleep. He strokes your hair and smiles at how you close your eyes, melting into his touch. “Sleep OK, baby?”

You feel your lips curl into a dreamy smile; you already knew you loved hearing him call you that but hearing it in his deep morning voice is fucking transcendent. “To be honest, it’s been so long since I slept next to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go at first,” you laugh, scooting closer. “You’re warm, though, which was nice.”

“Well at least I have that going for me,” he jokes with a mock pout, which you promptly move in to kiss right off his face. You enjoy a sleepy, slow makeout for a few minutes and then he pulls away.

He takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “Hey… I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night with the whole condom thing. I just got so frustrated because it seemed like we’d finally gotten it right… but that kind of negativity has no place in our relationship. Especially in a situation like that where you were feeling disappointed and vulnerable as well. So I’m sorry.”

“Ash,” you whisper softly. You take in the sight of him: long, dark curls darting out every which way from sleeping, scruffy beard you’re still certain he grew just for you, lips swollen from your kisses. His eyes are gorgeous as always but you can see the concern and remorse behind them and you feel like you can’t put him at ease soon enough. “You don’t have to apologize, it was disappointing and you don’t have to be Mr. Positivity 24/7 if you don’t feel like it. Not for me. I’d rather know how you’re really feeling.”

“I guess I thought this would be easier. We’ve had so long to think about being together and to plan for it and it’s just been a constant let down,” he admits.

You chew your lip. “Well, listen. Last night still worked out? We still got to be intimate, I still got to experience waking up next to you. Sort of,” you tease. He cracks a smile and you couldn’t be more thankful. “But what you just said, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe because we had so much time to think about this, maybe we’ve built it up too much in our minds and we’re just setting ourselves up to be disappointed.”

He nods, mulling over your words. “Like the fantasy was important during lockdown but now it’s tripping us up. If we were in more normal circumstances, we would’ve just slept together without much thought.”

“You really think your game’s that good?” You joke and he pinches you in response. “You’re right, though, I haven’t thought this much about a first time since I was a virgin.”

“So we need to find a middle ground between this idealization we’ve invented and doing it just to get it over with,” he suggests.

“Exactly,” you peck his lips in encouragement. “At the end of the day, it’s just sex. I’ve been looking forward to being with you, not to some super romantic, candlelit lovemaking experience at the end of a dream date.” “Whenever it happens, it’ll be perfect because we’re perfect,” he smiles.

The two of you carry that mentality with you throughout the next couple weeks. You hang out, go on a couple dates and even end up having a spontaneous video sex session like old times. You still burn with desire nearly every time he’s near you but removing that looming pressure to set the mood really does help put you at ease with each other. You feel more connected than ever, like you’re able to focus on him now instead of the experience.

“The drive-ins are opened back up now,” Ashton mentions during your afternoon call. “Think you might wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“God, remember movies? That could be fun,” you agree.

“A buddy of mine went last weekend, opened up the hatchback, put a bunch of pillows down, made it nice and cozy. Thought I might ask if I could borrow his car… we could have a little picnic back there before the movie,” he proposes.

You smile to yourself, loving how excited he gets planning dates. “Better bring your comfiest hoodie for me to steal, we’re gonna get fuckin’ snuggly.”

Ash loves a good reveal so when he picks you up, he’s sure to walk you around the front of the car so you don’t peek in the back of the mini SUV. You have fun teasing him on the way there, adjusting the mirrors, exaggeratedly acting like you’re glancing over your shoulder; watching his eyes go wide and hearing his stern “Hey!” simply never gets old.

Amused as he is by your game, Ashton knows how to tease you right back and when you arrive at the drive-in, before he gets out of the car to finish setting up, he offers you a kiss and a quiet warning of “Be good” that basically guarantees you’ll stay in your seat until he says otherwise.

After a few minutes, he finally calls you back there and you’re blown away at the elaborate transformation. He pops the hatchback up to reveal the back rows of seats have all been laid flat and a thin layer of memory foam lays across them, covered by piles and piles of blankets. Pillows of every shape and size adorn the setup, along with a small cooler and a tote of movie snacks. In the center of the makeshift bed is the pizza you picked up for dinner and two champagne flutes filled with your favorite soda.

“Ash,” you coo as you climb into the back of the car. “This is so fucking cute? You said your friend put some pillows down, not made an entire love nest back here.”

“Well, I may have embellished a little,” he chuckles modestly, following you inside. “One of our first hang outs was at a movie, so I thought our grand return should be special.”

You grin as you serve pizza onto each of your plates. “That feels like that was a thousand years ago but I still remember the chill that ran down my spine every time you leaned over the armrest to whisper some comment about the movie.”

“Yeah? I remember being nervous because I couldn’t tell if you were aroused or annoyed, to be honest,” he laughs.

“Oh it was definitely both at first. You talked a lot and I didn’t pay LA ticket prices to hear your commentary track,” you giggle, playfully shoving his shoulder as his jaw drops. “But then I decided I really liked how it felt to have you pay attention to me.”

“And of course what I was saying was clever and enlightening and added to your cinematic experience,” he adds on with a smirk.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, raising your eyebrows in exaggeratedly mocking agreement. He flicks your leg in response and you yelp, unable to keep from smiling at him. The two of you continue reminiscing and making easy conversation while you devour your pizza dinner. By the time you’re done, the sun is setting.

You lay back on the pillows you’ve propped up and watch intently as Ash gets rid of the pizza box at a nearby trash can. You’d both agreed that the dress code for tonight was ‘comfort’ and he went with a black t-shirt and an endearingly bizarre pair of lounge pants that feature a mountain landscape illustrated across the legs. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirt hugs his chest and biceps, drawing attention to the tattoos up and down his arms that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of. What is surprising is how the loose pants still cling to his body in all the right ways - pulling across his thick thighs and ass, making you wonder if he’s keeping things in his pockets or if the bulging in front you’re seeing is all him. You squeeze your legs together, pleased that he’s almost back at the car, eager to feel him, even if it’s just for a snugged up movie date.

He flashes you a dazzling smile as he walks up to the car. “What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?” He teases, settling in next to you. You feel your breath hitch as he comfortably rests his hand on your bare thigh, toying with the hem of your lounge shorts, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Just happy to be here,” you shrug, leaning over to peck his bearded cheek.

He hums at your affection, leaning his head on your shoulder as he fiddles with his phone, pulling up a radio app so he can tune to the station that will be broadcasting the audio for your screen. “It’s kind of a deadzone out there, there’s only maybe 5 other cars,” he reports, reaching behind you to make sure the bluetooth speaker he’s connected to is on. “Even with all the distancing, we probably didn’t need to park all the way back here.”

“I like it… Gives the illusion you rented out the place just for me, makes me feel special,” you joke. He giggles and kisses your shoulder.

The first movie of your double feature starts a few minutes later and you couldn’t possibly enjoy it more. The two of you trade jokes and snacks; it’s all just so comfortable and lovely, unfiltered and natural.

During the intermission, you decide to get out and stretch a bit before the second film starts. You notice that when you feel Ashton’s eyes poring over you as you bend and twist, you only feel pride and desire, none of the nervousness or timidity you’d felt a few weeks ago.

Once the movie starts, you sit and try to patiently wait and see if he’s going to make a move but by the time the opening credits are over, you can’t help but advance things yourself. You scoot closer but his eyes remain trained on the screen; you decide to more explicitly ask for his attention by nuzzling your face into his neck, pressing a few light kisses behind his ear, scratching his beard with your nails. “I’m having a good time,” you whisper, feeling him grin under your touch. “This was such a great idea, I’m happy you suggested it.”

He slinks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you like it,” he beams at you. “It’s fun to be out in the world again but also still pretty much alone.”

“Alone enough to do this,” you lilt, leaning in to plant your lips on his. Your kiss is gentle but urgent and he reciprocates your energy, cupping your face with one hand and using the other to press you against him, murmuring when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just when things start to get heated, one of you pulls back and warmly smiles at the other, as if you’re both excited for more but still wanting to appreciate what’s happening in this moment.

You don’t want to disrupt the makeout but you can’t fight the craving you have to feel more of him; you’re finally able to pull yourself away and you lay down on the bed, patting the spot next to you in what you hope is an alluring manner.

He moves closer and you close your eyes, ready to feel his touch. You’re startled to instead hear a grunt of frustration and the shifting of a leather seat. Your eyes snap open and you see him straining to reach into the front seat, trying to reach the keys in the ignition. You’re half a second away from asking what the hell he’s doing when you hear a distant beep and the hatchback slowly begins to close at the end of the cabin.

He plops himself on the pillow next to you. “Thought we could use a little more privacy,” he explains, grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to pull you closer. “Just in case someone else out there thinks the movie is as boring as we did.”

You start to giggle at his remark but your laughter is interrupted by his lips returning to yours. You both let your mouths and hands do as they please, exploring and enjoying without hesitation and without expectation. You’ve just peeled off his shirt and are sucking a mark at his collarbone when you feel his hand slip up your shirt to palm your breast. You give a light bite to his skin as his fingers pull at your nipple; he groans as you breathily tell him, “You can do it harder.”

A few dozen kisses later, his hand is sliding down your stomach and past the waistband of your shorts. You pull out of his kiss to whine quietly as his long fingers brush through your wetness, only touching your clit incidentally before adding light pressure.

“Good?” Ashton checks with a smile as your head lulls back and you grab onto him.

“Oh, you know… ‘s alright I guess,” you joke, your attempt at being casual undermined by the way you’re basically grinding into his hand. You let out a long moan and he quickly brings his mouth back down to yours in an attempt to silence it.

As his fingers and lips drive you wild, you find your own hands reaching for his pants and you sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock hard and ready for you. You run your fingers across the straining fabric, teasing him with one hand while the other works to loosen the drawstring.

You dip your hand inside and grip his cock, choking back a moan when you feel how much he’s already leaked for you. The slickness helps you easily begin stroking him and you shift so you can study his face, wanting to see evidence of the pleasure you’re giving him. As your thumb swipes over his tip and your fingers firmly squeeze his length, Ash’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, quietly muttering your name under his breath.

His fingers slip inside you and you gasp as pumps them in and out, dragging them against your walls, teasing your spot. It’s an intense moment when your eyes lock as his fingers work inside of you while yours glide up and down his cock, the two of you breathing heavy as you basically fuck each other without fucking.

“Ash…” You start, voice wavering.

“Yeah,” he answers in strained agreement. “Do you want --”

“Yes, yes I do. I brought --”

“So did I.”

You break apart from each other and reach for your belongings, chuckling as he pulls a handful of condoms from his backpack and tosses them onto the bed at the same time you pull some from your purse and add them to the pile.

“Well it’s good to know we’re both the kind of people who can learn from their mistakes,” he laughs, pulling you into a delighted kiss.

An exciting energy fills the car as you both shift around, getting yourselves situated. Ashton pulls back a layer of blankets from the seats in case you want to cover up and bursts out laughing when he turns around to see you’ve already stripped off your shorts and panties and are sitting there pantsless and unbothered.

“We’re parked in the back, there’s barely anyone here and the windows are fogged up,” you shrug, grinning.

You find yourself captivated as you watch him kick his pants off and get up on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before rolling a condom on. This is really happening. Finally, really happening.

“C’mere,” he breathes, reaching for you. You crawl to him and he cradles your face, kissing you softly. You nibble at his lip as you pull away and the two of you can’t stop smiling.

You climb into his lap, sitting on his legs, staring into his eyes. “Ready?” He asks you, sweetly rubbing your thighs.

You nod eagerly and lift yourself up to hover over his cock. He slicks the tip through your folds, stopping to tease over your clit a few times and then he’s watching your face as he presses against your entrance.

Your mouth drops open as you start to take him. He's so thick the stretch is instant, breathtaking and everything you've been dreaming of. His fingers gingerly brush over your hip, encouraging you as you ease him further inside you, rocking up and down until you're impossibly full.

Ash wraps his arms around you, kissing you deeply, hands in your hair then running down your back, then squeezing your ass. You feel completely surrounded by him and it’s overwhelming in the best way. You break the kiss to quickly peel your t-shirt off and then you’re reattaching your lips to his, pressing your chest against his, needing to feel as much of his skin on yours as you possibly can.

“Yes, baby, fuck” he murmurs as you slowly begin to move on his cock. “Feel so fuckin’ perfect… better than I’ve been imagining.”

You respond with a series of whimpers, so caught up in the feeling of finally having him in you. You move cautiously, almost torturously slow until you adjust to his size and then you pick up the pace, his hands firmly gripping your ass, helping you along.

You don’t even have the end goal of an orgasm in mind, you just can’t get enough of the new sensations his cock is making you feel. You shift from rocking to bouncing on him, moaning loudly each time his length hits a new place inside you.

“Ash… your cock feels so fucking good,” you pant, riding him with increasing speed, losing yourself in it. “Can’t believe you’re finally filling me up, baby… fuck.”

Your movements are bordering on frantic when you feel Ashton lightly squeeze your hips, attempting to still them, gently breathing your name. You slow down and look at him inquisitively. The mixture of amusement, desire and warmth painting his face is enough to make your pounding heart skip a beat.

“Can I?” He softly asks. You nod and he carefully pulls out of you and lays you back against the pillows before settling over you. He pecks over your neck and face as he guides himself back inside you. “Think we owe it to ourselves to slow down and live in this for a while.”

He starts to push up so he can get to work but you stop him, tucking his long hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his beard. “You’re right, just feels so good,” you grin. “Hard not to get carried away.”

Ashton kisses over your palm and begins leisurely moving his hips. He keeps a moderate pace, steady enough that you’re feeling consistent pleasure, feeling something building in your core, but not so hurried that you’re aching to reach the finish line. You hook your leg around his hip and when he pushes it slightly back towards you, he slides in deeper and his groan blends with yours to form possibly the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard.

“Jesus, baby… pussy’s takin’ me so well,” he praises, voice sounding more wrecked than you expected. “Such a pretty, giving pussy, baby… what a good girl.”

You shiver at his words, your hands running up and down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moves above you; you slide your hands down to grab his ass, pulling him closer, willing him even deeper. Ash reaches between your bodies to find your clit, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. The snap of his hips has become slightly quicker and you can tell by his breathing that he’s getting close.

“Ash… so good, yes,” you mumble, reaching down to direct his hand in the pattern you need. He mimics your movements expertly and you start rocking your hips along with him, feeling the stirrings of your climax. “Fuck, like that… god, please.”

“Yeah?” He pants, watching your body start to tense. He takes his free hand and reaches for yours, lacing your fingers, squeezing encouragingly. “Been waiting so long to feel you cum around my cock… come on, baby, cum.”

The first pulse of your orgasm hits you so forcefully you’re shocked he doesn’t react to how hard you squeeze his hand. By the time the next one hits, you’re crying out in senseless mutters from how heavenly this moment feels, how his thick cock couldn’t fit more perfectly inside you as you tighten around it. The sensations feel like they might echo forever as you start to come back down, Ash continuing to move gently in you, reassuring you in a soft voice about how incredible you feel around him.

You pull him down to kiss him breathlessly, satisfied from your orgasm but still hungry for his affection, still needing him on you. “Want you to cum for me, babe,” you whisper. “Let me know how much you love being buried in this pussy.”

Your words drive Ashton’s thrusts to become frenzied as he growls your name, followed by a raspy string of curses. He lets out a deep groan as he fills the condom, rocking into you deep and slow as he works through his climax. His head drops to burrow into your neck and you shiver at how his beard prickles your overstimulated skin. You stroke through his curls, lightly damp with sweat, and whisper in his ear, “So good, Ash… so fuckin’ good.”

He plants an exhausted but sweet kiss on you, only breaking it for you both to whine as he pulls out of you; he carefully ties off the condom while you reach for some of the leftover napkins from dinner to clean yourself up. You sort through each other’s clothes, the two of you grinning like fools the entire time you’re getting dressed.

Ash leans back against the pillows and sighs loudly, gesturing for you to come lay with him. You crawl toward him, making a small detour over the front seat to press the release on the hatchback again. You settle against him as the door opens, the cool night air filling the car again, the long forgotten movie still being projected in the distance.

“Worth the wait?” You tease, giving him a toothy smile.

He holds you tight to his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, baby… as much as we built it up, think we still might’ve undersold it. Like. Goddamn.”

You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “I’m glad we just kind of let it happen. That’s probably the best first time I’ve ever had. Definitely the most comfortable.”

“Same. Easy but still just… perfect,” he says dreamily.

You play with his fingers, chuckling, “I was so comfortable I almost asked you to cum on me until I remembered we were fucking in your friend’s car.”

“I mean, it was already questionable for us to have gotten fully naked in his car, we might as well have gone all out,” Ashton laughs loudly, squeezing your hand. “I think Cal had a suspicion this might happen, he left breath mints, condoms and Clorox wipes in the glove compartment.”

You cackle. “No blacklight, though?”

He pinches your leg and leans in to drown your laughter with a kiss. You gaze at him for a beat, marvelling at how normal everything feels for once. You notice he’s looking at you with a familiar fire in his eyes and you swear even though you were naked with him just a few minutes ago, you actually feel butterflies in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly and Ash smirks. “Was just thinkin’ it’s for the best anyways. The first time I cover you in cum I don’t want it to be in a dark backseat, I want to be able to see it.”

You quietly groan, a naughty glint in your eye to match his. You sit up and plant a heated kiss on him, pulling away to murmur, “Well. It’s still early… my place or yours?”

————-

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#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #Ashton irwin smut #Ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #Kindahoping4forever #kh4f fic #Ready For It?#smut #i literally cannot believe i am finally done with this lmao #thank you to anyone who has been holding out hope you would see this tension resolved #i hope i made the wait (for them and for you) worth it #Feedback is appreciated #Fr pls let me know what you think either via ask or your reblog tags #Reblogs are gold and reblogs with tags makes you yourself golden #idk what i'm saying formatting this took forever i really need to start writing shorter pieces or using less italics smh #love y'all thanks for reading

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twistedsin · 4 years ago

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Hi, is it possible to request for a nsfw crewel x student! Reader? ;_; the reader is being a tease and tries to flirt with him during class. Then both of them end of doing it after school in his classroom?Thank you for your time! >.<

ABSOLUTELY!! I really like this request, I am sincerely sorry it took me so long to finish it. I’m glad I finally got to write pet-play professor.

For the context of this fic, we’re going to say Night Raven is a newly co-ed school. Male students still outnumber females, but it is no longer gender exclusive.

Disclaimer: Teacher x student. Don’t fuck your teachers for extra credit in real life, that is not how you succeed.

“Now, what is the element with the hottest melting point?” Crewel pointed his baton your way, as your fingers perked up.

“Tungin” You answered, a small smirk on your lips. The rest of the class started laughing, but your professor was smarter than that.

“Tungsten,” Crewel corrected as the class quieted down, “It is quite a robust element. Incredibly hard.” His eyes connected with yours. “Only in its purest form can you make it putty in your hands.” Crewel turned away and returned to his lecture...

“Now for today’s mini-lab, you and your partner need to list the 15 elements in order of weight. Once you have them all correct you may leave.”

You paired up with the person next to you and tried to cooperate with them. There was much more you looking over at Crewel than actually helping with the worksheet.

Eventually you 'accidentally' tossed your pen from your hand in the direction of his desk. It hit the floor and rolled to one of the legs, the placement couldn't have been more perfect. "Oops... I'll be right back." You told your partner, who didn't seem to care since you weren't helping anyway.

Concealing your bright smile with a mischievous, you walked over to the professor’s desk, his attention turning to you. "Did you have a question?" He rose a brow looking you over.

"Nope, just needed to get my pencil. It rolled over here." You explain as you drop to your knees in front of him, taking your time to turn onto all fours, your ass up and wiggling as you felt around for your pencil. Divus shifted in his chair, seeming to be looking back at the papers rather than the curve of your ass barely covered by the short uniform skirt. If he leaned back a little, he'd probably be able to see your panties, or if you were wearing any.

Unfortunately, he did not, and gave you a disinterested response, "If you can't find it. I'll loan you a new one. You should get back to your assignment." A small pout formed on your face before you grabbed your pencil and stood. "Wait," He called out when you were a few steps away. You eagerly turned, "Yes, sir?"

"In class, it's Professor, not sir." Divus held out a paper to you, your last test with the results in red at the top. A 69/100, not great. "Your grades seem to be slipping and this attitude of yours, I think you may need a reminder of who's in charge. See me after school."

"Yes, professor." You squeaked out trying not to smile too much. Sure you were in trouble but seeing him after school meant that the two of you would be alone together. And that part about teaching you who was in charge, it was way too easy to find a hidden meaning in that. Now it was even harder to focus on the work at hand. Even through the rest of your classes, all you could think about what Divus was going to teach you later.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Professor?" You called out, entering the classroom before waiting for a response, "You wanted to see me?”

"What is the point of knocking, if you're not going to wait for an answer?" Divus sighed from behind his desk. "You may come in. Be sure to lock the door. I hate when students just think they can barge in." He watched, making sure you did what you were told. Once you had locked the door you obediently went over and stood in front of his desk.

"I made it a goal to be sure none of my pups had red marks this semester." He removed his glasses and moved the stack of paperwork into a drawer. "You are at risk of me breaking this promise, and I won't have it." He stood, and walked around the desk to stand in front of you. "You need more discipline."

"You think scolding me is going to make work harder?" I mean it might, depending on the type of punishment. "Maybe I want red marks." You wanted them more on your body than your report card though.

He was unamused at your response. "I've trained plenty of other litters, my methods have yet to fail. I've dealt with your type too. So, what is this new issue of yours that has you so distracted in class?" He took a step closer, leaving him right in front of you, "Or should I guess."

“Well... It’s just hard for me to focus on chemical reactions when my body always has such a strong reaction to you. It’s easy for my mind to wander to more reactive activities.”

A smirk crossed his lips, as he leaned in, “Like my tongue inside you?”

You shivered from his warm breath on your ear. You felt your lower regions pulse, thoughts of your little fantasy popping up in your mind. You needed a moment to regain your composure. “Tongue just happened to work with the element, I’m not opposed to any other part of you being in me either~”

“Quite a bold little puppy you are.” Crewel took a step back looking you over. “Since that's the issue let's try and see if you can focus on one of those activities,” He pointed the baton at his desk, “Sit.” You eagerly obey, taking a seat on the side edge of his desk.

He took off his coat and placed it on the coat stand before moving back to his desk. “If you still can't focus, or misbehave then this stops." He started sifting through the bottom left drawer. “Hold this.” He shut the drawer and stood holding a wrapped condom to your lips. You softly took the corner of the package in your mouth. “Don’t drop it.”

The order was a bit harder to follow than you thought as he almost teasingly slowly removed his tie and undid a few buttons on his shirt. He ran a hand through his hair before undoing his pants and pulling out his dick. You would have licked your lips if you could.

“You look hungry pet.” You spread your legs as his gloved hand ran up your thigh. He stepped closer, slowly grinding his erection against your wet panties. You let out a needy whine shifting your hips as a way to encourage him. Your core tightened just from the grinding, it just made you want him more. “You’re so excited, aren’t you? I wonder, how often have you masturbated to the idea of me fucking you in this classroom?”

You gave him a lustful look as he finally took the condom from your mouth. “Enough to have some expectations” You gave a coy smile but he simply responded with a smirk.

“I doubt those will hold up to the real thing.” Once the condom was on his hands trailed up your thighs. Your breathing grew heavy with lust at his teasing touch. The way he took his time was driving you crazy.

You narrowed your eyes at him, wanting to scold him to hurry it up, but he simply stared back a small upward curve at the corner of his mouth. His threat of stopping if you misbehaved floating through your head. There was no way you were going to risk this ending not when you were so close. His fingers finally caught the edges of your panties and pulled them off, a strand of your juices dragging out.

Crewel licked his lips, finally grabbing your hips and tugging you against him. “Let’s see if you meet my expectations.” He rubbed against you a few times before slowly pushing in, leaving you time to adjust. He wasn’t sure how experienced you were and didn’t want to push you too much. While the feeling was tight, and a bit painful with how active your insides had been it wasn’t too bad to adjust to. “Ah~ Y-you’re finally inside, Professor Crewel!" You gasped between your shaky moans. A smile formed on your face from looking down at how he stretched you. There was still so much left to fill you with and you couldn't wait.

His hand gripped your chin to look back up at him. "Wrong. It's Master or Master Crewel now. Do you understand pet?"

"Yes Master Crewel." It was easy enough to remember the name as you referred to him as such in most of your fantasies anyway.

His hand slid up your cheek to push some of your hair away from your face, "Good girl. I won't hesitate to drill the idea into you if you forget."

Now that you had had time to adjust and names were sorted, it was time to set things in motion. His thrusts were smooth and slow at first. Even with such little stimulation, your walls were pulsing around him, squeezing as if trying to pull him deeper. It made him want to go wild, but he of course had control and would wait patiently until you let him do so.

Your head tilted back, calling out his name. "Good pet. Just like that. I can tell you're enjoying yourself." He smirks, "Is it all your imagined? Or did you want it rougher?" He'd be happy to oblige his student's needs since they waited so long. It would be easier for them to focus if he fulfilled the fantasy correctly.

"More." Your voice was merely a whisper at first, rising as you knew mewling wasn't a satisfying answer for him. "I want to take all of you. I want you to move faster. Please, Master! Fuck me! I can take it, I need your cock!" You begged, feeling needy. You had let your thoughts of him been wandering for too long to not indulge yourself. You wanted him to fuck you so that you never needed another fantasy of him, just memories of this moment.

"Such a needy pet." His hips stilled, "Lay down." His hand rested on your back to ease you into laying down across the length of his desk. He pushed your legs up and open. One of his hand resting on one of your knees, the other on the table so he could lean over you, "Let's test how much you can take."

With this new positioning, he had more leverage, and now that he wasn't holding himself back as much anymore it was almost a whole different experience from when he first ented you. His whole cock was sliding in and out of you.

His thrusts are almost wild, nothing like the slow pace he had kept before. If he hadn't laid you back beforehand you would have fallen back on your own. His entire cock being pushed inside you now, it filled you up so nicely. With these deeper thrusts, his shaft brushed against your sweet spot from time to time. Your body clenched tightly around him each time, never wanting him to pull out yet wanting him to thrust even faster and deeper. He carefully watched your expressions as the pleasure overcame you. The way your eyes became hazy and that small smile as you gasped and groaned. Some words slipping out occasionally, mostly master, yes, and more.

"Such a good pet. You're already surpassing my expectations." Divus cooed, "Is this everything you thought about?"

"Y-yes!" You cried out between gasps. "It feels so good. So much better than a fantasy."

"Good. Then there is no reason to keep daydreaming in class then."

"Yes. No... I-" You couldn't focus on his questions right now, or what the right answer was. You just wanted to cum and enjoy the feeling of him thrusting into you. "I'm going to cum. Master please~"

You suddenly felt a sharp sting on your thigh as his gloved hand slapped your skin. "Answer me first pet. Are you going to focus in class?" His thrusts slowed to your dismay.

"Yes! I'll focus in class! I'll raise my grade I promise!" You called out a bit panicked and desperate for him to continue.

Divus chuckled a bit, enjoying your desperation. "I'm expecting good results then." His hips regained their rapid pace from before, "Now you can cum, pet." Now given permission and his thorough pace returned it didn't take long for your body to reach its peak and your orgasm to course through you. The way your body clenched and spasmed around him had him cumming soon after you. He rode out the pleasure high before finally stopping his thrusts and pulling out of you.

A pout accompanied by a small whine formed at the loss of his cock so soon, but you couldn't stay upset. He just looked way too sexy running his hand through his hair, leaning over you catching his breath. Divus gave a small smile as his eyes caught yours. "Good girl. You performed well."

He helped you to sit up on his desk then discarded the condom and began fixing his pants. "If you do well on the next test, I'll reward you just like this." Once he was situated, he let you rest your head against his chest while he fixed up your uniform. "If not then I'll have to find other ways to get you to behave."

You knew it was meant as a warning but it just excited you. "Yes, Master Crewel. I'll do my best."

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whatisthiswritingthing · 4 years ago

Text

Fake It Till You Make It - Rose Lavelle x Reader

Prompt: Hey. What about Reader & Rose, where R is basically Rose's best friend outside her soccer bubble. Sam and the other youngins were getting on Rose's nerves talking about her love life so that Rose in affect says that she's in a relationship so that they stop. Anyway, Rose is still single and Sam and the others want to meet her GF, so that she convinces R to pretend to be her GF. (Spoiler: Ending could be that they realise that they don't just pretend to be in love)

“Stupid, so stupid,” Rose muttered to herself, “please don’t answer, please don’t answer,” she kept mumbling to herself waiting for her call to connect to Y/N.

“Well hello to you too,” Y/N smirked when she connected the facetime call.

“Fuck,” Rose’s eyes went wide when she saw her best friend on the screen, blushing a little bit.

“Oh Rose, you say the sweetest things to me,” Y/N continued to smile at her friend.

“Y/N!” Rose exclaimed, almost surprised to see her.

“Rose!” Y/N mocked, the two sat and watched each other, Y/N grinning and Rose’s expression shifting to guilt, “you going to tell me why you called?”

“Oh, uhh, yea, I missed you?” the soccer player attempted

“Of course, you did, I’m awesome!” Y/N continued to smile at her friend, “but you and I both know that’s not the only reason you called me,” her tone softened.

“I kind of did something stupid,” she started hesitantly, eyes off the screen.

“This is my serious face,” Y/N stared back with a blank expression, “what did you do Rose?”

“Uhh everyone was bugging me about not being in a relationship for so long and I was tired of it, then Linds said something about maybe I’m just not telling them. And I wasn’t paying attention just kind of agreed, so now they think I’m seeing someone.”

“Alright? I don’t see the problem,” she looked at her friend.

“Well, the problem is, I was texting you and they asked for a name, so I said yours,” Rose bit her lip, tugging her sleeves over her hands and covered her face.

“Aww Rosey, you want to date me?” Y/N started teasing her again.

“Stop! It just slipped out.”

“I’m not easy Rose, I expect to be wined and dined, flowers, the whole thing,” she smirked, “and I definitely don’t kiss on the first date, maybe the second if you play your cards right,” she ended with a wink.

“Y/N, stop,” Rose begged, her cheeks completely pink.

“Alright, I’ll stop,” she softened again when she saw how flustered the brunette had gotten, “it’s all good if you drop my name when you need.”

“Yea…” she trailed off, “they kind of took your name and already creeped your insta.”

“No worries,” Y/N shrugged.

“But yes, worries Y/N,” Rose said exasperated, pulling her shirt collar over her mouth, “they think we are dating. They know who you are and want to know why they haven’t met you yet.”

“Rose, it’s all good, pretend for a bit, then you break my heart or whatever you need to get them off your back.

Rose nodded but wouldn’t look up.

“That’s not all is it Rosey?”

Rose shook her head, “they want to meet you. They couldn’t stop gushing about how hot you are and how cute we look together, so yea, they’re kind of expecting you to come to the game or supper or something this week.”

“Ahh now I see the worries,” Y/N nodded, smiling softly, “I kind of thought I was going to your game already, you gave me a ticket to sit with your family.”

“But now everyone wants to meet you, so you can’t just leave after and they will hunt you down if you do escape. Mal was ready to message you herself to make sure you were coming to the game.”

“Rose it’s all good, I’ll meet the team after the game. And I’ll be the best damn girlfriend you could want.”

“You don’t have to Y/N, I can tell them I fucked up and just said it to shut them up.”

“Really, Rose, it’s all good. I’m sure you do enough other stuff to get teased,” Y/N shrugged casually, giving her best friend a dopey smile.

“You’ll really come meet them?” Rose lowered her hands from her face slightly.

“Of course! How else will get some of the embarrassing stories they have?”

Rose had never dreaded the three long whistles more than she did that game. She knew Y/N was in the stands with her parents, which was fine, her parents loved Y/N and had know her for years, but now Y/N would be meeting the rest of her team. She could dodge it, say she had some crazy fan encounter or Y/N couldn’t make it, but she knew that would only delay it.

This is clearly payback for teasing all her friends for years, logically she knows its fair, that it her turn to be teased, but that doesn’t make it any better.

“Where is she Rosey?” Sonnett shook the brunette’s shoulders as they all cleared the field.

“She’s with my parents,” Rose grumbled, leading the blonde over towards the family section.

“Ahh come Rose, be more excited to see your girlfriend!” Lindsey joined the teasing, pulling her into a quick head lock.

“Trust me, I’m excited to see her, its you with her I’m not excited for,” she continued to scan the stands to find her family and current fake girlfriend, “at least try and behave while we are in public, I don’t need the whole world knowing about us.”

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Lavelle!” Sonnett pulled away when they got to the stands, her southern charm coming out, no hint of her teasing left, “you must be Y/N! Rose has told us so much about you,” she shot the midfielder a sly wink, reaching a hand up to shake Y/N’s hand.

“And look! You’ve met Y/N, time to go see your own families,” Rose gently nudged the blonde away.

“I’m Sam,” the tall blonde reached over Rose to shake Y/N’s hand as well

“Where did you even come from?” she turned around quickly, seeing a few other players approach them.

“Be nice Rose,” her mom began to chastise.

“Yea Rose, be nice,” Y/N winked at her, reaching down more to shake another hand, introducing herself.

Rose could feel her body blushing already, this was a terrible idea, she was regretting ever opening her mouth, she knew better than to not listen when her friends are all teasing her.

A few the players talked with her parents before continuing into the tunnel, her core group remaining, making small talk with Y/N and her parents. Y/N was seamlessly talking with the few that remained, including her parents and giving everyone their desired attention. Her mind continued on how much of a bad idea this was, it was hard enough keeping her feelings to herself as it was, but now watching how flawlessly Y/N interacted with her friends challenged her even more. This was such a bad idea.

The group continued to talk before a staff came to collect the players, ushering them away, Rose telling her parents she would call them after and meet them for dinner.

“Why’d you keep her hidden so long? She’s awesome!” Sonnett shook Rose’s shoulders again, “worried one of us would steal her from you?”

That was exactly what she was worried about. She knew Y/N would hit it off with everyone on the team, and with her inability to be open about her feelings, Y/N was bound to connect with someone on the team, someone that wasn’t her.

“You’ve seen her, and you’ve seen me, she clearly upgraded,” Rose did her best to sass back, hoping her face matched her tone.

“Sure she did,” Sam rolled her eyes, gently nudged the brunette.

“Did you see her arms? Those alone are an upgrade compared to you,” Lindsey teasing squeezed Rose’s bicep.

“And you wondered why I didn’t invite any of you to meet her,” Rose rolled her eyes at the trio, frustration beginning to leak out, “now you’ve met her, you can find something else to make fun of.”

“Still you,” Sonnett nodded.

“Tomorrow at lunch,” Lindsey added.

“After recovery,” Sam joined, tilting her head to the side, “weren’t you listening?”

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, “uhh guess I didn’t hear it.”

Rose now started at the ceiling, she had gone for supper with her parents, Y/N joining them, she was practically family at this point, had been for years really. And she loved watching how Y/N interacted with her parents, her sister, grandparents. She seamlessly fit them all, laughing at her dads bad jokes, her grandmas old stories she’s repeated multiple times, returned her sisters relentless teasing, she charmed her mom into letting her sneak bits while she cooked. Rose loved it all, she had hoped being away for soccer all the time, that distance would ease some of her feelings.

But it didn’t. They only seemed to grow. Every time Y/N would ask about soccer, let Rose rant about her injuries, lack of playing time with Manchester City, was easily the best friend she could ask for. For some reason though, the friends never talked about their relationships, so Rose had no idea how to navigate her feelings.

The entire time for recovery the next morning she was interrogated by everyone on the team about the secret girlfriend she had kept hidden from them all. Rose could easily answer them all, as much as she knew it was a fake relationship, it was nice to imagine that it was true, she could pretend for the day.

Y/N tentatively entered the restaurant she was meeting Rose and her friends for lunch, giving them all a smile when she saw them.

“I’d like to keep my lunch down, so if you could tamp down the disgustingness, that would be great,” Lindsey sassed, smirking over the lip of her coffee cup.

Rose blushed, and forced herself to look away from Y/N. She knew she had a dopey smile on her face as soon as she saw Y/N walk in, but she just couldn’t help it after spending the morning talking about her fake relationship with the woman.

“Hey guys,” Y/N greeted, waving slightly before pulling a chair out next to Rose, “hey babe,” she leaned over kissing Rose on the cheek, causing her to blush even deeper.

The group all laughed at how flustered the midfielder was. But quickly got over it, the waiter coming over to take their orders. Each taking turns to ask the newcomer the same questions they asked Rose, turning the conversation to embarrassing Rose stories as soon as they could.

“So picture this smooth human being,” Y/N sarcastically gestured to the brunette, “goes on an entire date, not knowing it was a date. Then had to awkwardly explain to the poor dude after that not only did she not know it was a date, but did not want to date him even if she did.”

The table burst out laughing, Rose shrinking in on herself, blushing again.

“How many dates-not-a-date, did you go on before they became real dates?”

The fake couple made eye contact, both thinking about their response, deliberating what the other might say.

Y/N bit her lip and looked at her plate, before looking shyly back at Rose, “too many,” looking back down, pushing some food around on her plate, “I don’t even know how many hints I had to drop, how much ass kissing to her family I did, but she never got it. I kind of gave up, was just going to be the best damn friend I could be. Then I got lucky,” she blushed, watching Rose as she kept talking, “she gave me the opportunity of a lifetime, invited me to a game, got to meet her friends. But, she’s worth the wait.”

Rose’s eyebrows shot up, Y/N telling her everything without saying the words. Y/N slid a hand to rest on Rose’s thigh. The pair made eye contact, neither knowing what to say, Y/N’s feelings were in the open, but Rose’s weren’t. And now Y/N felt incredibly exposed, the rest of the table didn’t know the truth behind her story, but Rose did, and she wasn’t saying anything.

“I’m not even surprised, that sounds exactly like Rose,” Sam chuckled across the table.

“I’ll catch up to you guys,” Rose stopped outside the door if the restaurant, motioning her friends to go ahead so she could talk to Y/N alone.

Y/N shuffled on the spot, nervous about Rose would have to say, she hadn’t said anything at her confession during lunch, “Rose I’m sorry, that was a little too honest, I should have just made up some kind of story.”

“Was it true?”

“Uhh yea,” Y/N nodded, “I get you probably don’t feel the same way, and that was why you weren’t engaging anything. That’s fine Rose, I accepted a long time ago I would just be your best friend.”

Y/N tried to show how sincere she was, staring at Rose.

Rose shook her head, “no, I’m an idiot,” she took a step forward, closing the distance. She wrapped both hands around Y/N’s cheek, firmly pulling her in for a kiss.

Y/N was shocked, not immediately responding, when she felt Rose begin to pull away, she curled her arm around Rose’s waist. The kiss escalated quickly, teeth clashing, both too excited, unable to slow them selves down.

“We’re in public!” Sonnett yelled at the couple.

They both pushed apart, taking a couple steps away from each other, both blushing and looking at their feet.

“Uhh I guess this means you feel the same?” Y/N shyly asked.

Rose nodded, “I just thought you were a really good friend.”

“I am, but I want to be more than your friend,” Y/N took a step forward, “I’m going to kiss you again, then I’m going to take you on a date.”

She waited for Rose to nod before stepping forward again, closing the distance and cupping the back of her neck.

This kiss was much softer, more controlled, both trying to convey how they felt. They pulled apart when they both couldn’t contain their smiles anymore.

“I really fucking like you,” Y/N rested her forehead against Rose’s

She giggled in return, “I really fucking like you too,” she tilted her head and kissed Y/N briefly again.

The group, unaware of the change in relationship, cat called from down the block.

They pulled apart, Rose taking steps towards the other soccer players, “I’ll call you.”

She took quick steps, kissing Y/N quickly again before running away to her friends.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #rose lavelle imagine #Rose lavelle x reader

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Shuu [VAMPIRE ENDING]

ー The scene starts in front of Karlheinz’ castle

Yui: ( His answer...? )

Shuu: Basically you’ll quietly let yourself get killed?

Karlheinz: ...No.

I will kill you.

Shuu: !?

Yui: Shuu-san!!

( Karlheinz-san’s hand is reaching towards Shuu-san...! Don’t tell me he’ll actuallyーー! )

Shuu: Kuh...!

Yui: ...!!

*STAB*

Shuu: ...

...You never change.

Yui: ...Shuu-san...?

Karlheinz: ...Hah...

Yui: ( ...!! There’s a knife stabbed inside Karlheinz-san’s chest...! )

Karlheinz: Kuh...

*Thud*

Shuu: Like you did just now...You see right through my plans, always making sure you’re one step ahead.

Expecting me to follow in your footsteps is unreasonable. I simply had no other choice but to give up.

Karlheinz: That is exactly.... how those standing at the very top must be. It is how, you will guide your people down the right path...

Next....I must guide you.

Shuu...In what lies ahead of you, you will surely be thrown into a state of disarray.

However, that is your...destiny. One which you could never escape, from the second you were born as my son...Your dark fate. (1)

However...You have already decided you will no longer run away, no? For the sake of those you wish to protect.

Shuu: ...Yeah.

Karlheinz: ...Perfect.

You have fully awakened as Adam. I shall give you my answer as well.

Shuu...You did more than a fine job trying to reach my level. And right now, you have even surpassed me.

You, who has learnt how to love and feel, should now possess powers much greater than my own.

Go ahead, my son. Take my head...

The head of none other than the King. I am sure it will be useful to you in many ways...

Shuu: ...Ugh...

...Yui, close your eyes. You don’t have to see this.

Yui: ...No, me tooーー

Shuu: It’s fine.

In return...Whenever I will recall this moment in the future, please quietly stand by my side.

Yui: ...

...Okay.

ー Yui closes her eyes

Karlheinz: I’m leaving everyone in your care...

*CHOP*

Yui: ...!?

( What is going on...!? This overwhelming forceーー... )

( I can’t...I can’t endure it... )

ー She collapses

*Thud*

Shuu: Yui!?

ー The scene shifts to the garden

Ayato: ーー Take a look at the sky...

Kanato: Is that enormous magical energy...Father...?

Laito: ...It’s Shuu.

Subaru: He actually killed him...?

Reiji: ...!

Laito: Isn’t this for the best? To us Vampires, death is a blessing.

I’m sure he yearned for it as well.

Ayato: So he finally took his final breath? Well...He lived for long enough.

Laito: You’re being awfully optimistic, Ayato-kun. The King of Vampires just died, you know? Furthermore, the Vibora are without a leader right now as well.

Kanato: I can only imagine chaos will break loose in the Demon World. I’m sure there will be many wars as well.

Subaru: You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me...As if this place isn’t enough of a hellhole already...

Reiji: ...

Ayato: Oi, Reiji. Whatcha gonna do?

Reiji: ...Let us go meet Shuu.

There are a hundred and one things...I want to ask him, and say to him.

Laito: Let’s go pay our dear older brother a visit then.

Subaru: Cut it out, you’re makin’ me gag!

Reiji: ...Father...

*TIMESKIP*

Shuu: ーー Oi, Yui.

Yui: ...

ー Yui wakes up near the castle

Yui: ...Shuu...san...?

Shuu: ...You’ve regained consciousness, huh?

Yui: I...

Shuu: You had fainted. I assume from the magic energy.

Yui: Magic energy...?

Shuu: ...When the Old Man died, his power was let loose. You witnessed that right before your eyes.

His magic energy was the strongest of anyone in the Demon World. I guess a human simply couldn’t endure it. ...Are you okay?

Yui: Yes...

...How about you, are you alright?

Shuu: ...

...To be honest, I’m not quite sure myself yet.

Part of me regrets killing him, but at the same time, I also feel somewhat relieved.

Yui: ...Do you believe you made the wrong choice?

Shuu: I don’t know that either.

I never thought of him in terms of ‘like’ or ‘hate’ but...

Right now, I understand very well that my Father has always been an impactful figure in my life.

All in all, I might have actually viewed him as my family. For some reason, I feel as if I’ve lost a part of me...

Yui: Shuu-san...

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ehーー...?

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ririe!?

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ririe...!

Shuu: ...He was alive?

I figured he had died because we gave him that name but...I guess you weren’t that weak after all.

...Come here.

*Meoooow*

Shuu: Even when something is lost...Life goes on. That might be the true meaning of a family.

Haah...My list of things to protect just keeps on growing.

Yui: ...Will you protect us? Both me and Ririe?

Shuu: You’re still asking that now? Isn’t that what it means to be a family?

...I’ve made up my resolve. I will take responsibility. I will go head-to-head with my own destiny.

Yui: Shuu-san...

Ayato: ーー Oi, there they are!

Yui: You guys...! Is everything okay now?

Ayato: In what world? My whole body hurts like hell!

Laito: But I’m glad to see you safe as well, Bitch-chan.

Kanato: That being said...Where did that cat come from?

*Meoooow*

Yui: Ah...Ririe, you can’t! Come here.

Subaru: Ririe...?

Shuu: ...Shut it, you guys.

Where’s Reiji?

Reiji: I am present, right here.

ー Reiji walks up to him

Reiji: ...Shuu. Do you remember what I told you?

Shuu: The part about not forgiving me if I were to kill the Old Man?

Reiji: ...So you did kill Father after all.

Shuu: Yeah.

Reiji: Did he have...any final words?

Shuu: He asked me to take good care of all of you.

That isn’t what brought forth this decision but...I’ll be playing his role from here on out.

Reiji: ...!

Kanato: You’ll ascend the throne?

Ayato: A sloth like yourself? ...For real?

Reiji: Are you saying...You will become the Vampire King?

Shuu: That’s what it’ll boil down to. The late King has died.

From here on out, I will lead the Clan of Vampires as their new King.

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

Shuu: The Demon World is in disarray ever since what happened to the Vibora. Once the news of the Vampire King’s death hits the masses, it’ll only get worse.

After losing their leader, the Vibora were swiftly conquered by the Founders and lost their clan’s pride.

I can’t let the Vampires go down that same path. I won’t allow for that to happen.

I can’t let those guys...run loose forever.

Even if my struggle is in vain, I will fight till the bitter end.

We haven’t seen the last of this yet...

Ayato: ...But can you pull that off though? Us Vampires are already running low in numbers after the recent attack.

Shuu: Of course, I don’t believe I can fix this all by myself.

I’ll obviously rely on you guys’ help as well. I won’t take no as an answer. As members of this family, you’ll follow my lead.

Laito: Good grief...Seems like we got ourselves another tyrant on our hands.

Shuu: Reiji. You’ll be my right-hand man. Lend me your strength as the second son of the Sakamaki household. Understood?

Reiji: ...

...I did not fathom a day would come on which I get to hear such a clear order from you.

Very well. For the sake of our family, and our clan, I shall do everything within my ability.

Yui: ( Reiji-san... )

Shuu: First we must retroop our people. Then we can move on to uniting them.

Reiji: You make it sound so easy.

Shuu: Of course, I don’t believe it’ll be a breeze. Therefore, first upーー Yui.

Yui: Eh? Yes?

( I wonder what he’s going to say? He’s staring right into my eyes... )

Shuu: I’ll marry her.

Yui: ...Eh?

Ayato: Hah?

Kanato: ...What are you saying?

Shuu: That’ll increase my prestige, no?

Subaru: You’re marryin’ her over that reason!? Don’t you feel bad for her!?

Shuu: Haah...Ridiculous. You really think I would go through all the trouble just for that?

I’m obviously marrying her out of love.

Yui: ...Shuu-san!?

Laito: Haah...I didn’t think I would hear those words come from Shuu’s mouth one day.

Kanato: Seems like he won’t even bother listening to Yui-san’s reply.

Shuu: Because I don’t need to. ...Right, Yui?

Yui: ...No fair...

Shuu: You’ve been stuck in this destiny with me since forever. You can no longer escape.

So you should make up your resolve as well.

Reiji: Haah...You decide such an important thing on the spot. I fear for the future...

Well, I suppose it is fine. Right now, we have something to celebrate first.

The birth of a New King, and his spouseーー

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ...I didn’t think I would one day get married in the Demon World.

Shuu: Really? I anticipated this.

I told you, didn’t I? That I was aware this moment would come one day.

You were naturally there as part of that imagination as well.

Yui: I...How should I know without you telling me?

Shuu: I’m not the type of guy who expresses himself with words. I’m pretty sure I told you that before as well?

Yui: Gosh...

*Meooow*

Yui: Ririe. Did you wake up?

*Meooow*

Yui: Fufu, come here.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“What? You think I look lovely in these clothes because it’s so different from my usual attire? ...Haha. Dare I say you don’t look half bad either?”

“I’ve had let alone time with you ever since this little guy came along. ...However, from here on out, you’ll always be only mine.”

Shuu: ...Don’t you think you spoil him a little bit too much?

Yui: You think so? Not as much as with you though...

Shuu: What do you mean?

Yui: I think I spoil you much more than I do Ririe.

Shuu: ...Hah, you tell me.

*Rustle*

Shuu: In that case, make it a little more obvious.

You always claim you don’t understand me but...Your behavior is confusing as well.

Yui: I-Is it...?

( I always thought I was pretty straight-forward...I wonder if that didn’t quite convey to him...? )

Shuu: Don’t look so anxious. ...It properly got through to me.

Yui: Ah...

*Meooow*

Shuu: You’ve made it more than clear that you love me ...Nn...

Yui: Nn...

Shuu: Nn...Haah...

Shuu: Haha...Now you are one of us as well.

Yui: Am I?

Shuu: Even if your body is human, you’ll marry the Vampire King, so I’m sure that will happen.

The King’s spouse is a human, huh? Well, I don’t think that’s such a bad thing?

...Yui.

Yui: Yes?

Shuu: Chaos still washes over the Demon World to this day. I can only imagine the war will get intense.

Yui: ...Yes.

Shuu: As long as you stand by my side like this, you will surely get involved with this dark fate as well.

That must be rough as a woman, and a human on top of that. I can understand why you would rather turn a blind eye to it.

Yui: ...I’m prepared.

I’ve always stuck by your side, well aware that this would happen.

Shuu: Heh...I guess I worried for nothing.

Well, not that I was going to let you go either way.

Father was right. I...lose all meaning in life when you’re not with me.

Stay with me until death. I’ll protect you till that day.

Become my new family, and live by my side.

Yui: ...Yes.

Shuu: Then kiss me.

Yui: ...Where did that come from!?

Shuu: Just words aren’t enough. Promise it with your body as well. Come on...

Yui: Nn...

*Smooch*

Shuu: Hah...I really like this way much better than just mere words.

*Meooow*

Shuu: ...Don’t interfere. She belongs to me.

Yui: Oh come on, don’t compete with a cat.

Shuu: I guess every time we welcome a new member to our family, I’ll have to reconfirm that you’re mine.

Haah...I fear for the future. Having a family really is a drag after all.

Well, I guess I can live with it if they’re directly descended from you.

Yui: ( Does he mean...? )

Shuu: From here on out, I’ll protect both you and my family with my own two hands.

To live alongside my precious family, and the woman I love...

Yui: ...Yes.

Shuu: ...We still haven’t said it, huh?

Yui: What exactly?

Shuu: The oath to become a family.

Komori Yui. I...love you.

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Karlheinz drops this term in the general prologue as well. He says 闇の運命 or ‘yami no sadame’ which means ‘the law of the dark’. However, ‘sadame’ is written with the characters for ‘unmei’, which means ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’ instead of 定め.

Within the DL franchise, ‘the dark’ is often used as a synonym for demons/those who live in the Demon World. For example, in HDB, the boys will often call themselves ‘yami no juumin’ or ‘residents of the dark’. Personally, I believe he implies that all Demons are born with a set path in life already drawn out for them and in Shuu’s case, it was his destiny to one day become Adam, kill his Father to inherit his powers and become the next Demon King.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfshuuending1

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