#if i'm feeling up to it i'll come back to revise this and make it a bit more detailed ...

[phyriaxi]

Can I request a Mostima corset to go with the Fia one?

Or a Spuria since she just came out and I saw you put up a previous Mostima recently

Also thank you for doing these requests! I love your work :D

perhaps i'll make this an illustration series~~ it's a lot of fun!!

[ thank you for the request! ]

[conchcronch]

Kinktober 2024: Day 5

WC: 2700

Summary: He's overworked and desperately needs you to help him, too bad he's got a mountain of work to get through before the day is done.

A/N: I'm not all that thrilled with this piece tbh, likely I'll come back to revise it post kinktober, but let me know what you think! I've been lovingly calling this part 'Croc-Warming'

You were so tired of wandering the barren walls of Crocodile’s ship, convinced you had memorized every wood grain of every board that made up this boat. By the fourth pass by his office door this evening you thought maybe this was your chance. 

For days you had been begging for him, every moment you had in private you were running your hands along him, trying to press up against him, anything to try to draw him in. But nothing would work. His excuse of being overworked and exhausted had been reasonable, he was at Cross Guild meetings every day, coming home and shutting himself in his office until the wee hours of the morning, but it had been so long since you had touched him you were sure he was craving it at least half as much as you were. 

The heavy office door made such a pleasing sound when you tapped your knuckles against the door, pausing for a second before hearing his low voice beckon you in. “Hi” You poked your head in, watching him look up just enough to see you before looking back down at the weighty document that sat in front of him. 

“If you’ve come to whine about when I’m going to fuck you, I can make it quick. I have about 200 pages of some agreement the clown insists is a ‘bonafide’ venture for us to pursue, so I have no time for you.” You tried to not let the last part cut too deep, knowing he was overextended and hadn’t been sleeping much. But if you could just convince him somehow, you knew for a fact he would feel so much better. 

“Can I help?” You tried to keep your toe soft, stepping past the threshold of his office and closing the door behind you. The wood was cold on the bottoms of your feet, your fluffy socks doing little against the frosty waters cooling the bowels of the ship. He looked up at you, fully, pausing to pull his cigar from between his teeth as he racked his eyes over you. You had intentionally come down in a nightgown he had bought you, the deep purple fabric hugging you in all his favourite ways. ”I could make you a coffee if you wanted, to help you stay awake.” You stepped closer to him, even going around his desk when he didn’t immediately stop you. “But that might make falling asleep even harder for you.” He hummed, his cigar back between his teeth as he lowered his gaze back to the legal document in front of him. You stepped behind him, thankful for how low he kept his desk chair so you were able to reach his shoulders. “Is this okay?” You asked, leaning forward so he could feel your warm breath puff out over his ear. 

“Yeah” You silently began working the tension out of his shoulders, your fingers struggling to push deep enough into his tissue to make much of a difference but when you heard him groan you knew you were somehow helping. Slowly you worked your fingers up to his neck, digging your fingers into his dense muscle, rubbing circles with your thumbs on his bare skin. “Why do I feel like you have ulterior motives for doing this?” You could feel the vibrations of his voice in your fingers as you moved them back down to his shoulders. 

“If by ulterior motives you mean, I want to help you relax, then yes Sir you bet I do.” He grumbled at your use of the title, loving the way it sounded in your mouth. 

“Were you always so sly?” He asked, taking his cigar out of his mouth and leaning his head back so he could look up at you. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, moving your hands to comb through his slicked back locks, the gel beginning to break down and leave behind his well taken care of hair. He closed his eyes, sighing as you pressed kisses along his hairline. “I’ve missed you.” He hummed, which was the closest thing you’d get to him saying he had missed you. 

“To be clear, your advances haven’t gone unnoticed.” You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips that were pressed to his forehead. “But I know if we start, there’s no chance my work is getting done.” 

“You’ve been working 12 hour days for the last month, I think you can spare an hour or two for some self care.” He sighed like the weight of the seas rested solely on his shoulders.

“You have no idea how untrue that is.” You felt him begin to fidget, slowly pulling his head up which was your que to move away. “I’m sorry kitten” He reached around and grabbed your hand in his, tugging you to his side so he could see you, his eyes scanning over you as he chewed the tip of his cigar “and you look so pretty for me” you nodded, looked up at him through your lashes. He moved his large hand from your wrist to your body, running from your stomach up to your breast, thumbing your nipple through the thin material before dragging it up your neck, cupping your cheek in his hand. “I wish I didn’t have to work..” There was a sadness in his eyes, something you hadn’t ever seen there before. It was different from your moments of intimacy, where he looked at you with what you can only assume is love, this felt like remorse, remorse for having to choose work over you. 

“It’s okay,” You pressed your face into his palm, holding onto his forearm with both hands as you savoured this moment of quiet contact because you weren’t sure when you would next get to experience it. “I’ll leave you to it then.” Kissing his palm before guiding his hand away from your face as you stepped away from his desk, “Try to get at least a little bit of sleep.” You looked back at him as you paused at the door, noticing the way he opened his mouth for a second like he was about to say something, giving him time to decide. 

“You can stay…If you want.” 

“You don’t mind?” He looked down at the papers in front of him

“I don’t.” It was late but you weren’t about to turn down the only invite you’ve gotten from him in who knows how long. You walked over to the elaborate couch he had opposite his desk, taking up your spot in the corner and watching as he worked. 

After a few quiet moments of you watching him, you couldn’t help but shoot your shot. “Y’know,” You paused, waiting until his eyes met yours, an eyebrow quirking when he saw the look in your eyes. “If all you’re doing is reading, you could read over here.” You patted the crushed velvet cushion next to you. 

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to get much reading done if I accept?” Despite the question that went answered, he pushed himself up, gathered the papers and walked over to the couch. He sat down, next to you, his hooked arm over the back of the couch, resting the stack of paper on his knee. 

Everything about his proximity was driving you crazy, his cologne, the smell of his hair gel and watching his ringed fingers turn page after page. As you chewed the inside of your lip you scooted closer to him, leaving against the side of his chest and bringing your legs up against the soft fabric. At first you had started reading the words strewn across the pages, trying to follow the legal jargon being used but when you felt his arm wrap around you, holding you tightly against him you were reminded of the yearning between your legs. 

Very slowly you ran a hand across his chest in what you hoped appeared to be a soothing gesture, rather than that of longing. But he knew you too well to assume your touch was anything other than a pleading gesture, but despite that, he didn’t stop you. Your hand moved across his wide chest, following the lines of his muscles as you slipped lower down his stomach but stopping at the hem of his vest. Every part of your brain was screaming at you to go lower, to slip your hand beneath the waist of his dress pants, to run your hand along his cock. And gods you wanted to, you’re confident you had never wanted something so badly before in your life, but you forced yourself to abstain, knowing the Guild had become something very important to him and you didn’t want to get in the way of that. “I wouldn’t stop you.” His words came out so casually, a puff of sweet cigar smoke flowing from his mouth and down over the papers. 

“You wouldn’t?” You moved so you could look up at him, watching as his lilac eyes scanned line after line not stopping to meet your gaze.

”As long as I can still read, I won't stop you.” As if a gun had just been shot, you jumped to your knees, hands on his chest to support you as you moved to straddle his wide waist. He moved his head from side to side as you positioned yourself, your fingers working quickly to undo his belt, then his button, then his zipper. His underwear sat low on his hips, a dark treasure trail leading down past the fabric, beckoning you to follow it. ”Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so determined.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, finally watching you pull the waist of his boxers up enough that you could fish out his cock.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was half hard, the moment he had sat on this couch he knew where the night was going. He knew you were completely unable to resist him when he was so near, knowing the moment you leaned against him that he had you right where he wanted you. 

When you finally pried him from his pants, he let out a long low groan, missing the feeling of your hands wrapped around his cock. He tried his best to focus on the pages, and when your hands left him he thought he may be out of the woods. That is, until he saw you hiking your dress up over your hips, exposing your bare cunt to him. 

He opened his mouth to protest, but when you raised yourself up onto your knees and rubbed his swollen head against your soaked entrance he couldn’t stop the long moan he was too slow to smother. 

“I knew you m-missed me.” You sighed, rubbing him between your folds enjoying the way he was struggling to hold the pages steady behind you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He huffed out, the words barely slipping from between his clenched teeth. 

“I’m ah I’m keeping your cock warmmm.” You slowly lowered yourself down, his cock head pushing past your ring muscle with the sting of stretch. 

“Fuck you’re too tight.” He pinched his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. 

“It’s fine I’m s-stretched.” It was taking every ounce of your self control to not sit straight down on his cock but you knew it would be too much. “Just lemme get it all in then I’ll stop b-othering you.” Piecing your sentence together was a struggle, the feeling of his length stretching you more than your fingers ever could was causing your brain to blank. 

When you finally sat against him, his cock nestled between your tight walls you laid against his chest, a shaky sign leaving your body. “You settled now?” You nodded, one hand feeling your lower stomach, half expecting to feel him bulging out of you. 

The sound of his heartbeat steadying as you leaned your head against his chest lulled you into a sleep you didn’t even realize you needed. His hooked arm wrapping around your waist to keep you against him while his hand flipped page after page. 

You didn’t know how long you had been asleep but you awoke to the sound of a heavy stack of papers falling on the ground, his hand rubbing down your back slowly. “Fuck kitten.” He groaned quietly into your hair, his lips moving against your head as he raised his hips to push himself somehow deeper. “You’re so good at keeping my cock nice and warm.” You blinked sleepily, looking up at him through heavy lashes. 

“Are you all done?” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Think you can get up on those knees of yours and ride me?” You pressed your hands to his chest, supporting yourself against him as you pushed your body up onto your knees, his cock sliding out of your hole. “Take it real slow kitten, I won’t last long as it is.” 

His eyes were focused down at your cunt, watching it sink down on his cock. The curved side of his hook ran down your back, pressing into the small of your back and making you arch into him. “Touch yourself.” He leaned back, his hips bucking up as he relaxed into the couch. He loved watching you do all the work, his eyes following your hand as it slid down your stomach, your fingers slipping down until your clit was between your index and middle fingers. You moved them slowly, rubbing along either side of the sensitive bud as you rode him. “How’s it feel?” 

You nodded, furrowing your brows as you pinched your eyes closed in an attempt to put together a coherent sentence. “It feels…fuck it feels as good as the first time.” His hand moved from your hip to your cheek, drawing you into a kiss. It felt like it had been years since he had kissed you like this, tongue sliding along yours as he groaned into your mouth. “Croc” you whispered as he swallowed your words “Will you cum inside me?” He didn’t answer right away, just smiled against your lips. 

“Only if you cum first.” You nodded, his lips overtaking your own again, ending any further conversation. The combination of your fingers moving against your clit, his tongue entertaining with your own and his cock bullying its way against your cervix, it didn’t take long for you to clench around him as the crashing wave of orgasm overtook you. 

Your legs tensed, slamming you down and taking him as deep as he could go. Your walls quivered around him, ushering him to his own climax. The air was knocked from his lungs, the pleasure overtaking his body entirely as he filled you with his cum. The feeling of warmth flooded you, and just when you thought you could never feel more full then you did, he just kept going. His hips thrusted up into you, each thrust weaker than the last until they slowed and you could lay limply against him. 

“Fuck” was the only word he could produce, all others seems too far away. He rubbed his hand along your back, not minding the thin layer of sweat that had gathered on any exposed skin. “Kitten, let’s get you up.” He leaned forward, speaking directly in your ear. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“I’m not ready to move yet.” Your voice was raspy, clearly you had been louder than you realized. 

 “I want to get you cleaned up before bed.” Your eyelids feel heavy and the stiffness in your hips was beginning to morph into a pain. “I’ll run us a bath and then we can get some sleep.” A bath sounded so nice, you wanted to tell him how badly you wanted that, but words were just out of reach. 

“You’re…you’re going to come to bed tonight?” Slowly he lifted you off his cock, shifting you to being carried bridal style as he walked through the halls you had spent so much time pacing through, waiting for him to finally let you in. 

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice  carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds part 2

The GIFs are not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : After the ‘incident’ on the gym with Bucky, now you had left with some unanswered questions about your relationship with him. You decided to confront him about it.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

General tags : Slight smut and pure angst

TW: Strong language, Masturbation (f), Hurt, Heavy angst, Bucky an asshole

Word Count: 7k

A/N : Hey there! Guess who's back? This is the long-awaited Part 2. My apologies for the delay; I've revised the plot about three times to ensure its genuinely angsty. It's about to get tougher before it gets better! Get ready for the emotional rollercoaster!

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 2 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then, your heart skipped a beat as the doorknob turned.

The person outside attempted to open the door, but they couldn’t. Relief flooded you, thank God Bucky had locked the door. "Is someone in here? You know you can’t lock the door," the voice outside the room chastised, followed by insistent knocks.

"Fuck." Bucky muttered, frustration etched on his face. "Who's interrupting us now?" He released you from his embrace, standing up abruptly. "We need to leave." His hand found yours, offering support as he helped you to your feet.

Your legs felt wobbly, but Bucky steadied you as he handed over your clothes. "Here," he said, helping you slip into them. "Put these on."

Bucky was about to pulled up his pants, when he saw your panties in his hand. A mischievous smile formed on his lips. "Hold still."

Confused, you questioned, "What are you doing?"

He playfully stuffed your panties into his pocket. "I'm keeping these as a little souvenir."

"You can't just take those!" you protested, your face flushing with embarrassment.

Bucky simply shrugged, his expression unapologetic. "Sure, I can," he said, enjoying the playful banter despite the urgency of the situation.

Before you could retort, the voice from outside grew more impatient. "Hey! I can hear you in there. I'm coming in if you don't answer me," it warned, the threat clear in its tone.

Bucky's expression changed, growing serious as the sound of keys jiggling reached his ears. With a swift nod, you both understood it was time to make your escape.

"We have to go. Now." He said, ushering you towards the other exit, his arm protectively wrapping around you. "Just keep quiet."

You finished putting your clothes back on. Bucky held onto you as he walked across the room, looking for your shoes. You were about to put on your shoes, when you heard the same person call out. You could hear he was picking keys to opened the door.  

Bucky glanced over at the door. "He’s going see us. We should go."

But you halted his hasty retreat, pulling him back toward you. "Bucky, wait," you said, you blushed. "I don't think I can walk." You admitted.

He grinned, a look of pure male satisfaction on his face. "Here hop on," he turned his back to you. "I'll give you a piggyback ride."

"What? No, that's embarrassing." you protested, even though you really did need help walking.  You felt stupid for feeling so excited, but the thought of being carried by him, made your stomach flutter.

Bucky was persistent. "C'mon, I’ll carry you." he motioned for you to climb onto his back.

"Bucky... I don’t know...," You argued, blushing as you looked down at the ground.

"Oh, please." Bucky scoffed. "I can bench press 500 pounds without breaking a sweat. You weigh nothing to me." He reassured you, his arms outstretched as he bent down.

"Fine," you gave in. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hopped onto his back. Bucky hoisted you up, wrapping his hands underneath your thighs.  "This is kind of weird."

"You better hold on tight." He grabbed your shoes with him and went to the back door. "Ready?"

“Yeah.” You tightened your arms around him.

Then you remember, "Wait! I haven't got my phone. It's still on the floor." You protested.

Bucky groaned in exasperation. "You know, that's what's going to get us caught."

"Yes, but then they’ll know it was me in here. Turn around and grab my phone.” You ordered him. He did as you told him even though he wasn’t happy about it, gabbing your phone from the floor.

Bucky started walking towards the door. The sound of keys were being turned, it looked like he found the key. "Hurry, Buck!" You said to him.

"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."

He pushed the door open and stepped out. You had made it halfway through the alleyway when you saw someone coming. "Shit, run."

Bucky bolted down the alley, with you holding onto him. You both were safe until you reached the elevator, and then you could relax. Once you inside the elevator, Bucky kept you perched on his back. He refused to let you go until the doors closed.

Are we good now?" you asked, your voice still tinged with the adrenaline from the escape.

"Yes," Bucky answered. "We're good now."

"You can put me down now, Bucky." You suggested.

"You sure?" He looked back at you. "You're not as heavy as I thought." 

"Gee, thanks," you muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly as he carefully lowered you to the ground. You reached up and felt how your hair had become all tangled. Your lips were swollen from his kisses. And you couldn't even begin to imagine what your eyes looked like.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, a weary smile gracing your lips as you recalled the unconventional piggyback escape.

"Anytime, doll," Bucky responded with a hint of amusement, his relief palpable.

You smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair. You leaned against the wall, catching your breath.

"Hey," Bucky said, his voice softening as he placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?"

You offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." However, curiosity crept into your voice, "But earlier, when we were... interrupted. Who was it?"

Bucky hesitated before admitting, "No one, I was just messing with you."

A wave of relief washed over you upon hearing his words. You  stood next to each other, neither one of you saying a word. The air between you was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. You were glad you had finally slept with him. You had wanted it for a while now, but he was so hard to read.

You wondered what happened now. Would things be awkward between the two of you? Would he pretend like nothing happened?

You were about to break the silence when the elevator door slid open, interrupting your thoughts.

"After you," Bucky said, offering a gallant gesture, indicating for you to exit first.

"Thank you," you replied, stepping out of the elevator. Bucky followed you, and you both began your walk down the corridor in the direction of your room.

In the midst of the silence, Bucky took a deep breath, as if mustering the words he wanted to say. "Listen, Y/N."

You turned to him. "Yes?" you responded, ready for the conversation you knew was coming.

However, as Bucky was about to speak, Steve entered the compound, heading down the same hallway toward both of you. A twinge of frustration shot through you as you silently cursed Steve for his untimely intrusion, just when the conversation appeared ready to take a more serious turn.

You couldn't help but wonder, 'What is he doing here?' as your irritation simmered beneath the surface.

"Y/N, about—" Bucky started again, his words cut off as you held up a hand.

"Hold that thought," you interrupted him, your gaze fixated down the hall where Steve was approaching.

"What's wrong?"

"Steve's coming," you replied, your irritation evident. The interruption was untimely, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the universe's sense of timing.

Bucky followed your gaze, and his face fell as soon as he saw his friend. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

You both watched as Steve drew nearer, his pace slowing down as he approached you and Bucky. "Hi, Buck," Steve greeted his friend, patting him on the shoulder. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he glanced over at you, then back at Bucky. “I thought you left hours ago."

"I did, but I had some stuff to take care of," Bucky replied swiftly, his expression unreadable. You sensed an immediate shift in Bucky's demeanor, a return to his cold, distant self in the presence of his friend.

You were about to question Steve's unexpected presence, considering he was supposed to be on a mission with the rest of the team. However, Bucky voiced the query before you could. "Has the mission ended? Where’s everyone?"

Steve nodded, his expression serious. "It hasn't, but I had to drop something off, and I'll be heading out again soon," he explained. "Mostly things had been wrapped up, just one last loose end."

"Alright, good to hear," Bucky said, acknowledging the update.

Steve's brows knitted together, his lips curving into a frown. "You look a little disheveled. What were you doing?" he asked, his suspicion evident in his tone.

"We were training," you chimed in, your voice steady, a lie slipping from your lips without hesitation. The lie rolled off your tongue with ease, and technically, it wasn't entirely false – you and Bucky had indeed been ‘sparring’ earlier.

"Oh, I see." Steve nodded, seeming satisfied with your explanation. "I'm glad you're getting some one-on-one time.”

"It was a pretty intense session," Bucky replied, his tone flat, his eyes avoiding Steve's scrutinizing gaze. You couldn't help but conceal a smile; indeed, it had been an incredibly intense workout, but not in the way Steve was imagining.

Steve raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Well, alright. As long as it was a good workout," he said, his tone carrying a hint of suspicion, although he ultimately seemed to dismiss his concerns, not pressing further.

Steve then turned his attention to you, his expression laden with guilt. "Y/N, about the mission..." He hesitated, clearly burdened by a sense of responsibility, though you knew all too well there was nothing he could have done differently.

Your patience wore thin, not this again, you thought, feeling your mood sour. "It's okay, Steve," you said, your tone carrying a hint of annoyance. "I know it wasn't your fault."

Steve managed a smile, though the unease lingered in his eyes. "Thanks, but I still feel responsible."

"Drop it, Steve. It really wasn't your fault," you insisted, your tone firm.

Sensing the conversation wasn't going anywhere productive, you decided to retreat to your room, especially now that Bucky seemed to have reverted to his usual self and showed no intention of continuing the discussion you'd been having.

"Well, I guess I should get going. See ya later," you said, offering a half-hearted wave before making your exit. As you walked away, a sense of disappointment settled in your chest.

You could barely walk, your thighs aching as you began to walked away. Unbeknownst to you, Steve's eyes followed your limping form, "What the hell happened to her?" he wondered aloud, his concern evident. You blushed deeply, hastening your pace in an attempt to avoid further scrutiny.

Overhearing Steve's question, Bucky replied, his tone nonchalant, "Don't know."

Once you made it to your room, you sighed in relief as you closed the door behind you. You flopped down on the bed, burying your face in the pillow.

"I can't believe we just had sex in the gym," you mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of the pillow. Replaying the events in your head, you couldn't help but wonder about Bucky's behavior. "Why does he act differently around the team and then like this with me? What's his problem? Does he want me, or does he not want to be seen with me? Is he ashamed of me?"

You're worried that the whole "fuck and don't talk" thing is going to be the new thing. You couldn't help but wish it wouldn't happened in the future. It was great sex, but it would be even greater if there were actual feelings involved.

"What do I do?" You asked the pillow, knowing the inanimate object wouldn't respond. Exhausted from both the training session and your ‘sparring’ with Bucky was tiring you even more, you decided to take a nap, planning to contemplate your next steps once you had some rest.

The nap was short-lived when a soft knock echoed through the room. You rolled over in bed, and then you heard, "Y/N, are you asleep?" Wanda's gentle voice seeped through the door, causing you to frown as you sat up.

Recognizing it was Wanda, you got up from your bed and opened the door. "Oh, sorry, you were indeed asleep," she remarked, noticing your hair messed up. "I apologize for waking you up."

"I wanted your help," she said, her fingers fidgeting as she sat on the edge of your bed. "Vision's birthday is in two days," she explained, leaving you wondering how this concerned you. "And I want to give him something nice."

You let her finish, nodding in understanding. "I want to buy him this present, but I'm embarrassed," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You furrowed your brow, trying to grasp her dilemma. "Embarrassed?" you prodded, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I've never been to a sex store, I've never bought... you know... that sort of thing before. I thought if you could help me, it would be a bit less awkward," Wanda confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You were taken aback by her request, feeling both bewildered and unsure how to respond. "A sex store?"

She blushed deeper, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Well, Vision and I have been experimenting, and we've tried a lot of things. There's something new I want to try-"

"Wait, wait, wait," you interrupted, raising your hand to stop her. "I don't want to know any details.” You put a hand on her shoulder. "What you do with Vis is your business, and I'm glad that you're both happy."

You continued, your confusion apparent, "Wanda, why are you asking me to help you? Why don't you ask Natasha?" You hesitated, admitting your own unease about the situation. The idea of going to a sex store was equally embarrassing to you.

"I trust you," Wanda said earnestly. "I love Natasha, but sometimes she's too wild, you know? She'd probably buy me something that would end up on the Pornhub." Her reasoning made sense, and you recalled Natasha's tendency to be overly candid about her sex life.

"Besides," she added, "Natasha's on a mission, and she won't be back in time. By the time she and Vision return, it'll be too late." Her plea was both desperate and hopeful, and you couldn't help but empathize with her situation.

"Why can't you just go alone?” You inquired, trying to grasp her hesitation.

"It’s too embarrassing.” Wanda admitted, her eyes dropping to her lap. "People recognize me, and I'm worried about what they'll say, what they'll think." She hesitated before continuing, "I mean, people don't recognize you."

Ouch that hurt, but you knew what she meant.

Wanda quickly realized her blunder. "Y/N, I'm so, so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that. You had a mask with your costume, and your name is a secret, so... I'm just nervous. I'm sorry," she apologized, her tone filled with regret.

You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "It's fine, I get what you mean," you reassured her, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't like the idea of people recognizing me either."

There was a brief pause as you considered her request. "Um... I don't know, Wanda. It's not really my area," you said, hesitant about getting involved in such a personal matter.

"Please, Y/N. It would really mean a lot to me. I'm nervous about going by myself. I've never bought these kinds of things," Wanda pleaded.

You were about to decline her request when she dropped a bombshell. "I wasn't going to use this on you, but you leave me no choice," she said, her tone taking a sly turn.

"Uh, okay? What did you see?" you asked, frowning in confusion.

"You and Bucky," she smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I know all about the secret affair."

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard her words. Trying to maintain your composure, you feigned innocence. "What secret affair?" you responded, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Wanda continued to wear that knowing smirk. "I saw you and Bucky in the gym," she added, not letting you off the hook.

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse quicken. "Oh, we were just sparring," you said, attempting to provide a reasonable explanation, though your voice sounded weaker than you had hoped.

Wanda gave you a look that said, 'Yeah, right.' "Sure, you were.” She continued to smirk, “If by mean sparring involving his tongue down your throat and his dick in you.”

Your eyes widened, and you stammered, "Wh-what?” Trying to play it off coolly, you added, “You must be mistaken. We didn't..."

Wanda chuckled, her amusement evident. “Don't lie to me. Bucky's eyes met mine." She teased, her playful demeanor breaking the tension in the room. She continued, "and you, my friend, looked so fucking hot."

You blushed harder, but you felt a bit proud, "Well, you can't blame me. Bucky's so hot and so damn sexy, he can make any girl go weak in the knees."

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, focusing on the more pressing issue at hand. "But seriously, how did you see us? Why aren't you on the mission? But Bucky said no one else entered the gym today." A flicker of confusion crossed your face as you recalled the locked door. "How did you even get in?"

Wanda chuckled, her amusement undeniably genuine. "Relax, you're like a storm of questions. Let me break it down for you." She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes glinting with mischief. "First, the mission? Turns out, I'm a bit too unpredictable for Tony's taste. He thinks my powers might mess up the plan. So, here I am, stuck in the compound."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Tony Stark's cautious approach. Your sympathy for her situation grew.

"And about the gym door," she continued, her tone casual, "well, that's where my power come in handy. I can open any door with a wave of my hand and step right in, undetected."

"I'm sorry," you said sincerely. "About the mission, I mean. I couldn't go either. Maybe that makes you feel a bit better."

Wanda offered you a warm and forgiving smile. "No need to apologize," she said, dismissing your apology with a wave of her hand. Leaning in closer, her tone took on a mischievous edge. "Now, let me continue," she said with a sly grin. "I was getting ready for my gym session earlier, and then I heard some interesting sounds coming from this room. I peeked in, saw you and Bucky having a heated argument, and I was about to step in."

You squirmed in your seat, mortified by her revelation.

Wanda continued with a sly grin, relishing the opportunity to tease you. "And then... he kissed you," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "and I instantly knew things were about to get intense. It was quite the show by the way,"

Your face turned various shades of red as you tried to process her unexpected presence during such an intimate moment.

She chuckled, her tone playful. "But here's the kicker, after Bucky noticed me, he didn't bother slowing down. He kept on kissing into you, while he was looking at me. That's when I decided it was my cue to make a graceful exit.”  

You were taken aback by that revelation. "Wait so you only saw us kissing? You didn't see what happened next?" you asked.

Wanda raised an eyebrow and nodded. "That's right, just the kissing. But the way you were moaning, I had a pretty good idea of where things were headed."

You hid your face in your hands, unable to shake the embarrassment that had washed over you. "Wanda, you witch!" She was playing you so good. She was just guessing about it. If you played it cool, maybe you could salvage the situation. After all, Wanda didn't know the extent of your involvement with Bucky.

"What? Am I wrong?" she said, grinning slyly.

"Maybe?"

"Liar, I know I'm not." She said. “Now I know you fucked each other.” she concluded, raising an eyebrow mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the newfound power dynamic.

"Okay, we were caught in the act," you sighed, defeated. You blushed a little, "What are you going to do about it? Tell on us?"

"I'm not going to tell anyone about you lovebirds, if that's what you're worried about," Wanda assured, her expression surprisingly understanding, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Your embarrassment surged again, "Lovebirds? We're not..." you began, attempting to deny any romantic involvement.

She cut you off with a knowing grin. "Oh, please. I've seen enough romantic tension to recognize it when I see it. And you two? Well, let's just say, your 'sparring session' was more intense than any training I've witnessed."

"But it was probably a one-time thing." You tried to sound nonchalant, but even you knew it was a stretch. "That's just physical attraction. Nothing more."

"Really?" Wanda gave you a skeptikal looks. "It looked like there was something more going on between the two of you than just fucking. I saw the way he looked at you when no one was looking. It was different. Like you were his. Like he didn't want anyone to touch you, and you were his and only his."

"Wanda, are you serious?"

She nodded, "Yes! I know there's something more between you and Bucky, and I also know you have feelings for him, too."

You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I don't know... we haven't talked about it." You sighed, "I don't think he wants more than just sex, anyway."

Wanda gave you a confused look, "Are you serious? Did he tell you that?"

You shook your head slowly. "Well, no, not really. He hasn't mentioned anything, and it's not like we've had the chance to discuss our relationship."

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you this. Bucky will kill me if he finds out, but I'm going to say it anyway," she confessed. You chuckled inwardly, the most powerful Avenger, being cautious of Bucky.

Intrigued, you leaned in closer, your curiosity piqued. "What's going on?"

Wanda continued, "He told me not to tell you that I saw you two kissing because he didn't want you to worry about it. And when I asked where you were, he said you were probably sleeping, and I should let you be."

"He said that?" You felt your heart swell. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Wanda nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Yes, and that's why I'm sure there's more to it. I can see it in his eyes. I know he has feelings for you."

"He does? How did you know?"

"Y/N, I know people. I can read his mind if you want, but that would be an invasion of his privacy," Wanda explained, her tone reassuring yet firm.

"Yeah, of course. I won't let you do that," you quickly responded, appreciating her respect for boundaries. "But thanks, Wanda. I appreciate you telling me."

"Now, let's go back to my problem.” she said, steering the conversation back to her original request. “Come on, Y/N, please help me go to the sex store.”

You hesitated, considering her request. Then an idea struck you. "How about we just order online?" you suggested. "That way, neither of us has to go near the place. We can discreetly make the purchase online."

"That does sound like a better plan," she nodded eagerly. Then, with a hint of desperation in her voice, she added, "But, please, make sure it's addressed to you and not me. I really don't want anyone to know I made that purchase," she implored.

You raised a valid concern. "What about me? People will still find out if it's shipped to me."

Wanda leaned in, her voice low and reassuring. "But they don’t know your real name, Y/N. No one knows except us and the Avengers."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and reluctant agreement. "Fine," you conceded, rolling your eyes. "It will be addressed to me. But please, Wanda, promise me you will keep your mouth shut."

"Of course, Y/N, you can trust me. I won't breathe a word to anyone," Wanda assured you with a genuine sincerity. "Your secret's safe with me, I swear."

Relieved, you allowed a small smile. In response, she beamed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N! You're the best person ever!" she exclaimed, squeezing you with enthusiasm.

You chuckled awkwardly. "You're welcome, I guess." Returning the hug, you hoped that your decision wouldn't lead to unexpected complications.

She broke the hug, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll send you the link later," she said, her tone tinged with excitement. Rising to her feet, she continued, "I'll leave you to rest now. You must be exhausted after your workout, aren't you?" She smirked knowingly, her gaze flickering towards the door, "And I bet Bucky play a big part on it too, didn't he?"

"Shut up." You grabbed a nearby pillow and playfully tossed it at her. She dodged it with a laugh before heading towards the door.

"Bye, Y/N," she called out, her voice fading as she exited the room.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile at her audacious attitude. She was certainly something, and you knew this secret shopping mission of hers was bound to be an adventure.

You stepped into the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat. The water hit your back and you felt so relaxed, your hand trailed down between your legs, you thought about how good it felt to have his cock inside of you, how he fucked you in the gym.

You stepped on the shower to get ride of the smell of sweat and sex that Bucky left you with. When the cold water touched your skin, it brought you back to the real world.

"Ow! Ow! Shit, shit!" You said under the shower and quickly turned it into warm water. "I forgot how much this place is always cold." You whispered, and began washing your hair and body.

Now you felt relax as the water fell on your head and back. The memory of the moment that happened not even an hour ago played on your mind, like a movie. 'That's right doll, take my cock' and the sound of his low and raspy voice echoed on your head.

Your hand trailed down your body, and when you got to your pussy, you rubbed your clit. "Fuck" you hissed.

You could feel your arousal growing as you started fingering yourself. You leaned your head against the shower wall and moaned his name. You thought about how good it felt to have his mouth all over your neck and body.

The water was hot and steamy, but not enough to cover your moans. Your breathing was ragged and uneven. You imagined it was Bucky who was there with you, touching you. You closed your eyes and tried to recall every detail of the encounter.

Your fingers were now deep inside your pussy, pumping hard and fast. You could still feel his tongue on your clit, licking and sucking. You knew he liked to watch you squirm.

You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure in your stomach was getting stronger and stronger.  

"Cum for me, doll." He whispered in your ear.

"Bucky! Fuck!" You screamed. You arched your back, your eyes rolling back. Your whole body shook with pleasure, waves of pleasure coursed through your veins.

You stood under the shower and breathed deeply. You didn't want to move, the hot water felt nice against your skin. But eventually you got out, wrapped yourself in a towel, and walked to the mirror. "God, look at that" you said, examining your neck.

There was a hickey where Bucky had sucked on it, and another one on your chest. It was too obvious for the others to see, but you didn't mind. You enjoyed it, and the memory made you smile.

As you saw yourself smiling like a fool, you slapped your cheeks lightly, "No, Y/N. Get a hold of yourself. You are not doing this again." But you knew you wanted to do it again.

As you dressed and settled on the bed, your phone chimed, and you saw Wanda sent you a link. Tapping on the link and the site appeared on your phone. You saw a variety of different vibrators and dildos and other stuff.

You tapped on the vibrator and it was in different colors. Black, red, pink, purple, etc.

"Oh wow." you breathed, your eyes widening as you scrolled through the available choices. As you delved deeper into the product descriptions, your intrigue grew.

'Great for solo or partnered play, its shape is flexible so it can be inserted easily, the base is wide enough so it won't slip out and the curved end is made to hit your g-spot, this vibrator is the best and you can't go wrong with it, you will always get pleasure and will leave you satisfied.'

You scrolled through the page, your eyes widening at the sheer array of options. " Jesus Christ, there are so many," you muttered, marveling at the variety.

You didn't know what to pick. So, you decided to take a screenshot and sent it to Wanda.   "Wanda, I'm so confused. Which one should I pick?" You texted her. "What kind do you want? The purple one? Or the black and white one?"

Her response came swiftly. "Get both, also the lingerie. Oh, and make sure to get some lube, I need a lot for the toys," she texted back.

"Damn, Wanda, I didn’t know you were such a naughty girl," you mumbled to yourself, amused by her boldness.

"Ugh, gross, I’m going to need therapy after this," you quickly replied, feeling a mix of amusement and horror.

"And I need to bleach my eyes after seeing you two," she replied, her response laced with playful sarcasm.

You chuckled and continued browsing the website. "So much stuff. How can people use all these? Is this the kind of thing people use?" You whispered. You couldn't help but wonder which ones Bucky might enjoy.

There was this one that caught your attention. You clicked on the image, the vibrator popped open, and a description appeared. It was an eight-inch g-spot vibrator and anal vibrator with a remote control. It was a dual action toy that stimulated both the vagina and the anus.

'This 8 inch dual action toy is an ultra powerful vibrator that delivers powerful stimulation to both the vagina and the anus. The soft and silky material makes it a perfect beginner's toy, and its strong motor and wide bulbous tip makes it great for experienced users too.

With a curved end that will hit your g-spot and an insertable length of 8 inches, it's sure will give you a powerful sensation and will leave you screaming in pleasure. It also has a strong motor and 15 different speed and vibration patterns.

This toy is also waterproof, so you can enjoy it in the bath or the shower.'

Then you saw a video of a woman using it. The sounds were really loud and it sounded like it was being used for the first time. "How can she handle all that noise? It sounds like a jet taking off." You thought, watching the video.

Wanda's text jolted you back to reality. "Have you picked the items yet? I'm waiting," she inquired, her impatience coming through.

"Yeah, I already put them in the cart. I'm about to buy them."

"Okay, thank you! Good night!" she messaged, her excitement palpable.

"Good night," you responded.

Exhaustion began to weigh on you, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment. You were utterly spent, and as you settled into the comfort of your bed, sleep swiftly claimed you.

The next day, you woke up early, your throat was dry, scratchy, and sore. Part of it was Bucky's fault, he fucked your throat too rough hitting the back of your throat.

He's a beast.

You then recalled, ‘you loved choking on my cock huh?’ As Bucky's dirty words rang in your ear. You had to admit, that was the best blow job you've ever given. You didn't know why, but something about the fact that he was using your mouth for his own pleasure excited you. You found yourself wanting to please him.

"Fuck." You groaned, burying your face in the pillow, the darkness soothing your sore eyes.

You walked into the kitchen to get some water, you took the bottle of water from the fridge and drank it. You wondered if Bucky stayed to keep an eye on you and Wanda since now both of you were considered as a threat.

You still haven't discussed about what happened with Bucky. What's the relationship now? Were you just fuck buddies? Was that one-time thing? Or does he want more? Your heart raced at the thought of having more with him, you've never been in a relationship before, but with him? That sounds amazing.

After finishing your water and tossing the empty bottle into the trash, you decided to pay a visit to Bucky's room. However, when you arrived, you found his bed empty. Disappointment washed over you, and you wondered if he had been called away on a mission.

As you exited Bucky's room, you bumped into Wanda. "Morning, babe," she greeted you cheerfully.

"Hey, Wanda. Have you seen Bucky?" you inquired.

"Yeah, he's in the gym," she replied with a knowing smile.

"Great, thanks," you said, feeling a renewed sense of hope. You exchanged a few quick words with Wanda before she set off for the market to gather supplies for the day's meals, and you headed off to find Bucky. Wanda wished you luck before parting ways.

You went to the gym to see Bucky. When you reached there, the gym was empty, there was no one there.

“Bucky?” you called.

"Yeah?" His response came as he walked out, wearing only a towel. Despite the serious conversation on your mind, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the way his abs looked after the shower, water still dripping down his torso. "What's up? You good?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay.” You said, clearing your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. "Just wanted to talk."

"About?"

"Us," you said, meeting his eyes. "About what happened last night." He had an unreadable expression, the look on his face didn't make it seem like he was happy about this conversation.

Bucky let out a sigh, his face expressing a clear desire to avoid the topic. "Y/N, can we not? I'm not in the mood." He began putting on his clothes, his movements brisk and uneasy.  He clearly uncomfortable with the conversation at hand.  

But you couldn't let it go. The events of the previous night hung between you, an unspoken question begging for an answer. "No, Bucky, we can't just ignore it. I know things have been weird between us," you began, "What does it mean for us? I mean, is it going to happen again?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his jaw clenched. "Y/N, stop." He warned, his tone growing stern for you to drop the conversation.

You sighed, looking at him with sad eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why do you keep pushing me away?" You asked, your voice determined, refusing to let the matter rest.

"I don't want to talk about this." he hissed, his patience fraying as he continued to dress, his movements becoming more agitated. "I have important stuff to do right now, so no."

"I want to know why the fuck you're acting this way!" you snapped, getting frustrated with his behavior. "Stop being a dick and just tell me. Are we going to do this again or what? What does this mean for us, huh? Is it a one-time thing or something more?” you demanded, raising your voice.

"God damnit Y/N! Just fucking stop! What's wrong with you?!" He yelled, his frustration boiling over. "Just fucking leave.”

Your heart sank, but you refused to back down. "No, not until you explain what our relationship is now," you insisted, your voice steady, though your hands trembled with the intensity of your emotions.

His glare could have frozen hell over, his eyes radiating cold anger, "We are not in a relationship. We have nothing. Do you understand? Nothing." he stated bluntly, his gaze piercing through you as he threw his duffle bag to the floor in a fit of frustration, its contents spilling out.

The look in his eyes...there was no emotion there. Just the cold stare of someone who no longer cared, and it felt like a stab to the chest. "You want to talk? Fine. Let's fucking talk. We fucked, that's it. It was a fucking mistake.”

The impact of his words hit you like a bullet to the chest. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "What…?" holding his glare as you tried to mask the hurt in your expression. This was worse than any outcomes you had ever imagined.

"A mistake, Y/N. I shouldn't have done that. It was a bad idea. It happened because I was stressed and needed to release some steam." His voice growing colder, "it was the only thing that got my mind off of everything.”

The finality of his words sinking in. “It was a fucking mistake. You happened to be there and I happened to be horny. We fucked. End of the story. Nothing else. Now fucking leave."

You had expected this to be just a one-time thing, and you thought you could handle that. But what he said was far worse, leaving you feeling utterly devastated, the weight of his rejection crushing you.

 "I just happened to be there for you to fuck? To release your steam? You think of me that way?" You asked him.

He remained silent, refusing to look at you, his gaze fixed on the floor. Why were you still standing here, allowing him to strip away your dignity? Yet, a part of you desperately clung to the hope for an answer.

Every word carved a deeper wound into your heart, yet you pressed on. "No, I need an answer," you insisted, your voice growing more desperate. "Was it just sex?”

He met your question with a nonchalant shrug, his indifference cutting deeper than any rejection. "That's all it was. Yes."

"So, it meant nothing, I'm just another girl you fucked?" you asked, the pain in your voice evident as you tried to make sense of his words.

He continued to re-packing his bags, "What more do you want me to say, Y/N?" he retorted, his anger rising once again. "That I made a mistake? That I fucked up? That I regret it? There, happy? Or do you want to hear me tell you that I used you?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces as the truth of his words struck you like a hammer to the chest. You had given your heart to him, only for him to break it. You couldn't speak, could barely breath.

"It meant nothing to me, Y/N," he continued, his voice filled with disgust. "It was a moment of weakness, and it should never have happened."

You wanted to scream, to lash out, to strike him, but instead, you stood there in silence, unable to move. Bucky's words were like daggers, piercing your heart, leaving a deep wound that would never heal. You felt numb, the pain and betrayal too much for your body and mind to handle. You knew that you would never be the same, that a part of you would always be broken.

"I thought we had a connection." You asked, your voice small, the tremor betraying your vulnerability.

His response, devoid of any sympathy or remorse, struck like a knife to your heart. "Well, you were fucking wrong. You're a fucking mistake, Y/N. You should have known better than to expect anything from me. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

The finality of his words was a slap to your face, the sting of his rejection leaving a deep, jagged scar across your heart. You would never forget his words, or the way he looked at you, his eyes filled with hatred and disdain.

You couldn't comprehend why he was acting like this. Was this the real him? He was cold, emotionless, completely different from the person you thought you knew in the gym, making you question whether the person who had shared that passionate moment with you was real.

You should've known better. You shouldn’t listen to Wanda on the first place, her suggestion was ridiculous and it led to this mess. Your heart was broken, the pain was unbearable. You were alone.

You had no one.

But the rawness of the rejection stung. It was time to leave, to salvage what remained of your wounded pride and self-respect.

"Fuck you, Barnes.”

"You already did, sweetheart.” You saw a slight smirk, “Unless you want more, I can give you that. You have a body to die for.”

Fed up with his disrespectful attitude, you turned to leave, your hand gripping the doorknob. However, something compelled you to turn back and confront him. As you faced him again, you noticed his gaze lingering on you, catching a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps regret? But then, his expression hardened once more returned to its cold, distant state.

Summoning your strength, you said, "You really know how to hurt people, Barnes."

Bucky's response was laced with bitterness and self-awareness, acknowledging the pain he had caused, "I know, I'm a master of it." He said without looking at you with expression that you couldn't quite read, as if he wanted to say something more. Yet, he remained silent.

The room grew quiet, a heavy silence settling between the two of you, neither one willing to speak first. After what felt like an eternity, you averted your gaze, your eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered your farewell. "Goodbye, Barnes." With that, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door slamming shut behind you, the sound echoing the finality of the moment.

As you left the gym, your steps heavy and your heart heavier, the weight of the emotional wounds settled in. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you made your way back to your room. There, behind a locked door, you allowed your emotions to spill out. You collapsed onto the bed, your sobs echoing in the room. You didn't know how long you cried, but it was enough time for your head to hurt. You wiped your tears, feeling the exhaustion set in.

Bucky was mean, he was really mean. You thought he had changed but apparently not. Not anyone was capable of changing. As you cried, you made a silent promise to yourself: you wouldn't let him hurt you again.

E/N : I apologize for leaving you hanging with another cliffhanger, but I didn't want to make Part 2 too lengthy and risk boring you. I acknowledge it might not be as good as Part 1, and for that, I apologize. Rest assured, I'll make it worth the wait in Part 3 (I promise)! On a positive note, who's excited for the groveling trope? I certainly am! Get ready for some intense moments! intense moments ahead!

All the sub-plot with Wanda will start to make sense in Part 3 as it intertwines, and you can expect some moments of jealousy and possessiveness from Bucky as well.

Don't forget to show your support by leaving likes and comments; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😊📚

Taglist:

@vicmc624 @am-3-thyst @barnesandsteven @naeenae @rainy-day-lady @nouk1998 @cl7ire @oneofthedyingpoets @dnovastark @waywardhunter95

If you want to be added/removed, just let me know!

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | epilogue pt. 1

word count: 17k | reading time: 1h aprox. | series masterpost | my works ✨

Tags & trigger warnings: this takes place 2 years after the previous events; established relationship; noah & reader are married; fluff; sexual content including p in v (unprotected), creampies, masturbation (not on page), breeding kink, mentioned shibari practices; thoughts/feelings related to fertility issues; pregnancy; childbirth; dad!noah; angst; cliffhanger. — I'm sure I'm forgetting a bunch of things because this is super long and there's a lot going on. I'll keep updating it, but please do let me know if you notice I forgot sth.

This entire thingy is dedicated to @somebodyels3. Needless to say, this epilogue is 17k and not 3k because of her endless ideas and permanent brainrot. I'm forever grateful for your constant messaging and obssessive behavior towards samurai!noah. This fic is exactly what happens when readers reach out to writers 💕🥹

Thank you to all of you for reading and giving my writing a chance. I'm so happy how this turned out.

Author's note: writing this entire thing was a journey on its own. It's super long so I've divided it into "pages" (11), to make it easier to follow in case you need to take breaks or can't read it all at once :) Also, I've revised it a couple of times but my brain is mush now. Oh, and I have 0 experience with pregnancy and delivering a baby so please bear with me, I did my best 🫣

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR — EPILOGUE PART 1

— page one

2 years later

I knew I was ready when I saw Noah coming down the steps from the training grounds, carrying a little girl in his arms. 

She couldn’t have been more than three or four years old. 

While it wasn’t unusual for parents at the sanctuary to introduce their children to defense and archery at a young age, this little girl seemed far too small. I didn’t recognize her, but she looked completely at ease in Noah’s arms as he made funny faces at her.

A light breeze blew through that spring day, and the sun graced us with a gentle warmth. The girl had her hair pulled up in a high ponytail, but Noah, whose hair had grown to his shoulders since his last haircut the previous summer, hadn’t bothered to tie his own back. When a gust of wind rustled the trees, it caught his hair too. His strands swept across the little girl’s face, and she scrunched up her nose, leaning back in his arms and closing her eyes, her hands flying up to shield her face.

“Sorry,” Noah said, stiffling a laugh.

“It tickles!” she giggled.

“I lost my hair tie,” Noah explained.

Moving her hands away from her face, she sweetly offered, 

“I can lend you one.” 

“That would be very kind of you,” he said, tapping her nose playfully.

Her response was a bright smile, followed by her resting her head on his shoulder, settling in comfortably.

Noah noticed me, then. 

“Oh, hello, love.”

I was still in my training suit and gloves, having just finished an archery session. I had stayed a few minutes longer to chat with Rika before heading home.

“Hi,” I replied automatically, my mind elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he quickly scanned me to make sure I wasn’t hurt.

The girl glanced at me shyly, clearly unsure who I was.

Noah called my name, snapping me back to reality.

“Hm?”

“Is something wrong? Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Oh,” I stammered, “yeah, must be from training. I’m fine.” I smiled, but Noah didn’t seem convinced, studying me with a raised eyebrow—until a soft voice interrupted.

“She’s pretty.”

Noah and I both looked down at the little girl in his arms, who was comfortably settled against him, with one of his arms holding her easily—though that was no surprise, given how small she was and that he stood at 6’3”.

“She is,” Noah agreed, smiling down at her and then at me. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

If I was already blushing before, I was blushing more now. I didn’t know what was happening to me. Embarrassed in front of a girl? Or was it because seeing her in my husband’s arms awakened something in me?

Obviously, it was the latter, and even if I didn’t say anything explicitly, it didn’t go unnoticed by Noah, of course. 

“This is Lila. Her parents want to know if she’d like to learn to train, but she’s still very little, so they’ve let her watch one of the trainings. She’s tired and hungry now, so I’m taking her home. Thomas has been left in charge of the group until I get back.” 

When he touched my cheek (for his own amusement because my reaction was obviously amusing him), he watched me with an intensity that made me clench my thighs. Noah leaned over and left me a kiss on my wrist after assuring me that we would meet in the common dining room at lunchtime.

— page two

I couldn’t stop thinking about it since that moment. The realization lingered in my mind, and throughout the day, it haunted me like a secret I was too embarrassed to admit—even to myself. 

I wanted to be a mother. I wanted Noah and I to become parents, to bring a life into this world that was a part of both of us. I imagined a little one, a perfect blend of Noah and me, running through the gardens, learning to wield a bow or defend him or herself with a sword, just like their mother and father.

At lunch, a swarm of butterflies fluttered wildly in my stomach, their wings beating in rhythm with the thought of Noah getting me pregnant. My hands trembled slightly as I held my chopsticks, moving them aimlessly across my plate.

“You’re very quiet today,” Noah observed, his voice soft yet curious.

I glanced up at him, caught off guard. His eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and amusement, met mine. The faintest smile played at the corner of his lips, as if he knew I was hiding something.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” he teased gently.

“Nothing special,” I replied quickly, lowering my gaze to my plate.

“Nothing special?” he repeated, not convinced by my response.

“No, nothing,” I insisted, shaking my head, hoping to divert the conversation. But Noah wasn’t so easily deterred.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your reaction when you saw Lila in my arms, would it?” he asked, his voice laced with a knowing tone.

I felt my cheeks flush. “What? No, of course not.”

“Are you sure you’re not having any thoughts about… us?” He leaned across the table, lowering his voice to a whisper, “About me… emptying myself inside of you?”

“Noah!” I hissed, glancing around quickly to ensure no one could hear. My face grew even warmer, and I looked away, mortified.

Noah’s expression softened the moment he noticed my hesitation, his usual playful smile giving way to something more thoughtful. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes searching mine, the stillness between us broken only by the quiet rustle of leaves in the wind filtering through the open gates and windows.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked, leaning forward over the low table that separated us in the dining room. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, carried in by the breeze that swept through the open doors, revealing the stunning view of the distant mountains. The sacred sanctuary where we had made our home over the past two years was nestled deep within the heart of the Japanese wilderness. These mountains had become our refuge, our place of peace after years of turmoil and uncertainty.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of my own silence. My mind raced.

“Maybe,” I whispered finally, staring down at the uneaten rice in my bowl.

“Maybe?” he echoed, lifting a brow.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted, glancing out at the garden where the soft glow of the sun bathed the wildflowers in golden light. The deer that roamed freely here, so at ease with us, grazed quietly in the distance. “I saw you with Lila earlier… and something shifted.”

Noah studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“Okay…” His voice trailed off, his gaze still lingering on my face as if he were piecing together my unspoken thoughts. “Should we talk about it?”

“Can we finish eating first?” I asked softly. “And then take a walk?”

He agreed with a small nod.

After eating, we wandered through the gardens that stretched out beneath the towering peaks. The trees swayed gently, their branches heavy with late autumn leaves, casting long shadows in the fading light. This sanctuary was the life we had dreamed of since childhood, free from the constant pressure of being a born the daughter of a Shogun and a Samurai bound by honor and duty. 

Yet, as we walked, my thoughts were anything but peaceful. The gardens, the scent of pine and mountain air, even the distant sound of water trickling from the springs—they all blurred into the background. My hand fidgeted at my sides. I couldn’t bring myself to hold Noah’s hand. His silence only added to the tension, until finally, after several minutes, he stopped. 

Noah took my hand, forcing me to halt beside him.

“You can’t stop thinking about it,” he acknowledged quietly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. He didn’t need to say more; we both knew what he meant. We had been dancing around this conversation for months now, maybe even years, but it had never gone beyond the idea that it would happen… one day.

I looked up at him, my heart in my throat. We had survived so much together, ever since we were children. But this? This next step had me edgy.

Noah stepped closer, his broad shoulders blocking out the last rays of the sun as it dipped behind the mountains. His presence was strong, reassuring, as it had always been. 

“You’re right: I can’t,” I admitted. “It’s been in my head every since this morning.

“Then don’t treat it like it’s nothing,” he urged. The weight of his words hit me hard, making my breath hitch.

I opened my mouth to speak, but for a moment, nothing came out. Then, I said, 

“I want it, Noah,” I confessed, my voice trembling as I looked up into his eyes. “I want us to have a family. I want a baby. But I’m scared.”

He cupped my cheek with his roughened hand, the warmth of his touch grounding me. “Scared of what? Carrying our child? Of the journey? Of the future?”

“All of it,” I whispered. “But mostly… I’m scared I won’t know how to be a mother.” 

I dropped my gaze, my fingers twisting anxiously in the fabric of my sleeve. 

“I grew up in a palace, surrounded by rules, discipline, and duty. My mother… she was so distant, always the perfect wife to my father, the Shogun. But never my mother,” a loud sigh escaped my lips. “And my father… well, you know what he was like. The Shogun never had time for his daughter’s needs, only for his ruler’s duties. I was never shown love, not the kind I imagine a mother or a father should give.”

Noah’s hand paused for a second as he absorbed my words. His thumb traced a tender line along my skin, a soft contrast to the roughness of his palm. 

“I understand,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “It wasn’t easy for you, living like that. So much expectation, and so little warmth.”

I bit my lip, the storm of emotions swirling inside me. 

“How can I be any different? What if I make the same mistakes? I’ve never been shown how to love a child. What if I end up like my mother… cold, distant, too concerned with doing things ‘right’ to actually love?”

He shifted closer, his hand moving from my cheek to the back of my neck, his grip both grounding and protective. 

“You won’t,” he said, his voice certain. “You already know how to love, even though you never saw it from them.” His eyes searched mine, unwavering. “Look at how you love me.”

I blinked, stunned by the simplicity of his words.

“You had nothing to guide you, no real example,” he continued, his gaze holding mine steady, “yet you love me with a strength I never thought I deserved. You’ve given me more than I ever dreamed of, and I know that same love will pour into our child. You didn’t learn love from your parents, but somehow, you’ve always known how to give it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. 

“But you’re different, Noah. You’re not a child. You don’t need me the way a child would. What if I can’t…”

He shook his head, his hand moving to cradle my face again. 

“No. You didn’t just find a way to love me. You made me believe in it. If you can do that—show someone like me, who’s spent his life in war, discipline, and hardship, what love really is—you can do anything. And you won’t be alone in this. We’ll figure it out together.”

I closed my eyes, leaning into him, trying to absorb his calm certainty. 

“But I don’t want to lose myself. I don’t want to become so wrapped up in expectations or doing everything right that I forget how to feel.”

Noah’s hand stayed firm, steady. 

“That won’t happen. You’re stronger than you think, and more loving than you give yourself credit for. If we do this, we do it our way. Not the way you were raised, not the way your father would have expected. We’ll make our own path, just like we have ever since we left that castle.”

His words wrapped around me like a protective barrier, pushing back the fear that had held me in place for so long. 

His eyes softened, and he smiled. 

“You’ve already done the hard part: You escaped that world, found your own way. If you could only see the woman standing in front of me… You’re more than capable of being the kind of mother you want to be. And whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. That’s all that matters.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a wave of emotion crash over me. 

“Is it really that simple?”

Noah’s lips curled and his eyes glimmered with something deeper than love—hope. 

“It won’t be simple. But we’ll make mistakes and learn. You’ll show our child the kind of love you never had, and I’ll be by your side through it all, doing the same.”

His hand rested over my heart, where it beat fast beneath his touch. 

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he confessed. “You, carrying our baby, your belly growing with each day, and you—so radiant it’s like you’re lit from within.”

I scrunched my nose, fighting a smile. 

“Radiant, huh?”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Like nothing else in the world.”

He stepped closer and reached down to pluck a small daisy from the ground. 

“I can already see it,” he continued, “you walking down this path, your belly sweet and round, a few flowers in your hair...” With a careful touch, he tucked the daisy behind my ear, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Just like this. You’d be perfect,” he murmured, his hand brushing against my cheek as he pulled back. “When you’re ready,” Noah concluded, “I am too.”

When we returned, the sky had darkened, and the streets were alive with the quiet activity of the townsfolk. We made our way home, walking over the cobblestone streets and exchanging evening greetings with neighbors lounging on their porches. As we approached our house, the familiar warmth of its wooden walls and the soft flicker of lantern light welcomed us. The building was newly finished, larger than the first one we had been assigned, and tucked away from the busier center of the sanctuary. It stood in a peaceful corner with a few other homes nearby, offering enough space for a growing family—three or four children could easily fill its rooms.

I could feel Noah’s presence behind me as we stepped into our room. I needed space, time to process what we had talked about, and Noah—being Noah—seemed to understand that without needing to say a word.

I moved slowly, undressing in the quiet of the room. 

The fabric of my robe slipped from my shoulders, falling to the floor with barely a sound. I could feel his gaze on me, warm, but he didn’t say anything. He simply watched me with a quiet patience, his expression soft, thoughtful. Noah had always looked at me like I was something precious—something worth waiting for.

I didn’t rush either. The weight of the day lingered, but it wasn’t overwhelming anymore. It was just there—settled between us like a quiet understanding.

When I finally slipped into bed, Noah was already lying there. He didn’t reach for me right away. He just watched as I settled beside him, the cool sheets quickly warming beneath my body. For a moment, we both just lay there, listening to the sounds of the night—distant crickets, the faint rustle of leaves beyond the thin walls of the sanctuary.

Then, slowly, Noah’s arm draped over my waist, pulling me gently into the circle of his warmth. I pressed my back against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, his heartbeat a soft, reassuring rhythm beneath my cheek. 

I could feel his breath against my neck, soft and even, as if he, too, had found peace in the quiet. He made no move to do anything more, no hint of impatience or expectation. Instead, his body curled around mine, protective and comforting, and I let myself start to drift to sleep in his arms.

For so long, our lives had been filled with chaos—fleeing the expectations of a princess and a samurai, navigating the dangers of our forbidden love. And now, we were here, in this quiet, sacred place we had found together, where there was no rush, no fear chasing us. Just us, in the stillness of the mountains, knowing that we had all the time in the world.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, and I felt Noah shift slightly, his lips brushing softly against the back of my head in the gentlest of kisses. 

— page three

A week later

Verbalizing my desire to become a mother seemed to have triggered the doubts and fears I had felt briefly when I discussed it with Noah the week before. 

In the days that followed, I kept asking myself what would make me feel ready—what needed to change for me to take the next step. 

The answer, I realized, was nothing. I was with Noah. We were married, happy. We had a home, and we were safe and healthy.

Still, it took me a few more days to actually say it out loud. It felt like if I didn’t speak up, Noah would wait forever, unwilling to take any steps until I clearly told him I was ready.

So one morning, shortly after we’d woken up, I stood in front of a full-length mirror wearing cotton shorts and a plain t-shirt. My hair was still messy, and my face showed signs of sleepiness, even though I had already washed up and tried to make myself presentable in the bathroom just minutes earlier. We had slept well. The night before had been exhausting, but Noah had coaxed me into sleep by spooning me, his fingers moving in soft circles between my legs until I came with a gasp. I don’t remember much after that—I must have drifted off to the sound of his breath against my ear.

As I stood there, I placed a hand over my stomach, imagining it. A smile crept onto my face, and I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear Noah approach until he was right behind me.

He wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me not only with his long limbs but with his familiar masculine, earthy scent. He had just shaved and was wearing his training suit. The only thing missing was his katana, resting on the bamboo stand across the room.

He pressed a kiss to my hair, waiting for my eyes to meet his in the mirror. I let out a long, heavy sigh. Before he could frown, I said, 

“Okay. I’m ready.”

His eyes darkened with realization.

“You mean...?”

I took one of his hands and gently slid it down until it rested over my stomach. His hand was so large, his slender fingers covered most of it. The sight was both comforting and thrilling.

I bit my lip and nodded. 

“Ready ready,” I whispered.

He stayed tense behind me for a moment, holding my gaze with a fierce determination. Finally, his shoulders relaxed, and he nuzzled my hair with his nose until his lips found my ear. His hand, which had been resting on my stomach, slid a little lower.

“Should we start like this?” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver through me. “With you standing in front of this mirror, naked?”

“I—”

“I can undress you in no time,” he promised. “Are you thinking about it? Me thrusting into you from behind until I spill inside of you?”

I bit my lip harder, my mind going fuzzy as my body weakened under his touch. 

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Without giving him a verbal answer, I rubbed myself against him, pressing my body into his, my derrière against his front. 

He growled softly and nibbled at my earlobe. 

“I can’t believe this is finally happening...” His teeth lingered on my earlobe as his hands tightened on my kimono. After a brief pause, he let go with a growl of frustration. “Lamentably, I need to be at the training grounds in five minutes. I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Right, so did I, and I was still in my pjs. I couldn’t help pouting a little.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” he said, stepping back and adjusting his pants. “You don’t deserve a rushed orgasm. You deserve to be given a sweet time.” 

Sensible enough to aknowledge our agenda, I turned around and wrapped my hands around his neck, hanging from him as his arms came around my waist. 

“Tonight,” I concluded, my voice low but content.

“How could I say no?” he said, and he leaned down to kiss me. 

— page four

What turned into some sort of frenzy began that night.

Noah became increasingly determined to achieve his goal of getting me pregnant, even when there was a high chance it had already happened within the first few days, when we made love on every possible surface in the house.

The first time was in bed, though we had undressed each other hurriedly against the wall, his lips on mine, our hands exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. We had been building up to that moment all day—stealing glances whenever we spotted each other on the training grounds, brushing past each other whenever our paths crossed, each touch sparking the fire that smoldered between us. Finally, when we reached the privacy of our newly built home, nestled further up in the valley just a ten-minute walk from the center of the sanctuary, we let that tension consume us.

What began as a heated, passionate encounter soon slowed, Noah letting me have my way with him. I flipped him over, moving above him as he panted beneath me, his lips parted, hands roaming my body, worshipping every curve and imperfection.

Noah let me take control for a while, his desire evident, but as his hands tightened around my waist, he suddenly shifted, rolling us over until I was beneath him. His body was strong, and his gaze filled with a mixture of intensity and tenderness. Hovering above me, he held back, his muscles tense with restraint.

“May I?” he asked, his voice thick, barely controlled. His eyes searched mine, waiting for permission, much like a samurai would wait for his commander’s signal to strike, bound by a discipline that demanded patience, even in the face of raw need.

I could only nod at first, my lips parted, a breathless “yes” escaping me. 

He moved with deliberate precision until finally, with a growl deep in his chest, he let go. His release surged into me, filling me up as he trembled against my body. I could feel the warmth of his seed coating my insides, settling deep within me.

When he tried to pull away, I placed my hands on his rear, my fingers gripping him tightly, keeping him pressed against me. His body was still, hot and heavy against mine, our breaths mingling in the charged air.

“Don’t,” I said softly, feeling the heat of him inside me. “It’s warm,” I added, the sensation grounding me, making me want to keep him there, connected.

He let out a low, guttural sound, somewhere between a growl and a groan. His eyes darkened further, the control he had just moments ago slipping away. The disciplined samurai had vanished, leaving behind a man driven by pure instinct and desire.

We lay there in silence, our eyes locked on each other, and after a few moments, I reached up to run my fingers through his hair, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“It’s getting so long,” I said, my voice light. “We’re going to have to do something about it soon.”

But even as I spoke, I could feel him stirring inside me again, ignoring my attempt at distracting him. His body had barely softened, and now he was already hardening once more, his breath catching, his gaze growing darker. Where moments before he’d held the controlled discipline of a warrior, now he was undone, overtaken by the primal urge.

It turned him on, breeding me. 

I bit my lip, my own body reacting to the thought, a flush spreading through me.

“Not helping,” he muttered, his voice low and teasing, though the heat in his eyes said otherwise.

As I tightened around him, I felt Noah’s entire body tense. He groaned, his muscles flexing, a thick vein protruding from his neck as he fought for control. His jaw was set tight, teeth clenched, nostrils flaring, and a bead of sweat slid down his temple. The sight of him like this—on the edge of restraint, barely holding back—was intoxicating. It felt like the first time all over again, because this time, everything was different. He had never emptied himself inside me before, and the look on his face, etched with fierce desire and control, was a masterpiece.

I tightened around him again, deliberately, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way he dug his fingers into my hips just a little harder. He muttered my name in warning, his voice a low growl.

I didn’t care.

“I’m not scared,” I whispered, my voice steady and full of intent. “Fill me up. Again.”

And he did. Over and over. Night after night. In the mornings, in the evenings—sometimes we couldn’t wait until we got home. 

On some days, we’d pack a simple lunch and walk to the quiet spot we’d found months ago, a little clearing not far from our house, near a peaceful pond. We’d spread a blanket under the shade of trees, surrounded by flowers and butterflies, and sometimes we’d forget what we’d even come there for, losing ourselves in each other instead, making love under an oak’s shadow. 

Some nights, we’d go two, three rounds. The energy surprised me—how neither of us seemed tired despite everything we did for the sanctuary. Noah spent hours training, guiding both children and adults. His dedication showed not just in his skills but in his body. He was bigger now, his muscles thicker, his presence more commanding than ever. I taught archery, though not for as many hours, and when I wasn’t teaching, I’d help tend the animals or the gardens. But no matter how much we exerted ourselves throughout the day, the moment we stepped into our cozy home, all that energy seemed to refuel. We’d fall into each other, our hunger and desire stretching well into the night, neither of us ever quite ready to stop.

One of the last times, I’d been on all fours, my head hanging low, utterly spent after Noah had had his way with me, first by tying me up to his mercy then having me in that position. Noah was still behind me, his hands gripping my hips firmly, keeping me flush against him as he pulsed inside of me. His breathing was ragged, rough.

“Round three?” he asked, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on my skin, teasing me even though I was already undone.

I turned my head, looking at him over my shoulder. My skin was flushed pink, my hair a mess, my legs aching, my core sore from the intensity of it all. But I didn’t care. I wanted Noah. I wanted him to move inside me again. I wanted him to get me pregnant. I wanted to carry his child.

“Round three,” I whispered with a tired but eager smile.

He pulled out slowly, muttering a curse when he saw some of his release slip out of me. In one swift movement, he flipped me onto my back, positioning himself between my legs. Still on his knees, he grabbed the backs of my knees, lifting me slightly so my hips rested on his lap. His cock was already hard again, throbbing and ready. He didn’t waste time sliding back into me, thrusting deep with a rhythm that never failed to steal my breath.

Every movement was controlled and purposeful, and each time he drove into me, I felt the fire build inside again, spreading through me until I was trembling beneath him. When we finally finished, he pulled out carefully, his hand immediately moving to my hips to lift me higher, ensuring none of his release escaped. He wanted it deep inside me—he wanted it to take.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever, my hips elevated in his lap, his hand gently caressing my navel and lower belly. The room was silent, the air filled with the scent of our intercourse and sweat. Even as we lay there, naked and sticky, a flood of images washed over us. I could feel Noah thinking the same things I was.

We could see it—our future. Us, lying in bed with a tiny baby nestled between our bodies, Noah cradling our child to sleep, gently cooing him or her. I pictured myself breastfeeding in the comfort of our bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets, Noah watching from across the room, his eyes soft and filled with love. His gaze would be alight with that same tenderness he had now, but even more so, as we became a family.

This is what we wanted.

— page five

Weeks began to slip by, and with them came a quiet restlessness. I kept waiting for something—some sign, a shift within me that would hint at the pregnancy we were working so tirelessly for. But nothing came. The thought that there might be a problem, that maybe we couldn’t have children, was a worry I hadn’t wanted to entertain, yet it was growing, subtle but persistent, at the back of my mind.

Noah and I were still consumed by each other, our sex life as wild and frequent as ever. Nearly every day, we made love, keeping it thrilling and passionate. On special days, Noah would devote entire sessions to binding me in every possible way he knew—tying me up, restraining me from different angles, making me feel like each time was the first time all over again. Some of the orgasms were so intense that I completely forgot why we were doing it in the first place. That was the beauty of it—to create life without the pressure of it hanging over us. In those moments, we weren’t thinking about making a baby. We were simply focused on each other and the joy and pleasure we brought to what we had. 

I couldn’t have asked for a better husband. Noah was everything—attentive, loving, adventurous—but still, a creeping fear began to gnaw at me. What if we got tired of this? What if the constant focus on sex eventually wore us down, eroding the very foundation of our relationship? I was afraid that one day we’d need a break—not just from trying to get pregnant, but from each other.

When that fear became too loud, I started taking time for myself in the afternoons. I’d leave the noise and bustle of the sanctuary behind, wandering deeper into the forest, away from everyone. I’d explore areas I hadn’t yet ventured into, discovering hidden corners where the trees grew thicker and the air smelled richer, heavy with the scent of earth and moss. It was peaceful out there, a quiet place where I could escape the pressure I felt building inside of me. I found comfort in the endless varieties of plants and flowers that grew around the sanctuary, as if the forest itself was alive with possibility and beauty, even when I felt uncertain.

On one particular day, I set out farther than usual, letting my feet carry me to a part of the forest I hadn’t yet explored. As I walked, I heard a noise—a soft cry. It wasn’t the sound of a bird or any animal I recognized. I hesitated for a moment, my heart skipping in response, before I reminded myself there was no need to be frightened anymore. My father’s pursuit had ended, the Shogun’s reach didn’t extend here, and Noah had seen to every possible detail of our safety.

Still, I felt a strange pull toward the sound. I stepped carefully through the underbrush, following the cry until I saw it—a small creature struggling in a tangle of thorns and spiky branches, just beyond a mossy boulder. 

A wolf cub.

It was tiny, barely more than a pup,  grey dark fur matted and caught in the sharp tendrils of a thorny plant. I crouched down slowly, unsure at first if it was injured, but its trembling told me it was terrified. The cub dark eyes locked onto mine, wide with fear, and my breath caught in my throat. There was no sign of its parents, no sign of any other wolves. The pup was alone.

I approached cautiously, my voice low and soothing, 

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

As I reached for the small creature, intending to gently free her from the thorns, the animal suddenly barked, a warning sound that made me pull back. The animal growled, baring its tiny teeth, its body trembling with fear. 

I was unsure what to do. My instinct told me to help the cub, but its fear made it unpredictable.

I held my hands out, palms up, hoping the creature would sense I meant no harm. 

“It’s alright, I just want to help you.”

It growled again but didn’t back away. I let the pup sniff my hands, my heart beating fast as I watched it and got closer. That’s when I noticed it was a she.

Her nose twitched as she caught my scent, and after a long, tense moment, she seemed to relax—just a little. 

Slowly, I reached out to pet her, brushing my fingers lightly against the top of her head. She flinched at first, but then, to my surprise, she leaned into the touch.

“Good girl,” I whispered. 

There was something calming about petting her, as though the trust we were slowly building was enough to quiet both her fears and mine.

But the thorns were still tangled in her fur, the sharp spines digging into her leg and holding her captive. She wouldn’t be able to free herself, not without more pain. I realized I couldn’t do it with my bare hands either, at least not easily. That’s when I remembered the knife.

Months ago, Noah had insisted that I carry a small knife with me, just for safety. It didn’t matter how much I had tried to convince him that we were safe here in this sanctuary, that nothing could harm us in these mountains. Noah had needed the reassurance that I would be able to protect myself if he wasn’t there, no matter how remote the chance of danger. Reluctantly, I had agreed, even though I never thought I’d need it.

Now, for the first time, I reached for the small blade at my waist.

“I’m going to help you, okay?” I whispered to the cub, more to reassure myself than her. She didn’t seem to understand, of course, but she had stopped growling, her dark eyes now watching my every move.

Carefully, I brought the knife to the tangled mess of thorns, using its sharp edge to cut away the thickest parts of the plant. The wolf cub shifted uneasily as I worked, her little body tensing, but she didn’t fight me. I spoke to her softly, trying to keep her calm. 

“I’m almost done, I promise.”

The thorns were stubborn, but after several moments, I managed to free her leg from their grasp. I set the knife down and gently checked her leg. It was swollen and scratched from where the thorns had dug in, but the wound didn’t look too deep. 

“There you go,” I said, stroking her head again. “You’re free now.”

As if in response, she licked my hand, her tongue warm and rough. The small gesture of gratitude caught me off guard, and in that moment, a strange dizziness washed over me like a sudden gust of wind. 

I closed my eyes, steadying myself with a deep breath.

When the dizziness passed after a couple of minutes, I opened my eyes again to see her nuzzling my stomach, her small nose pressing curiously against me. I frowned, unsure why she was doing that. She nudged my abdomen again, and again. With her injured leg, she moved in slow, careful circles around me, her little tail brushing against my skin. Without giving it a second thought, I scooped her up into my arms, her small body trembling slightly but no longer resisting me. She felt fragile but also strong in a way that reminded me of the quiet strength Noah always said I possessed.

“Let’s get you to the sanctuary,” I said, standing up and making my way back through the woods.

The cub stayed nestled in my arms as I made my way back. I could feel her warmth against my chest, but I was worried, that’s why I decided I needed to get her to the temple. If anyone could help her, it would be the elderly couple that lived there, with their healing hands and wisdom.

As I approached the ancient stone steps of the temple, my eyes caught the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the trees, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. The place always felt timeless, as if untouched by the worries of the world. The old couple, whom everyone in the sanctuary regarded with quiet reverence, would be behind the main gates, always tending to those in need—human and animal alike.

I climbed the steps carefully, the cub stirring slightly in my arms. When I reached the door, I knocked gently. After a moment, the door creaked open to reveal the warm, gentle smiles of Master Jiro. His wife, Yumi, who had tended to Noah’s wounds a couple of years ago, was kneeling in front of the hondō but immediately rose to greet me. Their eyes, bright with age yet sharp with wisdom, softened as they took in the little creature cradled in my arms.

“Come in, child,” Yumi said softly, her voice like a lullaby, soothing and warm. She stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter the quiet temple.

Jiro followed her, his movements slow but purposeful, a peaceful aura surrounding him. His ever-present gentle smile grew a little as he saw the cub, his eyes taking in the situation with quiet understanding. 

“You’ve found a friend,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of calm, like a steady river.

I stepped inside, feeling a wave of calm wash over me as the familiar scent of incense filled the air. The temple was quiet, save for the soft sounds of nature filtering in through the open windows. I laid the cub down on a woven mat, her leg still swollen and bruised from where the thorns had gripped her.

Jiro knelt beside her with his slow movements, his eyes filled with compassion as he examined her wounded leg. The cub, sensing the shift, bared her small teeth and let out a frightened growl, her body tensing with fear.

Yumi, always watching, always knowing, knelt on the other side, her hands folded in her lap, calm and still. She smiled softly at the cub, her eyes twinkling. 

“She’s scared,” she said quietly, looking at Jiro. “But her fear is only natural.”

Jiro nodded, his expression never changing. “Fear can be soothed with time and care,” he whispered, gently reaching out to touch the cub’s leg.

The cub snapped at him, her little teeth missing his hand by inches. But Jiro didn’t flinch, nor did his gentle smile fade. He continued working, his hands patient and sure, as if this kind of resistance was something he’d long grown used to. He dabbed a soothing balm on the scratches. 

Yumi watched quietly, her hands still folded, her eyes flickering from the cub to me with that knowing look she always had, as if she could see more than what was in front of her. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?” she asked, her voice kind but curious, her head tilting slightly as if she could sense something I couldn’t.

I blinked, caught off guard. 

“I’m fine,” I replied, though her question left a strange sensation swirling inside me, the same faint dizziness I’d felt earlier. I brushed it off, smiling at her. “Just tired, I think.”

Yumi’s smile never wavered, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something almost maternal, like she knew something before I did. She didn’t press further, only nodded and patted my arm softly. 

“Be sure to take care of yourself, child.”

I nodded, her words would echo in my mind later on as I made my way down the temple steps, the cub resting peacefully in my arms. 

For now, the cub, despite her initial resistance, began to relax under Jiro’s steady hands. Her growling subsided, replaced by soft, almost resigned whimpers. Slowly, she allowed him to treat her, her body going limp as if she understood, finally, that she was safe.

“There,” Jiro said after a few moments, finishing up with a soft bandage. “She’ll heal just fine.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, kneeling beside the cub as she nuzzled into the mat, finally calm. My hand found her soft fur, and I stroked her head, feeling the tension in my own body begin to ease.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Take her home with you,” Yumi suggested. “She’s found you for a reason. She’ll rest better with you.”

I hesitated for a moment, imagining Noah’s reaction when I brought the cub into our home. 

As if sensing my doubt, Yumi placed a hand on my arm, her touch light but grounding.

“Don’t worry. Sometimes, creatures like her come into our lives to remind us of something important.”

Jiro nodded slowly. 

“She needs you,” he added simply.

With the cub nestled back in my arms, I made my way out of the temple, the warmth of their words still settling in my heart. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows through the trees as I walked back home. I looked down at the sleeping cub, her tiny breaths even and calm now, and I felt that same strange pull inside me. Something about her nuzzling my abdomen earlier still lingered in my thoughts, but those were quickly replaced by Noah. He was always so protective—of me, of this place. Bringing a wolf cub into our home felt like crossing a line, one I wasn’t sure he would understand. But leaving her alone to fend for herself wasn’t an option either.

With a sight, I climbed the steps to our porch. The house stood quiet and peaceful as I stepped inside. I set the cub down on a blanket near the windows facing the back garden, her leg still tender from where the thorns had torn at her. She sniffed around cautiously, her tiny paws padding across the floor as if testing her new surroundings. I watched her for a moment, chewing my lip. 

Maybe I could explain it calmly, show Noah the cub’s innocence, how small and harmless she was. But the thoughts in my mind twisted into nervous energy. Wolves weren’t exactly house pets, especially in these mountains. He might see her as a threat, or worse, a reminder of the dangers we had escaped.

The main door opened a while after. I heard the familiar soft clink as Noah removed his katana. The thud of his boots followed, and his steps grew louder as he walked through the entrance of the house.

I exited the living room to meet him there. His dark hair slightly damp from his training session, his eyes softening when they found me. His presence, always so solid, always so calm, made my heart race for an entirely different reason now. He crossed the steps to me with a quiet grace, leaning in to kiss me softly on the lips, his hands cupping my face. But I was stiff, and the moment I pulled back, biting my lip nervously, he noticed.

He narrowed his eyes, instantly reading the tension in my stance. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly, offering a smile I didn’t feel. 

“Why are you standing like that?” 

Before I could respond, a loud crash echoed from deeper in the house—something falling and breaking. I winced, glancing toward the noise.

Noah’s eyes darted over my shoulder, and just as he stepped forward, the wolf cub came barreling into the entrance, her small body bounding toward us, paws skittering across the wooden floor. My heart leapt into my throat as I stepped aside, and before Noah could react, she leaped straight into the air, aiming for him.

His reflexes kicked in, and he caught her midair, holding her at arm’s length. The look on his face was a mixture of surprise, confusion, and disbelief.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, staring at the wriggling cub in his hands. The cub, oblivious to his shock, wagged her tail furiously, her tiny teeth trying to nip playfully at his fingers.

I hesitated, wringing my hands nervously. 

“I found her in the woods,” I began, my voice shaky. “She was hurt, tangled in some thorns. I couldn’t just leave her there”

His eyes darted between me and the cub, still struggling in his grasp, as if trying to make sense of the situation. 

“And so you brought her home?” His tone was incredulous, but not yet angry.

“She needed help, so I helped her. Then I thought… we could keep her,” I continued, stepping closer, my heart racing. “She’s just a baby. Look at her.”

Noah glanced down at the cub, her small body wriggling with energy, her bright eyes full of innocent curiosity. But his expression remained skeptical. 

“You thought… what?” he prompted, still holding her at a distance.

“I thought we could keep her,” I said, biting my lip, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

His brow furrowed, and he gave me a long, searching look. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“She’s a baby,” I argued. “She’s harmless.”

“She’s a baby wolf,” he corrected, his voice firm but not unkind. “And a she, on top of that.”

“What does that matter?” I asked, frowning at his tone.

“Have you thought about her mother?” he replied, his voice lowering as if explaining something to a child. “Wolves are fiercely protective of their cubs. If her mother’s nearby, and she scents her here, it could bring trouble.”

I shook my head.

“She was alone, Noah. I’m sure her mother abandoned her. I searched, but there were no signs of other wolves nearby.”

Noah’s eyes softened, but his grip on the cub didn’t loosen. 

“Even if she was abandoned, this isn’t wise. Wolves don’t belong inside homes. When she grows, she’ll be wild.”

I took a deep breath, stepping forward and gently taking the cub from his hands. She nestled into my arms, her soft fur brushing against my skin as she relaxed against me. 

“But she’s so small now. We can train her, teach her.”

Noah ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. 

“Training a wolf isn’t like raising a dog. She’s wild by nature, and when she gets bigger… it could be dangerous. She’s going to hunt the deer, eat the chickens… She could hurt you.”

“I know… You make a valid point…”

“A few, actually.”

“Yes,” I conceded, “and obviously you’re worried,” I said, understanding. “But look—she already likes you.” I gestured toward the cub, who was now pawing at his arm, her tail wagging furiously. “We could tame her and…”

He glanced down at the pup, his expression wavering. She let out a small bark, and Noah’s stern façade cracked just a little. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“She’s just a pup,” he acknowledged, more to himself than to me. 

I sensed his resolve weakening. 

“Exactly. And you think she’ll suddenly stop liking you as she gets older? From what I’ve seen, the opposite happens,” I said, smirking a little.

He chuckled at that, shaking his head and looking up from the pup at me.  

“You’re impossible.”

I grinned, pressing closer to him, the cub still cuddled in my arms. 

“Please, Noah? Just until she’s healed. We can decide what to do after that.”

He sighed deeply, giving in at last. 

“Fine. But if she chews through my boots, I’m holding you responsible.”

I beamed, standing on my toes to kiss him. 

“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.

Noah glanced down at the wolf cub, who had now settled in my arms, her eyes slowly closing. 

“But remember,” he said, his voice serious again, “a wolf isn’t a pet. We need to be cautious. Her instincts could change as she grows.”

“I understand,” I said, though I couldn’t help but feel a sense of victory.

— page six

Three weeks later

I found myself walking through the forest near the temple, Trouble padding along by my side. 

Her legs had grown remarkably strong, her once clumsy steps now confident as she darted between trees, stopping occasionally to sniff the air. 

Despite Noah’s concerns, she had become a loyal friend, never straying far from me. 

I smiled as I watched her chase a falling leaf.

Her adaptability to the sanctuary had been extraordinary so far. Each day, she learned more about her new home, her instincts slowly reshaping as she experienced the tranquility of the forest and learnt to become familiar with our little community. At first, she had been wild and skittish, causing trouble wherever Noah and I took her—hence her name. Her eyes had been wide with uncertainty as she navigated the unfamiliar sounds and scents. But now, her confidence was blossoming like the flowers in spring.

In just three weeks, she had transformed from a fragile cub into a robust young wolf, growing almost a third of her body length and gaining noticeable muscle. She had gone from fitting snugly in the crook of my arm to nearly matching my height at the shoulder, her powerful legs carrying her with grace and agility. 

Noah and I devoted ourselves to her training, determined to help her shed the wild instincts that could pose a threat to the sanctuary’s other inhabitants. We spent countless hours teaching her commands, introducing her to various animals, and reinforcing positive behavior. Her ears would perk up at the sound of my voice, her tail wagging excitedly as she responded to commands. With Noah’s patient guidance, she learned to obey—“come”, “stay”, “don’t”, and even the critical “leave it,” which became essential when we were near the smaller animals that roamed the sanctuary. She even seemed to grasp Noah’s firm “don’t you dare,” though I suspect it had more to do with the sharp look Noah would shoot her just as she was about to misbehave.

There had been a lot of misbehaving, of course.

One afternoon, I returned from tending to the garden to find Noah in the entrance of our home in a fit of frustration, standing over his chewed-up boots. Trouble had taken a particular liking to them, her little teeth having left marks all over the leather. Noah’s face was a mix of anger and disbelief as he scolded her rather loudly. He stood tall, his posture rigid and commanding, embodying the discipline of a samurai as he confronted the wolf. The authority in his voice was terrifying. Trouble understood quickly. She bowed her tail and retreated, her ears flattening against her head as she scampered off to hide beneath a bush in the back garden. For two long hours, she remained hidden, a small bundle of fur trembling in fear, while Noah paced back and forth, trying to calm down.

Eventually, his irritation faded, replaced by concern. 

“Where did she go?” he asked after giving up on his boots—he would need new ones. 

I pointed towards the shaking form behind the plants and bushes in the garden. He walked outside, barefoot and knelt down, taking a deep, resigned sigh before calling her name and coaxing her to come out. 

“Come here, little one. I’m sorry I yelled. It’s okay.” 

It took him fifteen minutes to convince her to come out. Her big eyes cautiously met his, and the moment they locked gazes, she stood on her four legs and stepped out, approaching him hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, extending a gentle hand. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad. I won’t do it again.”

She sniffed his hand, then gave it a quick lick.

“But please, promise you won’t chew on my boots again.”

Maybe it was the softening of his tone, but Trouble barked as if agreeing, and as soon as Noah smiled, she charged at him, knocking him down into the grass. I burst into laughter, watching the two of them tangled up, Noah grinning beneath her playful assault.

From that day on, they became inseparable. Noah had learned to temper his frustration, and Trouble, having experienced his wrath, understood the bond they shared was deeper than a moment of anger. She followed him everywhere whenever I stayed at home—otherwise Noah would command her to follow me. Her loyalty was so dedicated—it felt as if she had made it her mission to be by our side. Whenever the three of us went for a morning or evening walk, it was a sight to behold—my husband, once a formidable warrior, now calmly navigating the forest with a young wolf trotting obediently at his heels.

I could see the joy in Noah’s expression as he worked with her, his deep voice steady and calming. He took her on long runs through the forest, where she could expend her energy and learn the boundaries of her new environment. The more we trained, the more she thrived. She became a graceful creature, her body maturing rapidly, and I marveled at her transformation.

But it wasn’t just our training that made a difference; I couldn’t shake the feeling that the magic of the sanctuary played a role in her growth and adaptation. The land itself seemed alive with a higher power, its essence wrapping around us every second of the day. I noticed the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting ethereal glows that danced around us, and how the gentle whispers of the wind felt like the sanctuary itself urging us forward. Perhaps it was this nurturing environment that allowed her to adapt and grow so quickly, her size now nearly matching mine, her presence so majestic and commanding whenever she would walk next to Noah or just as she stood by herself guarding our home. 

We even included her in our daily routines, teaching her how to interact with the animals we cared for in the sanctuary. I introduced her to the goats and chickens, her curiosity piqued as she approached them with cautious enthusiasm (she did, unfortunately, kill a couple of chickens the first few times we set her free when she was just a pup). However, the way we taught her to interact with the other animals was a step forward, and her behavior became more refined every day. Soon, she was lying beside the goats or running with the deer or chasing kitchens just for the fun of it. Her wildness was tamed but never fully extinguished, and it was beautiful. Her spirit was still there, vibrant and alive, just now channeled into something more harmonious in par with the place Noah and I were building our life. 

As Trouble and I grew closer, I began to notice how she mirrored my movements, always keeping me in sight, as if she were as intent on protecting me as I was on protecting her—or as much as Noah was on protecting me. Although I suspected this had something to do with the time she spent training with him, a swell of pride filled me.

Now, as I watched her chase that leaf, I couldn’t help but think of the journey we’d both been on, how we were shaping each other in ways I never anticipated. The sanctuary was becoming a place of growth for all of us, and I looked forward to the adventures yet to come.

We meandered along a narrow path, the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves surrounding us. I paused to admire a cluster of wildflowers, their vibrant colors brightening the forest floor. Glancing down at my companion, I noticed her ears perked up, as if she too was taking in the beauty around us. 

After a while, as my feet began to ache a little, I glanced down at Trouble and ran my hand through her fur. 

“What do you think about visiting the temple to pay our respects to the spirits of the forest?” I suggested. 

Trouble tilted her head, as if contemplating my words.

As we approached the temple ten minutes later, a wave of nausea hit me, sudden and overwhelming. I stopped in my tracks, one hand instinctively going to my stomach. Trouble noticed immediately, her ears perking up, and she bounded back to my side, her bright eyes full of concern as she started to bark in alert. 

I tried to steady myself against the wall of the temple, but the pain intensified, and I let out a scream. Before I realized it, Jiro and Yumi emerged from the temple’s main gates just a few feet away, their robes fluttering around them, faces a mix of sudden concern and reverence as they approached. Instinctively, Trouble placed herself between us, letting out a low, warning growl, her body tense and protective as she stood guard, ready to defend me if necessary. 

“No,” I struggled to say to her, kneeling to her level and placing a calming hand on her head. “It’s okay. Let them.”

Trouble hesitated, her dark eyes fixed on the elders, then backed off slightly, though she remained watchful. I straightened, forcing a reassuring smile as the elders finally reached me.

They nodded toward the wolf, then looked back at me. 

“We need to take you inside. You don’t look well.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but another wave of nausea rolled through me, stronger this time, making my vision blur. I nodded weakly, letting them guide me toward the inside of the temple, my feet feeling heavy and unsteady. As I took a step forward, Trouble let out a sudden bark and bolted into the trees, vanishing from sight.

The elders followed her with their gazes until she disappeared, puzzled, their brows furrowed with concern. 

“She’s going to find Noah,” I managed to say. 

They brought me inside the temple, laying me gently on a cushioned bench. The aroma of herbs and incense filled the air. My mind swirled with confusion and discomfort as I lay there, one hand resting protectively on my stomach. 

I closed my eyes, whispering a silent prayer, trying to calm my racing heart. The dim glow of the temple’s candles flickered against the walls, casting long shadows that danced eerily around the room. The gentle murmurs of the elders filled the space, their voices a soothing balm against my unease.

Suddenly, I felt the coolness of a cloth on my forehead. I opened my eyes to see Yumi’s kind face hovering above me, her expression warm and knowing. 

“There is nothing to worry about. You will be fine,” she said calmly.

And I believed her.

— page seven

Ten minutes later, I found myself kneeling in front of the hondō, alone. The elders had slipped away, leaving behind a stillness that helped soothe my racing heart. 

As I breathed in the fragrant air, I felt a shift, a subtle energy dancing through the atmosphere.

I heard the familiar rustling of leaves being stomped upon. The hurried footfalls of Noah drew closer, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of happiness at the sight of him as I turned my head. 

He looked especially handsome today.

Trouble padded softly behind him, her eyes bright and alert, darting between us as if trying to communicate something to Noah. 

Noah’s voice cut through my thoughts as he called my name, his tone laced with concern. I felt a wave of warmth wash over me as he hurried to my side.

“Hey,” I said, feeling a joy that seemed to swell within me. He knelt to meet my gaze.

He looked into my eyes with such intensity, tilting my chin upward to assess me, and I saw the love and worry etched on his face. 

“What’s wrong? You look pale. What is it?”

My heart raced. Before I spoke, I took a moment to look into his eyes—my husband’s eyes, the love of my life, the best choice I’d ever made. 

“I’m pregnant, Noah.”

He blinked, still crouched on one knee, his grip gentle yet unyielding on my chin, as if he were trying to ground himself in my reality.

“What?”

“I was taking a walk with her in the woods,” I explained, gesturing toward Trouble, who now sat proudly beside me, probably feeling content that Noah was by my side and danger was out of sight. “I decided to climb up to the temple, and suddenly I had this weird nausea and dizziness. The elders took me inside. It’s because I’m with child.”

For a long moment, there was only silence, his eyes widening with every passing second.  I could see the shock ripple through him as the words sank in.

“Pregnant?” he echoed, his voice thick with disbelief as if confirming that this was indeed real.

After so much trying, it finally happened. 

I nodded. 

“Yes, you know... the thing we’ve been trying for the past few weeks?”

The realization hit him fully now, and his expression softened, a mix of joy and concern flickering across his face. Without missing a beat, he stood up, glancing around the temple as if assessing the situation. “Sit down,” he said, his voice filled with sudden authority.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. 

“I am sitting.”

“No, I mean... stay down. You need to rest. Let me find some pillows, something to help you feel more comfortable…” His eyes darted toward the elders, who were now gathered near the doorway, watching the scene unfold with gentle smiles and waiting for Noah’s orders.

“Noah, I’m fine,” I insisted, though I could feel a certain exhaustion settling in my bones.

His gaze returned to me. 

“You’re pregnant. You need to—”

“I don’t need to be wrapped in cotton,” I interrupted gently, standing up despite the weariness tugging at me. A smile tugged at my lips, buoyed by the joy radiating between us. Noah immediately took my hand, his other arm wrapping around my waist, securing me to his side.

“You’re pregnant,” he repeated, more to himself than to me, his voice a mixture of wonder and disbelief.

I nodded, feeling a rush of emotion welling up inside me as I watched the realization dawn on him fully. The joy, the fear, the responsibility—it all played across his face as he held my gaze.

“We’re going to have a baby,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the words settle over us like a precious promise.

Trouble, who had been lying quietly beside me, suddenly lifted her head, her tail wagging with enthusiasm as if could understand the news. Noah glanced down at her, then back at me, letting out a soft chuckle. 

“She knew, didn’t she?”

I reached out, running my fingers through Trouble’s soft fur. 

“I think she did. From the very beginning…”

We stayed like that for a moment, the three of us surrounded by a profound sense of belonging. 

“Let me take you home,” Noah said. “I’ll tell Rei I’m canceling today’s remaining training sessions.”

— page eight

As my pregnancy progressed, the roles Noah and I played began to reverse in a way I never expected. While I was growing a baby in the most comfortable way possible—despite the relentless waves of nausea, the weight pressing down on my stomach, back pain, sleepless nights, and constant trips to the bathroom—I felt an overwhelming joy. There was something profoundly beautiful about carrying Noah’s child; it felt as if my body had been designed for this purpose after everything we had endured together.

But Noah, who had once been so eager to embark on this journey, struggled in ways I hadn’t anticipated. His confidence eroded with each passing day. The man who had been so eager and enthusiastic about getting me pregnant now found himself gripped by anxiety, worrying that something might happen to me or our baby. His protectiveness, which had always been endearing, had escalated to an almost suffocating level. Even Trouble, who had grown really big, seemed unable to provide Noah with the comfort he desperately sought.

The situation began to wear on me. For two months, Noah let me continue my training sessions with children, which I loved. But one day, in a moment of desperation, he knelt before me, his eyes wide with fear, and asked me to quit the sessions. 

“Please, just stop,” he begged, his worry hanging heavy in the air. 

I began to question whether he might have a breakdown or if he’d have to distance himself during childbirth to maintain his sanity.

I wanted to handle this conflict as best I could. I didn’t want to let myself succumb to tension or anger, fearing the baby might feel it. But Noah was really testing my patience with his insistence that I stop my archery lessons when I was still perfectly fit. 

“I will stop when I can’t walk two steps, Noah. There’s nothing wrong with me teaching archery. I’m okay. I feel good. I’m safe. The baby is okay.”

He rubbed his forehead, pacing back and forth in our bedroom.

His anxiety unsettled me.

“Noah…” I walked over and grabbed his hand. I could hear Trouble barking and growling outside, likely scaring the chickens away. “I know this is hard for you, but I need you to let me do this.”

Puffing out his chest to release a heavy sigh, he said, 

“I need you to have the most restful, peaceful pregnancy any woman has ever had. I can’t risk losing you or the baby,” he said, his tone serious as he enveloped my hands in his. “I’ve spent most of my life fighting for you, always believing I might never get this chance. Now that I have it, I need to do everything I can to protect it.”

I wanted to be angry at his protectiveness, but his words only made me love him more. I was truly head over heels for him. I had fallen for a boy, and now I was in love with this man standing in front of me, begging.

“I wish you wouldn’t make it so easy for me to love you more every day,” I replied. “I keep falling for you every time you say these things, even when it’s to try to keep me away from the training fields.” I said the last part through gritted teeth, finally coaxing a smile from him. “What would make you feel relieved?” I asked.

“You staying home.”

I scoffed. 

“Noah, we should go to the temple and talk to the elders. They’ll reassure you that there’s nothing wrong with me continuing my training. In fact, it’s good for me to keep exercising. I think the baby loves it,” I said, placing a hand on my belly.

Noah frowned, glancing at my growing stomach. 

“How could you know that?”

“It started moving,” I replied, my excitement bubbling over.

His eyes widened.

“Not much,” I clarified quickly, “but I think it has. Please, let me keep training?”

For a few seconds, he stayed quiet, eyeing me. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping.

“Okay, but the moment I hear one complaint from you or see that it’s taking a toll and you’re exhausted, you’re listening to me. And may I remind you I’m a very skilled samurai with ropes?”

I opened my mouth in playful disbelief. 

“Are you threatening to tie me up so I won’t leave the house?”

“Absolutely.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a bittersweet chuckle that echoed through the tension. Here I was, a woman accustomed to overcoming challenges, and he was worried about me slipping on an apple on my way to the training grounds. I understood his fears; after all, this was uncharted territory for both of us. But it was hard not to feel like I was carrying not just our baby but his worries too.

In a strange way, I was learning about love and fear. With each flutter of our child’s movements, I could feel the weight of Noah’s apprehensions and my own anxieties blending into something more profound. We were navigating this journey together, even if it felt like we were often two steps out of sync.

Noah’s tenderness, though at times overwhelming, was a reminder of his commitment. I had to remind myself that he was doing his best, even if it sometimes felt like he was trying to wrap me in bubble wrap.

As the days passed, I found ways to reassure him. We created rituals together—talking to our baby, reading stories, and planning for the future. Slowly, I could see the tension easing from his shoulders.

In the chaos of our fears and hopes, we were finding humor in our new roles. And while Noah’s protective instincts might have felt overwhelming, they were also a testament to the love that had brought us to this moment. In this blend of laughter and anxiety, I began to understand that our journey was not just about bringing a new life into the world; it was also about growing and adapting together, one quirky moment at a time.

— page nine

But I wasn’t one to give up easily. I’d been defying my father’s rules since childhood, so it wasn’t surprising that I wouldn’t follow Noah’s either, though I didn’t like hiding things from him. 

At seven months pregnant, I was restless. After a month of bed rest due to high blood pressure—which had sent Noah into a panic—I was desperate to move.

That morning, with Noah off in town with Rika’s and Milla’s husbands for supplies, I seized the opportunity. The moment the house grew quiet, I slipped on my boots and made for the door, but I wasn’t alone in my plan.

Trouble nudged my leg, her muzzle gently but firmly pressing against my thigh. Then, just as I reached the door, she tugged at the folds of my kimono with her teeth, trying to keep me from leaving. 

I sighed, shaking my head. 

“Oh, come on. You too?” I muttered, feeling a hint of amusement despite myself.

It was ironic, really, how Noah hadn’t wanted to keep Trouble at the beginning, when she was just a tiny bundle in his arms, insisting a wild animal would be too much trouble. Yet here she was, doing exactly what Noah would’ve asked of her—keeping me home, or at least trying to. I knelt down, giving her a gentle pat on her head. 

“You’re just like him, you know? Always keeping me in line.”

Trouble gave me a soft, questioning look but didn’t let go of my kimono.

With a little coaxing, I finally managed to free myself, and Trouble, loyal as ever, followed me out the door. She walked silently by my side, her dark eyes still watchful, as though she knew she couldn’t stop me but would make sure nothing happened—to me or the baby— while I was out. She had grown so much during my pregnancy, just like the baby in my womb. There was something oddly beautiful in that—two lives flourishing side by side, both growing stronger with every passing day.

At the training fields, Trouble watched me intently as I practiced with my bow. Her eyes followed my every move, her calm presence giving me a sense of safety. I trained carefully, enjoying the freedom, while she sat watchful and protective.

Afterward, feeling the pull to visit the temple, I walked with her through the woods. The air was still, the sun filtering softly through the trees. Once there, I knelt before the hondō, my hands resting on my belly, offering a quiet prayer of thanks to the spirits for their protection. I asked for strength, for wisdom, and for the safety of our baby. 

But merely half hour into my prayers, a sudden shift in the air made me pause. It was subtle but unmistakable, a change in the atmosphere around me that by then I knew too well. 

Trouble, who had been lying at ease beside me, calmly stood up, her posture relaxed but aware. That was all I needed to know. 

Without even turning around, I already knew who was there.

A voice, stern and unmistakably not happy, broke the silence. 

“You’ve been to the training fields.”

I closed my eyes, biting back a curse. 

So much for a peaceful praying day, I thought. I should’ve prayed that Noah wouldn’t find out. 

I took a breath, biting my lip before getting to my feet with some difficulty. A sharp ache shot through my back, and I winced, suddenly aware that maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t have spent so much time training.

Before I could fully steady myself, Noah was there, his hands on my arms, helping me up. His face was close to mine now, and I could see the tension in his jaw, the silent disapproval written across his features. He was not happy.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes for a moment.

His grip tightened slightly, steadying me, but his voice remained low and firm. 

“You shouldn’t be doing this, not in your condition.”

I met his gaze, trying to find the words to explain. But Noah’s eyes held a mixture of worry and frustration that left me speechless, and for once, I didn’t have a quick retort. Maybe, just this once, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“I haven’t been training the kids, I swear.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Noah replied, his voice low and measured. “You’ve been training yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, biting back a retort. 

“Noah, I’m pregnant. I don’t have a broken leg.”

He exhaled sharply, crossing his arms, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tunic, dusty from the road, smelled faintly of earth and the woods. 

“Clearly you don’t, otherwise you wouldn’t be wandering around in your condition,” he said, his tone a mixture of frustration and worry.

I threw my hands up, exasperated. 

“Will you stop talking about me as if I had some kind of problem? I don’t have a problem. What I have is your child in my womb, that’s all. Now stop making a fuss about it. You’re really getting on my nerves.”

His eyes softened for a brief moment, sensing my own tension, but his stubbornness didn’t waver. 

“You’re carrying my child,” he said quietly, stepping even closer. “For that to happen, I got inside of you. We did this together. You allowed me in your body, so now…” His voice took on a teasing edge, though the worry was still clear in his eyes “you have to allow me to get on your nerves.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Noah…”

“No, hear me out,” he insisted, his hands still dusted with traces of dirt from hauling supplies in town. He’d been gone all morning with the other men, gathering food and materials for the village. “You let me in your heart, your body, and your life. I’m in. I’m part of this. We’ve talked about this, for God’s sake. You don’t get to ignore my pleas and hide things from me when it’s inconvenient for you— not when it’s something this important.” His hands gently rested on my shoulders, his calloused fingers warm against the fabric of my kimono. “I’m worried because I love you—because I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, to our baby. Do you not get that?”

I sighed, biting my lip as I met his eyes. His protectiveness had always been a double-edged sword, one that both frustrated me and made me love him even more. I softened a little, feeling the weight of his concern. 

“I do, Noah, but you can’t treat me like I’m fragile. I’m not made of glass. I know my limits. I wasn’t pushing myself. I just… I needed to feel like myself again.”

As we spoke, Trouble, settled down beside me, lying on the ground with her head on her paws, watching the exchange. Her eyes flicked between us, calm and quiet, as if she too sensed the tension and waited for it to pass.

“I’m sorry I went behind your back when I agreed to take it easy…”

Noah stayed silent for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked down at my belly. His hand reached out to rest gently over the growing life inside me. 

“Every time I see you like this—pushing yourself, running around—it scares me.”

I placed my hand over his, squeezing gently. 

“I’m okay, though. Really. You’ve got to trust me on this.”

Noah sighed, the weight of the day’s work still visible in the way his shoulders slumped slightly. 

“I do trust you. But you’ve got to trust me too. Last time, your blood pressure increased because you refused to rest, and you convinced me to let you do more, and look where that got us. When I say I’d rather you didn’t train or walk around too much, it’s not just worry. It’s because I need you to be safe. I need both of you safe.”

I nodded, touched by the rawness in his voice. My shoulders dropped as I let out a deep breath. I was actually tired, and my body felt heavier than it had all morning. 

“Can we go home?” I asked, the admission quiet, almost as if saying it aloud made the exhaustion and guilt settle in deeper.

Noah touched my cheek gently, his other hand instinctively moving to my rounded belly, the connection between us—between him and the life we had created—undeniable. 

“Of course.”

Trouble let out a soft huff, as if in agreement, her dark eyes fixed on us. I chuckled lightly.

“You’re in trouble too, as usual,” Noah said, pointing at Trouble. “We’ll have a talk when we get home.”

In response, Trouble barked and quickly ran to my side, hiding her face from Noah. Noah shook his head with a smile and focused on helping me out of the temple.

“And I’m sorry if I was too harsh,” he said to me, his voice lower. “Ever since we found out… I’m on edge. I can’t seem to relax.”

I raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile forming on my lips. 

“Hmm. I can help you take that edge off.”

Noah paused, rising an an amused eyebrow at me. 

“I can never win with you, can I?”

I shook my head, barely containing my grin. 

“If I say yes, what do I get?” He asked. 

“Besides your release?” my voice dropping to a teasing tone. “You’ll have me on my knees for as long as you want. I won’t move from there.”

Noah chuckled, the tension in him easing even more as he fell into my playful banter. 

“On your knees doesn’t seem like the ideal position for a pregnant young lady,” he continued, his eyes gleaming. “Maybe I’ll just lay you down on the bed and tie your hands. Maybe I can take that edge off myself by keeping you on edge, considering you’ve been quite disobedient lately.”

“Whoops,” I said, grinning. “Am I in trouble?”

He leaned in closer, his voice low. 

“In a lot of trouble, young lady.”

I met his gaze, my pulse quickening, and for a moment, the tiredness I had felt earlier melted away, replaced by the familiar spark that always flickered between us. Despite everything—the worry, the exhaustion, the uncertainty—there was still this. Us. That, no matter what, would never change.

— page ten

During my last month, even the simplest tasks had become nearly impossible. Bending down, sitting up, even turning over in bed felt like monumental efforts. And putting on socks? Absolutely out of the question. 

One morning, as I sat at the edge of our bed, staring at the socks in my hand like they were the enemy, Noah walked in, fresh from the fields, his hair tousled and smelling faintly of the crisp morning air.

He looked at me, then down at the socks, and without a word, knelt in front of me, taking them gently from my hands. 

“You know you could just ask,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he slid one sock over my swollen foot.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. 

“And let you say ‘I told you so’ every day about taking it easy? No, thanks.”

Noah smirked as he slipped the second sock on, taking his time, being so gentle with me. But as he adjusted the fabric around my ankle, his brows furrowed, and he leaned back a little, scrutinizing my belly with a worried expression. 

“You’re too big,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I’m concerned. I don’t think it’s normal for you to be this big.”

I raised an eyebrow, barely containing a snort. 

“Noah, I’m about to pop. What did you expect? I’m carrying your child.” I placed a hand on my belly, feeling the familiar stretch under my fingertips. “Besides, I bet it’s probably a boy with your long legs. He’s just taking up all the room in there.”

Noah’s face softened at that, his hand moving to rest beside mine on my belly. 

“Long legs, huh?” His thumb stroked gently across the swell, a look of wonder in his eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s a girl, who’s just as stubborn as you and refuses to stay still.”

I laughed, feeling our baby give a little kick as if in response.

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Noah leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my stomach, then looked up at me, his brown eyes filled with tenderness. 

“I’m just worried, you know. You’re everything to me.”

My heart swelled at his words, and I reached down to cup his face, running my thumb over the stubble on his cheek. 

“And you’re everything to me, Noah. But I’m okay. We are okay. You’ve been taking such good care of us.”

He gave me a small, sheepish smile, but I could see the relief in his eyes. He pressed one more kiss to my belly before standing up and helping me to my feet. 

“Okay, Mama. Socks are on. What’s next?”

I grinned, leaning into him for support as I stood, his arm slipping around my waist in that familiar, protective way. 

“Next? I need some food. A lot of it, actually. And then maybe a nap.”

Noah chuckled, kissing the top of my head as we slowly made our way to the kitchen. 

“I think I can handle that.”

As we walked, Trouble emerged from the back garden, her fur brushing against my leg. She sniffed at my clean socks before moving over to Noah, licking his hand as if to say thank you for taking care of Mama. I couldn't help but laugh.

— page eleven

It was a peaceful afternoon, the kind of day that seemed to stretch lazily under the warmth of the sun. I sat comfortably in the living room, surrounded by the laughter and light chatter of my closest friends, Rika and Milla. 

We had gathered for tea and pastries, a weekly ritual that helped ease the wait for the baby. I wasn’t due for another estimated two weeks, so we didn’t think much of it as we munched on sweet biscuits and sipped warm tea. 

Outside, the garden was bathed in soft light and green colors. I noticed Trouble pacing through the open gates, her large form moving with a nervous energy I hadn’t noticed before. This was not her usual behavior. I furrowed my brows, setting my tea down.

“Trouble,” I called. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

At the sound of my voice, she paused, her ears twitching in my direction. Then, as if responding to some internal command, she trotted inside, her eyes sharp and alert. She came directly to me, nudging my legs with her nose and bumping her muzzle insistently against me, something she rarely did unless something was wrong.

I chuckled softly, brushing a hand through her thick fur. 

“What’s gotten into you?” I asked, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze. But as I looked into her eyes, I saw something there—a kind of urgency, almost pleading. Trouble let out a low whine, and then, with a deep breath, she tilted her head back and howled.

Both Rika and Milla stopped talking mid-sentence, their eyes wide with surprise.

“Trouble!” I exclaimed, gently pushing her away. “There’s no need for that! I’m fine, really. We’re just having tea.” I pat her head to calm her down. “Go on, now. Everything’s fine.”

She stared at me for another long moment, as if trying to will me to understand something. But when I didn’t budge, she let out a resigned huff and settled on the floor next to me, her body close.

Rika chuckled, shaking her head. 

“I swear, that wolf’s more protective of you than Noah sometimes.”

I smiled. 

“She’s been like this ever since forever. Can’t blame her, really.”

For the next half hour, the afternoon continued in its gentle rhythm. We chatted about everything—Rika’s latest weaving project, Milla’s son learning to ride a horse… The tea was still warm, and I felt a comfortable tiredness spreading through me.

And then, it happened.

At first, I felt a strange pressure, followed by a sudden warmth that spread across my lap. My teacup slipped from my hand, shattering onto the floor as I looked down, wide-eyed.

Oh.

“My water just broke.” The words came out of my mouth as I remained frozen on my spot. 

Milla’s eyes snapped to mine, and she immediately jumped into action, pushing the tea table aside. 

“Rika, go find Noah,” she commanded with urgency. “I’ll get her ready.”

Rika bolted up, nearly knocking over the tray with pastries and sweets in her haste. She darted out the door, disappearing down the path toward the town to find Noah, her sandals slapping against the stones.

Milla turned back to me, her face calm but determined. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked with her arms extended toward me. 

I shook my head. 

“I don’t know,” I truthfully answered. I felt like panicking. 

The baby was coming, earlier than expected, and Noah wasn’t there. 

“It’s okay. Let’s get you comfortable.”

She helped me up slowly, guiding me toward the couch where I waited with a hand below my belly while she quickly prepared a makeshift bed with a thin futon from a nearby cupboard and pillows and blankets, her hands moving with the practiced efficiency of someone who had done this before.

The windows were quickly shut, and the curtains drawn to dim the light inside. Milla kept talking to me, keeping my mind focused. She helped me remove my wet clothes, and wrapped me in clean blankets. Then she helped me lay down on the futon. 

But through the flurry of activity, I could hear Trouble outside the window, pacing and scratching at the door, whining softly to be let in.

Milla shot a glance at the door and shook her head. 

“Sorry, girl. Not this time,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, before returning her attention to me.

I winced as the first wave of contractions began to ripple through me. 

“Noah...” I muttered through gritted teeth.

Milla squeezed my hand, her voice gentle but firm. 

“He’ll be here soon. Just focus on your breathing.”

Outside, the afternoon had grown still. All I could hear now was the sound of my own breathing, the soft rustle of Trouble’s restless movements beyond the closed doors, and the quiet urgency in Milla’s voice as she prepared me for what was to come.

Time seemed to stretch and bend, slipping through my fingers like sand as the minutes dragged on. The early contractions, though uncomfortable, had been bearable at first—just a dull, rhythmic wave of pressure that slowly grew more intense. But now, each surge felt like a storm tearing through my body, and Noah was nowhere to be seen. Every breath felt heavier, every muscle trembling with the effort of staying calm.

Milla was still by my side, her voice steady and reassuring, but I could barely focus on her words. My mind was elsewhere, spinning with thoughts of Noah. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here yet? Had something happened?

Another contraction hit, harder this time, and I let out a low, involuntary groan. Trouble’s whining could be heard faintly through the walls, her claws scratching at the door, and that small sound somehow gave me comfort. Even though she couldn’t be by my side, I knew she was trying to get to me. She knew something wasn’t right.

Then, just when I thought I was completely alone in the room, an old, familiar presence appeared at my side. I hadn’t even noticed her slip in, but there she was—Yumi, the old woman from the temple. She sat quietly, her weathered hand resting on mine, her face calm and wise. I didn’t know how she got there or when she’d arrived, but her presence brought with it an unexpected peace.

For a moment, I closed my eyes, listening to her soft, rhythmic breathing. But suddenly, a new feeling overwhelmed me. Fear. A deep, paralyzing fear gripped my chest, and my heart raced. I wasn’t ready. I thought I was, but now that the reality of childbirth was crashing down on me, I realized I wasn’t ready at all.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

The old woman didn’t say a word. She simply gave my hand a gentle squeeze, her ancient eyes filled with knowing. She had seen countless births in her lifetime. She understood. But still, fear gnawed at me, filling every corner of my mind.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I finally heard it—Noah’s voice outside, low and tense. Relief mixed with fear shot through me, and my head fell back against the pillows as I listened, straining to hear his words.

“It’s time, man,” Kenzo, Rika’s husband said, his tone bright and cheerful, though it barely registered with me.

But Noah’s voice, quieter, held something different. A knot of dread. I could feel it, even from where I was lying. He was scared. For the first time since this journey had begun, I realized that Noah—the man who had fought for me, protected me, never once wavered—was afraid. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face this.

“Noah,” Milla’s voice came from the doorway, soft but firm. “You need to be by her side. She needs you now.”

For a brief moment, Noah hesitated, as if unsure if he was even allowed to be there. I could almost picture him standing outside, paralyzed by fear, feeling utterly helpless. It was strange—this man who had always been so confident, now feeling as lost as I did.

He stepped through the door, and the room grew quieter, as if the world had been holding its breath for his arrival. The doors closed behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. He looked at me, and I saw the shock in his eyes. I was lying down, prepared for what was to come, but in that moment, I must have looked so fragile, so utterly different from the woman he was used to. My eyes were half-closed, unfocused, and I struggled to keep up with the pace of the pain that kept crashing over me in waves.

Noah knelt beside me, taking my hand in his, and suddenly, his presence made everything feel just a little more bearable.

“Baby?” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Through the haze of pain, I heard him, and my heart clenched. I turned my head toward him, blinking through the tears. 

“Noah,” I breathed. “The baby is coming.”

“I know. I know. It’s time, isn’t it?” Were his eyes watery as he tenderly smiled and moved some hair away from my forehead with his palm? 

I wanted to nod and smile but, but then my voice cracked with exhaustion and frustration as the next contraction tore through me. 

I screamed.

His face twisted in anguish.

“I’m so sorry,” he rushed to say, his voice trembling. “I didn’t know it was going to be this hard. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”

Across the room, Rika, who had been helping Milla with preparations, shot Noah a sharp look. 

“Noah!” she barked, her tone stern. “You’re not helping her.”

He blinked, startled, then nodded rapidly. 

“Yeah, right. Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. 

He straightened up, squeezing my hand more tightly, his face a mixture of panic and determination. 

“Okay, baby, listen to me. You’ve got this. You can do it. You need to push now, all right? Our baby wants to come out, and it needs your help. You’re strong, you can do it, I know. Now push. You’ve got to push.”

And so, I did. I gritted my teeth and bore down, the pressure overwhelming, the pain like nothing I’d ever experienced. Noah’s hand was firm in mine, his voice steady now as he guided me through the hardest moments of my life. Each push took everything I had, every ounce of strength I didn’t think I could muster, but Noah kept his eyes on me the whole time, kept talking, kept telling me how strong I was, how close we were.

I could hear the women’s voices around me, Rika and Milla encouraging me to stay strong, telling me it was almost time. Their words blurred together, just background noise to the sound of Noah’s voice and the pounding of my heart.

Finally, the pain reached its crescendo, and I felt the final push tear through me with a force I didn’t know I had left. Noah was right there, holding me, his eyes wide as he looked down at me, love and fear written all over his face.

“Push, baby,” he whispered one last time. “Just one more push.”

The world outside seemed to echo the chaos inside me. Through the walls of the house, I could hear Trouble howling, her voice raw and wild, piercing through the air. Her howls mixed with the frantic voices of the women around me, and everything felt as if it were spiraling out of control. My body was no longer my own—it was something caught in a storm, tossed and pulled by forces I couldn’t control.

Another contraction hit, and I let out a scream that tore from the deepest part of me. I gripped Noah’s hand so tightly, my knuckles white, as though he were the only thing tethering me to this earth. The room blurred, sounds became muffled, and the pain swallowed everything else. Trouble’s howls outside grew louder, almost mournful, as if she too could feel the chaos coursing through me.

“I can’t—Noah, it’s too much. I don’t think—” I cried, my voice strained and hoarse.

“You can,” Noah insisted, though his voice trembled, betraying his fear. His thumb rubbed small circles into my hand, trying to ground me. “You’re almost there. Our baby is almost here. You’re so close. Just one more push, sweetheart.”

Everything felt disjointed—Milla’s hands guiding me, Yumi’s soft murmurs of encouragement, the sound of the shutters being scratched from the outside by Trouble and her desperate howls still seeping through the cracks. It was too much. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths came in ragged gasps. I could feel the sweat pooling on my skin, dampening my hair, as the waves of pain crashed over me, relentless.

I felt like I was losing control, drowning under the weight of it all.

Then, out of the whirlwind of chaos, I heard Noah’s voice, softer this time, cutting through the noise. 

“I’m here. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes, searching for something—anything—to cling to. His face was a mixture of love and terror, his jaw tight, but his eyes were steady, fixed on me. He leaned in close, his forehead touching mine.

“Push,” he whispered. “One more push.”

With everything in me, I bore down, gritting my teeth against the agony that seemed to split me in two. Trouble howled again, her voice almost synchronizing with my own scream, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world was suspended in that single, agonizing moment.

Time seemed to collapse, and all I could feel was the raw force of life moving through me. The pain, the noise, the fear—all of it swirled into a cacophony, and just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, the pressure shifted, and suddenly, there was release.

A loud cry filled the room—small, sharp, and so precious—and everything stopped. Trouble’s howls ceased. The chaos around me faded into nothing, replaced by an overwhelming, breathtaking silence.

The world felt distant, like I was floating in a haze. The pain was still there, a dull ache in the background, but it was overshadowed by a deep sense of awe and exhaustion. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw wasn’t the room, or the people buzzing around me—it was a tiny, wrinkled baby, nestled carefully in my arms.

A baby girl.

Her face was scrunched up, her skin soft and pink, with the faintest tuft of hair on her head. She was beautiful in a raw, fragile way, the miracle that we had created, our daughter. I couldn’t stop staring, my breath catching in my throat as the weight of it all hit me. This was her. This was the life we had waited for, the one I had carried for months.

“Noah?” I whispered, barely able to tear my eyes away from our little girl. “It’s a girl. We made a girl.”

There was no response at first. I glanced up at him, expecting a reaction, but he was frozen, staring at the baby in my arms as if the world had stopped spinning. His lips parted slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief, taking in every detail of her—the small fingers, the way her tiny body fit snugly against me.

“Noah?” I said again, gently. “Do you want to hold her?”

Still silent, he finally moved, his hands trembling as he reached out. Carefully, oh so carefully, I placed our daughter into his arms. For a moment, he just looked at her as he held her kneeling on the futon, his breath uneven, his expression stunned. He held her close to his chest, cradling her in the crook of his arm as if she were made of the most delicate glass.

“She’s… tiny,” he murmured. “Like, very tiny.”

I smiled, warmth flooding my chest as I watched him—this strong, protective man who had spent months worrying over me, now completely undone by the sight of our tiny daughter. I leaned my head back on the futon, utterly drained but so happy, watching Noah hold our little girl like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Minutes passed, whispered conversations from Rika and Milla filled the background as they sorted things out, quietly making sure I was okay, tidying the space, checking on me. Occasionally, they asked for the baby to ensure she was healthy, but Noah wouldn’t let go of her, not even for a second. His eyes stayed locked on her, as if nothing else mattered. She wasn’t crying anymore, she was content just being a tiny, warm bundle nestled in her Papa’s arms, her little chest rising and falling softly.

After some time, Noah glanced down at me, his expression worrying as he noticed how tired I looked. He brushed some damp hair away from my face, his fingers warm and soothing.

“Love?” 

“Hm?” I responded, my voice barely more than a hum, utterly exhausted but content.

“She’s here,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Our baby girl is here. And she’s perfect, just like you. I can’t believe you did this.” His fingers traced gentle patterns on my forehead, his other arm still cradling our daughter securely against his chest. “I never thought I would feel this much happiness. Thank you.”

A soft, tired smile tugged at my lips as I closed my eyes. 

“It was worth it…” I said, my voice trailing off. “Everything we went through… it was worth it.”

Noah cradled our babygirl. The soft rise and fall of her breathing, the feel of her tiny hand curled against his chest—it was everything he—we—had ever dreamed of. Beside him, I was drifting into sleep, my body finally relaxing after the hours of labor.

But suddenly, the peace shattered.

It started as a sharp, burning pain deep in my abdomen, sudden and violent, like something was tearing apart inside me. My eyes shot open, and a scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it. It was primal, a sound I didn’t even recognize as my own.

Oh God, what was happening?

My muscles tightened in agony. I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All I knew was the pain. It was unbearable, consuming every inch of me. I heard Noah’s voice, panicked, but I couldn’t focus, couldn’t respond.

“What’s happening? Why is she in pain?” His voice trembled, desperate. “Baby? What is it?” 

I could hear the women moving around me, their hands gentle but quick as they pressed on my stomach, their words hurried but distant, like they were underwater. Everything was spinning, slipping. I could barely keep hold of my thoughts. Noah’s hand was on me—warm, strong—but the pain swallowed everything.

I heard the cries of my daughter next to me. And I screamed again.

“Do something!” Noah shouted at the women in the room.

“You need to step back,” Rika said to him, her voice firm but fading in and out. “We need to focus on her.”

“No!” His voice cracked, and through the haze, I heard him. “I’m not leaving her!”

I wanted to reach for him, to tell him I needed him, but I couldn’t. My hands felt useless at my sides. I felt his presence, could sense him so close, but I couldn’t open my eyes. The pain was too much, pulling me under, making it hard to breathe.

“I’m not leaving her! She needs me,” I heard him say, his voice broken. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Noah, we need to—”

“Tell me what’s wrong!”

“We don’t know!” she spat back. “Just let us do our job,” she continued as she tried to get him to step away.

“I said I’m not leaving her. Don’t make me leave her!”

I wanted to cry, to scream his name, but I couldn’t. I could only feel the burning agony spreading deeper, consuming me. My breathing came in ragged gasps, my chest tight. 

I could hear Rika and Milla exchange quiet, frantic words. That’s when I heard the shuffle, the loud whimpers of our babygirl, and Noah’s agonized voice.

“No,” he growled, a sound so raw, so desperate. “Don’t—don’t take her from me. Please. She needs to be with me. She needs to be with her mother.”

Rika stepped closer. 

“Noah, she needs care. Give her to us, and please, step outside.”

“No! No, no, no,” he choked, his words tangled in sobs. “She needs to be with me—I need to stay with them both.”

I tried to focus, to fight against the haze. I wanted to hold them, to tell him it would be okay, but my body wouldn’t listen…

I heard footsteps. The presence of more people in the room. Men. Rika’s husband and Milla’s. 

“Please,” Noah begged, his voice breaking as I heard the soft shuffle of our baby being lifted from his arms. His pain hit me like a wave. I could feel it, could hear his breathless cry. 

“Don’t! She’s my daughter! Please!” His voice cracked with grief as he struggled. “She needs me. She needs me!”

I felt her absence too. The warmth of her little body slipping from his arms and out of reach. It was like losing a part of me, a weight crushing my chest, making it harder to breathe.

“Noah,” Kenzo said, restraining him with his brother’s help. “You have to let them work.”

“No! I’m not leaving her! I’m not leaving them!” His cries were frantic as they tried to pull him back.

“Asher, help me!” Kenzo called out.

“No, please, don’t—don’t make me leave them!” Noah’s voice shook as I heard the struggle. He was fighting them, trying to stay, but I could hear the scrape of his boots on the floor as they dragged him away, Trouble’s howls intensifying outside.

“Noah, come on,” Asher said, his tone tight. “They need space to work.”

“I said I’m not leaving her!” Noah shouted, his voice hoarse, but even as he fought them, he was being pulled farther and farther from me. “Please, I need to help her. I need to be with her.”

I felt the door close. His voice, distant, muffled, was slipping from me, as if he was being dragged into some other world. And I couldn’t follow.

Taglist:

@girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel

@badomensls | @shilohrosechicken | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @concreteangel92 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

[basketballanonsblog]

Save the First Dance (for me)

Kicking off the revised masterlist with this one.

TW: brief mentions of character death but mainly bittersweet fluff.

Nayeon x reader

Synopsis: What else can you do but run to the woman who has been waiting so patiently for you?

You ran towards the gate, barely making it through the nightmare that is airport security.

Passengers on your flight were boarding, and everything up until now had gone wrong.

From sleeping through the alarm to spending at least half an hour looking for the passport you could've sworn you put on the bedside table the night before.

Nevertheless, you boarded the plane and were finally on your way home.

"Come back soon, I miss you."

Your leg bounced rapidly, revealing your restlessness. There was a sense of impending doom settling in your chest, as you realised the plane was over the Atlantic, making your blood run cold.

Even the slightest jolt of turbulence had you gripping the armrest tightly.

You will make it home this time.

You shook out of those thoughts before getting lost within the past.

Maybe stretching your legs would do you some good.

"Excuse me." Your poor seat mate nearly dropped their phone in shock.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Can I get past?"

She stared wide-eyed at you. Unnervingly, you may add.

"I'll take that as a no."

You didn't ask again, but waited until she fell asleep. Carefully, you climbed over her, but you didn't factor in the possibility of your foot getting stuck.

Which, of course, it did.

But you knew no one would be awoken by the commotion of you falling over.

What you didn't realise was that the woman had seen, forcing her to hold in laughter.

-◇-

No matter how much you waved, you weren't able to hail any of the taxis.

"Seriously?!" Your patience dwindled as the fifth one sped past.

A cab unexpectedly pulled up, but someone else opened the door.

It was the woman you sat next to on the plane.

She glanced at you, giving a minute signal for you to get in the car.

You realised in your journey that this kind stranger was the only person who looked directly at you.

-x-

You stood in front of her apartment building. You knew the code since you lived together, but you couldn't physically bring yourself to go in.

Later, you thought. She may not even be home.

As you wandered, you saw her again. Seriously, this was the third time in two days you bumped into this woman.

"We meet again..." She glanced around to see if you two were alone.

"Eun Jung."

"Y/n." You extended your hand to shake hers, but knew she couldn't take it.

"Did you find your sweetheart?"

The question took you aback. As you took Eun Jung's lack of response in the cab as a sign, she wasn't listening.

"Not yet."

"I know a lot of people, maybe I can help you find her."

"Considering she's Im Nayeon, I think she's well known around here."

"Im Nay...Hey! You could've mentioned that earlier!

"You didn't respond to anything I said! I took your silence as disinterest and changed the subject."

"Still, you dated the Im Nayeon."

Eun Jung realised who you were and began piecing everything together.

She wanted to help. Even if it was out of pity.

"Come on, I know where she is."

-◇-

It turns out that Twice has a performance today.

The two of you stayed far behind the crowd, and seeing her again made you feel so much.

She was smiling but wasn't entirely happy. You noticed the ring on her left hand.

A year later, she still wears it.

It was time to face the truth.

"She - " you glanced at your hands, hands you didn't want to admit were translucent. "She can't see me, can she?"

"No. No one can."

"Except you." She hummed in confirmation.

"Don't ask why because I don't know."

"I guess that explains why you don't respond when others are around. I noticed on the plane and in the car that my reflection wasn't there because I don't exist anymore." Your voice was tinged with resignation as you spoke, the reality setting in for the first time.

You continued watching the group when an idea occurred.

"Let me borrow your body." The poor woman almost choked on air.

Okay, maybe you shouldn't have been so abrupt.

"Eh?!"

"She might be able to see me if I'm in your body."

"Okay, first of all, ew." You rolled your eyes at her. "Secondly, I don't think it's a good idea. What if you get stuck? A lot of things can go wrong, and it might not even be possible."

She was right, but it didn't help in making you feel any less dejected.

Eun Jung began to feel guilty for shooting your idea down, but when she turned to apologise, you had disappeared.

-◇-

It didn't take her long to find you again since you ended up sitting opposite the Han River.

You two took in the view of the sunset.

"She's - was my fiancée. We were supposed to marry last summer, but a month before the wedding I had to go overseas for work. I tried hard to get out of it but couldn't. Thankfully, I managed to wrap things up a week early. I booked an earlier flight to surprise her, but obviously, I never made it back home."

"So that's why you were jittery during the flight."

"Yes."

"You're here now though, and we keep meeting; that has to mean something. We need to see Nayeon."

"It's pointless if she can't see or hear me."

"Trust me, you're destined to see each other once more."

"Just like how I was destined to die and never marry her?"

"Y/n. I'll get you two closure, even if it's the last thing I do. Now come on."

-◇-

Ghosts are useful in getting into places you shouldn't be. I'll remember that. Eun Jung thought as the both of you stood in front of Nayeon's apartment.

You were definitely trespassing, but that was the least of your worries.

Nayeon answered the door, and all you wanted was to hold her.

"Hello ma'am, I'm Eun Jung. You're probably wondering why I'm bothering you at this hour. I knew y/n, and I'd like to offer my condolences.

Nayeon was initially sceptical, but when she mentioned you, she beckoned her inside.

The other members were there too, and she had to resist asking for an autograph. It was amusing to see your new friend starstruck.

At first, Nayeon was eager to talk about you, but something was off. There were too many inconsistencies, and she knew what it looked like when a person was being coached. It made her suspicious about the stranger in her home.

As politely as she could, she tried to usher Eun Jung out, making her resort to plan B.

"Y/n is here! She's been here the whole time."

Will the pain of hearing your name ever fade? Nayeon asked herself.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" She didn't have time for cruel jokes.

"Please, you have to believe me. I'm aware I sound crazy, but I wouldn’t be here if I wasn't trying to help y/n."

The other members stepped in, getting ready to call the police.

Eun Jung was getting desperate. She tried to wrack her brain for a solution, but only one came to mind.

"Ugh fine! You can do it." But she wasn't talking to them.

"What?" You asked.

"Your brilliant idea from earlier."

"Really?"

"Yes! Now hurry before I change my mind, especially with the looks they're throwing at me."

Each of them were becoming confused and almost frightened at Eun Jung talking to herself.

"Thank you. I owe you one."

"Yeah, you do."

Your spirit merged with Eun Jung, setting off a cast of light. It felt weird to be back in a body.

Even if it wasn't your own.

You admired it, flexing your hands and fingers, reminding yourself how it felt to be human again.

Nayeon felt her legs give out. Fortunately, the members supported her. They looked to you in disbelief.

"Nayeon." The sound of your voice made her shiver.

"Y/n."

Cautiously, she approached you, and with the gentleness she yearned for terribly, you cupped her cheeks.

The world faded away when you leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed back softly but with so much passion.

You kissed through each other's tears, and you kissed over and over until your lungs were begging for air.

She hugged you when you finally broke apart.

"I missed you so much." If it was possible, she clung to you tighter.

"And I you, my love." You pulled back to run your thumb across her cheek. "I couldn't leave when I owe you a dance."

"Hold that thought."

She ran to the bedroom with the members, re-emerging a few minutes later in a wedding dress.

"You never got to see me wearing this until now." You broke down at that. You were robbed of the chance to see her walk down the aisle.

The heartbreak resonated with the members as they too began crying.

With her hand in yours, you danced together. Even if it was temporary, you let yourselves imagine it was your wedding day.

Music filled the apartment, the very song that would've played for your first dance as wives.

But like every fleeting yet perfect fantasy, it had to come to an end.

You began shining, which meant you found your closure.

It was time for your soul to be fully put to rest.

"My love -" Nayeon began sobbing again, clutching you tightly.

"No. Don't go, please stay. I can't lose you again."

You kissed the top of her head in an attempt to comfort her.

"I can't stay like this forever. That would be unfair to Eun Jung."

You separated from your friend, leaving her disorientated. Being a ghost's host body was exhausting.

Your spirit emitted so much light. Everyone could see you now, even without Eun Jung.

How cruel it is, Nayeon wondered. That she got to your experience, your touch, only for it to be ripped away from her a second time.

"It's okay, Nayeon. You don't have to feel guilty about moving on. Promise me you won't be afraid to find happiness."

"I promise." You couldn't wipe away her tears this time. "I love you."

"I love you too."

With one more look and smile at your friends and the love of your life, you faded away.

Nayeon's eyes shut as you disappeared, but she drew strength from the ones who held and stood by her through this.

She would not break her final promise to you.

[quaintii]

The CEO

A/N: the strip club scene from the movie, "Alice" and my dirty fantasies made me write this. I stood up for 4 hours revising this over and over so if there's mistakes, pls comment 😭 Hella long too 😭 word count is prob 4k?

Contents and warnings: breeding kink, hair pulling, choking, spanking, blackmail, remote-controlled vibrator, workplace setting, very very filthy smut <3

HEADER CREDITS ARE @mmadeinheavenn

Summary: You worked as a secretary to your CEO for a couple of months now and he was very cold to you and everyone else. You have a secret: you work as a stripper in a prestigious strip club.

You work at Alchemax main building, you're a main secretary for Miguel O'Hara, the CEO in charge. You always greet him with a happy energy every morning, though he doesn't bother to return it back. You find him very cold. You try refusing that you didn't want to take a bite out of him or for him to break you because of his tone and stern glare whenever his eyes would meet yours. The tension between you two was thick. But you ignored it. You still kept your composure whatsoever whenever you would glance at him being furious, he would lash out his anger back at you whenever a meeting didn't go through. Deep down, you enjoyed the degradation, rushing hot blood to your cunt, pulsing."Ms. L/N, seriously you have to keep up with the latest specific studies, you can't keep coming in here turning in reports that were beyond due! Are you sure you're staying focused on this job, Ms? I will have to fire you if you dare make me lose another opportunity for growth of this company." He said with an angry sigh. "Sorry, Mr. O'Hara, I've just been busy with personal issues lately and I don't mean to push aside my work, ever! I'll make sure to meet your expectations next time." You say with confidence. "Okay, one last try. Or you're fired. Get out of my office."

He said while keeping his eyes on his computer. You nod and excuse yourself, walking towards the door, he turns his eyes to your body. Eyeing you up and down. He once again sighed angrily. He wanted you badly even since you first walked through that door. He would jerk himself in the middle of the night, wanting to thrust inside your pretty cunt til you were cock-drunk. Wanting to feel your hot walls wrapping around his cock, sucking him in like a vacuum. Begging for more. He couldn't stop thinking of you. On the other hand, you still push through his grumpy side, just for the money. Besides working this job, you have a small side hustle to gain more money. You wouldn't say you're greedy, you're just meeting your own needs. You thought to yourself if you possibly had an exhibitionism kink…probably.

At midnight, you work at a high prestige strip club, teasing men with your lascivious body. You wore almost nude outfits, begging to be ripped off your brown skin. Tonight you were by far exhausted from the calculations from work, and working as a stripper helped you ease down. You would keep your identity hidden with a wig and do your makeup a different way. You placed on your blonde wig in the dressing room, you wore some black and red lingerie that was decorated with soft silky satin finishes. It was completely exposing, besides your nipples - which had nipple covers on them, hearts to be exact. One of your companions on stage came up to you, "Hey girl, guess who we have today?" "What? Those musty middle-aged men again?" You laugh off. "No..we have a vip here. He seems really hot." She giggled. "Penny, you know that VIPs wear masks right? How could one be hot while wearing a masquerade mask? I'm pretty sure you're just bluffing, don't be a tease, babe." You said while sighing. "Whatever you say, just giving a heads up that I'm going to take him tonight." She said with a squeal.

You were waiting in line for your turn to perform, though things changed as your boss said you had a pole stage all to yourself. "You're one of my favorites and I think you'll lure in the VIP, this is very big for this company, so do well." He said and walked off. Only the best could perform on this stage, as a teen you practiced a lot of flexibility and dancing. Who would've known it'd taken you here, at this moment. As you walk past the curtains, you lean by the walls, posing yourself. You walk slowly to the spotlight by the pole and do some spins and a split, opening your legs to your clothed cunt towards the audience.

Lots of woahs echo in your ears, afterall you were the best one here. You tried to remember what the chick from earlier said, you kept trying to find a man with a masquerade mask but you couldn't. Until you faced your eyes towards the low, lighted bar. He was focusing on your body and face. You sneakily changed your position to face him, swaying your hips to the song, seductively going lower and lower. You raise yourself by your legs hanging on the pole, doing some twists. The man takes a sip of some alcohol then signaling you to come towards where he was. You finished off your show and a lot of groans were heard. As you approached the man in the mask, everyone's eyes were on you. You finally see this man's figure and he was towering. You almost stumbled back because he seemed so frightening. He grabbed your wrist harshly and headed towards the vip lounge rooms. To the last row at the very end is where you were taken. "Quítate la ropa," he said with a grating tone. (Take off your clothes.)

You disobeyed him as it did seem too fast for you, so you did a little teasing. You faced your ass upfront to his crotch. Straddling him slowly with your hips. You heard light groans but nothing more than that. You figured out a way for him to get more pleased. You started giving him a lap dance. Moving your ass upfront to his face. Arching your back on the table that you laid on top. You would move your hips to the side, still teasing, but you stopped as soon as you heard a rough voice whispering in your ear, "No me hagas eso muñeca, yo no la haría si era tu. Quiero ver tu coño." (Don't do that to me doll, I wouldn't do that if I were you. I want to see your cunt.) He said while nibbling your ear. Shivers were sent down to your spine, doing so, you removed your panties and spread your legs at him. "Feliz?" (Happy?) You said in a low tone. "No, quiero que volteretas tu coño y culo a mi, corazón." (No, I want you to turn around and face your pussy and ass towards me, love.) He said with a grinning smile.

Those nicknames drove you wet to your core a bit, so you decided to push his limit. "Y que me pasó si no lo hago casó?" (And what will happen if I don't listen?) You said giggling. You suddenly gasp as you keep his bodyweight laying down on yours onto the satin sofa, feeling his crotch, a huge bulge against your ass. "No te va gustar mucho, amor." He rubbed his hips against yourself, you pushing your ass to his hips, hoping to relieve some friction on your cunt. He moved himself and slapped your ass harshly. You yelp out a moan. "¿Quién te dijo que puedes hacer eso? Yo soy quien mando, cariño. Te gusta eso?" (Who said you could do that? I'm the one in charge here, love. You like that?) He said while snickering softly.

You turn your head around and nod slowly. You bite your swollen lip, your cunt now dripping in slicked wetness. The mysterious man then placed a finger, moving them to your clit. You moan in relief. "F-fuck, please fuck me sir, please…" "Look how wet you are for me..you're such a dirty slut." He said while landing another slap on your ass, making you jerk forward and whimper. "Turn around for me." You do as he said, biting your lips, hoping for something exciting. That is until you notice his mask is off, and your blood runs cold. Your face burns up with embarrassment and you covered your cunt with your hands. "Mr.O'Hara, I didn't know it was you, how did you even find me here, I-i." He placed a finger on your lips, quickly shutting you up. "I know everything about you. Here, take this and wear it tomorrow for the presentation. If you don't, I'll have to fire you for moral turpitude. Looking like dirty, fucking, slut at night and working at my office in day like a good girl." He said, whispering into your ears.

His hot breath and voice once again sparked fire down your core. He quickly left you alone in the lounge room, leaving you to your own rapid thoughts. You couldn't stop hyperventilating from what just happened, you can't afford to get fired! Your whole record would be ruined for doing something so indecent. You couldn't hate yourself more than right now. Round the corner, a red box catches your eyes. You proceed to open it and it's a remote controlled vibrator, though the remote, you assumed, he had. You placed the pieces together and realized you had to wear this to the next presentation meeting. You couldn't let your record get ruined, let alone knowing your boss telling others of what you do at night. You had to face it and put up with it.

The next day, you kept staring at the vibrator. You were nervous, sweat droplets spreading across your face. What if it falls off during the presentation? What if someone could hear the vibrations? You kept wondering about so many endless scenarios about the 'What if.' You took a deep sigh and placed it in your cunt. It was cold against your warm pussy. It felt quite uncomfortable. As you walked to Mr. O'Hara's office, you couldn't gather the courage to even knock on his door nor look at his face after last night. But you did so anyway. "Here are the reports for today, Mr. O'Hara. I made sure they're all good for the presentation soon." You said timidly. "Perfect, thank you Ms. L/N, I hope you remember what I told you last night. Let's see how well you do today, if you fail I'll just have to fire you." He said with a cold tone but with a hint of amusement. You audibly gasped and faced him. His eyes already magnetized onto yours, eyeing you up and down.

You felt yourself getting aroused again, his sculpted features drew you in further. Your mind brings back how his crotch felt against your hips, he was rock hard and it felt heavenly. "I-I made s-sure of that, Mr. O'Hara." You kept stumbling over your words, causing you to scream inside. "Great, you can head out now." He said while grinning. Still eyeing you. You excuse yourself and quickly get out of there, you felt like there was no air in your lungs, you placed your palms on your face wondering how bad this could possibly go. You cursed under your breath.

The presentation was starting, Mr. O'Hara was doing the first couple of slides then you had the rest to yourself. Unfortunately, the presentation was 10 slides long. Many prestigious men entered the room, greeting one another. You sit by Mr. O'Hara's chair, his chair being right in the middle in the very back, facing the board. About 20 minutes pass, and it's your turn to present. "Welcome to Alchemax, I would like to provide you guys with an amazing proposal that would benefit both sides of our companies." You said while switching your eyes with the representatives and Miguel. You see something shift in his suit, and you jolt as you feel the vibrations on. You almost stumble on the floor by the unexpected vibrations. "Sorry about that, probably something I ate this morning. Stomach ache!" You say trying to brush off your jolting. You start with your first slide, glaring at Miguel whenever he would turn on and off the vibrating.

Your cunt was dripping wet. You wanted more vibrations even if you were to embarrass yourself right now and risk your job. You tried your best to pay no attention to how Miguel's eyes would light up dark red, giving you an erotic stare. As if he was unclothing you with his eyes. Watching you break all over something small, he wondered how badly you'd break around his cock, using your body like a a slut you are. As you kept speaking, the vibrations kept increasing which caused you to stutter multiple times. "Excuse me miss, is something ok?" Asked a representative. "Oh I'm sure it's just nothing, don't worry." You smile softly. You then glare at Miguel, for embarrassing you during your big project. But deep down, you enjoyed it. You coughed and continued your presentation. The vibrator started fastening more, your clit becoming sensitive as time went by. It felt like the slided wouldn't come to an end, you felt wobbly to your knees.

You tried your best to not fall and keep your professional composure. Small tears streaked down your cheeks, you had hoped they were unnoticed. You felt like coming until it finally stopped. You let out a small growl, staring at Miguel in dissatisfaction. You were finally done with your presentation which felt like ages. The moment you sat down, Miguel increased it to it's highest speed. You jolted, your nerves and blood rushing through your system. You let out a stifled moan, and proceeded to play it out as a cough. Now that you're sitting, the vibrator is hitting your clit even harder. You felt like the pleasure was going to leave you unconscious because it just felt so good. You had half-lidded eyes looking at Miguel, begging for him to stop but he just smirked at you. You bit the inside of your cheeks, drawing out blood, you kept holding in your moans and breathing heavily.

You felt like your eyes were rolling back to your head. You just rested your head on the chair's head support. Your throat felt like it was about to let out a loud moan and you choked on your saliva. You couldn't hold it in anymore, so you hurriedly left the room and ran to the bathroom. Miguel still kept the vibrator on it's highest setting which made you stumble on the way onto the floor the moment you made it to the bathroom. You placed your arms on the sink, holding yourself up as you felt your cunt pulsing and spasming around the device, finally letting out your moans. Your legs were wobbly and you finally came.

Your breathing became unstable-like, you tried your best to regulate it back. You started at yourself in the mirror, how could you do something so foolish and be caught up in this situation? You pulled off the device and flushed it down the toilet. You finally thought it was over and you could keep your job. That is until you open the door, Miguel immediately barging in and grabbing your waist towards his chest. He closed the door behind him. "God you should've seen how you looked squirming, princess. You looked adorable, you're such a good girl y'know? You should be rewarded." "Miguel, please let this be over…" You gave out more moans as he massaged your breasts. "Todavía no, cariño. Te quiero conmigo, quiero usar tu cuerpo y saber tu precioso coño.." (Not yet love, I want to be with you, use your body and taste your pretty pussy.)

He gruffed as he sucked onto your neck. "Mhmmf.. M-miguel, please…" You whimpered out. "Be a good slut for me, do that for me." He grabbed a hold of your throat, lifting towards his face. His eyes lit up with lust. Your brain was starting to fog up. "Si..Miguel..mmhgfm fuck, please fuck me Miguel." You say with a strained voice as his fingers grip your throat tighter. "Tenga cuidado con lo que pides, amor. Porque ya no puedo detenerme más." (Be careful with what you ask for, love. Because I would be able to hold myself back anymore.) You jumped and wrapped you legs around his waist and hips, his arms holding you up as you wrap your hands around his neck.

The both of you kiss hungrily each other, as if your life depended on it. Both of your lips finally left go to breathe. You stare at his lips and eyes with your lust filled, low lidded eyes. "Miguel, put your cock inside of me, p-please.." You whimper and suck on his neck. He leans his head back and he groans which makes your cunt pulse. "Sé una buena chica para mí, cariño. Quiero que me la chupes. Dios, tengo tantas ganas de cogerte ahora mismo. Mira lo que me haces muñeca.." (Be a good girl for me, baby. I want you to blow me. God, I want to fuck you so bad right now. Look what you do to me doll…) You obey and go on your knees. You lower his zipper and his boxers.

His cock springs out, the base is dark brown while his tip is a pinkish brown. It was leaking with pre-cum, begging to be sucked on. You kitten-licked the tip - teasingly by giving it small kisses on the head. Miguel looks down at you, he could barely control himself to the point he wants to throat fuck you til you can't breathe. You then take half of him in your warm mouth, swirling your tongue around his length. He grabs ahold of your head and leans back on a wall, keeping himself standing. "Mierda.. tu boca.." (Fuck.. your mouth.) He cursed under his breath. You hollow your cheeks and you take more of him as your throat relaxes. He reluctantly bucked his hips, causing you to choke. You loved how his cock tasted, how it felt full in your mouth. You started fastening and Miguel lost full control.

He grabbed your hair and bucked his hips harshly. Hid hips spasming."F-fuck your mouth feels like heaven, amor. Fuck you're taking me so well…such a dirty slut." He moaned. You looked up at him with teary eyes, the sound of sucking echoed. You were squirming and pressuring your thighs together. When you moaned, he loved how tight your throat would get. You felt that he was about to come so you hollow your cheeks even more. He looked down at you, and he finally pumped his semen down your throat, it felt hot and bittersweet. You finally detach your mouth from his dick but licking all of him clean.

It caused something in Miguel to completely break. He grabbed you up and removed your skirt and panties. He bent your back, you arched it even further as he slapped your ass harshly, making you jerk forward. He placed you In Front of a tall mirror. "I want you to look how I fuck you..how good I fucking make you feel. No one will ever make you feel this good. Your pussy is fucking mine." He says while biting on your shoulders with his fangs. He removed all of his clothes and removed your top. "Look at your fucking tits, all of me. Mierda..." He drew out blood and sucked it dry. He lines up his dick In Front of your cunt, teasing it. You couldn't wait anymore, you were too desperate for him to pound you without mercy. Making a complete mess of you til you couldn't walk.

He pinched your perked nipples, making you shiver and bite down on your swollen lip. You look at the mirror, he keeps eyeing you, he would never remove his eyes off of your body. He slapped your ass and moved his mouth to your breasts. Sucked them like it was the last time with you. You let out loud moans."M-miguel please, I want your fucking cock inside of me..please I want you inside of me so bad. P-please..f-fuck." You whimper. He smirked devilishly. "Where do you want me, cariño.." He huffed out. "Inside of my fucking pu-." You were interrupted as he slams his cock inside of you, keeping a steady pace, your throat chokes continuously on your moans, it felt so fucking good. All of the air in your lungs left, you felt him touching your insides. Your cunt pulsing and squeezing him while he pulled out and thrusted into you even harder. You placed your hands onto the mirror, gasping and moaning.

Chanting Miguel's name incoherently like a prayer. You wanted him to ruin you, you wanted to be his cum dumpster. "F-fuck mmhfm m-miguel please stop..s'too much. Fuck..aughmmhffm…" You moaned out in gasps. "Look how slutty you look, taking in my cock so good like a good slut. Such a good girl, your pussy keeps sucking me in princessa..f-fuck.." He moans. He grabs your throat, making you face yourself In Front of the mirror. Your mouth was agape, eyes rolled back to your skull, making erotic sounds that caused Miguel's cock to harden even more. Both of your bodies were sweating and heaving, making the room atmosphere thicken. You were so cock-drunk, your brain couldn't form coherent thoughts, let alone words.

The only thing you could think was his dick inside of you, deep. You arched your back even more, allowing him to dig deeper inside of your warm pussy. You felt like you were going to fucking collapse by the amazing pleasure. That was until he pulled out. "F-fuck.. I want everyone to see what a dirty slut you are." He huffed and kissed you hard. "M-miguel, what if someone sees us." You said with a worried tone. "Don't you like that? Don't you like to be seen being fucked by me, all inside your pussy, amor?" You nod and whimper. "Y-yes Miguel.." He opens the bathroom door and heads to his office, gathering all the clothes and placing them on his couch. Fortunately, no one was on the floor. He grabs you by the throat, gripping it harder. He slammed your body onto the desk, causing paperwork to fall but you couldn't care less now. Your face and tits were planted on the cold desk, sending shivers down your spine.

Miguel pulled your hips upward, making you arch. He used his fingers to separate your lips and see your glistening cunt. He inserted his fingers inside your pussy and you moaned. He took them out to taste them and he almost came from it alone. You tasted so sweet, like a forbidden fruit. Your pussy pulsated and clenched around nothing, begging for some attention. "Miguel I want your cock inside of me again, please.." You whimpered. "Be a good girl and wait." He licked your pussy up and down and rubbed your clit. You stretch your neck, feeling so good and moaning that your voice was so strained. He slaps your pussy, making you jolt forward. He then grabs you by the waist and pushed your body against the sky high windows. "I want everyone to see how good I'm fucking you..you like that don't you?" He said while smirking. "Y-yes Miguel please fuck my dirty pussy already. Fuck me til I can't breathe." You groaned.

He slammed into your cunt once again, suddenly making you let out a loud strained moan. You kept cursing and yelling his name. Your moans would only get louder as he rubbed his thumbs up and down on your clit, pressing on it hard. His other hand pinched your nipples while his mouth landed on your neck. Your back arched back to his chest, causing him to reach your soft, squishy walls that you thought were unreachable. You could barely control your body's weight. Miguel grabbed both of your hips and bent your back even more. Your face against the window causes it to fog up. His cock slammed harder inside of you, deeper. His claws deepened on your hips. He slammed up into you at a much faster pace than before, hitting all the places he knew you loved. “Eres mia... Mia y mia solo,” (You're mine, mine and mine only.) Miguel whispered into your ear before kissing the skin below it.

His voice had lost its cold underlining, whining out as his hips stuttered. Miguel's hips rocked still before he let out a soft sigh, his cum painted your walls perfectly. You writhed under his large body, riding your own orgasm as he continued to rub your clit. Coming down to a stop you sighed as your body shook at the intensity. "You're my little cum slut, aren't you? Yeah you like it when I fill your pussy up with my cum don't you?" Miguel slowly pulled out, shoving his fingers into me immediately, making my back arch. He pumped his cum back inside of my pussy. You collapse from overstimulation. You wake up a few hours later on a soft bed. An arm wraps around you. You felt warm and cared for. You look up and see Miguel sleeping. He looked beautiful. You want something to happen between the two of you and hopefully become a couple. You moved closer to him and placed a kiss on his cheek and he suddenly placed one on your forehead.

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 1

SUMMARY: When you're offered the chance to work as a hair and makeup artist on Top Gun 3, it feels like a dream come true. Leaving behind your routine for a Hollywood blockbuster, you arrive on set with high hopes but little expectation of the whirlwind to come. That all changes the day you meet Glen Powell—charming, grounded, and quick to make an impression. As your professional relationship grows, so does a spark between you, but you're still keeping things strictly work. For now, the only thing you're certain of is that this job will be like no other.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Anon who sent me this request and gave me the idea. I'm really hoping I can take your idea and do it justice. I think this will end up being around 4 parts. But if I feel like I need to make it longer or shorter I'll adjust as I finish revising it.

WARNINGS: None.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

TAG LIST: @omgbrianabomgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 I @saucy-sassy-sparkly  I  @alipap3  I  @dudinhastuff  I  @lunatygerqueen  I  @hookslove1592  I  @glenpowellluver  I  @missmarveledsblog

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The email came through on a Wednesday afternoon, catching your attention amidst a relatively slow workday. The subject line read: “Film Contract Inquiry – Urgent Response Requested.” As you clicked it open, your curiosity piqued instantly. The production team was interested in hiring you as a hair and makeup artist for an upcoming film. But unlike most offers you’d received in your career, this one was cloaked in secrecy.

You scanned the email again, focusing on the specific wording. Top secret. No details were given about the film itself, just the fact that you would be based primarily in Southern California, near San Diego, for a total of twelve weeks. The cryptic message hinted that you might also be required to travel for a few additional shoots at other undisclosed locations if needed.

While these types of jobs were nothing new to you—you’d been working on movie sets for over a decade—this one had a different feel. 

For one, they didn’t even mention the title of the project. 

And the compensation offer attached to the email? Far beyond anything you’d ever been offered before. You leaned back in your chair, letting the numbers sink in. They clearly wanted the best for this film, and the pay confirmed it was going to be something big.

But how big? The secrecy surrounding the whole thing was hard to ignore. There wasn’t even a mention of the production company involved, and everything was handled through private communication channels. 

Not only that, but they'd already sent over a non-disclosure agreement for you to sign. Until the movie was officially released, you wouldn’t be able to discuss a single detail—not the actors, not the plot, not even the locations.

The NDA felt like a weight in your inbox, staring back at you as you reread the email for the third time. Something about this film was different, and it intrigued you. Whatever it was, it had to be major if they were going to these lengths to protect it. And with that thought in mind, you clicked “Reply” and began typing.

* * * *

The flight to San Diego was uneventful, and the California sunshine greeted you as soon as you stepped out of the terminal. You quickly spotted a driver holding a sign with your name on it. After introductions, you handed over the address they’d provided, ready for the next step of this mysterious journey.

As the car began weaving through the busy San Diego streets, you took in the sights—the familiar palm trees, the ocean in the distance, the hustle of a city on the coast. You’d worked in Southern California plenty of times, but something about this trip felt different. The secrecy still clung to you like a shadow.

The driver made small talk, but you were too focused on the location to fully engage. It wasn’t until you noticed the roads becoming less crowded, the landscape shifting from city to something more… official, that your curiosity spiked. Fences lined the road now, and you could see uniformed personnel at several checkpoints as the car continued.

A military base?

Your heart skipped a beat as realization dawned on you. You leaned forward, squinting out the window at the upcoming sign confirming your suspicion: Naval Air Station North Island.

The driver pulled up to the security gate, handing over the proper identification and passes. After a brief exchange with the guard, the car was waved through.

You sat back in your seat, processing. So, this film has something to do with the military. That narrowed it down, but not by much. There were plenty of military-themed movies out there, but none that warranted this level of secrecy. You thought back to the emails, still trying to piece together what kind of project could possibly be in the works.

The car came to a stop outside a large set of trailers tucked behind an aircraft hangar. Military personnel and crew members bustled around, a few actors you didn’t yet recognize standing in clusters nearby. The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, but still, no one gave anything away.

The driver helped unload your bags, and you thanked him before making your way toward one of the trailers you’d been instructed to report to. A sense of unease mixed with anticipation settled in your chest. You were about to find out what all the mystery was about.

With your equipment in tow, you approached the door to the hair and makeup trailer, pausing just long enough to take a breath before stepping inside. Whatever you’d signed on for, you were about to find out—whether you were ready or not.

You stepped inside the trailer, greeted by the familiar scent of hairspray and cosmetics. The space was bustling with activity—mirrors lined with bright lights, makeup kits neatly arranged, and hair styling tools humming in the background. Three other stylists were already there, each at their own station, chatting quietly as they organized their gear.

You scanned the room for an empty spot, finding a vacant station near the back. The butterflies in your stomach settled as you began unpacking your kit, laying out your brushes, combs, and palettes with the same precision you did before any project. Your hands moved with a practiced ease, though your mind was still racing with questions about the film. You tried to brush it off as first-day nerves, but the secrecy of it all still gnawed at you.

A couple of minutes passed before one of the stylists, a brunette with sleek hair pulled into a tight ponytail, approached you with a friendly smile. “You must be the new hire for this project. I’m Katherine,” she said, extending a hand.

“Hi." You said as you gave her your name and shook her hand.

“Welcome! You’ll love this crew,” she said, gesturing to the others who were busy in their own areas. "We’re still settling into the schedule, but it’s a great team." She paused, lowering her voice slightly, “Though this project is next-level crazy, right? So much secrecy.”

You nodded, laughing softly. “I know, right? I’ve never had to sign so many NDAs before starting a job.”

Just as you were about to ask more, the door swung open, and a crew member entered, holding a stack of papers. He looked around before making his way toward you. “I’ve got your list of actors and the schedule for this week.”

“Thanks,” you said, accepting the documents from him.

He gave you a quick nod before heading out, leaving you alone with the list in hand. You glanced down, scanning the schedule you and the other hair and makeup artists would be following. Then you notice the names that are listed.

Tom Cruise. Miles Teller. Glen Powell.

Your eyes widened slightly as recognition hit. You’d heard those names before—especially from Top Gun: Maverick. You looked up from the paper, your heart picking up its pace again. Could it be?

Before you could process it further, you overheard one of the other stylists—Lily—speaking to Katherine in a hushed tone. "I think I saw Tom Cruise on set earlier. They’ve kept it under wraps, but... it’s definitely Top Gun 3."

Your breath caught in your throat. Top Gun 3.

It clicked. The secrecy. The military base. The list of actors. This wasn’t just some random movie set—it was one of the biggest sequels in recent history. You were part of Top Gun.

You tried to keep your face neutral, but inside you were buzzing with excitement. Top Gun 3. You had landed a job on one of the most anticipated movies ever. You looked back down at your list, realizing that you would be working with some of the biggest names in Hollywood over the next few weeks—one of them being Glen Powell.

Your mind raced as you processed it all, but you kept your cool. This was your job, and you needed to stay professional, no matter how starstruck you might be. You took a deep breath, refocused, and went back to setting up your station, knowing that your first day on Top Gun 3 was just beginning.

You were adjusting the lighting at your station when the trailer door creaked open again. You didn’t pay much attention at first, focusing on getting everything perfect for the day ahead. But then, you heard a familiar voice—a low, playful tone that filled the room with ease.

"Is this where the magic happens?"

You looked up, and there he was—Glen Powell, standing in the doorway with a laid-back smile on his face. He was taller than you expected, dressed in casual workout gear, his hair its natural shade, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. Your first task was to lighten Glen’s hair a few shades to look a little more naturally sun-faded than his darker natural color.

His eyes landed on you, and for a brief moment, there was a spark—an instant recognition of something unspoken.

"Yep, this is where we make the magic happen," you responded, grinning as you set your tools down.

Glen walked over to your station, his posture relaxed yet confident. “You must be the one in charge of turning me into Hangman 2.0.”

You chuckled, motioning for him to take a seat in the chair. “I guess I am. Ready to go a few shades lighter?”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a seat in the chair with a smirk. “Let’s see what you’ve got. I’m trusting you with my hair, so no pressure, right?”

“Oh, none at all,” you quipped, rolling your eyes playfully as you grabbed the bleach kit. “Just a couple of hours and we’ll make you camera-ready. Shouldn’t be too painful.”

The banter was light, but the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable. Even though this was your first time meeting, the interaction felt natural, as though you’d known each other for longer. Glen was easygoing, and you found yourself smiling more than you expected as you worked.

As you began sectioning off his hair, you asked, “So, are you nervous about going blond again? Or is this just another day in the life of Glen Powell?”

He leaned back in the chair, his grin widening. “I won’t lie, the last time I did this, I felt like I ended up looking like an extra from Legally Blonde. But hey, if you’re the one doing it, I’m sure it’ll turn out great.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I promise, no Legally Blonde vibes. Just a subtle lightning. You’ll still look like Hangman.”

Across the trailer, a few of the other makeup artists glanced over, their eyes darting between you and Glen, smiling knowingly. Sarah, one of the artists working on another actor, shot you a teasing look before leaning over to her client, Jay Ellis, who raised an eyebrow in Glen’s direction. You overheard a soft chuckle from Jay as Sarah whispered something.

Glen, oblivious to the side glances, watched you carefully as you applied the bleach, a casual silence settling between you for a few moments before he broke it again. “So, how’d you end up on this project? You’ve got to be pretty top-tier if they brought you onto Top Gun.”

You glanced at him, surprised at the question. "I've been in the business for a while. Special effects makeup is kind of my specialty, but I do all kinds of stuff. They contacted me about this job, and it was all very hush-hush until I got here."

He tilted his head, clearly impressed. "Well, looks like we’re in good hands.”

You felt a subtle warmth in your chest at the compliment, though you brushed it off quickly. “Just doing my job,” you replied, grabbing a small brush to touch up a few sections of his hair. “Anyway, you’ve got the easy part today. They’re filming inside, so minimal makeup. Just enough so you don’t look like a ghost on camera.”

He chuckled. “Don’t want to scare anyone off with my Casper-like complexion.”

As you continued working on his hair, the conversation flowed easily. You asked him about his last few projects, and he asked about yours in return, keeping the tone light and casual. There was something effortless about talking to him, and it made the time fly by faster than expected.

When the bleaching was done and his hair was the perfect shade of lighter blond, you gave it a final check in the mirror. “Well, what do you think?” you asked, turning the chair slightly so he could see the result.

He inspected his reflection, his eyes lighting up in approval. “I’ve got to say, you nailed it. No Elle Woods here.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Told you.”

With his hair done, you moved on to the makeup—just enough to prevent any washout under the bright lights. It was quick and simple, a few strokes here and there, but even as you applied it, the easy conversation continued.

“You know,” Glen said suddenly, as you brushed a bit of powder on his face, “for someone working in Hollywood, you’re pretty laid back. I’ve had stylists who barely talk and are just all about the job, and then there’s you—who’s actually, you know, fun.”

You laughed softly at his words, feeling the compliment slip into the air between you. “Well, I try. I’ve learned that being chill makes the day go by smoother.”

He smirked, his gaze locking onto yours for just a beat too long. “Good policy.”

There it was again—something between you that neither of you acknowledged aloud, but it lingered, making the air feel slightly heavier in the best way. A moment passed, and you stepped back, finishing the last of his touch-ups.

“All done,” you said, stepping back to clean your brushes. “You’re officially camera-ready.”

He stood from the chair, taking a quick look in the mirror again. “Not bad at all. You’re good at this.”

“Thanks,” you replied, flashing a small smile. “Just don’t mess it up too much before they get you on camera.”

He chuckled, his eyes catching yours once more before he turned toward the door. “No promises.” And with that, he gave you a playful wink and left the trailer, leaving you with a slight smile lingering on your lips. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Sarah leaned over with a knowing look. “Looks like you and Glen are gonna get along just fine.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “It’s just work,” you said, though the butterflies in your stomach told a slightly different story.

Jay chimed in again, smirking. “Yeah, sure. But I’d say that was the most fun Glen’s had in a makeup chair in a long time.”

[heavenlylie]

unwinding tensions

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: you and tara hadn’t had much time together lately because of finals and seeing how stressed you are, she decides to make you forget about everything for just one night.

warnings: smut (+18), fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dom!tara + sub!reader

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i've never wrote smut, so please bear with me on this one <3

"I'm gonna go take a shower." You said looking towards your bed where your girlfriend Tara was laying on her stomach going over her revisions for finals.

"Yeah, just don't take long," She said without looking up from her notebook, "We've barely had time to see each other this week and I need to be home by nine."

You stopped dead in your tracks, looking back at the brunette "What? That's in like, an hour," You said with wide eyes when you checked the time on your phone "Tell Sam I'll drop you off at 11. I promise you won't be a minute late." Tara sighed, her eyes hovering over the towel wrapped around your body "What? The worse she can say is no, in that case, I'll take you home after I shower."

You said leaning on the bathroom door, Tara blinked rapidly, snapping out of her thoughts, quickly grabbing her phone and dialling her sister's number "She's gonna kill us, you know?" She said chuckling while waiting for Sam to pick up the phone. 

As soon as Sam picked up, you sat on your bed beside Tara so you could listen to the conversation "Come on Sam! It's almost finals week, and we haven’t been able to spend time together, it's just two more hours, please?"

Tara was frustrated, it was obvious that her sister wasn’t budging, she sighed. "Let me talk to her." You whispered, hoping that somehow you'd be able to convince the older Carpenter. She wasn’t your number one fan but she had been more accepting of your relationship with her sister in the past few weeks.

Which was an improvement since you'd been dating the smaller girl for almost a year now and she still hadn’t warmed up to you.

Tara waved you off, rolling around your bed, and then she looked back at you "Go shower." She mouthed, you sighed and got up from the bed.

As you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn't help but feel a bit stressed out. You and Tara had barely spent time together in the past few days because of college, and also because her sister wasn’t one hundred percent fond of you yet. So any time you had together was like a blessing lately.

As you turned on the water and stepped into the shower, you tried to shake off your worries and focus on the warm water cascading down your skin. But your peace was short-lived.

Just as you were about to grab the shampoo, you heard a knock on the bathroom door. "Hey, babe, can I come in?" Tara's voice called out softly from the other side of the door.

"Uhm, sure." you replied, feeling a little thrown off. It's not like Tara had never come into the bathroom while you were showering before, but this just wasn’t a good time since you needed to take her home soon and you didn’t have time for distractions.

You heard the door open and Tara's footsteps approaching the shower curtain. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, pulling back the curtain without waiting for an answer.

Before you could respond, she had stepped in the shower, naked and with a wicked grin on her face, pushing you against the nearest wall, hard enough to send vibrations through your body but not to hurt you. She kissed you so passionately and so quickly that you didn’t have time to properly react to her getting in the shower with you in the first place.

You quickly kissed her back with the same passion, her hands found their way to your waist and began to explore the rest of your shower-wet skin, she let out a soft moan and yet another kiss, trailing down to your neck, leaving a line of kisses from your lips to your collarbone.

You quickly pulled her hair tie, letting her long, wavy hair fall down her shoulders in dripping wet waves. You ran your hands through her hair as she moved her head down, her lips hovering over your breasts, her tongue sticking out to lick your nipples.

A soft moan escaped your lips, Tara's grin not leaving her face, she pulled away and looked you deep in the eyes "I want you," she said with a seductive tone, making you shiver, then she kissed you again.

You could feel yourself getting wet against her as she pulled back to look at you again, a soft smirk on her lips, quickly both your lips were back on each other’s, kissing hard and passionately again.

Tara wrapped her arms around your neck, while you grabbed her ass and pulled her a bit closer to you. Her left hand found its way down to your pussy, while her right hand was still wrapped around your neck, keeping you close to her body.

You let out a surprised gasp into Tara's mouth, as she pushed her fingers into your entrance wet with water and your arousal. "You're so wet baby." she said with a smirk, she removed her right hand from around your neck and used it to move your head back, licking and sucking your neck.

You could feel her fingers moving in and out of you, you were letting out moans, both from the feeling of her fingers inside you and the sensation of her lips leaving marks that later would become dark purple hickeys.

The brunette stopped sucking on your neck, but you were too busy with the feeling of her fingers pumping in and out of you at a rapid pace to even notice that she was moving down.

Suddenly, you felt something warm and smooth between your legs, you moaned louder as Tara began to lick and suck your clit. "F-fuck." you let out a loud moan, as she pushed in another finger, curling it slightly and hitting that spongy spot inside you again.

Tara was still sucking and licking you, then she looked up at you and grinned "Already?" she asked, your eyes widened as she moved her fingers harder inside you.

You gave her a quick nod, making her smile as she moved up again, wrapping her free arm around your waist and pulling you closer to her. You wrapped your legs around her waist, your eyes locking as she pushed her fingers into you and kissed you passionately, and you moaned into her mouth, biting on your bottom lip at the feeling of her tongue exploring your mouth and making you taste your arousal.

She began to move her fingers faster, hitting your g-spot every time, you were pressing yourself closer to Tara, trying to get her closer to you, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You wanted to cum so badly.

You were moaning louder and louder, you felt yourself tightening around her fingers, and you tried to slow down your ragged breath, but you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm.

The feeling of Tara's tongue inside your mouth, her fingers inside you hitting your g-spot and the feeling of her body hitting yours was enough motivation for you to cum. "Tara, I'm gonna-" you could barely speak through your moans.

"Not yet," she said as she pulled her fingers out of you, you let out a whine as she broke the kiss and got on her knees again, her tongue licking your pussy ever so gently. Tara snickered, slowly licking her fingers, "You taste so good baby." she said seductively, you blushed and tried to cover your face with your hands.

Tara got up and grabbed your hand, pulling you down and kissing you again, you let yourself get lost in the moment, "Don't cover your beautiful face when I'm about to make you scream my name." She whispered and broke the kiss, pecking your lips so softly that you'd wonder if she was the same person that was thrusting her fingers into you like her life depended on it just a minute ago.

"I'm not gonna scream, I can't. I'll get complaints from other students, again." You said looking into her eyes, now it was her time to blush, remembering all of the times you'd have sex and she made you scream or vice versa.

Then the next week you'd get a warning from the university dorm on behalf of all of the students that lived on your floor.

"But you will, babygirl, whether you like it or not, I'm gonna make you cum so hard and so good, you're gonna scream my name and beg me to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore. That’s what’s gonna happen," She said it in such a seductive tone that you knew you wouldn’t be able to say no, not that it would matter to her anyway, she'd do it her own way and you both knew that, and that just made you love her even more.

She got her knees again, a bright grin on her face. "Ready to get off baby?" Tara asked as she pushed herself down, her lips meeting your pussy.

The brunette sucked hard on your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body as she grinded her teeth a little bit on your clit. You let out a loud moan, surprised by the sudden feeling but loving every second of it.

Tara made sure to keep sucking and licking you in the right spot, her hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing and pulling at your nipples as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Once again, you felt yourself tightening around Tara's mouth, making her suck you a little bit harder. You couldn't take it any longer, you were at the edge and you wanted to fall off it, you grabbed her hair and pulled it, forcing her head into you, you were almost screaming as you came hard, your hips bucking against Tara's face, making her moan.

She moves one of her hands down, her fingers making their way inside you and she wasted no time in moving them quickly, hitting your g-spot.

You were moaning like crazy at the feeling of her fingers thrusting into you right after your orgasm, you let go of Tara's hair and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer to you, grinding against her fingers.

You couldn't believe how amazing it felt, it almost felt better than when you did it yourself, then again, there was something special about the way she'd drag her tongue across your clit before she focused on it, and other times when you'd feel her moan against your pussy, making you shiver from the vibrations.

You'd come to believe that she found your weak spots and would always hit them when you were close to an orgasm, it was like she just knew. "I'm gonna cum again," you said as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge again, Tara had stopped moving her fingers and began to lick your clit at a slow pace, teasing you, you let out a loud moan.

"Tara, I'm gonna cum again." you said, your voice raising a bit, you could barely talk as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm, Tara put one of her fingers in your mouth.

"Suck." she said, you smiled as you sucked her finger and got it as wet as it could.

She pulled it out of your mouth and moved it up to your pussy again, pressing it against your entrance, you were quivering as you felt her fingers inside you, but she didn't move it, she just teased you, you couldn't take it anymore "Please!" you begged.

"Please what?" she said as she licked your clit, making you moan loudly, she smiled "Please move your fingers?" she laughed "Or you want me to lick your clit and make you cum again?"

"Yes!" you yelled in reply, shutting your eyes, she smiled again and grabbed your legs, wrapping them around her neck,

"Are you sure?" she asked, and you nodded as you felt yourself tightening around her fingers. Tara finally pressed both of her fingers into you, moving them a little bit inside you, teasing you.

"Please, fuck me," you said, hoping that your begging would get her to finally move her fingers inside you.

Tara pressed her tongue against your clit, she sucked it and pressed it against her mouth, then she moved her tongue down, pressing it against your entrance, you were grinding against her like you were trying to fuck her face.

Her fingers were still inside you, but she still wasn't moving them. You were getting desperate, she was teasing you like you were a fucking toy for her to play with, and you decided that you were done with her teasing.

You pulled her face against your pussy, pressing her tongue against your entrance, she moaned against your pussy and moved her fingers into you almost all of the way, but she kept going in and out of you at a slow pace.

"Please fuck me!" you screamed loudly, Tara squeezed your thighs and moved her tongue so it was barely touching your entrance.

Your hips moved on their own, trying to grind against her, but she didn't let you, she began to suck on your clit while she was fingering you, her hands were holding your thighs and your hands were back on her hair, you were moaning loudly, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore, you were about to cum.

Tara knew it as well, you were tightening around her fingers, then you came hard, letting out a loud moan, Tara's fingers and mouth moving away from you, she licked her fingers and smiled at you. You kissed her hard, your hands locking around her neck and her arms wrapped around you. "I love you," you said breathlessly as you broke the kiss, still shaking from the overstimulation she had put you through.

"And I love you, baby." Tara said as she pulled you in for another kiss, you sighed trying to recompose yourself. After you had calmed down, the brunette washed your body and your hair with such care and love, she didn’t seem like the same person that was making you beg just minutes ago.

When you both got out of the shower, the cold titles on the floor snapped you back to reality; you had to take Tara home as soon as possible or Sam would have your head on a stake, undermining any progress that had been made to improve your relationship with her.

You panicked, running towards your closet and putting on the first pair of clothing you could find, when you turn around to call Tara's name, you saw her leaning on the bathroom door, still in her towel and laughing at you.

"This is not funny Tara, put on something quick, I need to take you home or Sam is gonna kill me, then you, ruining any chances of her letting you go anywhere near me ever again!" You say frustrated looking at the girl who was still laughing at you with a big smile on her face.

"Come here," She said softly, you sighed, looking at the clock on your bedside table, eight forty-nine, you closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath and walking towards Tara. "Calm down, yeah?" She said, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Please, I don't want her to hate me even more than she already does." You whispered looking into her eyes, hoping she's take your plea and get moving. When she saw the look on your face she gave in and pecked your lips.

"We're in no rush baby," she said calmly, you looked at her confused by her response. "She let me stay the night, why else would I have fucked you in the shower?"

You rolled your eyes at her, resting your head on her shoulder and smiling "Did she really?" you said hopeful.

"Mhm," She mumbled and kissed your cheek "And I think you've been way too stressed out about your finals, you're smart, and you study your ass off every time, so, as the amazing girlfriend I am, I'm gonna make all of that stress go away. " she whispered and squeezed your waist, making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

"Lay down and let me take care of you, please." She whispered and moved you both to the bed, laying you down gently and letting the towel fall off her body, kissing you while her hands move down to the hem of your sweatpants.

"I should get stressed more often then." You laughed and pulled up your shirt so she could kiss your stomach. She smiled and kissed it, then she moved back up, kissing your neck and collarbone.

"Mhm, just the stress," She kissed you again, a little bit harder and moved her hands down to your sweatpants and her thumbs hooked under the waistband.

"Wanna get out of these?" She whispered against your lips, you nodded and she pulled them off of you, smiling at you when you were completely naked. You knew this was gonna be a long night and you would probably regret not studying more, but that was a problem for future you.

Because when Tara sets her mind on something it was hard to get her to think otherwise. Not that you were complaining anyway, you made a mental note to thank Sam the next time you saw her because her sister was about to rail the shit out of you all night long thanks to her.

[chimielie]

my lover, my life, my shawty, my wife

summary: Ushijima x f!Reader. snapshots of eternal youth.

word count: 1.3k

cw: lighthearted manhandling, longterm established relationship ups (and one down), marriage talk and mention of toshi’s parents’ divorce. it’s basically all fluffy and silly tho

a/n: nobody @ me i wrote literally 99% of this a couple weeks ago and just remembered it was in the drafts today i’m working on the promised fics!!! it will just be A While i’m slow okayyy 💘 anyway enjoy some pure ushijima fluff

“Ushiwaka!!!” You shriek, voice breaking with laughter as you slam your hands against his backside. “Put me down, you—you barbarian! Kidnapper! Plunderer!”

He doesn’t say anything, just jostles you gently so your top half (currently upside-down over his broad shoulder) sways while your legs stay firmly in the grip of his arms. You know it’s as close as he’s going to get to a verbal admonishment, your current position already more than enough of an indication that he is fed up with you acting up in a public setting.

“Fine,” you scrunch up your face, sure that he can envision it just the same as you can see in your mind’s eye the near-invisible traces of amusement on his face. “Ugh, you’re going to make me sick. You are so bossy. I can’t believe you think that you can just pick me up and carry me around and tell me what to do. You don’t even say please, you know that?”

He probably gets the idea that he can just pick you up and carry you around and tell you what to do from the ten years that he's been doing all those things, since high school.

You've never gotten sick from being carried like this, either.

“You are bossy,” he says simply in rebuttal. "You say please but you know I'll do whatever it is you want. Even unreasonable things."

"I'm always reasonable," you say. He pats your butt in a way that isn't supposed to be condescending but is. You smack his in return and enjoy the way his back muscles tense up. "Ooh, you've been training your glutes."

He's been doing it in your home gym. You've always been loud about obvious things like this; he doesn't understand it, especially, but he likes it. At first, that had been much of your relationship. You were loud and obvious about your feelings for the up-and-coming teenage ace, and he didn't understand you, but he liked you.

He considers, and then revises his previous thought. He understands you better now. You talk through even things you and he know well because it helps you to process your thoughts, and you are determined to be shocked and delighted by all small things in the world.

"Hello, Bo-kun!" you wave to his teammate. Bokuto, bless him, attempts to bend over upside down to mimic you.

"Hey, Ushijima-san!" Ushijima is lucky that everyone in the facility knows you and you don't have to clarify to any security guards that you aren't in danger, for real. You take offense to the idea that you couldn't win in a fight against him, anyway.

You had been asserting this particular belief, actually, to the rest of the Japanese men’s volleyball team while they stretched post-practice and friends and family were allowed on court to distract them. Atsumu had been egging you on, urging you to try fighting another of the players since he didn’t trust Wakatoshi not to let you win currently. You had rolled up your shirtsleeves when the ace scooped you up and you had, already protesting, waved goodbye to the blond, a huge grin on your face. He had saluted you as you went.

“We’re not married yet,” you say, bonking your forehead into Wakatoshi as he stops short. “You all don't have to keep saying that. Please, call me—”

"Oh, Waka-kun said," Bokuto starts before being cut off.

“We may as well be," Wakatoshi says, turning to face Bokuto (At least turn sideways so I can see, you complain). "It'll happen eventually, so we can start practicing by calling her my wife now."

"What?!" You say. "Don't say things like that. You sound like you like me. Do you like me? Do you want to be more than friends?"

People have always talked about your relationship in begrudging terms. "Oh, opposites attract, I guess..." spoken in a disbelieving and reluctant tone. He understands. Most high school relationships didn't work out. Most people would get frustrated with him and his communication style. Then most long-distance relationships didn't work out. Most young professional athletes wanted to try new things, new people.

Wakatoshi doesn't understand why he would want to try something new when he had something perfectly fine with you. He had said that to you, once, when you were in Sapporo and he in Koganei. You had gotten very quiet for the rest of the call and then remained quiet for two weeks, sending all of his messages to read and calls to voicemail. It had taken a short flight and a shy, quiet apology to right his wrongs. He had known that he would spend the rest of his life with you, he said, forgetting to blink even as you furiously swiped away tears, a month in when you were fifteen. Barely longer than this terrible time you had stopped even fighting with him, just giving up on him. Why would he try anything else when he had never deviated from this path?

But what if you're just not seeing that there might be something better out there for you, you had said, voice angry but face already forgiving. Worse, what if you do see that someday? You’ll get tired of settling.

He had shaken his head. There isn't something better. Please, continue to be patient with me. Your breath had burst out of you in a single sob, and then you were yanking him toward you, ordering him to kiss you so you'd stop crying in front of all the neighbors.

Considering his parents' marriage, one might have thought that he would have more qualms about the concept than he did. You didn't seem interested in pressuring him there, though, and when asked just reminded him that living together long enough would result in common-law marriage anyway, so he just had to tell you if he ever wanted to stop living together. After several years separated and more reunited, he hadn't yet found any desire to do so. He definitely had strong negative feelings about being away from you for extended periods.

He was very lucky that you had chosen a career path which would allow you to travel essentially anywhere with him, find lucrative work anywhere with him. The home gym had actually been your gift to him, from the bank account you didn't share. It was the most thoughtful and horrifyingly expensive gift he had ever received. He had retaliated by hiring your most favored interior designer to rework your apartment into something both sentimentally familiar and not decorated entirely on the whim of two mid-twenty-year-olds. While they worked, he took you on vacation.

"We have to go," Wakatoshi adjusts you in his hold, nodding to his teammate. You’re quiet for a bit, so he puts you down, steadying you by your waist until your head stops swimming.

“You know we have to talk about these things,” you say, looking steadily at him.

“Yes,” he rumbles, considering his words for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about it more often recently. I still don’t feel strongly about the idea of a wedding, but I want you to be my wife. If you want to be.”

Insecurity sparks in him. You enjoyed your friend’s weddings, but perhaps you didn’t want one of your own, or one to him. Perhaps he had crossed a boundary.

“I don’t know,” you tap your lips with a finger, and a weight lifts off his chest when you smile at him. “I’ll see when you ask me. But I want it to be sometime in the future, somewhere more scenic than your athletic facility, okay? With a ring and a sappy speech.”

He smiles, then, his teeth showing. An explosive and momentous display of emotion.

“I’ll be sure to say please.”

[entrailseer]

Do you have any more Ragapom headcanons you would like to share?

oh boy. oh boy do i have some headcanons for you.

but before we get to those, let me just say that i really didn't expect the meal of circus yuri to grace all the ragapom shippers with its wonderful presence so soon, but i'm glad that it arrived nonetheless!

...even if it did jab at my throat a little because a LOT of my previous headcanons were turned up on their heads! so i'll take the time today to revise a few.

Remember when I said that Pomni couldn't handle any flirting from Ragatha? Don't worry, that's still true, but now they can't handle flirting from each other. Sure, Ragatha can keep herself together most of the time, but around Pomni? Nuh-uh.

I'd say that most of Ragatha's flirting would go unnoticed by Pomni when it actually happens, as her mind is probably on a lot of things that don't include romance (such as just trying to find a way to keep going in the digital hell she's in)

Also because Ragatha's flirting techniques are... really subtle. For now. (We all saw that little hip sway she did while asking for Pomni's opinion on the new adventure right)

Ragatha is, to say the least, a total mess when it comes to Pomni and her well-being. I mean, she literally apologized for something that caused Pomni to be upset even though it wasn't even her fault, put the problems she and her group were facing to worry about Pomni's, asked anyone she could about her whereabouts, rushed over to her and asked her if she was ok right after she saw her, and tried multiple times to make her feel better about being in the circus. (And about Gummigoo... rip gator man, you will be missed...)

That, too, unfortunately goes unnoticed by Pomni, at least up until Kaufmo's funeral. She knows now that Ragatha's got her back, and hopefully she'll appreciate her presence a bit more because of it.

She'll start encouraging Ragatha to worry about herself sometimes, or to let her do all of her own worrying instead.

(Ragatha does not stop worrying. She just gets better at hiding it.)

Pomni will probably also encourage Ragatha to take breaks every now and then when she needs it. And she definitely needs it.

They're just glad to have each other, really.

[dreamscapesofimagination]

A/N: I'm waiting on a timer for dinner so decided to write a quick thing for Alan, my other bby.

TW: Fluff? Confessions. Leo being a shit. Alan in a tanktop all sweaty which may be a whole warning itself lol.

Summary: You stop by to get Alan to look over some forms, and Leo decides enough is enough.

-----------

You silently cursed your uniform.

The sun glared down today, and it had taken approximately three steps outside for you to wish for some lighter clothing.

The only relief from the heat was the refreshing breeze that rustled the trees, bringing with it the faint smell of engine oil as your steps led you toward Vagastrom.

Even the cats seemed irritated by the heat, some lazily sprawled in the grass to soak up the suns rays without overheating.

Of course today was the day that something had been overlooked on the most recent report for Vagastrom, so not only did you have to trek to the staffroom to collect the report from an even more disgruntled than usual Professor Dante, you also had to then trek toward Vagastrom.

The only benefit was the fact that you needed Alan to look over the form personally. You had long since accepted your attraction to the stoic captain, and between Sho and Leo's relentless comments you had gleaned that he may feel something for you as well. Unfortunately, when it came to any sort of relationship, Alan was like a frightened bird, and so you refused to approach him yourself for fear of making him uncomfortable.

Alan had let you know he would be around back, working on one of the cars.

You made your way along the dusty ground, using the folder in your hand to fan yourself.

"Hey Alan, I have those-"

The sight of him stopped you in your tracks.

He was leaned over the open hood of the car, and you couldn't help the flush that rushed to your cheeks at the sight of his back, sweat causing the grey tank top to cling to his muscles.

He quickly turned and lord have mercy.

He was definitely trying to kill you.

His skin glistened, evidence he had been working in the heat for awhile, and a black smudge accented his cheek bone.

"You have the report?" He asked, using an old rag to wipe the grease from his hands.

"Y-yeah, Professor Dante said you had to revise the Darkwick Property Damage clause." You stammered out the words, quickly focusing on the car.

"Is that-?"

"The car that the absolute embarassment if a first year wrecked on the mission? Yeah. Luckily the broker of that anomaly wasn't able to do anything extreme but its still a headache to repair." Alan sighed, reaching into the cooler that was beside the car and pulling out two water bottles.

He handed you one as he took the folder, frowning as he examined the report within.

You perched on an old tire that lay by Alan's tools, enjoying the coldness of the waterbottle and desperately trying to avoid looking at Alan.

It was hard to not look as he looked at the report, leaning against the car.

His skin had gained a slight tan, and you found yourself wishing (not for the first time) that things could be very different between you two.

"I'll fix this report as soon as I'm done with the car, do you want to wait here until I'm done?" Alan looked at you, expression softeningat the sight of you pressing the waterbottle against your heated forehead.

You smiled at him, "yeah, I'll wait. I really don't feel like walking back across campus and then needing to come back here only to go back to the main building and then back to my dorm."

Alan placed the folder through the open window onto the seat of the car.

"Well, you're welcome to wait inside. I know its hot. It shouldn't take me much longer- one of the bolts I need to get off is stuck but I've almost gotten it," he leaned back over the car as he spoke.

You pulled off your blazer, setting it under your head as you laid back on the tire. When you weren't moving the sun actually felt nice, and you were admittedly loathe to leave Alan. It wasn't often you got to be with just him.Since it was unlikely you and he would ever be together, you soaked up as much one on one as you could.

Before you knew it, you were dozing in the warm sun.

"What're you guys up to?"

A voice that you knew all to well jostled you awake, and you sat up.

You watched Alan stifle a groan, supressing a smile yourself at your shared disdain for Leo.

"What do you want?" Alan asked, refusing to look at Leo, focused instead on the car.

Leo shrugged, "Just figuring out why you have the honor student laying on a tire." The words "honor student" were said with a sneer.

"I'm just waiting for him to correct a report so I can take it to Professor Dante." you spoke, eyes narrowed at Leo.

"Ah, I see. And you're waiting in the blazing sun because of what?" you felt a tingle in your spine at the knowing look in his eye.

"I mean, I can only think of one reason why you'd be out here, alone, in the blistering heat with our less than chatty captain."

"Leo." Alan's voice was stern as he growled the warning.

Ignoring him, Leo continued, "now, I've definitely noticed you following the buzzkill around like a lost puppy, and man is it pathetic to watch."

"Leo!" Alan snapped, turning to glare at the silver haired man.

Leo just shrugged, "c'mon, you're equally pathetic, Cap. It'd be a lot less gross for everyone else if you both would just get together already."

Your cheeks burned at his words, and a side glance to Alan showed his ears to be red.

"You and I are training tomorrow. I want to see if your hand to hand has gotten any better." Alan seethed, and from his tone you figured that Leo was still no match for the captain.

Rolling his eyes, Leo turned, "Yeah, whatever Cap."

You pointedly looked at your feet, avoiding looking at the man beside you.

You knew Alan harbored some sort of feelings for you, and you figured he probably knew about yours. However, knowing and having them thrust in your face were two separate matters entirely.

"Sorry 'bout him." Alan's voice pulled your attention back to him.

You shook your head, "you don't have to apologize."

You wondered if you made Alan uncomfortable- afterall, you knew he had reservations when it came to hurting others (at least, when it came to you). Maybe your clear desire to be around him was too much.

"Alan," he looked at you, "I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable. I can't really help how I feel but if me being around so much is causing issues I'll just stay away unless otherwise is necessary."

He frowned, tilting his head.

"That's- You are not the issue." he sighed, "I am."

He came over, sitting beside you on the tire.

"I have feelings for you, I just don't want to hurt you. I'd never forgice myself. Maybe its selfish but I'd rather have you close by never close enough than not see you."

You carefully reached out, taking his hand in yours. You could feel his body stiffen at your touch.

"Alan, you know you won't hurt me, right? I trust you. And if it takes awhile for you to trust yourself then thsts okay, and I won't push anything again. But, I like you a lot, and I'm here whenever you're ready." You watched his gaze fall to your hands and he squeezed gently before meeting your eyes.

You noticed the determination in his dark eyes.

"I want to try this out. For once, Kurosagi is right. Its honestly more pathetic for me to keep being petrified."

You felt your heart hammer in your chest as all your focus fell to Alan.

He smiled, "I'd like to take you out on a date."

The grin that spread across your face was so wide that it hurt, but the joy inside you wouldn't allow it to lessen.

"I'd love to go on a date with you, Alan."

[binniesbobastay]

Angel in the Studio

Bang Chan x fem!reader x Han Jisung

Warnings: Smut (18+ minors DNI), mature language, partner sharing, cockwarming, voyeurism, masturbation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, cream pie, reader is called a slut, pet names, slight chan x jisung

Word count: 3.6k

a/n: shoutout to @lovejisungie for coming up with this ig :/ pls interact if u enjoyed! <3

"Poor thing..." Chan whispers in your ear, making you want to squirm. But you can't, Chan had given you a very stern, yet simple set of instructions. Stay still.

You thought of the gesture last minute really, figuring he and the other members with him in the studio hadn't eaten yet. And you were on your way to your favorite takeout place anyway. But what you didn't know was that Chan had been thinking about you, specifically what he wanted to do to you when he got home later that night, all day long. Your surprise visit was his breaking point, which led you to where you were now... sitting on his cock while he worked with the other boys in the studio.

"So sweet, bringing lunch up for me and the boys. You didn't see this coming, did you now?" One of his veiny hands starts to trail up from its place on your thigh, pulling your skirt up with it. Wide-eyed and panicked, your hands fly up to stop him, earning a deep chuckle from him.

"Chan... please. We shouldn't be doing this in here." You plead. But he just places his arms around your hips, pulling you closer to his chest. Your body responds immediately as his tip brushes against the right spot. You grip the armrests of the chair, nails digging into the leather. You bite your lip to hold back a moan as you try to relax against your boyfriend's warm embrace.

"Baby, you have nothing to worry about. He can't see us while he's in there." It was just Changbin and Jisung there with him today, as it normally was. Changbin had left a few minutes after Chan had placed you on his cock to go to the gym. As far as you could tell, he was pretty much unaware of what was going on.

But Jisung had mostly been in the recording room the whole time, so it's not exactly like you weren't getting away with anything.

Your eyes follow Chan's flick over to the boy on the other side of the glass window. He brushes his overgrown bangs out of his face before he scribbles on his lyric sheet. He finally looks up, eyes meeting your gaze instead of Chan's, and you might have imagined it but you thought you could see a light shade of pink spread across his cheeks. He reverts his gaze over to Chan a second later.

"Okay, I think I'm ready." He says, voice coming in through the speaker.

"Alright, go ahead then." Jisung puts his headset back on before Chan pressed a couple buttons on the monitor. As Jisung sings his freshly-revised verse, Chan's attention comes back to you, his hands gently rub up and down your sides.

"Mmm, being such a good girl for me," He hums, before kissing the spot behind your ear. "I'll have to reward you later, yeah?"

You feel a touch of guilt tug at your heart when you can't bring yourself to take your eyes off of Jisung as he pours his part out into the mic. The rapid rise and fall of his chest, the veins in his sweat-coated neck peaking out with his efforts, and the sparkle in his eyes as he occasionally looks up at you and Chan...

He makes you even wetter despite you being stuffed with Chan's cock already. Your behavior doesn't go unnoticed by Chan, but instead of feeling jealous or upset... he just smirks to himself.

"You know," He starts, reaching up to brush his fingers through your hair, "Jisung kind of has a little crush on you." Your head whips back to face him.

"Wait, w-what?" You stammer, making your boyfriend's smirk grow even wider.

"Yup, it all came out in a drunken confession at a party last week." Chan says, patting your leg.

"But, I mean it doesn't..." But Chan cuts you off with a kiss, not wanting to waste anymore time to use this chance to make two important people in his life feel good.

"Baby, it's okay. I see the way you're looking at him now, I'm no dummy." He tells you, kissing your cheek.

"You're reminding me of how he acted when he finally sobered up. All frantic and apologetic... it was kind of cute." He muses.

"Chan..." is all you can mutter, breathlessly.

"Tell you what, how about that reward? When he comes out of the studio and if he's able to figure out what you and I are up to in the next... twenty-five minutes," He leans in close to your ear, "I'll let him use you however he wants."

Your thighs press together at the proposal, head spinning at the thought of so many possibilities. Shyly leaning back to press your face into the crook of his neck, you nod. Chan continues to rub his hands across your thighs.

"Good girl." He whispers, huskily. A few minutes later, your heart starts to drum against your rib cage as Jisung finally comes out of the recording room, pulling up a chair beside you and Chan. The two of them started to edit the recording while you nervously watch Jisung's face through the reflection of the glass. But about fifteen minutes in, he is still completely ignorant of what's going on beside him, working determinedly on the new song.

Chan, of course, could see right through him. He knew Jisung was crazy about you, but wanted to appear respectful to him while you were around. What Chan found even more amusing was your attempt at masking your nerves, which had begun to turn into anticipation and then later... impatience.

You let out a sigh, nuzzling your head against Chan's shoulder. He just smiles and kisses your forehead. The simple act done in the presence of such high tensions is enough to send electricity through your body. Your cunt throbbed around Chan's cock, desperate to feel the touch of both of the men with you in the room. You had to adjust yourself to help with the ache, making one of Chan's arms twitch as it went to grab you, but he stopped himself. This is what finally caught Jisung's attention, looking over at the two of you with one brow raised in concern.

You almost had him, he just needed a few extra hints. Planting your feet on the ground, you slightly bounce yourself a couple times on Chan's lap, and the way his breath catches in his throat is more than audible in the quiet studio. You try your best to hide the smile of victory that threatens to spread across your face as you see Jisung's eyes go wide in the reflection of the glass.

The next couple of minutes go by as Jisung pretends that he hadn't realized, crossing one leg over the other in an attempt to hide the growing tent in his pants. After a few more minutes of tapping his foot, drumming his fingers on the desk, doing anything he can to distract himself, Jisung finally breaks.

"Um, I think I'm gonna go down to the cafe." He says, starting to get up from his seat.

"It's okay, Ji," Chan calls after him. "We wanted you to notice." Jisung sits back down, the shock making his knees weak.

"Wh-what?" Jisung stammers. Chan turns the chair around so that the two of you are now facing him. His hands wrap around your waist, guiding you to start grinding against him. A loud whine finally slips past your lips and Jisung thinks he could die right there.

"F-fuck... is this about last week? Because I promise I was just drunk. I don't..."

"Jisung, calm down!" Chan laughs, reaching over to pat the boy on the shoulder. "Were you too drunk to remember I said I didn't mind at all and that you can fuck her whenever you want?"

You and Jisung's faces turn cherry red. Chan hadn't mentioned that part. You're stunned to the point of silence, not even protesting when Chan finally lifts your skirt up to finally reveal your bare core wrapped around his cock to Jisung. His fingers come up under your thighs to spread your legs apart.

"See, she wants you too. Look how wet she is." You finally allow yourself to squirm as you watch the look in Jisung's eyes go from frightful to hungry in a matter of seconds.

"We made a deal that if you noticed what we were doing, you get to use her however you want," Chan explained, rubbing circles into the skin of your thighs with his thumbs.

Chan leans over, getting close to Jisung's ear. "So what would you like to do to her first?"

Jisung gulps. His eyes haven't left your pussy ever since Chan pulled your skirt up.

"I think... I just want to watch for now. Watch you fuck her pretty little cunt." You let out a mewl at Jisung's words, making Chan grimace.

"Gladly." Jisung makes his way over to the couch behind you, making himself comfortable. Chan once again moves the chair so he can see before lifting you up off his lap with his strong arms, starting to rut his hips up into you.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, throwing your head back. Chan's nails scrape painfully against your skin, making you hiss.

"Nuh-uh, princess..." He coos, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing your head back up. "Don't take your eyes away from him, not for one second. Show him how good of a slut you are."

Your gaze locks onto Jisung's blown-out orbs, his bottom lip between his teeth in a smirk, his biceps straining against his tight shirt. He takes out his cock and begins to stroke it. You clench when you realize he's going at the same pace Chan is thrusting up into you.

"Mmm, fuck she likes that." Chan groans in your ear.

"Yeah, I bet she does," Jisung remarks, "fuck, what a pretty girl. You take him so well."

"She's gonna take you like this later, right baby?" Chan asks, landing a smack to the back of your thigh.

"Y-yes..." You whimper. You continue to drool over the sight of Jisung getting himself off as he watched you, his pretty cock thick and hard, leaking precum from the tip. It took everything in you to keep yourself from falling off the edge at the thought of how it would feel inside of you later.

"How does his cock feel, sweetheart?" Jisung asks, fucking into his hand faster. "Feel good?"

You're too lost in the pleasure to speak, much to Jisung's disapproval. Suddenly, Jisung stands up, walking over to you in nearly one stride. He hovers over you and Chan before grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look at him, his face inches from yours. It makes you want to have a taste of those pretty, plump lips of his.

"Use your words, baby. Tell me how good he makes you feel with your words." He says, sternly. This can't be the same man that was blushing from merely looking at you alone, the same one who was all panicked when he had figured out you were cockwarming his leader.

"Do as he says, tell him with your words like a big girl," Chan growls out before biting the shell of your ear. You realize you're at the complete mercy of both of them.

"H-he makes me feel so fucking good, J-jisung." You say, looking into his eyes. "He stretches me out sooo good. It's perfect."

Jisung hums, satisfied, swiping softly at your bottom lip with his thumb. You're hopeful that he will finally duck down and kiss you, but instead, he drops to his knees in front of you. You buck your hips when you feel his warm hands splay over your inner thighs next to Chan's. He lets out a needy moan, licking his lips.

"Fuck, she's drenching you." Chan snicker, proudly.

"I know, she's amazing how she does that," He boasts, kissing your cheek. "Feels so warm and wet." Jisung eyes remain transfixed on how Chan thrusts his cock in and out of you.

"I need a taste..." He whispers. Chan halts his movements, making you whine at the lack friction against your walls.

"What are you doing?" Jisung asks, confused. Chan raises his brow as he looks down at his younger member.

"Getting out of the way so you can eat her out." He says, to which Jisung meets you both with a mischievous smirk.

"I didn't say you had to stop." He retorts, voice low. You can feel Chan's chest rise against your back as he inhales sharply. He wastes no time in moving again. Jisung bores his eyes into yours one last time before leaning down so his mouth was right in front of your cunt, letting his tongue lap at your clit while Chan continued to fuck you.

"Oh my gooooood..." You practically scream, throwing your head back against Chan's shoulder, not caring if you got in trouble for it. The feeling was unlike anything you've experienced. Chan almost always rubs your sensitive bud while he fucks you so he can get you to cum, but having a tongue lick at you while being fucked made you feel higher than ever. It had you clamping down on Chan's cock, almost trapping him within you.

"Oh fuck, Jisung!" Chan groans, burying his head in your neck, starting to leave love bites. "Keep doing that, god she's fucking... fuck!"

Chan can't even finish his sentence as Jisung licks at you more feverishly, unintentionally catching a bit of Chan's cock with his tongue. The two of them moan, and between Chan's noises in your ear and Jisung's sending vibrations around your clit, you know you won't be able to last much longer.

"I'm c-close," You cry out. "Ch-channie, Ji... please."

"Cum for us, baby girl," Jisung commands, hand traveling down to tug at his cock again. "Cum all over my face and your boyfriend's cock."

Jisung takes your clit between his lips, giving you a few last suckles before you come undone, white clouding your vision. Your body collapses against Chan as your fingers thread through Jisung's hair, keeping him there until you ride out your high. Your pussy pulses around Chan, getting him to follow you.

"Fuck, 'm cumming too. Where do you want it?" But he's not asking you, he's looking down at Jisung who shrugs.

"You can do it inside her if you want," He says, "I don't mind using her like that."

He winks up at you, making you shiver. With a long, raspy groan, Chan finishes inside you, filling you up. Chan snakes his arms around you as Jisung rests his head against your thigh, still pulling at his length. The three of you take a few moments to catch your breath before Chan pats you on the sides.

"I think it's your turn to have at her now, wouldn't you say?" Jisung nods in agreement before standing up. You yelp out in surprise as he picks you up off of Chan's lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to the couch. He sits down with you perched up on his lap. You both pull back to look at each other, crimson painting both of your faces as you process the new-found dynamic between the two of you.

"I need to fucking get these off of you." Jisung sighs, pulling at your clothes. You help him strip you before doing the same with him. Now the two of you are entangled in each other, completely bare. You let your hands absentmindedly explore one another for the first time. You fear you'll melt under Jisung's adoring gaze, so different from the hungry, animalistic eyes he had only minutes before when he was devouring you.

"God, look at the two of you..." Chan mutters, palming at his semi-hard cock as he watched you. You feel your heart flutter in your chest as Jisung's hand comes up to caress your cheek.

"You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?" He whispers, making you blush even deeper.

"I've been dying to touch you ever since I met you," He leans down, kissing your shoulder before trailing the rest of his way up your neck, his bangs tickling your skin. "I'm so lucky to have a friend who will let me have his girl like this..."

"Yeah, you like touching me like this in front of my boyfriend?" The words left your lips before you can even think. Jisung's eyes become more doe-like as he seems to hang off of every last one of them.

"Y-yes, baby..." He mewls. Perhaps he was also at your mercy too.

"Mmm, pretty boy." You say, not letting the little shiver he makes at the name go unnoticed. You cup his face, peppering kisses all over his cheeks, then his head, then his nose, then his chin...

"God... please kiss me," He begs, hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer. "Need your lips so fucking bad."

Who were you to say no when he was asking so sweetly?

You finally let his mouth meet yours, and the new feeling of kissing someone you haven't before takes over the both of you. It's a mess of tongue and teeth as Jisung keeps you against him by grabbing the nape of your neck while your nails are digging into his shoulders. You can taste yourself and some of Chan on his lips, feeling like you were on fire. When he's had his fill of your mouth he lets his hands slide up your sides and grab onto your breasts. You lean back, letting him dip his head down so he can take one between his lips.

"Mmm, 've wanted these beautiful tits in my mouth... 'so long. 've dreamt about it." He moans, letting his tongue run freely over your soft, milky skin.

"Yeah, well now you've finally got 'em, pretty boy. Are you happy? Does sucking on my tits make you happy?" He lets out an exasperated moan, completely drunk on you. You take the opportunity to reach down and guide his cock into your spent hole. He's so distracted he doesn't even notice until he feels your walls, coated with your wetness and Chan's cum, surround him.

"O-oh, fuuuuck!" He pulls away, throwing his head back against the couch. You giggle, sliding him all the way in and settling on his lap.

"Already so whiny, and I haven't even started moving yet." You tease. You grind against him for a little bit, holding back your moans at the feeling of him stretching you back out. It was even better than you had imagined it to be while you were on Chan's cock. But you liked seeing this side of Jisung, so you didn't want him to know he had the same impact on you.

Boy, was it worth it. As you started to ride him, the boy was letting little whines slip past the back of his throat, looking up at you like you had granted every wish he could have ever made.

"Good girl, fuck him dumb just like that," Chan comments, reminding you of who is in charge. Your fingers begin to comb through his soft hair, your heart melting when you see him relax into your touch.

"M-making me feel so good," He mewls, hands cupping your ass and following the motion of your hips, still letting you control the pace. "N-not just this sweet pussy, your skin, your lips... everything about you is amazing, you're such a fucking angel."

You can't help but whine back, your head falling to rest on his shoulder as you work your hips faster.

"Yeah, that's right," Chan teases, "She may act tough, but you make her just as weak as she makes you."

You expect Jisung to join in on the teasing, but he merely hums, turning his head to kiss your temple.

"It's okay, baby. Let it all out. I want to know you're feeling good." He purrs into your ear, hands coming up to stroke your hair. "I'll still be your pretty boy as long as you'll be my good girl."

"Fuck, Jisung!" You hiss, leaning back and supporting your weight on his knees. You grind your heels into the couch on either side of him, moving yourself up and down his cock as fast as you can.

"Fuck, just like that! Don't stop, please don't stop!" He screams. You feel the knot in your core begin to tighten, and the only thing you want is to get yourself and Jisung to cum. As if he read your mind, he lets his tongue run over his thumb before reaching down to rub circles into your clit.

"Mmmm!" You moan before finally creaming all over his cock. You watch as his eyes roll back while you clench around him, getting his release to wash over him as well all while he moans your name. He fills you up, his seed joining Chan's inside you. Your overfilled cunt starts to leak out onto Jisung's cock and stomach but you were both too spent to care.

He moves both of your bodies so that you're laying on top of him on the couch, cock still inside of you. You're so fucked out you don't even notice when Chan places a blanket over the two of you, kissing you on the head.

"You wore her out!" Chan teased, nudging Jisung's shoulder. "So how did she feel?"

"God... I don't think any words could do it justice." Jisung sighs.

Chan chuckles, scratching your back.

"And how are you, angel?" You let out a sleepy sigh in response, beginning to drift off on Jisung's chest.

"You two get some rest, I'll finish up today's work."

"Thanks, Chan..." Jisung says, wrapping his arms around you.

"No problem, it's the least I can do after you helped me make my girl feel so good. "

[ronaldothebestie]

I'm Sick | Rúben Dias

* ˚ ✦ Summary: Tik tok trends with Rúben and Singer!Reader!

Tw: Rúben is an idiot, fluff, Reader being simp, your tik tok account calls "CanelaDiasFan", Canela being the best cute daughter ever, dialogues in negrito are in Portuguese, not 100% revised, Canela means Cinnamon.🤎

English is not my first language!!!

Beautiful people are talking

* ˚ ✦

Version 1 (the one that was never published)

Inspiration

-

"Please Ruby, let's do this? I promise I won't publish it." You beg, sitting at the kitchen counter while Rúben prepares lunch, who was more concerned with finishing the famous Bacalhau com Natas.

"Nop. The desire to appear on the neighboring social media is not incredible today."

"It's funny that you always feel like showing off your whole body on Instagram, but when it comes to recording a cute video with your girlfriend it's the biggest drama, incredible."

"First, the photos are for... Professional purposes... Second, jealousy? And third, okay, let's do this."

"Yes, I see, professional purposes... Being a naughty and fishing com- What? A-Are you going to do it!? Rúben!” You jump off the counter radiantly hugging him from behind, smiling like a child, thanking him deeply.

"But wait, the decision was very quick... What do you want, Rúben?" You just looked suspiciously into his eyes.

"What will be my reward for doing this?" He asked funny while stirring the food.

"What do you mean, prize? Isn't it enough to make a cute video with your girlfriend, aka me?"

"Um, nop, here we are going to have a win-win situation, if I participate in your video, you will participate in mine."

"Very suspicious Ruby... What kind of video?"

"We play football."

"No."

"No? So no video for either one." He laughed evilly and you just wanted to kill this man, he probably already wanted to record this video and knew perfectly well what he was doing to make it happen.

There was "no advantage" for Rúben and you to record that football video, while in your case, it was the opposite, you practically needed that video for your existence! practically drooling at the thought of Rúben's arm muscle around your neck.

"No! Wait! Alright, I'll record the video." You quickly hide behind Rúben's back, with your head down, you hated playing football, especially with a boring and arrogant football player like him and-

Rúben just turned you around very easily, using a finger to lift your chin and stuck a spoon with the food in your mouth.

"Proof." You chewed with pleasure when you realized how wonderful the food was, your sad mood changed in the blink of an eye, you noticed his hopeful eyes and you couldn't resist.

"It's really good, Ruby."

"It is, isn't it? Now, my dear Bunny, let's not get upset about me humiliating you at football, will we?"

"Your assh-!"

Another spoonful of food was shoved into his mouth.

Hours later...

"Okay, let's get started- What the hell are you doing!?" You were scared when you saw, out of nowhere, Rúben doing push-ups in the middle of your suite.

"I need to emphasize the muscle well." Rúben winked at you, smiling and simply continued.

"I'm sure people know that you have... Protruding muscles..."

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean? And the three hundred photos on your 'insta' showing all your muscles?"

"I'm not showing... It's Art."

"Art? Só se for a arte do cara-"

The video ended with Rúben's biceps almost crushing your face.

...

Version 2 (the one that was published)

Inspiration

-

"Canela, unlike dad, you're not going to blackmail me, right?" You bring the kitten closer to your neck, kissing the brown fur, which purrs in approval and snuggles against you.

You quickly turn on the tik tok camera starting a revolutionary video.

"I can't go out." Cough, cough, "I'm sick." A small paw invades your face, almost sticking it into your eye, but everything ends well.

5M❤️ and 24M views:

caption: The truth about Canela😭

Comments:

@EmmaVermilion (Rúben's version)

— No way she did this with Canela #saveCanela😭💀

@(reader)pistachioicecreAm

— Girl, this is literally the perfect scenario for Ruben to appear 😭😭😭

↳ CanelaDiasFan: Ik😭 but he's a bastard/naughty who only cares about FIFA😡 (I tried, sorry girls 😔)

@serrenna:

— Canela almost killing (reader)🤑🤑🤑

↳ CanelaDiasFan: WDYM 😭😭😭

@FernandoMendes>>>

— She is literally one of the greatest singers ever, but these videos... I can't 😭😭😭❤️

↳ CanelaDiasFan: Ik you like it😏😏🫦

@louboutininBunnyGirlpls:

— MANK VTNC KKLQPIEJSNJSAHUWIA A GATA SE REVOLTANDO SHHAAHAHAHHAHAMAKAKSKAAKK

more comments...

Bônus:

"Meow." When night came, the brown feline snuggled in your lap, purring with your affection behind the ears, while you waited for Rúben.

"Own Canela, aren't you the cutest kitten in the world?" You picked up the kitten and kissed her repeatedly, feeling the kitten snuggle even closer.

"I feel like I was the one who should have been there." Rúben, sat on the bed next to you with a pout.

"Jealous, big guy? She's our baby, I have to give her everything, right Canela?" The cat meows as affirmation, gaining even more affection, now on her belly.

"What a naughty cat."

"Looks like someone... As they say, like father, like daughter.❤️"

I have no idea why I do this, but I realy like it at all😄.

I saw the trend and I thought it really suited Ruben, but he's a bit of a low profile at times and a naughty dog at others so.... We do 50%...

Well, it's 2am and I'm ready to... 😴

From the next line of comments I will add real @ 🥵🥵🥵.

Thanks for reading, reblogs, feedback and likes are very welcome!!!

© All this shit belongs to @ronaldothebestie on Tumblr, so don't translate, repost, copy in no social media, do not commit plagiarism, It's crime and wtf?

[calico-cheriies]

WASTED SUMMERS |Manjiro Sano x Reader Fanfic|

{Chapter two}

{Masterlist}

{WASTED SUMMERS Masterlist}

"Confess I loved you, just thinking of you... I know I've loved you from the start..."

—————————————————

You already regretted being acquainted with the gang member, who you'd just found was the leader of one of the most powerful gangs! How could you have guessed that the insufferable airhead was the gang leader for crying out loud?!

Your face heating up in embarrassment when someone had confronted you about your relationship with him. Of course, there was many things to take from this; the first one being that your classmates were nosy, and the second being that the short childish boy was the leader of one of the most feared gangs. You couldn't believe you let the delinquent walk you home, and even worse- you confided personal things to him!

Though you had to admit that it was the most fun and relaxing time you've had in a long time- you really needed other people to talk to if that's how you felt about him- or rather around him.

You shook away the thoughts as you walked towards one of the classrooms, sliding open the door and greeting some of your fellow peers. You would often stay after school to participate in the student council meetings, ever since you were voted as the student president and confirmed valedictorian, you had made it a responsibility to address some changes and revisions of rules.

You had been anticipating this thing since the summer before this year- so you had really been on top of everything. "(Y/N)! Thank you for stopping by, we already made a rough draft," the salutatorian bowed his head before handing you some papers.

You scanned the papers and nodded, "These are fine... I will review and edit them before officially publishing them with the news club," you sent a smile to the boy, who visibly blushed but went unnoticed by you. Thus it begun your stay there for an hour and a half, but there was something that you couldn't help but feel a familiar warm feeling blossom in you. You had to admit that being around others that were like you was comforting.

Your salutatorian, whom was named Riku, had always competed with you since you were children, so you had a fun time sending teasing jabs to him and getting to know any new people that were new this year. That was before the sliding door swung open to reveal the last person you wanted to see.

Mikey.

You ignored the boy who casually walked in with his friend behind him, everyone in the room went quiet and even tensed up, Riku even slightly scooted away from you.

Harsh.

"Mikey, this room is specifically for the student council," you spoke up just as Mikey was about to speak. Intense (E/c) eyes looking up with a stern glare, it wasn't really aggressive but it was definitely a warning that it wasn't a good time. Many watched as Mikey leaned in close to your face, he clearly didn't care and it seemed like what you said didn't make it to his brain. "No need to be rude to your best friend, (Y/N)-Chan," he grinned, making sure to loudly announce the nickname he had given you.

Most kid's tensed up, it was considered rude to call someone on the student council such nicknames, especially from someone that had a bad reputation like Mikey. They were expecting to see you yell or even back down, but you did neither.

You had rolled your eyes and stood up, bowing to your classmates as an apology. "I'm sorry for his rudeness, I'll be right back," a light hue of pink on your cheeks, you didn't like the glances the students gave each other after Mikey's nickname for you came out and you grabbed Mikey by the collar and dragged him out, "Draken, you too." You simply stated as the two walked out, at least they didn't really fight you on it.

You closed the door, "You guys can't come in here and do what you want! You're scaring my peers away and you're making me look bad!" You crossed your arms, eyes glaring up at the two boys. Draken shrugged, "Sorry," he didn't even sound sincere!

You sighed and while shaking your head you asked the question, "Whatever, what did you need anyways?" you were confused as to why they wanted to see you, Mikey was quiet as he stared at you. It didn't seem like they would go out of their way for someone like you. It had been a few days since you last saw them, and you weren't even friends with them.

At least- that's what you assumed.

The three of them stood there in silence, so you kept tapping your foot impatiently before Mikey said anything, it was strange... he was looking down with a weird expression... did he feel ill or something? You didn't like his piercing gaze on you and it began to make you squirm under his intense stare. This was the first time you felt kind of afraid of his gaze, he sure could stare anyone to death...

You supposed you could see why people were afraid of him...

"Mikey... are you alright?" You were obviously concerned until Draken eventually shoved him aside, "Mikey wanted to invite you out with us, Takemichi and his girl were going to come with us and some other friends..." Draken revealed and that made you silent.

Suddenly you threw your head back a little bit and let out a quiet laugh, your lips curved into a smile as you shook your head. "That's thoughtful of you guys... I didn't think I was scary to approach," you had now understood- well to Mikey it was misunderstood but it didn't matter. "I appreciate the offer, but I have to stay, unfortunately," you bowed your head apologetically, it was kind of disappointing that you couldn't go but it was still your responsibility to take care of student problems and study. Plus- you weren't even sure if you were the right person to ask. You obviously weren't as laid back as Hina was and you didn't think you would be looked at as a fun person- but the gesture was enough of make your heart flutter.

"(Y/N)-Chan... you're so boring," of course that came from Mikey...

"Okay... thanks, Sano," a sigh escaped your lips, (e/c) eyes slowly traveling down so you wouldn't have to see his smug smile. Your fingers were messing with the hem of your uniform's sleeve. "I just have a lot of things to do... but maybe next time," you sent them a half smile, but then Riku peeked his head out of the classroom.

He seemed to slightly glare at Mikey, before turning to you with a smile, "(Y/N)... we just finished since it's getting late, do you want to walk home together?" he had already grabbed your bag and you hummed in response and turned your back to Mikey, not seeing his smile drop. "Huh?... oh sure-" you outstretched your hand, fingers grazing the strap of your messenger bag until Mikey beat you to it and grabbed it for you.

"(Y/N)-Chan... let's go home!" Mikey declared as Draken stared down the salutatorian, he was also a scary starer..."Whatever Mikey says, goes," he was intimidating the poor boy! You were stunned as Mikey dragged you by the hand towards the exit from Draken and the boy.

You wrinkled your face in annoyance which stopped you from  walking causing the blonde to glance back, "Hm? Did you forget something?" he asked, clearly oblivious to what you were feeling. You pointed to the end of the hall where they just came from, "Mikey! You can't just scare someone like that... plus, I thought you were going out!" The words sputtered out of your mouth, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. You did make sure to note that you owed your classmate an apology... and maybe more to make up for the intrusion.

"(Y/N)-Chan... that boy is no good!" Mikey huffed out, continuing to pull you forward. "Plus... I wanna walk you home!" he childishly retorted, causing you to shake your head in annoyance again. "Sano... you just have to ask," you mumbled, already to exhausted to argue, not even sure why Mikey wanted to be around you so much. It's not like he had a life-changing conversation with you anyway... but a thought then popped into your head.

...He's going to be a pest to you for sure, he could always be following you around or always barging in during your free time to sit and talk to you. You enjoyed his company for now but there was one thing that was stopping you-

His delinquent lifestyle.

The walk home was a bit different than the last one, the last one had a much more relaxed and peaceful vibe to it. This one felt more... vulnerable and somewhat personal, you saw that Mikey had some kind of expression on his face, and you subconsciously gripped the strap of your messenger back tightly before deciding to ask the looming question. "Mikey..." you hadn't realized how your voice came out soft- almost like a whisper and you were afraid that he didn't hear it. You were prepared to feel embarrassed until the blonde turned his head slightly in your direction. "Hm?" His hum made your stomach feel nervous, and you weren't sure what it was.

"What are you thinking about?" You watched his face for any change, it seemed that he was good at hiding his emotions because he kept the same neutral smile plastered on his face.

It was getting dark while you waited for his response, the sun was setting and it painted this light orange hue over his face. You thought that the light made him seem more vulnerable, he didn't have a scowl or a glare like most delinquents did- he had a more childlike and sweet aura that just drew you more into him.

"Heh, I didn't take you for the kind to be nosy," his response was teasing, and it made you just let out a small snort, you weren't acting out like you had done so earlier or many times before, you had even accepted the teasing response because you felt compelled to show that you were actually worried- or rather curious as to what the delinquent was thinking in.

"I was thinking about something coming up..." was all he ended up saying, and it prompted you to already start thinking of what the boy could mean. Was it a birthday? No- it had to be something that was clearly meaningful to him. The next thing that came to mind was the fact that he was the leader of a gang, could be something related to that?

"Are you going to fight someone?" The words slipped out, but you really couldn't help but ask, your face becoming slightly flushed at the personal question. You begun to panicking now as he stopped in the middle of the side walk which prompted you to stopped next ton him but you couldn't really read his expression. "Ah- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" you really were a stuttering mess, the confident aura slowly deteriorating as the tension became awkward, at least to you.

"(Y/n)-chan... you're so smart," he threw his head back in laughter, clearly enjoying seeing the uptight girl get flustered. "Glad that you came to that conclusion..." you muttered under your breath, not wanting to ruin the smile he had on his lips, it was a nice sight to see according to you- at least that's what you thought. You just ended up elbowing him gently, not wanting to push an answer out of him. "Just... be careful, it's my job as the top student of our class to look out for my peers," you grunted out, trying to find some reason to not worry over him or flatter him.

You both stood there for a few more minutes, the sounds of the cars driving by and the rustling of leaves was the only noise between the two. You hadn't realized you had been staring down at your shoes until Mikey flicked you on the forehead, causing your figure to flinch and cry out instinctively, "Hey!" Your hands flew up to rub the spot where he flicked you. Your eyes snapping up to meet his much darker ones. "You're too sweet, let's get you home nerd," his smile was pulled into his usual lazy one, causing a sigh from you and you continued the walk home.

"Thanks... for walking me home instead, Sano," you stood stopped in front of your house, now turning to face him. "It feels nicer to see you don't go around beating guys up, it feels safe," a snicker left you, enjoying the way his eyes lit up for a bit. "You just like having me around," he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his Toman jacket, his face turning to look at the details of your humble house. "Whatever, just get home safe you dork," you ended up gently shoving him. Now red face at how his childish response got you riled up. "Bye Mikey," you stepped back to signal him to leave with a wave.

Mikey had turned around to leave, his boots clicking against the concrete before he heard his name being shouted out. He had swung around thinking something had happened in the short amount of time. He couldn't imagine to his surprise that it was the (H/c) girl rushing at him, your phone in hand.

{Chapter three}

—————————————————-