#how do you have the heart to design housing on a land where kids are being killed rn to prepare the soil | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

531 notes · View notes

alluringjae · 3 years

Text

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

779 notes · View notes

sg-marshall · 3 years

Text

sims 4 trait legacy challenge

Overview:

This is a ten generation legacy challenge based on some characteristics people can possess. Each generation will be based upon a new trait. The style and gender of the generation is completely up to you (I usually play as women but gender does not matter in this challenge)! Complete all goals before focusing on the next generation. Some may play onto each other, so be sure to look ahead before moving forward! I created an adapted version for people who do not have the packs I used listed below the challenge. I wanted to make sure everyone could play and not feel left out!

Rules:

No cheats or mods!

Start off with $20,000 and a build a house wherever you want one.

Complete all six goals for every generation before moving onto the next one.

Complete the full aspiration and reach level 10 in the set career.

There is no rules when it comes to aging up but I suggest waiting until it is their set birthday.

Play on normal life span.

Packs Used: Base Game, Discovery University, Seasons, City Living, Get to Work, Cats and Dogs, Parenthood, Spa Day, and Knifty Knitting

Generation One: Responsibility

You are a very old fashioned person who believes things have a certain way of being done. Every object in your house has a set place, the person you marry you are supposed to stay with forever, and the world should be a clean place to live in. Never once have you strayed away from your beliefs and you’ve always lived your life by the book. Even once your partner dies and you are left with a child who cannot handle their passing, you stay true to your morals. (EDIT: I have been playing this challenge myself and found that the final level of the aspiration said “have a child master a career”. I do not know if you have to be in the household for that, but if you do, just add this generation to the household of the next one before they master it. It is also okay if you want to ignore/cheat this part.)

Traits: Neat, Good, Green Fiend

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Education (Administrator Branch)

Goals:

Max charisma skill.

Max research and debate skill.

Be married as a young adult, but have your partner die (do not tell your child how) once they reach adult hood. Never remarry.

Have only one child with your partner.

Complete the snowglobes collection and have them set up in a specific room in your house.

Make your neighborhood green and keep it that way.

Generation Two: Determined

You’ve always struggled to cope with the death of your father/mother ever. Maybe that's because you never really knew why they died in the first place. Left with too many questions to handle, you destroy your relationship with your friends and family and run away to find some answers. This entails a trip to Sixam, where you can finally wrap ahead around the passing of you mom/dad. You decide to come home just in time to see your mom/dad just before they too pass away. After a heart-breaking conversation, you realize that all the secrecy was for the best.

Traits: Gloomy, Ambitious, Loner

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Astronaut (Interstellar Smuggler Branch)

Goals:

Max rocket science skill.

Max mischief skill.

Build a rocket ship and fly to Sixam.

Run away and live on your own as a teenager.

Have a horrible relationship with your mom/dad as a young adult, but become best friends with them before they pass away.

Complete the microscope prints collection.

Generation Three: Loving

Your mother/father was extremely distant growing up, which caused you to rely on friends as your family. Your childhood best friend has been with you every step of the way, and you ended up fell in love with them. All you wanted to do was be a mother/father, but found out you could never have children. You adopt a child as a baby and raise them as your own, teaching them everything you wish your parents did for you.

Traits: Romantic, Family - Oriented, Foodie

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Babysitter (Teenager), None (Young Adult and older)

Goals:

Max parenting skill.

Max wellness skill.

Marry your childhood best friend.

Adopt a baby after you get married.

Teach your toddler to max all skills.

Have a side passion of knitting.

Generation Four: Intelligence

You grew up incredibly smart with no knowledge of who your real parents were. However, that never mattered to you. Your adoptive parents have made it their life goal to advance your gifts in every way they know how. Late nights of helping you with homework, early mornings of finishing projects, and spending their fortunes to enroll you into the college of your dreams. All you wanted to do was repay them by becoming a world renowned journalist. You dedicate your best-sellers to them because, after all, they’ll always be your biggest fan.

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Unflirty

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Writer (Journalist Branch)

Goals:

Max logic skill.

Max writing skill.

Reach level eight in five other skills of your choice.

Go to the University of Britechester and study Language and Literature (distinguished).

Join the Debate Guild and reach the highest rank.

Write five novels.

Generation Five: Hard - Working

Fashion has been your passion since you were a little girl/boy. You even asked your parents to stop dressing you as a toddler because the clothes they picked were “not stylish enough.” As a self-proclaimed style icon, you knew you had to make your biggest dream come true: to create your own fashion line. So, as soon as you graduated high school, you packed your bags and moved to the big city - San-Myshuno. There you created your social media platform and blew up! A normal life was never your style, and you made sure to put in as many hours as it would take to achieve all you ever wanted.

Traits: Perfectionist, Self - Assured, Materialistic

Aspiration: City Native

Career: Style Influencer (Stylist Branch)

Goals:

Max photography skill.

Max painting skill.

Must live in San-Myshuno.

Complete the crystals collection.

Hire a nanny for your child and do not spend much time with them.

Gain 10,000 followers on Simstagram.

Generation Six: Resilience

After being known as “the child of the most famous fashion designer” all your life, the city became a toxic place for you. You hated the loud noises, constant stream of people, and just wanted to live a quiet life. You loved visiting your grandmother/father’s house and hearing one of her/his famous stories. You decided to pull inspiration from one of their novels and live off by the coast in the adorable Brindleton Bay. Your passion for crafting and living off the land inspired you to start a small business selling your candles and juice - all locally grown of course.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Creative

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelancer (Simply Crafted)

Goals:

Max fabrication skill.

Reach level eight in both candle making and juice fizzing.

Move to Brindleton Bay as a young adult.

Have four or more kids.

Complete the frog collection.

Never go to an event in the city or visit the city once you are a young adult.

Generation Seven: Carefree

Being in a big family is can be hectic at times. So, you decided to be the happy jokester in the middle just trying to get people to crack a smile. And you got really good at it. As a major people person, you made sure to get to know everyone you meet. You even started a tradition of taking a picture with them so you could never forget that moment. Your friends will always invite you to go out because you are known for being the life of the party. However, the parties you host, are even better. You decide to live life as if it was one big stage, and you’re the star performer.

Traits: Goofball, Clumsy, Outgoing

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Entertainer (Comedian Branch)

Goals:

Max comedy skill.

Max singing skill.

Host a party every week.

Take a photo of every person who visits you.

Marry someone you met just two days before.

Attend every festival or event you are asked to attend.

Generation Eight: Kind

Expected to be just like your mother/father, no one ever assumed you would be the quiet kid who preferred reading over partied. However, that is exactly who you were. When it was that time of the week for a new social event, you either left for the library or locked yourself in your room, praying it ended soon. Your parents noticed you struggled talking to people, so they allowed you to adopt a puppy once you became a teenager. You and your dog instantly became best friends and you took them everywhere. Even though you may not be great with people, being compassionate was a skill you ranked high in. You always looked out for the less fortunate and wanted to provide in anyway you could.

Traits: Vegetarian, Loner, Good

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Career: Gardner (Floral Designer Branch)

Goals:

Max gardening skill.

Max flower arranging skill.

Keep up a garden of just flowers.

Adopt strays: one dog, and two cats.

Marry an ambitious sim.

Donate $100 to charity weekly.

Generation Nine: Impulsive

You grew up hearing stories of your grandmother/father’s so called “wild days” and fell in love with the energy it brought. However, your mom/dad raised you better than to go out spending life as if there was no consequences. Finding a balance started off to be very challenging for you. You could never hold down relationships and even got pregnant/got someone pregnant twice. It wasn't until you became a secret agent and learned how to live two lifestyles: one full of fun and adventure; the other more stable and structured.

Traits: Active, Non-Committal, Bro

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Secret Agent (Diamond Agent Branch)

Goals:

Max fitness skill.

Max handiness skill.

Go to either college for Psychology and play soccer.

Have four failed relationships and never get married.

Have two children from two different relationships.

Move three times once you become a young adult.

Generation 10: Passionate

Because your mother/father’s job required you to move around so much, making real life friends was a lot harder than it seemed. So, you built your relationships within the online community. Every day, you and your closest friends would hop online and compete in tournaments or even play for fun. As the years went on, you became really good at coding and even started working on your own apps. You looked up to the players from ESports Gaming - only the best gamers in the world - and longed to be sitting in one of their spots. And sure enough, after years of perfecting your strategies and game plays, your dreams came true!

Traits: Geek, Hot-Headed, Outgoing

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru (ESport Gamer Branch)

Goals:

Max programming skill.

Max video gaming skill.

Complete the MySims Trophies collection.

Attend and compete in every Geek Con convention.

Make five video games or apps.

Mentor your child/ren for five hours each.

Adaptations:

Gen 1:

If you do not have Discover University, go into the Business career (Management Branch).

Max cooking skill if you do not have Discover University.

If you do not have City Living, complete the postcards collection.

Gen 2:

Unlock the secret world in Oasis Springs if you do not have Get to Work.

Gen 3:

If you do not have Parenthood but do have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Parenthood and Get to Work, max the gourmet cooking skill.

If you do not have Spa Day but do have Knifty Knitting, max the knitting skill.

If you do not have both Spa Day or Knifty Knitting, max the photography skill.

If you do not have Knifty Knitting, have a side passion of photography.

Gen 4:

If you do not have Discover University, read a new skill book every week instead of attending university.

Gen 5:

If you do not have City Living, have the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration.

If you do not have City Living, live in Oasis Springs.

Gen 6:

Do not have a career if you do not have Eco-Lifestyle. Instead, craft item on the woodworking for money.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, max the fishing skill instead of reaching level eight in candle making and juice fizzing.

If you do not have Cats and Dogs, move to Evergreen Harbor.

If you do not have both Cats and Dogs or Eco-Lifestyle, live in Willow Creek

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the self-assured trait instead.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the Angling Ace aspiration.

Gen 7:

If you do not have City Living but do have Get Together, max the dancing skill.

If you do not have both City Living or Get Together, max the mixology skill.

Gen 8:

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, have the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Do not have a career if you do not have Seasons. Instead, sell your plants for money.

If you do not have Seasons but have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Seasons or Get to Work, max the violin skill.

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, but have Seasons, own three bees nests and two insect nests instead of owning pets.

If you do not have both Dogs and Cats or Seasons, have three children instead of having three pets.

If you do not have City Living, have the cheerful trait.

Gen 9:

If you do have Strangerville, go into the Military Career (I do not have it, so I played as a Secret Agent)

If you do have Snowy Escape, have the adventurous trait instead of the active trait (I do not have it but believe they would be adventurous).

If you do not have Discover University, read five skill books over different topics, instead of going to college.

Gen 10:

If you do not have City Living, compete in an online tournament weekly instead of going to Geek Con.

#sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #small creator #newchallenge #lilsimsie #clairesiobhan #maxismatch #maxismatchccworld #legacy #sims4 #basegame #traits

663 notes · View notes

moved2usagiiboo · 3 years

Text

That body belongs to me

Warnings: HardDom!Mitsuya, squirting, spanking, oral male receiving, manipulative!Mitsuya, breeding, spit, female fingering.

Mitsuya, a successful rookie designer and his stunning model girlfriend clash heads when his beloved wishes to wear a dress from another designer to boost her credibility as a model. Her boyfriend wasn't happy with her decision in the least bit.

Author note; I've been sitting on this for a while, it randomly came to me when I was day dreaming in things that would piss Mitsuya off. For some reason I love making guys mad ✊🏿

Mitsuya, ever since he was younger wanted to become a fashion designer and in the face of all adversity he successed. He never complained about living situation, about never having time for himself, nor how he grew up too fast. How he was never able to just be a kid, he faced his problems head on and worked towards his dreams through it all.

He was an inspiration to everyone around him, his sisters, friends, and you.

Y/n Kataga, you met him during your third year of highschool. Your family had just moved to Japan due to a travel assignment your mom accepted. You had been adjusting to your new life in Japan, trying to figure out where things were, what's what. You were trying your best to adapt to the change, for your mom's sake. Lord knows how stress she has been, going through a divorce, raising 4 kids seemingly on her own. You wanted to help her out, even if it was just a little bit.

Your mother has been working so hard that she hasn't been able to explore Japan, going to work and straight home. It's been a few months since you moved to Japan, still being on summer break you didn't have to worry about school just yet. You made your brothers breakfast, cleaned the house, and set out to explore the city.

That's when you came across two little girls crying at the park, you went to see what was the matter with them. At first they were weary of you.

"N-Nii-san said not to talk to strangers..." The older one spoke up.

"Well, I'm a nice stranger who doesn't like seeing such pretty little girls cry. I just wanna help hm?" You spoke in your softest tone to gain the trust of the little girls.

They were still cautious of you but something told them they could trust you, they told you their names. Mana and Luna. They were absolutely adorable, you held the youngest one in your arm while holding the hand of the older one.

"So, what's does your big brother look like?" You asked the girls while walking around the block to see if you could find him, realizing without a description it would be a lot harder to spot him.

"Like a prince!" The little one cheered joyfully. You could only laugh at how she admired her older brother.

"Ey? Is that so?" You looked down at the older sister, she nodded aggressively agreeing with.

"Well, we can't just say we're looking for a prince can we? Any distinctive things about him?"

"Oh oh! He has purple hair!" Mana recalled.

"And he has piercings." Luna interjected, putting a finger to her chin thinking about other things that would help describe her brother, "and he's really tall!" She finished.

"So purple hair, tall, and piercings, got it." You repeated their description of their brother wondering just what type of person he really was. He seemed interesting in the least bit.

The morning sun slowly began to set as you and the girls walked around looking for this boy. You lot went in and out of stores asking around trying to find this mystery brother, you began to think that he left off without them. What a dick.

As the evening sun began to roll in the little girls grew tired, as did you. In the end you all ended up back at the park sitting on the bench with the girls crying themselves to sleep while laying on your lap fearful for what would happen to them.

You caressed their hair trying to comfort them as beads of tears landed onto your pants. Maybe you should file a missing children's report, you zoned out as you tried to think of ways to bring these children back to their parents or brother.

"Mana! Luna!" A gruff voice called out, through the corner of your eye you could see a tall boy running through the streets calling the names of the little girls now sleeping in your lap.

"O-over here!" You yelled waving your hands like a mad man to signal the young man. You caught his attention. He began to run over to the park. As he got closer you could see him, his piercings, the purple hair.. The way his skin looked in the evening light, he really did look like a prince.

"Mana, Luna, look it's your big brother." You softly shook the girls awake.

"Nii-san?" Luna muttered wiping the sleep from her eyes, she looked up and saw her brother standing running towards them.

"NII-SAN!" She shouted, almost tripping trying to get out of your lap she ran up to him hugging his legs.

"Nii-san, nii-san, nii-san." She chanted it like a mantra, "was so scared, thought you left us!" She cried out holding onto his legs as her tears fell.

"I would never leave you guys, never." He comforted her, bending down to her height enclosing her in tight hug. You watched this sentimental moment with a soft smiled curled on your lips.

"Mana, look." You whispered softly. She opened her eyes and saw her brother hugging her older sister.

"Nii-chan!!!" She exclaimed running to him hugging him tightly.

You got up from the bench, dusting yourself off. You looked at the girls and they seemed okay, it was time for you to head home. You turned the opposite way and began to walk off.

"W-Wait!" The boy called out. You hummed in question, turning around to face him. The boy gets up bringing his sisters with him.

"Mana tells me you looked all around the city with them to find me... Thank you." He says gratefully, he bows his head forcing his sisters' heads down in the process with his hands.

"I-its okay! Please lift your heads, seriously!" You stutter out, you lock your hands together behind your back feeling shy all of the sudden, "It wasn't a big deal, they were really sweet." You smiled. They lifted their hands, Mana and Luna locked hands with their older brother watching you with their beady eyes.

"They seem to really like you, they normally aren't so accepting of people." He confessed with a chuckle.

"Maybe I'm special." You smugly say.

"I'd say... Takes a different type of person to spend all day with kids you don't know, just go make sure they get home..." He pauses locking eyes with you, "you're amazing."

He's so genuine every word was spoken with respect and appreciation, you never seen this before in a guy. Not a hint of sarcasm, nothing. Just pure. You felt your face heat up as you locked eyes, you quickly averted your eyes turning your body the opposite direction.

"W-Well, I'm just happy they found you." You stuttered out once again, you covered your face with your hands feeling the heat seep through. How embarrassing. You suddenly shook as your pocket began to vibrate.

"Oh shit!" You closed your mouth, "I mean, oh crud...." You look back at the little girls hoping they didn't catch that. "I, I have to go!" You looked at your phone realizing you had over 60 messages and 9 missed calls from your mother. You began to run off waving goodbye before disappearing into the evening sun. You didn't even catch the young boy asking for your name.

When you made it home, you got yelled at for what seemed like hours. Your mother took your phone and any freedom you thought you had. It was fine though, at least those girls made it home, you didn't have to worry, yet they were still occupying your mind.

Much less they and more like, him. He was running through your mind, over and over you replayed your interaction feeling more and more embarrassed everytime you think about what you did. You felt your heart beat faster when you hear him repeat the words, "you're amazing".

You didn't think you'd see him again, but you did. It was spring, the flowers were blooming, bees were buzzing, birds chirping, sun shining as beautifully as ever and the only thing you could think about was that boy. You didn't even get his name. It's crazy how much a first impression will impact you. You wondered if he went to the same school as you, actually, you hoped so, but that would be too much of a coincidence, it will start to seem like you guys were.... Soulmates. You couldn't help but squeal at the idea, how perfect would your life be.

"Snap out of it!" You slapped your face as you stood outside your classroom, you took in deep breaths trying to calm yourself down. Your first class of the day, go in, make good impressions and you'll be able to make friends. You hoped, you prayed you didn't say anything too embarrassing.

The first introduction went smoothly, despite stuttering a couple of times. You even got a few numbers from some girls in the class who liked the way you did your hair. Things were going great, only, your dream boy wasn't here. Why would he be? Stop being so hopeful for things that will never happen.

You made your way to the home economics club making a delivery for your teacher who was too busy grading papers to make the delivery himself. You had no problem doing it, it was lunch break and you had nothing better to do after all. Maybe you could make some more friends, plus side you could check out the club and see if it's something you want to do. After all, you always wanted to be a model, might as well see what this club is like.

You carried boxes that were twice your height but quite light despite the size of them. You could barely see the door but you could see the class number. Now onto the problem you now have, how to open the door, you held the boxes with both of your hands. If you even move one hand it will all come toppling down. Then comes, the bright idea. You stood there trying to open the door with your foot, trying your hardest not to fall over due to lack of balance.

You should've taken those yoga classes with your mom! Curses.

It wasn't long till the door opened up, your ears perked hearing the sound.

"Wow, you're carrying a lot, you could've called out I would've came sooner." You heard a soft voice speak out, it was smooth like honey yet deep. Whoever this voice belonged to was blessed.

"Sorry! I didn't want to disturb anyone....." You mutter softly.

"Come on in, let me help you." He spoke reaching to grab some of your boxes.

"Nu-huh, I got it!" You chirped back, you heard him laugh softly as you felt his hand touch your back as he guided you into the room, his touch oh-so soft. Normally you would feel uncomfortable with this but with him, it felt okay. Felt nice actually.

You swatted these thoughts following the guide of his hand.

"You can set them here." He stated talking half of your boxes setting them down on the table.

"Hey, I said I had-" Finally you could see, and thank god you could. You locked eyes with your prince. The boy from the park. Both of your eyes widened as it hit you guys.

"You're the guy from the park!"

"You're the girl from the park!"

You both yelled out, you could only laugh at accusations you yelled at the same time.

"Wow, who knew we'd end up in the same school?" Talk about fate." He smiled.

His smile was so bright, just like that day you met. He hasn't changed. He's so pretty....

"Y-Yeah, fate.." You cursed yourself for the person you became when you were around him, your voice felt soft and weak. Your face constantly felt hot, your heart beating out of your chest. Was it...

Love at first sight?

"You know, I never caught your name." He speaks out trying to lightening the mood after seeing your awkward disposition, slightly fidgeting your fingers, twirling the heel of your foot.

"Right! I never caught yours either, I'm Y/n Kataga!" You replied cheerfully with a huge smile that blinded him. He held his hand out to shake yours,

"Takashi Mitsuya, pleasure to meet you Y/n." He smiled back, you looked at his hand and shook it.

That was the start of something bigger than the both of you. You both became close very quickly, bonding over your love of fashion and modeling. He introduced you to his friends, mother, re-introducing you to his sisters, officially. They were so happy to see you again, soon enough you guys were like a small family.

You learned all about him through stories from Chifuyu and Draken, you knew about Toman and his past gang life, how he raised his sisters, you knew all of it. You felt special, even though you weren't present during that time, you felt as if you were there with him. It was perfect and you would cherish these stories forever.

Mitsuya learned everything about you, much less from asking and more by observing. He learned how stressed you'd get when meeting new people, how you bit your lip while concentrating, how you fidget your fingers and advert your eyes in the cutest way when you were feeling shy. He learned it all. He loved learning more about you, you were like a book he couldn't put down. You, Y/n had him completely obsessed, wrapping around your perfect little finger.

One day you told him about how you wanted to be a model, then and there he proposed you model for him and only him. He'd make you beautiful clothes that match your style and you wear them for him.

Of course you agreed, his designs are gorgeous. He's really talented, and now you had an excuse to be around him more. Not like you needed one, all it took was one text and he would be running to you, wherever you were.

Fourth year of highschool, final year, Mitsuya was going to the College of Designs and you had a job opportunity to work under famous models. You were separating, and only after a year of being together. You haven't even confessed yet. To be honest you didn't even know if you should, what if you ruined what you had. You didn't want to ruin a perfectly good friendship, but you wanted to be more than friends. You wanted more than hugs when he dropped you off, you needed more than your hand gently brushing against his. You deserved more than unnoticed glances at him when he was too busy making designs to notice your stares.

But he did, he noticed it all. He knew, kind of. He had a suspicion, after all Hina was whispering things to him about you and your little secret crush. It came out a few months back that you liked this guy but refused to say who he was. You only gave vague details about him, but in those details he saw himself, maybe he was being overzealous but he prayed it was him you liked and not some other guy. Only he could treat you like the princess you were, you were his since the day he met you.

"Y/n, wanna go to the park?" He asked pointing to the small park across the street.

"That's...." You said as you walked towards the park. You glided your finger against the slide where you first found Mana and Luna crying their eyes out.

You made your way over to the swing where you sat down softly smiling at the memories. When you first fell in love.

"Yeah, where we first met." Mitsuya smiled sat the memory, he walked behind you. Taking your hands and placing them on the chains holding the swing up. You got used to these soft touches, you hated them. They were the touches that could lead to more but never did, you despised them but took whatever you could get. You were greedy, you couldn't help it. Mitsuya began pushing you on the swing, comfortable silence fell over the two of you, you felt the wind softly brush against your face as he pushed you at just the right pace, the night moon looking more beautiful than it has before, maybe it's because you're with him.

"You were cute back then." Mitsuya spoke up.

"What? Saying I'm not cute now?" You scoff at his claim. Feigning to be hurt.

"Not what I'm saying." He rolled his eyes, you were his little drama queen.

"Then what are you saying Mr. Takashi Mitsuya?" You asked looking behind you to lock eyes with the man pushing you. He had that look in his eyes, the one he has when he's sketching clothes or working on bringing his design to life, the eyes of complete concentration and admiration. He leaned down, holding either of your eyes with his own bracing himself. He locked his lips with yours without a single word, not even a warning. His lips were slightly cracked yet soft. The kiss was one that told you everything.

"I've always loved you."

Since that day, it was official. You were his and he was yours. You were a picture perfect relationship, arguments were rare with him, he was kind, considerate, supportive. He was just perfect. You took each others' firsts and planned on taking everything from each other till their was nothing left.

Like said before, arguments were rare. Only sparking when Mitsuya wasn't talking care of himself like he should have been to finish a project, or you put yourself at risk for your career.

Arguments weren't a thing with you two, but when it happened, they were heated and here you two are, present day. Hashing it out.

"And I'm telling you I can protect myself!" You shouted at your lover who had his arms crossed peering at you over the kitchen counter.

"It doesn't matter if you can protect yourself or not, he's dangerous." He spat back completely ignoring your statement.

"He's not dangerous, he's an awkward kid trying to get his product out there," you groaned frustrated at your lover, "you know what that's like..." You mumble.

"Yeah, I do, but at least I wasn't shady." He gruffed, rolling his eyes.

"Mitsuya! He's not shady. Ugh!" You exclaimed throwing your hands in the air.

"You're in denial. You're not doing it. Period." He said the turning around no longer facing you, diverting his attention to the food on the stove.

"You don't tell me what I can and can not do." You pettily said walking out of the room and into your own slamming the door. You plopped onto your bed screaming into your pillow. Pissed at how stubborn he could be. You laid face first into the pillow not moving, until you got a ding on your phone. It was a text, you lifted your head to check your phone.

Aykoyama

"This Monday, 8am? How does that sound? 🙂"

Aykoyama, a new designer, you met him on a photoshoot and exchanged numbers. Normally you wouldn't model for anyone other than Mitsuya but you figured once wouldn't hurt. Besides, you need to build your clientele as a model, you would want him to branch out with different models as well. It's for work, nothing more.

Y/n

I'm sorry, I don't think I can anymore-

"You don't tell me what I can and can not do"

'Fuck you Mitsuya' you thought, time to build your clientele you smiled softly to yourself.

Y/n

Sounds great! Can't wait to see what you have in stored!! 😁

You know you didn't do anything wrong, it's not like you cheated on Mitsuya or anything, yet... Why do you feel so shitty.

You curled up in bed feeling as if you burned down an orphanage, the guilt was killing you.

Over the course of the week you and Mitsuya haven't been talking. You both went to work, lived your life as if the other person didn't exist. It was more you holding a grudge and Mitsuya giving you your space. He'd simply sigh when you would leave the room after he'd enter it, or how you would sleep on the couch to stay away from him.

Slowly it started to piss him off, who the hell said you could ignore him? He's just worried about you. You'll get over it, he'll apologize and you'll say sorry back. Soon you'll be in his arms again waiting for your daily kisses. Like normal.

Yet that time didn't come, what did come was the event. You left the house earlier than excepted, earlier than Mitsuya ever woke up.

He woke up to an empty bed, which has been this week's normal, he checked the time on his phone, 12:50 pm, he slept pretty late today.

No matter, it was his off day. He yawned with a stretch, pushing himself off the bed to check to couch and you weren't there. Matter of fact, there was no sign that you even slept there.

The house was void of all signs of life besides the small signs of his existence that he left laying around the house. He checked his phone to see if you left any message yet you haven't. Now he's worried. He sighs and texts your manager, Polly.

Boss's hubby

Have you seen Y/n?

Read 1:03 pm

"What the hell?" He mumbled to himself running his free hand through his hair.

Boss's hubby

Polly?

Wifey's manager

Sorry! I was busy doing Y/n hair! But she's here with me, we're getting ready for the Gala tonight, you should come 🤧

Boss's hubby

Gala?

Wifey's manager

She didn't tell you? She must've forgot, silly her. Shes helping Mr. Aykoyama With his debut today at tonight's Gala!

He couldn't believe it, you deliberately hide the fact that you were still working with him after he told you not to. It's safe to say he was livid, which is rare. Mitsuya is a calm man, after raising two little girls he had to be, you were one of the only people who knew how to push his buttons and do it correctly.

Boss's hubby

She must've, send me the address and the best time to arrive

Wifey's manager

Of course! The theme is "Golden shine" here's the address;

Read 1:20 pm

The time read 6:30 pm, just five minutes before the red carpet walk, you were sweating buckets. The event was fairly small but had a lot of big faces there in the modeling and designing industry. You couldn't help but be hit with a huge wave of guilt when you thought about what you're doing.

You snuck behind his back to go to a Gala, with another man, after he told you not to. Maybe you did it out of spite or you wanted to prove something but this looks bad all the way around. You're even wearing someone else's dress, you promised. You promised to only wear his clothes.. But you can't deny, the kid has talent. You look breath taking and Polly did a stunning job on your hair and makeup.

Your hair was put into a low bun with a deep side part. Your makeup was light but effective, you had soft red lips with a neutral soft glam brown and yellow look that complimented your eyes perfectly, and the dress.... Lord.

The way it framed your body, showing off each all your curves, the way it instantly perked up your breasts, cupping them like a corset would. It was a great dress but, it wasn't Mitsuya's. As you wore the dress you didn't feel that rush of excitement that you felt when you wore your lover's clothes. You felt tainted wearing this, it made you want to rip it off your body, but this is your job. This is what you signed up for as a model. You can't back out...

"Carpet time in minus 5 minutes!" One of the crew members shouted into the changing room for the models and other crew members to hear.

"You ready?" Polly asked popping up behind you out of nowhere, scaring the hell out of you causing you to shake.

"Didn't mean to scare ya. Nerves?" She questions holding your hand to try and comfort you.

"Yeah... First time doing this." You muttered staring down at the floor feeling almost lightheaded.

"Don't worry, you'll do great." She cheers you on, "Besides, I invited your fiance so you don't have to worry." She smiles giving you the finger heart sign, clearly proud of what she did.

"You did what!?" You shouted softly gripping her shoulders, "Why did you do that?"

"Because he should be here to support you? Is everything okay?" She asks now worried looking at your form.

"Carpet time people, let's go!" The same crew member shouted. The models get up making their way to the door.

"You too Y/n!" The crew member calls you out after not moving. Polly pushes you wishing you a good luck to the door.

You had to calm down, you had to do well. You have to do well not only for yourself but for Mr. Aykoyama. You can't let your personal life get in the way of your work, you're a professional Y/n. Act like it.

You are one of the last people to get on stage, you grab your umbrella prop and begin to sway your hips as you walked down the stage. You looked over to the side to meet eyes with the patrons there, you meet eyes with a happy Mr. Aykoyama who's giving you thumbs up and a not so happy Mitsuya who's leaning forward in his seat, his elbows on either side of his knees with his hands clenched together.

He just watches you, stares you down, your every move, the sway of your hip, the way you averted your eyes when you saw him.

You met the end of the stage and did put a hand on your hip, the other hand pulling the umbrella back giving the lookers a closer, more clearer view of the dress that was on your body. You tried you best to be professional, to focus on your job, but the way Mitsuya glared at you, you could feel your core heating up. You were honestly terrified.

You spun on your heels turning around to leave the stage as the onlookers clapped cheering your name. Mitsuya didn't move a muscle, he just flashed a tight close eyed smile your way.

You're fucked.

The event couldn't seem to go any slower, Mitsuya was standing behind you with his hand on your back gripping your waist shining a soft smile towards the fellow designers there. He hasn't said a single word, just holding a death grip on your waist as you socialize with the people there.

"Y/n! You were amazing out there!" Mr. Aykoyama cheered running up to you, he had a glisten in his eyes, his smile was so wide.

"It was all thanks to your design, it's stunning." You said returning his smile.

"No-no, I can't take all the credit... The way you strutted down the runway with grace and ease, everybody was enchanted by you.." He scans your body blatantly ignoring your lover's presence.

"She is beautiful isn't she?" Mitsuya interjects, holding his hand out towards the younger man standing in front of him, "Takashi Mitsuya, senior designer." He introduced himself with a smile that seems genuine at first glance yet his filled with annoyance and slight anger. It's a smile that could kill a man.

Mitsuya has mastered the art of passive aggressiveness, especially working in the fashion department, he had to learn or he would be eaten alive.

"A-ah, yes! I'm Aykoyama Lin!" He shakes his hand. The young man winces at the grip your fiance had on his hand, "Firm grip! My father would love you." He laughed and Mitsuya joined only entertaining his bullshit until the event was over.

"Thank you for giving my beloved fiance here the opportunity to work with you. However, she must politely decline any future work with you." Mitsuya pulls you by your waist closer to him, you could only blush looking down at the ground.

"Excuse me?" He glared at Mitsuya, "Whatever do you mean?"

"Ah, well, there's no reason for her to work with you any further, after all...." He pauses, "She has me." He gruffed out, "Now if you'll excuse us, my princess seems to feel sick. We'll return the dress immediately."

"No, no, that's not necessary, she can keep it!" He beamed. Mitsuya just flared at him, taking his anger out on your already bruised hips, tightening his grip on your waist.

Mitsuya said nothing else, he turned around and guided you out the building. He walked you to the car garage. He swiftly pushed you against a random wall in the parking garage, pushing you by your hips. Smashing his lips against yours, taking your breath from your mouth with his own, the grip on your waist lightened up but was soon taken over by the same pressure being around your neck. You gasped into the kiss as you felt his hand ring around your neck. His tongue pushed further into your mouth exploring your mouth, swirling his tongue with your own.

He applied more pressure to your neck as he deepened the kiss. You both pulled away to gain air, your chests heaving trying to pull oxygen back into your body.

"S-Suya—" You moaned out.

"Take it off." He gruffed out of breath.

"What?" You questioned him, looking baffled.

"You heard me, take the dress off. I'm not fucking you with another man's design on you." He spat. You must've been taking too long, Mitsuya span you around making your back face him, he unzipped the dress, gently removing your arms from the sleeves before pulling it down.

There you stood, practically naked in a parking garage, you thanked the stars that you left early, it seemed to be only the two of you. You felt the cold air hit you like a tidal wave, goosebumps covered your body as you wrapped our arms around your most delicate places.

How shameful, you should be ashamed. Embarrassed, disgusted, yet there was a pooling in your panties that said otherwise, Mitsuya was never aggressive with you, he treated you like a precious China set, something to be protected. Now you felt like nothing more than a cheapened slut.

"Such a slutty little thing, you didn't wear a bra?" He whispered into your ear, licking your neck before biting it, leaving small bruises. You felt Mitsuya cup your breast from behind, massaging your nipples in between his fingers, the cold air aided in making them hard under his touch.

"W-Was told not to— Ah." Moaning out as he caressed your breasts and biting your neck.

"You're enjoying this hm? Being violated in a parking lot, here I thought you enjoyed being pampered..." He ranted on, "Being treated like a princess, if you wanted to be treated like a cock hungry slut you should've just said that." He cooed, leaving a trail of kisses on your shoulder.

"Don't wanna be treated like a slut.. Suya." You mumbled, feeling his hot breath against your shoulder, his gentle kisses, knowing this was the last time tonight that he would be this kind.

He turned you around, taking his suit jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, buttoning just the middle of the jacket.

"Wouldn't want you to catch a cold before I finished with you."

Your body felt hot, hotter than ever. Your panties getting wetter by the minute. He walked you to his car with his hand back on it's designated place, your hips. Digging into his right pocket with his free hand to grab his car keys. He unlocked the car door, opening the passenger side for you. He tossed you in the seat, muttering a buckle up before closing the door and getting in himself.

As soon as he got into his seat, he grabbed you by your hair, pushing your face towards his own, locking his lips with yours once again. He licked your lips with your tongue signalling you to open your mouth further. Moaning into the kiss as Mitsuya made his way to your wet panties.

"Soaking are we?" He chuckled into the kiss, pushing your panties to the side prodding his finger at your entrance. You struggled to kiss him back as his finger pushed passed your tight entrance, moving at a gentle pace, hitting all the right places. You moaned louder as you felt his finger curl inside you hitting your G-spot ever so softly with the tip of his finger.

"I've barely done anything to you doll... You can last longer than that can't you?"

He pushed another finger past your entrance, scissoring them together inside of you. You gripped his hair trying your best to continue the pace of the kiss but struggling as he was teasing your hole. You broke the kiss,

"Suya! R-Right there—" You moaned as he moved his fingers in and out, pushing them against your G-spot just before taking them out all to do it again, inching you towards your orgasm,

"M'gonna cum Suya~" You purred out. Arching your back wanting to feel more of his fingers. "Close, m'so close...."

Just before you were able to have your high he pulled out, before you could protest he shoved his fingers in your mouth muffling you.

"You thought it was gonna be easy? Hm? Whoring yourself out to another designer, going behind my back? What makes you think you should cum?"

He shoves his fingers down your throat forcing you to gag on his slender digits.

"Bad girls like you should be punished, not rewarded." He pulls his fingers from your throat watching you cough catching air, he pulls your face towards his once more before, forcing your mouth open with his thumb before spitting in your mouth.

"Swallow." With that you struggled to gulp down his saliva, yet you did, with the bob of your throat you swallowed what he gave you. Opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him that you swallowed it all, hoping he'd praise you.

"What? Wanna be praised for doing the bare minimum? You're gonna have to do a lot more than that. Now spread your legs."

You opened your legs further allowing him a full view of your soaking area, he brushed his hand past your clit, only to reach into his glove compartment. He pulled out a small pink bullet vibrator, he looked at you with a closed eye smile. He teasingly poked your entrance with the toy, nudging you with just the tip. You let out a soft hum of pleasure as the vibrator brushed across you.

You were so aroused you couldn't handle it, you just wanted him to fuck you, pin you down and use you however he wanted to. Your walls clenched at the thought of being his ragdoll.

"What are you dousing off for?" He scoffed in annoyance before pushing the vibrator in, "You better not make a mess in my car. If you go the entire ride without cumming, I'll fuck you. If not, you'll go to sleep without feeling my cock inside this slutty pussy of yours."

"T-Thats just mean Suya—" Being cut off by the vibrator turning on, feeling it deep in your core. The pleasure was immense, it felt so good, so deep inside of you. You bit your finger muffling your moans, not wanting to show Mitsuya how good it felt. You couldn't cum yet.

"What? Gonna cum already?" He cooed rubbing your clit with his fingers, whispering against your neck, peppering you with small kisses. "You can do it, go ahead princess, cum." He encouraged you, he wanted you to suffer. He was pissed despite how sweet he cooed at you.

"D-Dont wanna! Wanna cum on your cock Suya!" Your back arched as he picked up the pace on your sensitive nub.

"Yeah? Wanna cum all over my cock? Wanna feel it deep inside you?"

"Yes Suya, m'wanna feel you inside, only you."

He moved his face away from your neck, the movement on your clit stopped.

"Then you better not cum before we get home."

The drive home was long and excruciating. Mitsuya purposely grazed your clit or breasts to amplify your pleasure, trying to get you to lose yourself and have an orgasm. You were fighting it so hard.

The car was filled with your soft moans and whispers, you chanted his name begging him to turn down the vibrator, it was too much. You couldn't handle it, he only replied telling you,

"If you want my cock then you'll be a good girl and hold it in."

And so you did. He purposely took the long way home, followed and obeyed every traffic law to the T. He even had the audacity to make a pit stop to get some more fabric while he made you wait in the car.

You couldn't help but cry as you forcefully help in your upcoming orgasm. Tears ran down your face, Mitsuya cooed at you caressing your face kissing your tears away. You were doing good, you were doing well, so well. You watched as Mitsuya pulled into your driveway feeling great relief.

Your relief was brief, as he parked in the driveway you felt his fingers push the vibrator further into you.

You arched your back, letting out a loud moan in response.

He had that look in his eyes. His orbs were focused on you entirely, watching your every facial expression. The way your eyebrows furrowed together, your mouth agape, the way you put your fingers to your lips trying to muffle your own moans.

He selfishly captured your lips in a kiss once again, sucking on your tongue, exploring your mouth as if he's never tasted you before. His free hand turned up the power of the vibrator.

"Suya— too much! I don't wanna-" You panicked at the rush of pleasure.

"Then don't."

You couldn't help it, you were doing so well, so well... All of those efforts gone as you released onto the vibrator, your juices dripping out of you as you closed your legs tightly letting out a prolonged moan, coming to your release.

Mitsuya clicked his tongue as he watched you come undone on the vibrator. Your chest heaving up and down as you tried to catch your breath after having such an intense orgasm.

"N-No, unfair! Suya, please." You pleaded gripping his dress shirt,

"How unfortunate, we just made it home too.." He sighed, looking down at his hardened cock confined in his dress pants. Bringing your shaky hand to feel his cock through his pants,

"It was all ready for you too, at least you got to cum hm?" He smiled, before helping you get out of the car and bringing you inside the house, placing you on the couch. He undoes his tie and kicks off his shoes, leaving you a broken mess on the couch.

"I'm going to shower first okay?" He chirps as kissing your forehead before leaving.

"Suya please!" You cried out, "M'sorry, m'so sorry" You begged as he walked off,

"Princess, don't be a brat. You knew the deal, you agreed to it."

"Please don't leave me like this, I— need you..." You walked up to him pressing your breast against his back, "Need you so bad.."

He hummed in response,

"Now why should I? Last time I checked, I told you not to work with Mr. Aykoyama didn't I? You didn't listen, you wanted to do your own thing, surely you can cum on your own." He smiled as he faced you. That same smile he has plastered on his face all night, the one that says he's pissed but not showing it.

"You even went as far as ignoring me, sneaking behind my back.." He trails off, wrapping his hand around your throat, "Why should I do anything for you?"

"... Y-Youre right, Suya, I was being stubborn, I didn't listen like I should have... M'sorry, it won't happen again." You cried out, coming down to your knees slowly rubbing his entrapped cock with your hand. "Never again, will be your good girl." You promised as you undid his belt buckle, working your way to his zipper. "I love you Suya... Love you so much."

"You want it so bad? Do it yourself." He spat while watching you pull down his pants, he unbuttoned his shirt to get more comfortable, you were still in his suit jacket before telling you to take it off.

And you did, along with your panties.

You kissed his pelvis making your way down to the hem of his underwear, the final layer before meeting with his harden cock. Despite being angry he could never say no to your pretty mouth, his cock always told you want he truly wanted even if his mouth didn't.

You pulled down the final layer, his cock sprung out gently hitting your face. You stared at it like it was the greatest thing in the world. Your eyes sparkled as you saw it, you began kissing it from the hilt up to the tip.

Even his cock looked angry, pale base color with light blue veins pulsating against your lips.

#tokyo revengers mitsuya #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #mitsuya smut #mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya

203 notes · View notes

thisisarcanereverie · 3 years

Text

Something ‘Bout You (Biker Natasha x Reader) Chapter 1

A/N: Hey this is a new series! I’ve been meaning to write something for her for a while now so here ya go enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST

MCU MASTERLIST

NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE FREE AND ENCOURAGED

SUMMARY: After Wanda announces her engagement a familiar face returns into your life.

“(Y/n)!”

You heard the familiar chime of the doorbell and the familiar excited voice of your friend fill the relatively empty store. You whipped your head to her just in time to see her barrelling toward you and captured you in a bone crushing hug.

“Whoa there Wands,” You said as you returned the hug, “did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?”

Wanda quickly released you from her vice grip, “oh nothing much happened,” Wanda paused before holding up her left hand, “except this.” On her left hand on her ring finger sat a beautiful vintage ring.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim smiling as you grab her hand to get a closer look at the ring, it was simple in design but it really suited Wanda. ‘When did this happen?!”

“Last night,” Wanda reveals happily her smile never deterring, “Vis and I were watching reruns of the Dick Van Dyke Show, I told him how Mary’s ring was beautiful and next thing I know he asks ‘is it as beautiful as this ring’ next thing I know he’s down on one knee with the ring in his hand asking me to marry him.”

“I’m so happy for you and Vis.” You congrat Wanda as you and her continue to talk about her engagement for a few more minutes.

“Actually Vis and I were planning on going to the city tonight to celebrate, are you busy?” Wanda asks. You take a quick look at your calendar finding nothing but closing the store on the agenda for tonight.

“Nope,” You respond, “just have to close the store.”

“Close early and Vis and I will pick you up,” Wanda said, “We’re bringing Pietro, Steve, Bucky, and Monica with us.”

You hesitate for a bit, but you take one look into Wanda’s pleading eyes, the same eyes that have gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble since highschool, next thing you know you’re nodding your head in agreement.

Wanda lets out a small squeal before enveloping you once again in a small hug before saying goodbye and that Pietro will pick you up by seven.

As you continue about your day, stacking books and working the register you start to wonder when the last time you actually had a date was.

During the slow rush you decide to check your calendar again. You flip through each page until finally you land three months prior where you had plans to meet up with the local coffee barista at some bar you can’t remember the name of. What you do remember is that the date ended with you buying a half quart of ice cream and watching reruns of Gilmore Girls.

You check the clock and check the store to find it empty. You decide now would probably be a good time to close and to start getting ready for the night in the city with Wanda and the rest.

You turn the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and push all thoughts of dating to the back of your mind.

---

You had just slipped your shoes on when you heard Pietro knock on your door in the familiar pattern he’s done since high-school.

You answer the door to reveal Pietro. You always thought he had looked handsome in that mischievous way. But when he wears that white button up and slacks with his hair gelled back he is a special type of handsome.

“Well damn don’t we look fancy tonight?” You say as Pietro noticeably checks you out in the same appreciation. You did a small turn in your black dress that fell just mid thigh.

“And you don’t look too bad yourself Princeza,” Pietro said as he offered his arm in an overdramatic gentlemanly style. Which you responded in kind, laughing slightly as you made sure to lock the door behind you before finally heading out.

---

You were back in your parents backyard, sitting in that hammock with a book in your hands. Nancy Drew had wormed her way into eleven year old you’s heart, with all of her adventures and detective skills.

Just as you were about to reach the climax of the book you heard a familiar voice.

“Whatcha reading today?” You look away from the book and spot a familiar blue haired girl the same age. She was the neighbor that moved in about three years ago, Natasha, who quickly became your best friend.

“Nancy Drew,”

“Again?”

“There’s more than one Natty.” You responded, next thing you know the book is lifted from your hands and Natasha is hovering over you with the book in her hands.

“Naaat.” You whine as you try to reach for the book only to have her expertly move it away from you.

“C’mon,” Natasha says as she makes her way to the bushes separating your yard and hers, “adventure awaits.”

You struggle a little as you make your way out of your hammock and through the lush bushes to Natasha who slips through the crack in between.

“Nat,” you warn lightly.

“I promise I’ll give you the book back,” Natasha promises, “but first we go on an adventure! Grab your bike and meet me out front!”

“Where exactly is this adventure?”

“Just grab your bike, chatty cathy!”

You hear her footsteps rush over to her bike as you rush to yours.

By the time you let your parents know you’ll be riding your bike and get to the front of your house Natasha is already waiting for you.

Together you both rode your bikes until finally settling on a clearing near the local park. There was this big oak tree and in front of it a huge rock as well covered in green moss.

For a while both you and Natasha played by either climbing on the rock and proclaiming yourselves rulers of the land, climbing the tree, playing pretend in the most kid way possible.

However you would catch glimpses sometimes, you didn’t know what, but it made you worry for her. Like how sad she looked, or scared.

Finally, after being worn out by playing you both lay on the grass beneath you and watch as the fireflies began to dance around the big oak looking like thousands of moving stars.

You were enjoying the bit of peace and silence when you felt her hand hold yours. You look over and see the blue haired girl still staring at the millions of fireflies with a smile on her lips.

“Thank you for being my best friend.” She said gently as you looked away from her and continued watching the fireflies dance, until the sun finally set and it was time to go home.

She never did give that book back.

---

“Princeza, we're here.” You hear the familiar accented voice say. You slowly open your groggy eyes to see the glittering lights of the city.

“How long was I out?”

“An hour.”

“So the whole car ride,” You say, you could see Pietro nod from the driver's side, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I was asleep the whole car ride, you were probably bored.”

“No, I wasn’t bored,” Pietro said, “I know you haven’t been sleeping much because of the store.”

Here it comes.

“You need to start working less Princeza,” Pietro continued concerned, “you spend all your waking hours at the store, tending to your books, and life is going to pass you by.”

“Pietro-”

“I don’t mean to be harsh or rude,” Pietro quickly added, “it’s just I see you all the time at the store and nowhere else lately. I get that the store is demanding, but just try to make some time for yourself. Promise me?”

You look at him and can’t refuse.

“I promise.”

You can start relaxing tonight.

---

You came to quickly realize that clubbing really wasn’t your thing.

A pile of random sweaty bodies ground on each other on the dance floor to music that hurt your eardrums.

It wasn’t that you were judging anyone for liking this atmosphere, it just wasn’t your cup of tea, you preferred to stay on the sidelines and watch your friends dance.

And the full bar proved that you weren’t the only one.

You had looked away for a second to order a beer when you spotted someone familiar.

It was dark save for the flickering lights that illuminated her every once in a while. You couldn’t place where you knew her but you knew that you knew her. It was in the way she walked with a certain grace and her eyes were sharp enough to cut through you and you imagined her tongue was the same way.

She must have noticed you staring because the next thing you know she’s staring right at you. Your eyes lock and that’s when it hits you.

You didn’t recognize her without her blue hair.

Natasha.

You panic and turn back to the bar to order that beer you were going to order about five minutes ago. You mentally beat yourself up, if you didn’t look like a creep before you definitely did now.

You were so busy mentally assaulting yourself that you didn’t notice the redhead sauntering her way to you and sit on the empty barstool next to you.

“Well if it isn’t Nancy Drew.”

You turn your head and see Natasha there beside you. Her hair was shoulder length and no longer blue. Now her hair was it’s natural elegant red color, her blue eyes sharper than you remember as well as her cheekbones. You noticed hints of tattoos peeking out from the collar and sleeve of her leather coat.

“You never did return that book.”

You both couldn’t help the laugh that erupted. Even though it’s been years somehow it almost feels like no time has passed.

Almost.

“So what’ve you been up to?” Natasha asked, “still into books?”

“Uh yeah,” You confirm, “I actually own a bookshop back home.”

You see Natasha smile from ear to ear before taking a sip of what was your beer now it seems to be adopted by Natasha.

“That’s so you,” Natasha said before taking another sip from the beer bottle.

“Well what about you?” You ask, “what have you been up to?”

You could see the hesitancy in Natasha’s face, just as she was about to answer, however you see a light brown haired male come up beside her.

“Hey Nat, I hate to interrupt but we got a Budapest situation over here.” Natasha swerved her attention to where he pointed at the blonde who was obviously drunk off her ass putting a six foot tall man into a choke hold. Which you had to admire and be impressed at.

“I guess that’s my cue Nancy Drew,” Natasha said as she took one last sip from the beer bottle before abandoning it. As she was making her way through the crowd but before she got too far you saw her turn around.

“What was the name of your bookstore again, Nancy Drew?!” She yelled over the crowd.

“Oh-um- Summertime Stories!” You call out, you catch a glimpse of something in her eyes before it disappears.

“I’ll see ya soon Nancy Drew!”

Oh how right she was.

#natasha romanoff #natasha and yelena #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #Natasha romanoff x reader #MCU #mcu natasha romanoff #marvel characters #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #x reader #x reader fluff #x reader smut

153 notes · View notes

thesmokingguns · 3 years

Text

Not with the band

summary: hi everyone, I wrote this for @ayablackwood . I hope you like it!

A/N: this is my longest oneshot and I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you for Reading. If you want to make a request for a fix either message me or you can request HERE. Thank you!

tag list: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore

Word Count:6102

Izzy POV

The first thing I noticed about her was the big brown eyes. Sad eyes that showed she had lived her life and seen a few things in her time. I had never noticed a girl's eyelashes before but I could see the long black lashes sweeping down, staring at her drink before looking back up almost doing a reset. Maybe she was like me and thought that these parties took a lot out of a person. The constant talking to strangers, faking politeness or interest in a conversation with someone.

I got a reputation for being indifferent, a quiet introspective sort of person who didn't care about others. But that wasn’t who I was; I just found most people were just boring to be around. There are only so many times you can talk about your band before you realize that it’s not your band they care about. Most girls I met just wanted to sleep with me. It wasn’t even that they wanted to sleep with me but that they wanted to sleep with the guitarist from Guns n Roses. And that was fine. I had no problem sleeping with the girls who didn’t require me to put in any effort because I wasn’t going to waste my time trying to woo them.

But as I watched this stranger across the room, I couldn't help but start to think about who she was. I noticed she had a nervous tick of pushing her straight black hair behind her ear when men came up to her and when she was talking to her friends she’d place her hands on their forearms almost whispering secrets into their ears. She played with the tab of her beer can, the one she only sipped a couple times in the hour that I had been watching her. She wasn’t wearing skyrocketing heels or lace dresses. She had on a button up summer dress with a collar and short sleeves. Every once and a whole she’d stuff her hand in a pocket, letting her eyes sweep the room for someone she knew. She looked ready for a church picnic and not the rock and roll party at a beach house that would probably stretch though the entire weekend. She didn’t even seem to notice that she wasn’t all teased up 80’s glam; she was comfortable in her.

I had no idea who she was or who she came with but I couldn’t stop staring at her. She drank beer instead of the usual wine or booze that the girls at these parties consumed and instead of hanging out near a band member she was around other girls. They all seemed to come over to her, leaning close to whisper secrets in her ear, the sly smiles they spread across their faces. How did she know so many people here and I had no idea who she was? Finally, Axl’s girlfriend laced their arms, dragging her over to the couch where Axl and I were both sitting, giving me a chance to get to know her.

“This is Y/N, she’s my best friend. Y/N this is Axl and Izzy.'' When the introduction was done she pulled her down on the couch, our legs touching from the close proximity. I watched her lick her lips, turning to lean close to me so she could talk and have me hear what she was saying. I could smell her shampoo, like lavender, and feel the warmth of her body as she gave me a conspiratory look. It was intoxicating being this close to her and having her overwhelm my senses.

“I’m everyone’s best friend because I’m usually the designated driver.” she joked, the smile breaking out over her face like she was sharing this joke with me. Holy shit, it was like staring into the sun when her smile spread across her face, warming up those sad brown eyes and showing a twinkle of joy.

Hook, line, and sinker. I never reacted to a girl like this before and now this stranger was beside me on the couch and I couldn’t even think of something to say. All I could think about was how soft her hair looked and how much I wanted to wrap my fingers around a silky lock. Or how her nails weren’t painted the fashionable red or the neon colors but this soft pink. Everything about her seemed to stick out or maybe she was just sticking out to me because I was already obsessed with her.

“I’m Izzy.” She gave me a look and I realized that introductions had already been made and I was just making a fool of myself. This is exactly what I get for spacing out in so many conversations with girls. I lost any sort of ability to communicate with someone. “Do you want to get out of here?” Following up my reintroduction of myself with a line that I had used on a bunch of one night stands that I had wanted to stop talking about. It was that instant feeling of regret seeping into me.

“No, I don’t.” She didn’t give me any other explanation, only got up from the couch, headed over to a group of people and blended into them with ease. She hadn't even given me a look when she left.

“You have been staring at Y/N all night and I got her to come and sit down next to you and not even five minutes later you screwed it up. What did you say to her?” the girl on Axl’s lap asked me. I felt like a kid being scolded by my parents and even felt a burning in my cheeks.

“I’ll fix it, don’t worry.” I was standing up, walking across the room to where she was standing. It had been months, maybe years since I went up to a girl and not just let them come up to me. It was like she felt me coming, her head turning, eyes meeting mine and suddenly I was forgetting everything that I had prepared in my mind. Just the way she looked at me had me forgetting the apology that I had in my mind. “Just grabbing a beer.” I reached around her grabbing a beer from the bucket on the table watching her eyes follow me. Smooth. So fucking smooth.

It had been a week since the party and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’d go to sleep thinking of her. She’d come to me in my dreams with those brown eyes waking me up. I couldn’t stop thinking about how the side of her lips curled up and her whole face lit up when she smiled. I started to realize I was putting her on this pedestal, obsessing over Y/N, a girl I had met once in passing at a party.

So I did the only thing that I could do. I called up Axl to have his girlfriend plan a double date so that I could see her again. With the double date she would have her friend there for support but she would also be there with me. This would give me the opportunity to charm her and show her I was capable of conversations that were bigger than just introducing myself or getting a beer.

The girls were at the bar and my heart got caught in my throat when I saw her. She was wearing a silky green dress, clinging to the curves of her body. Cherry painted lips, full and just needing to be kissed, were in a smile as she sipped a wine glass. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the night.

Her eyes landed on mine across the room, the soft smile she was wearing blooming larger as she shook her head, leaning forward to her friend before the pair of them were both headed over to us.

“I had a feeling it would be you here tonight.” she had that glint in her eyes again, “What was your name again? I don’t think that I caught it the first time.” the way she teased me so easily put me at ease. I didn't feel the stress like I had the night of the party. She was bringing me out of the shyness, fixing the way my mouth was tongue tied.

Y/N sat next to me at dinner, tight in the booth as we talked about all the usual things people talked about but instead of hitting the highlight rail and painting a rainbow over her life she was raw. When we talked about family she told me about her grandparents who had raised her and Aunts and Uncles who stepped in where her parents failed. She knew about the band because she was actually best friends with Axl’s girlfriend so when she looked at me there was a skeptical look in her eyes as if she knew the secrets and shames of my life. But there wasn't any judgement.

Y/N asked me questions, not about the band and what it felt like to be on stage or if I’d write a song about her but different questions like what it felt like when I held a guitar for the first time and how many songs did he write that never made it past notebooks. We talked and talked, snug in the booth together seeming to forget it was a double date and we just fell into a conversation together.

Finally a waiter came over to us letting us know that the place was closing and that the two of you had to leave. Time had completely gotten away from me as I had stayed wrapped up in her. Looking across the table I saw Axl and his date gone.The check was on the table but before I could reach for it she had thrown money down, smiling up at the waiter and letting him know it was all set.

“I’m supposed to pay for that.” I said as she scooted gently pushing me out of the booth. Her shoulders shrugged as she walked out of the restaurant, not waiting for me or seeming to care if I was behind her.

The sound of her heels on concrete, gave away which direction she was headed. Her bare shoulders were held high even in the cool night and I was rushing to be by her side, shrugging out of the denim jacket and wrapping it around her. The kind brown eyes looked up at me, skeptical for a second.

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Izzy.” her voice was clear and came out easily, “And I don’t date musicians.” She was matter of fact, shutting off the fact that we had just had a good night together and had gotten to know each other more.

I had watched the way she talked, confirming some of her nervous ticks. Like how she would look down and reset, sweeping her eyes around the room when she wasn’t comfortable. That had stopped about twenty minutes into dinner when we started to get along. There was no beer can tab to bend this way and that so instead her finger swirled around the top ledge of her wind glass in between small sips of wine.

“I never said anything about sleeping with you or dating you.” I said as we got to the corner. Her brown eyes were narrowed, regarding me with a strange curiosity like she was trying to make out what I wanted from her. “I want to kiss you though.” My hand slid through her black hair, as soft as silk, just like I had known it would be. She gasped, her mouth opening in a slight gasp not expecting me to be so close to her. Our eyes met and I watched her search me, as if there would be answers behind my eyes that I hadn’t spoken to her.

“If you kiss me I’ll never speak to you again. I don’t need boys kissing me.” her brown eyes were serious. There was an interesting spark there and it wasn’t like she was telling me that I couldn't kiss her. Y/N hadn’t moved an inch from my arms, she stayed looking up at me with my hands on her lower back. Having her in my arms felt good, not like the carnal or feral pleasure that I had with random girls. It was like we could communicate without words

“I’m not a boy, I’m a man.” The way she smirked at that statement was encouraging but there was still the fear in her eyes that I wanted to see gone. How could I get those brown eyes to only shimmer in happiness. “Let me walk you home.” I pulled back, watching the way her eyes sparkled for a second. It was the first time I felt like I had made the right choice.

Two days later I was sitting on the couch backstage, my fingers picking idolly on the guitar when two giggling girls burst into backstage. And there she was, eyes shiny with joy as she laughed with her friend. The pair of them seemed almost surprised that they were in the room with the band. Y/N looked up, eyes landing on me as if she knew exactly where I would be.

I don’t know why her eyes knocked the wind out of me everytime that they looked at me but I was made stupid in her presence. She didn’t come over to talk to me, staying with her friend. Her black hair was tied back in a red ribbon bow. If she could have reached the ribbon I’m sure she would have pulled it out; she was playing with the end of her ponytail. I didn’t know why she was nervous but I gave her space watching how every few minutes she would look down her eyes looking around until they landed on me. When we would make eye contact she seemed frustrated by it and would pull her eyes away.

I had her phone number which I had called several times since the double date without her picking up once. There had to be a reason she was ignoring me. I had thought of around 100 in the time that I had been obsessing with her. The biggest one, the one that made the most sense is she wasn’t into me because there was someone else. The logical part of my brain accepted this but the other part wanted to fight for her, prove that I was worth it.

Before we went on stage, I looked over at her again.She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept since I dropped her off. Small dark circles that she hadn’t bothered to cover in makeup stood out as she sipped her beer. She wasn’t trying to make everyone laugh or touching forearms as she leaned in to speak to them. One hand was firmly planted in the denim shorts she was wearing and the other on a can of beer that I was sure was warm from how long she nursed it. It felt like something was wrong and I didn't have time to figure out what it was.

During the show I looked over, almost doing a double take when I saw her standing there, watching us perform. Her friends were all moving to the music but she was perfectly still just watching me. Not the band but me. She caught me staring and sent me a small wave in return, I missed the next note getting a scathing look from Axl as repayment.

How could she be so inside my head? I had no idea how to deal with it. All I could think about for the rest of the shoe was getting off stage and talking to her. Or kissing her. I could imagine her pressed against her, her arms wrapping around my neck as I lifted off her feet into a kiss. The feeling of her plus lips on mine, her tongue that I was sure tasted like something sweet, dancing against mine. I blinked myself out of the image, stealing a look over at her as if she could read my embarrassing thoughts. Just like a high school idiot I was fantasizing about a girl. I needed to get a better grip on things.

It took me almost twenty minutes to find her after the show. Between all the hustle and bustle of people moving around it was like a whirlwind and then suddenly there she was walking towards me, what looked like my denim jacket folded over her arm.

“Hey, I just brought this back for you. I have to head home now.” She tried to hand me the jacket but I was too caught up in the idea of her leaving so soon to grab it. Y/N must have seen the confusion on my face, “I have a meeting I need to prepare for tomorrow. I probably shouldn’t have even come out to this.” She motioned around to the show and once more held out the jacket for me to take,

“Why don’t I take you home?” The weary look on her face was there again; she didn’t trust me. It was fair. We hadn’t known each other for that long and if she knew the same people as I did it wasn’t really a slight on me to not trust me. It was common sense, “I just want to have a couple more minutes with you. I won’t force myself into your apartment or anything like that.” I could feel my heart breathing as I tried to play off this cool, collected guy. When she nodded in agreement I had to bite my lip to stop the idiotic smile from plastering across my face.

We talked in the car, small talk about little things and I asked her about her meeting. I got to glimpse her face express joy, stress, hope, and a million other emotions at the mention of it and realized this wasn’t just her work meeting but her passion meeting. Y/N wanted to design clothes and had gotten a meeting to work with a company to see her line. If she was taken on she could have a clothing line out as soon as the Spring.

I had been around musicians for so long that it seemed second nature to brag or talk about our work. There would be a million times where someone would just pick up an instrument and other people would join in on a jam session and suddenly a song was written. Or the amount of times composition notebooks were passed around to judge song lyrics someone else had written. No one was really shy about their music because everyone had this sense that they were the best at what they did.

Y/N seemed to have a track record of people not fully believing in her. She told me about her grandparents having sent her to college to get a husband more than they had sent her to get a degree and when she had graduated with her business degree and a good job they had been proud of her but there had been this sense of failure with it. If she told them it would just feel like it was about her step away from their traditional expectations of how she should live her life. Her friends were all so wrapped up in what they were doing, most of them hanging around the scene and trying to land a rich boyfriend to take care of them that she felt like if she shared her work with them they wouldn’t understand what she was trying to do. So she kept her designs to herself, sketching out ideas and tracing out pattern designs when she was alone. She would take vacation days from work just to sew or spend whole weekends pretending she had the stomach flu to give her an escape from everyone else and just focus on something that she wanted to do.

Seeing her talk about it and feeling the sincerity of her passion coming out in her words moved me and I had to see it. I wanted to see what made her so excited and what her dreams were. It felt important to me because it made her happy.

“Do you think I could see what you’re working on?” I asked when we pulled up outside of her place. She looked at me, shocked and stared for a second before giving a slight nod as she got out of the car leading me inside the place that she lived.

It was exactly how I would imagine it to be, pictures on the wall of family and friends, fresh flowers on the counter, a coffee cup with a lipstick smear on her coffee table, and just a mess of fabric everywhere.

“Sorry for the chaos. I’ve been in a panic mood.” she confessed, clearing off the couch and starting to tidy up as I walked around, looking at some of the sketches on the wall and letting my fingers run over the clothing she had on some forms. I could feel her eyes following me, watching me as I moved around.

“You did all of this by yourself?” She nodded, those brown eyes scared as she shared with me the intimacy of her craft. The raw unfinished hems of art in progress. “You’re amazing.” her eyes widened at this and for a second I thought she was going to cry. I took a step closer to her, “You should be really proud of yourself for getting all of this done. And your work is amazing. Will you tell me more about your meeting?”

And she did. We sat on the couch, time once more seeming to melt away around us. Both of us talked about our goals and dreams. The life we wanted and just some of the things that we had dreamed about. It was easy to talk about the life that we both wanted because our puzzle pieces we wanted in our life seemed to fit together.

The sun tickled me awake, teasing me out of sleep as I woke up on a couch. I looked at my side where Y/N was tucked in, fast asleep. There was a smirk as she dreamed about something amusing, drawn over her face. Some of her dark hair had escaped the pony tail and spilled over the gentle features of her face. Absent-mindedly, I tucked them back watching amused as her nose scrunched up from my fingers.

I couldn’t remember waking up next to someone that I hadn’t had sex with. I wasn’t sure what I was even supposed to do. Could I make myself a cup of coffee? Could I sneak out and make it to the band meeting I needed to be at in thirty seven minutes? Shit.

Trying to be gentle I slowly got up from the couch, rearranging Y/N so she would stay asleep. I grabbed my jacket, laying it over her as she resettled into the spot. I wanted to stay so badly but knew that I couldn’t miss the meeting.

Finding a pen I scribbled a note, hoping that she could read my chicken scratch writing and that she saw the message before her meeting. With one last glance I looked at her before leaving the apartment.

Y/N POV

Oh man, another night on the couch. My back was protesting against my decision before I even opened my eyes. It smells like cigarettes, sweat, and cologne. It smells like Izzy. My eyes snapped open as I remembered talking to him last night. Now I’m waking wrapped in the denim jacket I tried to give him back and he’s gone. When did he leave?

Looking at the time I started rushing around, packing things up in the garment bags, getting dressed and grabbing my bag. I stopped seeing a piece of paper with different handwriting on the counter, Izzy’s name signed at the bottom.

‘Sorry for sneaking out on you well you slept, you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you. Your work is amazing and they’ll be so lucky to add your designs to the team. Good luck, Y/N. I’ll be throwing a party tonight. Here’s my address. Please come. -Izzy’

The kind words had my cheeks blazing. He believed in mr. He thought I had talent and could see the creativity and love sewn into each garment. He respected my craft and my passions. He had listened to my lamenting the night before about everything and he wanted my dreams to be realities.

The realization that I liked the guitarist started to seep in. The preconceived notions of who the band was and how they slept around was starting to slip; for the past couple weeks Izzy only had eyes for me. And when we talked it was so easy to tell him everything. At the parties and backstage Izzy had stayed away from the girls who wanted to sleep with him. He had even left to take me home. He hadn’t tried anything.

I had made this assumption about him because his band was just like everyone else. After the meeting I’d get ready and talk to him, apologize, kiss him.

Walking into the party I tried not to fidget with the leather dress. My eyes wandered around the house, I knew most of the people here but I couldn’t find Izzy.

It was twenty minutes later when I finally spotted him on the balcony. He looked uncomfortable, three girls crowded around him as he nodded his head absently. Every couple minutes he’d look up, eyes scanning the crowd before looking down at his drink, tipping it back to down the amber liquid. But the girls were going in rotation to the bar to keep them coming.

A weird cramping filled my stomach and my hands tightened in fists. The jealousy overtook me as I tried to figure out a plan.

“You’re staring at Izzy like he usually stares at you.” Looking over my shoulder I saw Axl staring past you to where his bandmate was trapped being held hostage by the hyenas. “Are you going to save him or are you going to let them take him upstairs? Better figure it out kid.” The lead singer moved away leaving me alone. I stewed in my anger, showtime.

One foot in front of another, hips swinging dangerously side to side I watched the eyes follow me. Izzy finally saw me when I got to the balcony, stepping forward to break out from his captors. My hand went to the back of his head, pulling him down a few inches to my lips and planting my lips on his. Hands slid down the smooth sides of the dress around me to my ass and back up to my lower back. Pulling away, my heart beating a million miles a minute, I looked into his shocked eyes. At least it wasn’t just me that felt the fireworks.

“I’ve had a very good day and I’m not going to let anyone ruin that.” I explained to him, flashing him a smile. Izzy cupped my cheeks, his lips hitting mine again as his body pressed me into the balcony. I could feel every part of him, hard and solid against me.

“I’ve been waiting to kiss you for weeks.” His head rested against mine and for a second I forgot that we were at a party surrounded by friends. Izzy seemed to completely forget, his eyes on me, one hand firm against my hip well the other ran through my hair.

“Did it live up to expectations?” I teased, watching the way he was looking at me. His gaze was intense and I felt like I was going to shiver despite the warmth of the night.

“It just left me hungry to kiss every inch of your body.” His words came out husky, vibrating through me and making the dress that barely covered my skin seem too hot to wear anymore.

A flip had been switched on and I couldn’t turn it off. After fighting it for weeks the feeling of Izzy’s hands in my body was exactly what I wanted.

“Are you going to fuck me like one of your groupies?” I asked, “Are we going to go upstairs and in an hour I’ll leave and never hear from you again?” His eyebrows furrowed together, confused.

“Do you think that I’m only going to take an hour with you, honey? That’s cute.” He was taking my hand, weaving us through the crowd and to his bedroom. My cheeks were burning red as he pulled us inside, locking the door behind us. “If you don’t want this, now would be the time to tell me because if you don’t say something in the next ten seconds I’m going to toss you on that bed behind you and do things with your body that I’m sure you’ve never had done before.” His eyes were staring so deeply into me, I gulped trying to picture what he had in mind but not being able to have a coherent thought.

“Why are we still in clothes?”

That was exactly the answer he was looking for. He took one step towards me, looking over my dress before spinning me around, his lips on the back of my neck kissing and biting around to my ear as his fingers pulled the zipper down, his middle finger tracing my spine as it went.

His mouth moved down, kissing until the dress was off, biting my ass cheek as I stepped from the dress. Izzy was on his knees behind me and I felt disoriented that I couldn’t see him.

“Bend over for me. Put your elbows out so you’re comfortable, Y/N. Good job, honey.” Licking my lips I followed his instructions and my body position ass up off the bed.

Hands on my hips rolled my underwear down, pulling it off as well as sliding off my heels. I felt on display, like I was his toy to play with. The idea of it having me bite my lip.

“Look at your pretty pussy.” His finger traced the outside lips, a whimper rolling out of my mouth, “I’m going to take care of you, honey. Don’t worry about that. Let me just enjoy the sight of you and learn your body, okay?” I nodded wishing I could turn and look at him. He rubbed his hands over my ass, pushing my stomach down and arching me higher. His hands went down again, pushing my legs open.

The way that Izzy made a hissing sound followed by a low grunt had me wondering what he was doing.

“Izzy, I can’t see what you’re doing.” I whined out trying to turn. A soft smack on my ass had me freezing in place.

“Do you want me to describe everything to you?” His voice seemed deeper, husky and needy now. “I’m going to get undressed .” The sound of a fly going down, a belt buckle unclipping and the sound of clothes being tossed aside confirmed this. “Now, I’m going to get on my knees behind you and play with your pussy. It’s so juicy and wet I’m going to pump out some of the juices like this.”

Two fingers stretched me open, surging me forward. Izzy moved his fingers quickly for a second, curling them inside to rub against the swell inside of my body. He pulled them out after a second and I heard a slurping sound and a groan of appreciation. I could picture him tasting me off himself and moaning softly into the bed sheets.

“I’m going to get more of your wet pussy juice and use it to stroke my hard cock. Is that okay, honey?” I squeaked out a yes, feeling his two fingers teasing at my hole. My body pushed back, wanting to feel full of him again, “What was that?” He kissed my thigh, wet grin the juices he had just been working from inside of me.

“Please, Izzy. I want you to pump your cock with my wet pussy.” My heart was beating so loudly. I was so horny and just wanted him to work the orgasm from my body. I felt comfortable and trusted him with myself, feeling like he wouldn’t abuse the power in a way I didn’t like.

His fingers were once more inside of me, working at me again. My hands gripped the sheets, trying not to push back against him but I could feel the rocking in my hips.

“Do you need to cum? Am I not finger fucking you hard enough? Let me use my mouth. I’ll fuck you with my tongue and suck on that little swollen clit.” His fingers left my body and I whimpered. I could hear this wet grunting and knew he was fisting his cock as he played with me. “You have me so hard.”

“So fuck me.” I said panting. It felt like he kept getting me so close and stopping. I could feel the quivering in my legs and knew I was more than ready to cum.

“Patience. You made me be patient for you now you be a good girl and let me taste you. I want to lap up your sticky pussy juices before I bury my cock into you.” At the idea of his cock in me I could feel the tightening in my belly.

“Holy-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence. His warm tongue swiped over me, twirling around my home, dancing into my pussy and licking my walls before sliding out down to my slit where his perfect lips wrapped around it like a kiss before his tongue spun around it sucking and pulling it in his mouth.

I was rocking again, over-stimulated and wanting to orgasm more and more. My mind was blank, a coherent thought no longer feasible.

“You can cum for me. I’ll keep sucking and licking you and right at your peak I’m going to push my cock all the way in. You’re going to keep pushing back just like you’re doing now in it, Cumming against my cock and letting me drain myself inside you.” He whispered as he laid these over stimulating kisses over my glistening cunt. His tongue swiped down into me again, then a flat stroke over me and up to my clit. I felt his tongue slide around it sucking the small ball until I was shaking from the orgasm.

Izzy was quick to slide inside me, filling me with his cock, stretching it as he fucked me, dragging out my orgasm as my wetness slid down my thighs over his balls and on his own legs.

“That’s a good girl, cumming so hard against my cock.” His hands were on my hips as I pushed back wanting him to keep fucking me. My hands on the small of my waist helped to pull me back and keep me dripping over every inch of him.

The low groan he gave out let me know he was close and I squeezed, pushing myself back up on my elbows tk throw it back. His hand slid down to my ass smacking it knee again before hands were digging on my hip, his balls slapping my enforced clit as he shuddered inside me.

Izzy stayed like that for a second, both of us panting and gasping for air. He pulled out with a satisfied groan falling beside me on the bed and dragging me close to him in the bed.

His lips were on my head, soft kisses and hair strokes soothing me. Izzy dragged a bed sheet over us, his arms returning to wrap around me. I felt exhausted, safe, comfortable and something deeper for him. A new connection beyond just the carnal pleasure we just had.

“Do you want to stay here for the night? We can do brunch in the morning and you can tell me all about your meeting?” He had remembered the most important step in my career and was making time for me to tell him more about it.

I pulled him into another kiss, his lips tasted like me and I knew we weren’t going to leave this bed until that brucnh he was talking about.

#izzy stradlin #Imagine #request #Izzy straddlin request #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin imagine #Izzy stradlin headcanon #gnr imagine #gnr fanfiction #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #fanfic #izzy stradlin fanfic

190 notes · View notes