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softguarnere · 1 year

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Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 8: What If You Only Open Up?

Summary: “She’s just . . . not my type.”

A/N: Two weeks in a row of titles from Waitress lyrics? Yes, don't mind me, I just love that musical. Bit of a longer update today (because I am procrastinating, everyone act shocked).

Thank you so much to the lovely @liebgotts-lovergirl for letting me use your idea of the little cameos 🫶🏼 If you've also been reading Fire On Fire, you get to spot a little easter egg in this one 😉

Warnings: smoking, drinking, language, period typical attitudes, internalized homophobia

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

England, 1944

Shifty always says that going into town with bloused pants and shiny jump wings makes him feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. Looking at her reflection, Zenie can understand what he’s talking about.

When she first cut her hair she had been shocked that she hadn’t looked like anyone but herself – well, herself, but with short hair. Now though, she looks like a paratrooper. A dark-haired GI ready to swagger into town and cause some trouble just like everyone else. And looking like a paratrooper makes her feel like a paratrooper. For the first time in a very long time, she feels proud; she likes herself.

Right up until the second that she steps onto the street.

“Driver!”

Shit. She cringes before turning around to salute Captain Sobel. He’s swaggering with even more confidence than she had just been.

“I thought I revoked your weekend pass.”

“No, Sir.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Her mouth goes dry. She’s done nothing wrong, except the obvious thing that she’s always doing wrong. But nothing to have her pass revoked. After all, she knows how to keep her head down and blend in with the crowd.

“Captain Sobel, Sir!” A familiar voice calls out. Bill offers Sobel a sharp salute before glaring at her. “There a problem here?”

Sobel casts his own glare toward her. “Private Driver is attempting to leave without a weekend pass.”

“That so?” Bill looks her up and down, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek. She’s good at looking scared and demoralized after all her years of experience. Finally, Guarnere nods, tearing his eyes away from her and giving the captain a serious nod. “Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll take care of him.”

“What will you do?”

He considers it a moment, bobbing his head from side to side. “I think latrine duty will teach him a nice lesson.”

“Very good.” Sobel’s dark eyes dart between them, unsuspecting. “Very good,” he repeats, and then, he’s gone.

When he’s out of earshot, Zenie drops the act. “Saved my ass.”

“When am I not?” Bill claps her on the shoulder. His hand stays there, stopping her as he squints at her. “Did you really lose your pass?”

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes. “What would I have lost it over?”

“Good point. You ready to go then?”

“I don’t have to clean the latrines first?” It’s hard to keep her face neutral when she teases him. At least Bill also breaks into a smile; for once, she’s on the same page of the joke instead of being the butt of it.

Bill gives her shoulder a light shove. “Get outta here before I really make ya clean the latrines.”

The pub has already come to life by the time that they arrive. Music swings soldiers and women across the dance floors in bright swirls of color and flashes of smiles. Blotches of laughter ring out from different parts of the building as people say things they won’t remember by morning and try to feel alive while they can. After all, the tension that something is going to be happening soon is inescapable. Those of them who grew up with fathers that spoke in dark, hushed tones about the Great War are trying to live fast and free while they can.

“Hey look, chaps! Screaming Eagles!” A Brit jeers as Zenie and Bill weave between clumps of people in the crowd. “What’s the eagle screaming?”

“Help! Help!” His friends cry.

If any other Easy men were within earshot, fists would have been flying within seconds. The pub is so rowdy that hardly anyone hears them. Instead, Zenie focuses on the familiar laughter and voices coming from a group of tables across the room.

The man voted Easy Company’s most handsome – Don Malarkey himself – is standing atop a chair, singing his heart out while a small cluster of Toccoa men watch. He points to Zenie and Bill as they approach, a smile spreading across his face, making the lyrics of his song stumble to a close.

“Aye, Tommy Boy! Didn’tcha say you’re Irish?”

Zenie scratches the back of her neck. “Only half.”

Malarkey waves his hand in dismissal. “Still Irish. Ya know any of the good songs?”

“Please say no,” Skip Muck begs. From his seat, he reaches up and tugs on the leg of Malarkey’s trousers, trying to coax his friend off the table. “He hasn’t stopped singing since he got that first beer in him.”

A glass bangs against the table like a gavel as Luz downs the last of his drink, sets aside his glass, and stands in one seemingly fluid motion as he waves a few Easy men closer to the group. “Even if he does know them, he’s busy right now. Business to attend to.”

Zenie raises her eyebrows. “Business?”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Bill slaps her on the back, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “I forgot about the comin’ of age ceremony.”

Before Zenie can ask what that’s supposed to mean, applause, cheers, and whistles break out across the pub as excitement happens on the dance floor. Like the rest of the men, Zenie steps forward, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of whatever is happening. From the blur of colors, it looks like a Jitterbug competition has broken out.

Except it’s not a competition – not really. Most people vacate the dance floor in order to watch a pretty local girl and her partner jive to the music. Well, most of the men are just watching the girl. She’s so lively that her partner fades into the background a bit, even though he’s every bit as talented.

The first few times that they got to watch them, Zenie felt . . . strange. She was dressed like a man and standing among men as they all vied for a glimpse of the beautiful girl and her infectious energy. From within her disguise, Zenie had been able to watch just like the others, without worrying about looking too long or in a way that might not be proper.

Yet she hadn’t been able to focus on the dancing like she should. Her eyes wandered to her friends, watching them watch the dancer. And inevitably, they always came back to Shifty, making her heart feel like it was being squeezed in someone’s fist. If she was here as herself – as one of the lipsticked, glossy-haired girls with laughs like bells and smiles to die for – would they look at her that way? With desire in their eyes?

Most people are drawn to the edges of the dance floor like magnets, but a few E Company men stay, taking advantage of seats opening up as they plop down into a small group. Half of them are looking at her with serious expressions, and half of them are doing a rotten job hiding their grins. Luz motions for her to take a seat.

“Uh oh.” Zenie laughs, trying to keep her voice casual despite the dryness taking over her throat. She’s come home to find serious faces waiting for her so they can deliver a lecture too many times. These are people she knows, trusts, cares for, but that doesn’t stop the heat of panic from washing over her. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Nah.” McClung waves a hand. He slides her a beer. She takes it, thankful for something to calm her nerves. “More like we’re helping you out with something you haven’t done.”

Skip laughs, then clears his throat as he rearranges his face before he continues, “Tommy, it’s come to the collective attention of the company that you’re a little, uh . . . How should we put it?”

“Inexperienced,” Toye offers.

“A virgin,” Bill deadpans. If he notices the way that she nearly chokes on her drink, he doesn’t comment on it.

“You see Tommy, most of the men without girls back home have been getting a lot of practice in ever since we came to England,” Luz says, picking up the thread of wherever this spiel is heading. He nods towards Bill. “Or in the case of Hanky-Panky Louis here, practice even with a girl back home.”

The others laugh. Bill only shrugs. Zenie feels like she wants to disappear before whatever is about to happen can take place.

“Now you, Tommy, are a rare case,” Skip notes. “You’ve never mentioned any girl back home.”

“Never even seen him with a pin-up,” Skinny Sisk adds helpfully.

McClung shakes his head in dismay. “You don’t even carry around a Lucky Strike or Chesterfield box like some of us.”

“Yeah, they can’t all be as lucky as me,” Bill smirks as he elbows her. “They gotta carry around a box to look at girls, but I danced with a Chesterfield model a couple weeks ago.”

Toye snickers. “Yeah right.”

“Honest!”

“Bill, if you had danced with a Chesterfield model, you wouldn’t be sitting here with us right now.”

“Swear to God. Right in this very bar. Everybody saw.” Bill looks between a few of them, pointing an accusing finger. “You were there!”

Ah, yes. The Chesterfield model. She had been beautiful. And feisty.

But it’s funnier to watch Bill squirm.

“Did we?” Zenie glances at Luz, knowing that he’s thinking the same thing. “I don’t recall . . .”

“Tommy! You were there!”

“Aaaanyways,” Luz continues. “As your friends, we have decided that it is our job – nay, our duty – to help you out.” Luz removes something from his pocket and holds it close. “After much research, deliberation, and observation, we have selected what we believe to be the perfect pin-up to remind you what you’re fighting for.” He slides the paper across the table to where she’s sitting.

It stays there, Zenie staring down at it while everyone stares at her.

She doesn’t carry pin-ups like the others for several reasons – the most obvious one being that if her secret were found out and she was carrying around the tantalizing pictures, well . . . Whatever happened to her would probably be much worse.

Because she’s known for quite some time that men and women are attractive in their own ways, even if she’s felt that way about so few of them. (Lucy Jordan and Elijah Woodard back home, Shifty since joining up.) And she’s gone through cycles of repressing and coming to terms with whatever it all might mean about her.

Now here they are, pushing a pin-up at her like she’s one of the men.

“Go on. Look at it!” Skinny urges.

Slowly, Zenie takes the folded-up ad from the table. She smiles, for their sakes, while she opens it and –

Stares down into the all too familiar face of a beautiful woman with dark hair dressed in red, white, and blue. She’s telling people to go buy war bonds, but in this moment, Zenie feels less patriotic than ever.

I’m practically swimming in the stuff after the contract I signed with that last modeling gig. Have you seen it? Beckie had asked that day back in the diner before giving her a signed copy of the same ad.

“Wow,” Zenie fumbles. “I don’t know what to say . . .”

Luz lets out a yelp as Toye elbows him. “I told you he wouldn’t be into Rebecca Sadowski.”

“You don’t like it?” Skinny is already leaning across the table. “’Cause I’ll gladly take the future Mrs Sisk home with me – “

Skinny’s words almost make her cringe. She has to repress a shudder. If they knew Beckie like she did, would they hate her too?

“She’s just . . . not my type.” This earns an intrigued exclamation. At least it was the truth.

“Well then what is your type? So we know for next time?”

Lucy had been pretty. And sweet. A good listener, at a time when no one else seemed to pay second – or even first – thought to anything Zenie said. She was the complete opposite of Beckie.

“Blondes.”

“The man has good taste!” Skinny proclaims, causing the rest to laugh.

That seems to mark the end of it. Conversations are stuck up again as Skinny proudly shows off his new pin-up. Bill is trying to convince Toye that Yes, Joe, the Chesterfield model was real, and Malarkey starts trying to remember the words to an old Irish drinking song that only he seems to know.

The pub feels like the opposite of the ship that brought them from America. Whereas that had been a hot and anxious voyage, Zenie had felt okay because she was surrounded by people she thought of as friends. But the pub suddenly feels hot, she’s surrounded by people that make her feel exposed, and her oldest friend from childhood has reappeared in a way that makes her feel sick and angry all at once.

A hand on her shoulder brings her out of her head.

“Osigwosg tsadanta?” Shifty asks. Do you feel well?

“I just need some air.” She pushes her way out of the pub before anyone can ask where she’s going.

The cool night air that greets her is a stark contrast to the atmosphere she left behind. Inside it had felt like she was overheating. Out here in the dark, empty street, it should feel lonely. Instead, it feels like she can catch her breath.

She still doesn’t like smoking. The pack she keeps in her pocket is mostly for her friends, so she can be of use if they forget their own cigarettes. Now though, they’re for her; something to occupy her mind for a minute while she calms down.

“Eha.” She checks all her pockets again and again. Her lighter is gone. Probably back in the stable that she’s been quartering in, shoved into her bag. Her cigarette dangles uselessly from her lips as she leans against the wall of the building.

“Need a light?” From somewhere near the doorway of the pub, Shifty steps out of the forward, a ray of sunlight appearing in the darkness like the first streaks of dawn lighting the horizon over the mountains back home.

He’s done a cool trick a couple of times. He can take his lighter by the lid, flip it open, strike it, and light a cigarette all in one cool, fluid motion. Zenie has tried to copy it a few times, never with any success. He does it now, and when the flame appears, Zenie leans towards it, touching the end of her cigarette to the lighter and inhaling the smoke before nodding and thanking him.

Shifty lights his own cigarette. He leans back against the wall in a similar posture. They’re both staring off into the darkness, yet somehow, Zenie can’t shake the feeling that he keeps looking at her from the corner of his eye. She should know, because she’s doing the same thing to him; she’s always trying to catch a glimpse of the sun without being blinded by it.

After a few moments, Shifty lets the hand holding his cigarette drop to his side. He exhales a stream of smoke and turns his head slightly, half looking at her, half looking straight ahead. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

A beat of silence passes as he hesitates. Shifty is an expert marksman – he’s trying to find the most direct way to his target.

“Back inside,” he begins. Stopping, he takes a little breath, thinking before he starts again. “Back inside, when they gave you the pin-up of that model . . . Is the reason that you got so uncomfortable because . . . because you’re a girl?”

Zenie has never been shot, but she imagines that this is what it feels like. Her heart freezes, plummets into the pit of her stomach, and starts hammering away in double time all at once. Shifty is looking at her head on, his eyes intent and lips pressed thin as he waits for her to answer. No – waits to see how she’ll react. Waits to see if she’ll give herself away.

As usual, he’s hit his mark with perfection.

“What?” She tries hard to keep her voice incredulous, like this is the most ridiculous accusation she’s ever heard.

For a second, she thinks it works, because Shifty’s eyes get wide and he takes half a step back. But then he gets his bearings and looks around, making sure no one else is listening before he leans closer. In the mostly dark atmosphere of the street, she can just make out the little crease between his eyebrows.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to pretend.”

Somehow, that’s all it takes to disarm her. She’s always hated lying to him. And hasn’t she thought to herself at least a dozen times that things would be easier if only he knew the truth?

She sighs, flicking ashes from the end of her cigarette. In her imagination, having Shifty know made things easier. But she can’t look at him. She also can’t bring herself to look away. Instead she pinches the bridge of her nose. “How long have you known?”

“Long time. Since Toccoa.”

“Toccoa? How – ?”

“You remember how you, me, an’ Bill used to try to teach each other our languages?” When she nods, he mirrors the motion. “One time he asked you somethin’ about your brother. You said ‘Matthew agido’i’ instead of ‘Matthew tsusdalnvtsi.’”

Agido’i: my sibling of the opposite gender. If Zenie were really Tommy, if she were really a man, she would have used the word tsusdalnvtsi – the specific word boys use to talk about their brothers.

She’s been so used to the way she speaks and the word choices that she uses that a simple slip of the tongue gave her away. And if she messed up her secret that easily, there’s no telling what else she may have accidentally admitted to. She can’t help but face palm as Shifty continues.

“I thought it was a strange thing to say. I was gonna correct you, but I didn’t. I dunno, somethin’ told me not to. Then I started payin’ a little more attention, and I came to realize . . . Or I thought, anyway, that you’ve been disguisin’ yourself as a man to join the Airborne.”

Hands shaking, Zenie lifts her cigarette and tags a long drag. There’s no use lying to him. She should feel elated that she doesn’t have to lie to someone that she cares so much about.

“You’re right,” her voice is barely a whisper. It comes out higher, in her natural register instead of the slightly deeper tone she adopted when her charade began. Somehow, Shifty seems to hear her. Unlike when Gene confronted her, she can’t find the strength to act defiant and untouched. “What are you gonna do?”

Shifty blinks, his face falling. “What? No, I’m not turnin’ you in or anythin’! I just – “ He pauses to inhale deeply from his own cigarette. “I just thought it might be easier for you if you knew that you’ve got someone in your corner.”

Now there are two people in her corner. Two people who she trusts. At least she knows one of them trusts her.

“Aren’t you mad? That I – “ A vague gesture is really all she can do to describe what’s happened.

Shifty shakes his head. “No. Why would I be mad?”

“I lied,” Zenie answers. “Because I’m a liar.”

“You’re not a liar, you’re . . .” The crease appears between his eyebrows again as he scrunches them together, thinking. “I’m sure there’s a reason that you did what you’ve done. What you’ve been doin’. Pretty brave, considerin’ . . .” Everything that could go wrong, he doesn’t have to finish.

He’s the second person to learn her secret and the second person to call her brave. She tries to smile. It’s probably more of a grimace, but Shifty must get the idea, because he grins at her.

At her, what a thought. Not Tommy. He’s known this whole time, but this is the first time that she feels like he’s seeing Zenie when he looks at her.

“You can trust me,” he promises her.

“I do.” Part of her wants to grab his hand and hold on for dear life. She settles for tilting her head and leaning in a bit closer instead. “What do you want to know?”

Because if he asks, she’ll tell him everything.

#there is one line in here that made me scream into my pillow #gold star if you can spot which one #shifty powers x ofc #shifty powers #shifty powers x original female character #oc zenie mcglamery #my writing #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x oc #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #like a girl (like a man)

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larrydempsey · 1 year

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“Jackie II: The Prequel”

I hate the heat. All it does is put me in a bad mood. Everybody else loves it when it gets this hot, but not me. I must be the only person alive who hates hot weather. I think summer’s the worst. Everything’s louder and faster, and nobody can wait for anything. When it’s cooler out, like in the fall, everything’s quieter, and people are nicer. I like cooler weather – cool and cloudy, maybe a little windy. Sure, blue sky is okay. Blue’s my favorite color. But clouds are a lot more interesting to look at – all the different colors and shapes moving and blending into each other. It’s like a big painting that keeps changing all the time. I like rain, too. I don’t really like to be out in it, but it’s nice to be inside somewhere looking at it. The heat makes my skin all sticky. I don’t like being wet unless I have to. My arms are squishy. Y’know, another tattoo would look really cool right there. Just when I think I have enough for a while, it doesn’t take me long to start thinking about getting another one. People think I’m obsessed. I’m not obsessed. I just found something I really like. I like them not only because of the cool artwork, but also because I like how they show off all my different moods and interests. If anybody wants to know anything about me, all they have to do is look at me. Everything they need to know is right out there where they can see it. Besides, I’d rather show people what I like than have to talk about it. I hate talking about myself. That’s why I like having tattoos; they tell people who I am, so I don’t have to. I really need a cigarette. Didn’t I just have one before I got here? I can’t remember. Everything gets all mixed up in my head anymore. It’s getting hard to remember anything from one minute to the next. I can’t smoke at work anyway. Michelle won’t let me. Man, if I ever had the chance to…! I gotta quit these things. I guess I should get out there and start working. I really hate this sometimes. I wish people didn’t have to work. They’d probably get along better if they didn’t have to. I know I’d feel better. I’d probably be at home sleeping instead. Or at a party somewhere. Whichever sounded better at the time. Just as long as I wasn’t working. One thing I do like about working here is that it’s really colorful. I like a lot of color. I like all the posters, and the red door, and the yellow and blue walls. I gotta have that “Hellblazer” poster. I don’t care what Michelle says; it’s mine! Oh no. I can already tell it’s gonna be one of those days. Here come my four favorite ten-year-old terrors. Well, two of them are okay, I guess, but the other two make me wish I never have kids. Turning8on fake smile. Three. Two. One. “Hi.”

Commentary for “Jackie II: The Prequel”

–This was the fifth assignment for my “Writing for Children and Teenagers” correspondence course, which I took through the Institute of Children’s Literature.

–Where the fourth assignment was to vividly describe a person from a third-person perspective, the objective of this assignment was to let the same person speak for themselves in the first person, focusing on their thoughts and feelings.

–Based on a friend of mine who used to work at the comic book store at which I used to shop.

–The girl’s name is actually spelled “Jacque,” and I used that spelling when I turned in the assignment, but I changed it here in an attempt to make it easier for people to read without me having to explain how to pronounce it.

–My teacher said my story was “full of enthusiasm and energy.”

–Some of the teacher’s other comments: “I’m pleased to see how well you capture her spirit and voice. She tends to think in short, choppy sentences, and young people do talk that way. She also skips about and changes the subject; young people do that, too, of course. Love her reasoning on page 2. She gets tattoos so people will know who she is without her telling them. That makes sense. The ability to get inside a young person and make that person become a realistic character in your story is essential to good story writing, Larry. It seems you’ve accomplished that very well.”

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becauseimbexx · 1 year

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Who is Bexx?

Who is this girl?

.....where did she go.......

~ why did she come back~

Should she stay or go?🎶 🦋🍄🌻

I guess some might be wondering these kind of things.lol 🫠🙃😝 Where the fuck do I even start? lol it's like I know who I am, but when I'm put on the spot and asked about myself I clam up and don't know what to say. Kinda-sorta-like how I can think about the many materialistic things I could want, but the instant it becomes birthday/holiday season, and someone asks you for a wish list and instead my mind goes completely blank. Is anyone else like this?

Anywho... back to business besties!

Hello there, 👋🏻

My name is Bexx, I am a fierce force to be reckon with. A loving stay at home mommy & wifey. I am the 4th oldest in the lineup of my total of ten siblings. I was born October 31st, 1993. Yes I was born on Halloween, and Yes, I do indeed turn 30 this year. Go team scorpio ♏️. I grew up in the great PNW. specifically Vancouver WA, & Portland OR. I love the place I call home. 🌲☔️

Some fun facts about me are:

My favorite color(s) are, Orange, Purple, & Green

My favorite food is all food.

My all time most favorite Tv show is the OG Gossip Girl. I am 100% a Blair Waldorf.

I like to express myself through many forms of art. I love to cook, curate playlist, host parties & fun gatherings (I love planning every detail & being extra) Pinterest is one of my happy places.

I have a love for all aesthetics & enjoy playing dress up.

I am & will always be an adventuring kind of girly. I want to travel the globe & experience its magnificent beauty for myself. I've had quite the journey on social media & would like to meet the people that make up my world.

I've almost always got music playing & prefer music over movies. I listen to & have an appreciation for all eras & genres.

But when it does come to movies, it's either a cheesy rom-com or Horror.

I enjoy being goofy as fuck & making art out of my life on the internet for others to see. While simultaneously being vulnerable & talking about the not-so-beautiful parts of life.

I am not a religious person but, I am a very spiritual being. I don't publicly talk about politics for so many reason. The most important part being is just don't want my page to be about that. At least for right now.

I am 100% 420 friendly use weed on the daily for its many medicinal & recreational purposes.

I believe in celebrating life however one chooses to do so. Literally just do what makes you happy.

I have been married for 4.5 years & have a 5 year old son. Some of ya'll might see posts about them occasionally but aside from that, I will not be putting them on my page until they decide they want to. That goes for anyone in my personal life honestly.

Honestly I started this dream of a career in social media over a decade ago in my mother's basement where my siblings and I would plan out shenanigans to document and put on the internet. But we never actually did anything. Through my many attempts at starting something I was constantly trying to figure out where I fit in and what could I do that would make a worthy career. It took some time for me to realize that there are already many influencers like myself that already don't fit a particular niche. They're just genuinely being themselves & doing what makes them happy. I want to do that too.

Here & across other social media platforms I want to document life experiences, and share my life with y'all. & at the end of the day, I also aim to create a safe and fun environment for us all to share the things that make our world beautiful. Let's go forth & live our best lives together.

#BexxBesties for life.

XOXO- Bexx 🤍🖤

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here.

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield…

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over.

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes...

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up…

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory.

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!!

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night…

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully…

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

#you say athena mc is smart #i say athena mc is spy #because where better to use your smarts #in war #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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jenomark · 3 years

Text

➔Pairing: Ten x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: penetration, little bit of a breeding kink ➔Word count: 1,903

➔Summary: Ten never wanted a baby until he saw you hold one. Now, he not only wants to have a baby with you, but he wants to have fun making one, too.

~Anon Requested~

if you don’t mind - i have a request for ten. i feel like i don’t see a lot of things like this for ten and maybe i’m just not looking properly 😭 but maybe something like ten x y/n having been in a long term relationship and y/n wants a baby, she’s been asking for one for ages and ten just doesn’t want one until one day he sees y/n with her friend’s baby and he loses it. like he immediately goes “now. lets do it now.” i just see lots of dirty talking on ten’s part too 😭 like he has a sudden change of heart. i hope that’s not too much 🥺

Ten opened his front door and immediately tripped over a baby toy. He looked down at the colorful plastic, a confused expression on his face. A little chubby hand reached out to grab the toy, and Ten's eyes followed the toddler all the way across the room. He kept looking back at Ten, as if he were challenging him to a chase.

"Hello." Ten said, waving when he saw you and your best friend watching him from the couch. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise," your friend said. She got up and picked up her toddler, who was getting into a stack of expensive books on top of the coffee table, opening the covers and attempting to rip out the pages. Ten winced, his face unable to hide his disdain.

It's not that Ten didn't like children. It's not that he was scared of them either. He just didn't know how to act around them, so he steered clear of their sticky hands and faces. He didn't know fully if he wanted kids with you, even though he knew that you did. It was never his first thought, or his second.

The toddler started kicking his legs, hitting his mothers stomach with each little kick, wanting to get down from the prison of his mother's arms. A phone rang, muffled by the sound of a purse. Ten wondered if he should step in and help, but everything was moving so fast. Your friend handed the toddler to you and answered the call, going into the bathroom for privacy and shutting the door behind her. There was a moment where you and Ten stared at each other, you willing the motherly instincts to kick in, and him scared for you.

"What do I do?" you asked. "He's upset."

The toddler was heading towards a full-on meltdown. Ten froze, not really knowing what to say. You looked helpless holding the baby, your hands not really knowing what to do. Slowly, you began rocking him in your arms, something you had seen your friend do multiple times. There was something about the movement that calmed all three of you down. The toddler stopped whining and looked up at you with wide, teary eyes.

"Keep doing that." Ten said. "You're doing great, baby."

You were mesmerized by the kid. You kept touching his little fingers and his cheeks. Feeling a little braver, you rocked him harder and fixed him in a better position. You began to feel confident in the way you handled him, the gentleness with which you patted his back. You pouted your lips when he put his little head on your shoulder and rubbed his eyes.

"So cute." you whispered. "Look, he likes me."

Ten came closer to watch you soothe the toddler. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He let his hand caress the back of the toddler, the soft blue shirt wrinkling beneath his fingertips. He felt like he was in a trance, swaying back and forth where he stood. Suddenly, he was overcome with so many emotions he had never felt before.

"Do you want to hold him?" you asked.

Ten shook his head no, the fear coming back. "I like watching you hold him. You would make such a good mother."

Ten imagined what his kids with you would look like. Would they have your hair and skin tone? Would they be tall? He hoped they would have your patience and beauty, maybe some of his humor and intelligence. He could imagine it so clearly, that if he reached out, he could touch it right in front of him.

"I want to have a baby with you." he said, even surprising himself.

"What did you just say?" you asked, heaving the toddler closer to you as he fell asleep.

Ten kissed you, maneuvering around the sleeping toddler as best as he could. "I want a baby with you. Now. Right now."

When your friend left, Ten was all over you. The door barely soft-clicked before he backed you against it, pinning your arms above your head and kissing your neck. If he hadn't made it harder for you to touch him, you were sure you'd be just as needy.

"You smell so good." he said, hungrily nipping at your skin. "And you taste good, too."

His lips and hands were all over you. By the time he was done, you looked like you had been roughed up a little. You were breathless, your brain trying to catch up to the way your body felt. And it felt everything.

Ten wanted a baby. You were not expecting the days turn of events. You hadn't been bothering him about it for years or anything, but it was always in the back of your mind. You yearned to make babies with him, to have his beautiful babies peppering the earth. Now that he was agreeing, you had to make sure he wasn't just saying it on a whim to make you happy.

"Are you sure?" you asked, cupping his face. "That this is what you want? With me?"

"Baby, I've never been so sure of anything in my life." he said. Then, he got really close to your face so that his hot breath blew against your cheeks. "Let me fill you up."

"Oh." you said, feeling a burn in the pit of your stomach.

Ten picked you up and carried you to the couch. The way he looked at you made you come alive. You could feel the heat on your skin wherever his eyes traveled. You began taking off your own clothes impatiently, watching him closely when he removed his own shirt. You touched his arm, your fingers sweeping over his tattoo. He had never been sexier than in that moment, his body ready to be with yours in every way possible.

"You are beautiful." he said.

Naked on the couch, you opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist. There was something about the lack of protection that turned you on. You were excited by the anticipation of feeling him inside of you as he was, each slick inch driving you towards an orgasm that would blow your mind. Ten was always addicting, but without the restraint, you didn't know how you could control yourself.

On his knees, on the couch, he crawled over to you. Ten grabbed your waist and pulled your body upwards, letting his fingers linger on the soft flesh of your stomach. He leaned over you to kiss you on your lips before moving his mouth down to your breasts. You reached between his legs to stroke his cock, as his mouth closed around your hard nipple. Ten paused, closed his eyes and let his forehead drop against your chest.

"Keep doing that and there won't be any more of me left to give." he said.

You laughed over his embarrassment. Usually, Ten could hold out for a long time, but there was something about the thought of making a baby that made him sensitive to your touch. You touched his nipples, his chest, his throat. You wanted to feel and see the sweat glisten on your fingertips.

"God, I'm so turned on." you said, running your nails up and down his back.

Ten lifted his head off of you and looked down at you. There was a moment of silence where he understood how much he loved you, and that anything that was a part of you would always be loved by him. He touched your stomach briefly, imagining a baby resting inside. He slipped his cock inside of you without saying anything, fucking you slow enough to make you greedy.

"I want more." you said, reaching out. "More."

He kept going slow, reeling back on his legs, and entering you over and over. You lifted your legs into the air and he placed them on each of his shoulders, bending over to get into a better position. He looked into your eyes as he fucked you, picking up the pace as he watched you lick your lips. He kissed the side of your calf before driving himself in deeper.

"I want it." you said. "Give it to me."

"You want it harder?" he asked, beads of sweat starting to pool in his collarbone.

"Yes." you said, reaching your arms above your head to grab onto the end of the couch.

From underneath your body, the couch cushions were starting to get messed up, but neither of you cared. Ten fucked you harder, not noticing how with each thrust, the couch moved a few centimeters. You were in the throes of passion, with nothing able to bring you both out but each other.

Ten let out a laugh and said through gritted teeth, "I think this might be the fasted record I've ever...."

You touched your own breasts, knowing that the visual would send him over the edge.

"Come on, baby." you said. "I want it."

Ten came inside of you, his body freezing up before the release. He pulled himself out of you a little bit so that he could see his cum spilling out. He pushed himself back inside, watched the streaks of white collect on his shaft. When he felt he was finished, he collapsed on top of your body and stayed warm inside of you, praying that it was a good start to making a baby.

Some time in the middle of the night, Ten woke up to your soft kisses on his cheek. He blinked lazily in the darkness, his hands reaching out to touch your hair. It felt like a dream. You held his hands as you climbed on top of his body, your naked skin touching his. It was a beautiful dream.

Ten's mouth was quiet, but his whole body was loud. His cock was hard, just from feeling the pulsing flesh above him. His muscles were tense, his lips moist. He was fully awake now, and not too far from begging you for it. You lifted your body up, took hold of his length, and pushed him inside your wet warmth.

"Fu-cccck." Ten said.

You rode him like you hadn't just had him earlier in the day, like he hadn't filled you up with every last drop hours ago. You wanted more of him, so you let him deep inside of you by your own control, not letting him take your hips to rock you back and forth. You pressed your hands against his chest and let yourself go. Tilting your head upwards, your hair cascading down your back. You let out a moan, and a soft whisper of his name.

"Baby." was all Ten said before you put your finger to his mouth and stuffed one inside. He sucked on it, his tongue tickling your skin.

You kept at it, fucking him and riding him in the darkness. It wasn't long before you came first, your whole body shaking against his. You slowed a little bit until you got a good look at his face, his beauty outlined by the moonlight. Clenching your thighs, you rode him a little harder, ready to make him cum for the second time that day.

Ten moaned, his face scrunching up with pleasure. He whimpered before he came, releasing himself inside of you, the sweet taste of your fingers and your love still in his mouth.

#ten #ten smut #ten fanfiction #nct #nct smut #nct fanfiction #nct ten #nct ten smut #wayv #wayv smut #wayv fanfiction #ten nct

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captainsimagines · 2 years

Note

Loved the epilogue! Was gonna request a Drabble with their first I love you but you already covered it :) 🥰 sooo can I maybe request a drabble for warmth of winter maybe their first vacation together? Or first Christmas as a couple? Or both 😂

✨ Drabble ✨

DBF! Bucky Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Based on: The Warmth of Winter Series (First Vacation)

Word Count: 875

💞

“Sunscreen! Your thighs are fucking raw! Listen to me, Clint!”

It’s insane. He just won’t listen. He’s complaining every single fucking second but he won’t take the goddamn sunscreen. You tried throwing it to him in a last attempt, but he just side-stepped and flicked you off with both hands.

“You want me to smack his thighs later?”

Your eyes narrow at Bucky, who’s comfortably leaning on his beach chair with a book in his hand. It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover. He’s reading one of the most heartbreaking books you’ve ever read in the middle of a summer vacation, surrounded by drinks and friends and ocean. But you know him—he hasn’t turned the page since that first scene. The first of many. He’s acting tough.

He still doesn’t turn the page as he asks you that ridiculous question.

“Let me remind him one more time. If he refuses me, I’ll smack the shit out of him.”

“I don’t want you smacking other guys.”

Bucky scrunches his nose. “Touché.”

You roll your eyes again and turn to the scene before you. Clint has abandoned his sandcastle to pick up a rogue Wanda, floppily carrying her to the ocean. She’s screaming and Pietro is recording it all.

On the other side, Sam and your dad are enjoying their beers and talking about the stock market or something. They look boring so they must be talking about something boring.

“You want to go into the ocean?”

You shake your head and scoff, “Clint’s thighs are about to bleed. He’ll attract sharks, no doubt.”

Bucky bursts out laughing. He looks so beautiful lying there. He removed his arm before coming on the trip. He dons a colorful wrap around his shoulder.

He finally bookmarks the page he isn’t turning and places the book on the nearby table. The Puerto Vallarta sun really does this man justice. He gets freckles when he’s tan. His hair looks extra shiny, too. It’s short again, curls on top and delectably tuggable.

“How about the pool then?”

You glance behind you and find the hotel pool abandoned. It’s a nice day and the ocean is perfectly warm. Of course people are enjoying the real water more than the chlorine. But it’s too good to pass up.

“Stare at my ass as I walk away,” you wink, standing from your chair and taking your piña colada with you. Bucky follows orders perfectly.

Your first vacation together as a couple is a sex-filled, tanned and buzzed, absolute dream. You’ve got your own room, your family is here—what more could you possibly need? You’ve shot back about ten piña colada’s in the last two days. But the drinks are usually accompanied by a plate of tacos or tempura shrimp so they don’t really count as a lot.

Bucky is… Bucky is… The word perfect seems like a dull word to describe Bucky Barnes. The way he ignites the nerves beneath your skin, the way you almost tear up by how beautiful he looks in the mornings, the way his voice swims through your veins like your own blood. Other-worldly, then. Bucky is other-worldly.

Even that doesn’t do him justice.

Bucky follows close behind you. You walk up the few steps it takes to the hotel gates, showing your wristband to the security. They let you in with a tip of their heads. You abandon your drink on a random table.

“Think the water is just as warm as the oc—?”

You splash into the deep end in the most dramatic fashion. You don’t even have time to suck in a breath before you do. Swimming to the surface, you splash your arms up.

“Bucky!”

Bucky’s choking on his laugh, clutching his stomach through heavy gasps of air.

“I think,” you say, surprisingly calm. You lift a hand in the air and pinch your fingers together. “I’ve gone full Gone Girl. Perhaps murder is justifiable.”

“Please try to kill me, kid. I’d like to see you try.”

You squint at him. “The jungle is literally right outside the hotel doors. Don’t tempt me.”

Bucky grins, biting his bottom lip. “I love you.”

“Mm,” you mumble, dipping under the water to relieve your forehead from the sun. You really should reapply. “You getting in or what?”

“I like lookin’ at ya.”

Clichés seem to always follow you two. Time stands still, there was no one else on earth but you two, yada yada yada. Now you’re sharing “fuck me” eyes while you’re floating and kicking your legs in the water.

“Cannonball!”

Clint lands beside you before you have time to react. So do Pietro and Wanda. The splashes startle you so much they have you screaming.

A fourth splash erupts close by, then Bucky emerges spitting water.

“How are your thighs, Clint?” Bucky asks, still grinning at you.

“Oh, fucking chafed to the west side of Hell, thanks for asking!”

You and Bucky spend all night taking turns rubbing lotion and baby powder on Clint. Two more piña coladas arrive with room service. Neither you or Bucky can stop smiling because of how ridiculous your lives are. You hope it stays that way: wonderful and ridiculously real.

💞

#captainsimagines #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avengers x reader #by moni #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #the warmth of winter series #fluffy cute drabble #Drabble asks #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes drabble #drabble

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

pinky promise | p.parker, b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] little!peter x little!reader, stucky x reader, stucky x peter, ddlg, ddlb, polyamory, fingering, vaginal sex, sex in little space, age regression, millionaire!stucky, hints of breeding kink

A/N: she’s finally here :) i intended for this to have more stucky but it just didn’t work out lol

In which Peter and you play Mommy and Daddy.

taglist: @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mandiiblanche @nsfwsebbie@yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe

main masterlist

word count: 2.6k

“Pick out which one you want, baby,” Bucky whispered before walking past the little curtain, talking into his cellphone as he listened in on an important phone call. You went back and forth trying on the same skirt, one white and the other a light pink. You were starting to get a bit frustrated, knowing that you preferred when Steve just chose for you.

You huffed, deciding that you didn’t want to look at yourself in the dressing room mirror for any longer. You decided to put them back on their individual hangers and put your clothes on. That morning, Daddy had put you in one of your “big girl” dresses. It was still light blue with ruched sleeves but, paired with your white sneakers, you looked normal enough to walk around the mall.

When you left the dressing room, Bucky was waiting for you. His face instantly fell when he saw your expression, “What’s wrong?” He grabbed your arm softly and when you turned your face away from him, he grabbed your chin, “Which skirt did you pick?”

“I didn’t like them,” You spoke softly, your eyes slowly rising up to meet his.

“But you looked beautiful in them,” You gave him a shy look and his lips began to tug into a grin. He reached up to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t decide,” You told him, “I don’t need them anyways …”

“Nonsense. If you can’t choose, then my princess must have both. How else are you supposed to turn heads and make a good impression on the first day of classes?” Bucky easily dismissed the idea, “We’ll have a fashion show tonight and the boys can help you pick.”

You should’ve known that money would be no object to him. It was never to Steve but it seemed Bucky liked to spoil you especially. No wonder Peter was so spoiled.

“Thank you, Papa,” As he heard your voice, the raise in pitch and the pouting lips, he knew what you needed. He kissed your forehead softly.

“Awe, my baby doesn’t want to be a big girl anymore. Let’s get you home then, princess.”

It was true. Your date today was very nice and you loved the bond you were building with Bucky but you wanted desperately to wind down in little space. After a long day of college classes, your favorite thing was coming home to Steve but now you got to come home to three people who wanted to baby you.

From the moment, Bucky buckled your seatbelt for you, you were already beginning to slip. He held your hand the entire ride and as the two of you walked into the luxurious brownstone in Brooklyn that you called home.

You were quite ready to run into Steve’s arms but the first thing you saw was Steve’s arms wrapped around Peter. The younger boy was sitting in his lap, playing a video game, his eyes focused on the flat screen illuminating the living room.

When Steve saw you, he smiled of course, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Steve was Peter’s Daddy as well but, in your moment of wanting to regress, you couldn’t help but want Steve’s full attention.

“Hi, Papa!” Peter shouted, his eyes not leaving the Mario Kart game. He was dressed in his PJ’s, the footie ones that had all the little Darth Vader’s printed on them.

“How was your trip? Successful, I hope,” Steve asked.

Bucky seemed to notice your mood had a fell and that's when you felt his hand on your waist. He lifted you easily, setting you on his hip, all while holding your shopping bags. You were very grateful, resting your head on his shoulder, “Very successful but this one is in need of some tender love and care. I think we need a nice warm bath, don’t we?”

Bucky felt you nod and his lips pressed into a thin line. Steve flashed him a knowing look and Bucky gave him a look that said, “don’t worry, i got this”. The merging of your small family went much better than Steve had anticipated but you still had your moments.

Bucky carried you upstairs into the room you shared with Peter. The walls weren’t painted white but the two sides of the room contrasted each other. Peter’s side was full of pastel blues and greens while yours was rainbow central.

Bucky ran a bath for you and, much to your enjoyment, he joined you inside. You felt completely relaxed as he ran a wash cloth along your skin, soaping you up and massaging your skin gently. Your back against his front, Bucky could feel you slowly relaxing.

“You know, both Daddy and Papa love you very much,” Bucky spoke into your ear, his hand dropping between your legs, slowly spreading them.

“Mhm,” You agreed, shivers running through you despite the warm water.

“And Peter does too …” As his fingers spread your folds, his strong hands began to rub in a circular motion.

“I know, Papa,” His pace was still gentle, every circle he made teased your sensitive bulb, and you found your hips starting to grind against his fingers. Your eyes closed as you tried to focus on the sensation.

“That’s why I think that this weekend … you and Peter should spend some time together, while Daddy and Papa are away on business.”

Your eyes opened at that, surprise evident on your face, “Without Papa and Daddy? But we’re too little-” A small moan escaped your lips as he paid special attention to your special area. You slowly closed your eyes again.

“Your big brother will take care of you, whatever you need, princess,” Bucky spoke softly, his fingers working methodically against your clit.

All you could do was nod, agreeing with whatever Bucky had said. You were too focused on your incoming orgasm to disagree. When you finally did release, Bucky didn’t let you go, he kept going until you were trying to pull away from his body. He wrapped his other arm around your torso, pulling you back, as he made you ride out your orgasm.

“Good girl,” He groaned into your ear, “What do you say?”

“T-Thank you, Papa,” You panted and he began to kiss the skin on your shoulder.

You were still deep into little space when you awoke the next morning. After a tearful goodbye to Steve and Bucky, you decided that you’d play dress up in order to cheer yourself up. Peter explained to you that he was going to be a “big boy” and make the two of you food for your tea party. A tea party that he invited himself to after complaining that his own stuffed bear was invited before him.

You’d chosen a cowgirl hat to go with your flouncy pink dress and set the living room up to be your venue. The coffee table was fully decorated and pillows surrounded the table for all your guests to sit.

“Petey!” You called to the kitchen just as he entered with a plate. You told him he had to dress up if he was to join you but he refused to put on one of your dresses. Instead, you had to settle for him wearing a red cape and a crown.

He set it out in the middle of the table, proudly smiling as he exclaimed, “Ta-da!”

You took one look and pouted, “You burnt it,” There were about ten slices of burnt toast with butter, “And where are the finger sandwiches? Cinnamon scones?”

Peter gave you a confused look as he took a seat on the pillow beside you. He was already grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing his mouth, “The toast is pretty good,” Was the great response you received. You shook your head, deciding to just pour the tea for everyone.

“Here’s tea for you Buttons, Sassy Cat, Miss Sprinkles, Sir Horse …. and for you Mr. Parker,” You poured his tea carefully and you smiled, noting how impressed he seemed by the simple act. You set down the pot and grabbed your own cup, “And make sure you sip it like this, with your pinky out, because we’re sophisticated.”

“I thought you were a cowgirl,” Peter chuckled a bit as you watched him try to sip his tea carefully.

“A cowgirl princess,” You corrected him with the utmost seriousness, “I’m still sophisticated.”

“My apologies, your majesty,” He bowed his head slightly and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Your day had started with burnt toast but you had a feeling Peter was going to make it a fun day.

Hours later, the living room was now shifted into a small fortress made of blankets and chairs. Toy Story was playing on the TV while you and Peter paid attention to your separate coloring books. Your most relaxing pastime was having your paci, letting it soothe you, while you colored. You stayed inside the lines unlike Peter and he’d constantly tear out his pages before starting again.

The two of you had changed out of your costumes from early, having done a million activities since tea this morning. You were down your panties, a rainbow t-shirt, and fuzzy pink socks. You were flipping the page in your book when you felt Peter’s foot graze the bottom of yours. You didn’t think much of it, even starting to find the feeling soothing after a while.

When you turned your head towards him, you found him watching you, “I’m bored,” He spoke suddenly, “Let’s play a video game.”

You only shook your head, turning back to your drawing, and you heard him let out a frustrated huff of air. The stroking of your foot soon turned into a tapping. Despite your attempt to ignore him, he began to inch closer to you. When you turned your head again, his face was only inches from yours and you were looking into his brown eyes, “We can play pretend some more,” That made you perk up and, despite being in the middle of drawing a castle, you set down your crayon.

You gave him a curious look which caused him to smile, “We could play Mommy and Daddy,” As your eyebrows raised in confusion, he continued, “Well I’d be the Daddy and you’d be the Mommy of course. Don’t you know how to play?”

You slowly shook your head and Peter leaned in. You were frozen for a moment as he kissed your pacifier. You felt your cheeks heat us as he gently removed it from your mouth then pressed his soft lips against yours. You’d never shared a kiss with him while the two of you were alone and, for a moment, it felt forbidden, “We have to ask permission…”

Peter could see your enjoyment as clear as day, “But we’re just pretending. Mommies and Daddies kiss all the time,” You nodded, understanding though you still felt a bit nervous.

“I like your kisses, Petey,” You said and you watched his face turn red. He leaned in again and you were grateful for his touch, how he moved your lips against yours, and how his tongue began to explore your mouth. You turned on your side and you felt his hands roam over your backside.

He dipped his fingers into your panties, causing you to cry out, “Shush, we have to be quiet. We can’t wake up the baby,” He whispered to you and you instantly nodded, enjoying the sensation, “You’re soaked, Y/N.”

You could feel his member growing hard against your thigh, still confined to his underwear. You reached out to touch it and you watched him shudder at your touch, “Geez…” He groaned, “Do you want to make another baby?” Something seemed to shift in his eyes and suddenly he was more eager than before.

“Yes,” You nodded, playing along to whatever scenario he was making up along the way, “I love being a Mommy.”

Peter couldn’t wait much longer and you let him climb on top of you as you quickly pulled down your panties. He didn’t waste time with his own underwear, pulling out his hard cock, and pressing against your warm heat. You felt his tip rub against your clit and then up and down your folds.

You held onto the sides of his torso, gripping his striped shirt tightly as he began to sink inside of you, “Y-You’re so tight, honey,” he began to rock back and forth, looking into your eyes as he hovered over you. He gripped the pillows beneath you tightly, the motion in his hips causing your body to convulse beneath him.

“Peter, peter, peter,” You breathed, biting down on your lip. His head dipped down, kissing your lips again and, distracted, you didn’t notice that his hand moved between your thighs. He fucked you while his hand stroked your sensitive bulb, knowing that would send you over your edge. As you tightened around him, you brought him to his climax.

As he collapsed against you, catching his breath, you welcomed his embrace.

“You can’t tell Papa or Daddy,” He told you, hugging you tight.

You only held out your pinky and he wrapped his around yours.

You wouldn’t tell but you imagined the grand punishment that would ultimately lead to you cumming until you passed out.

“Petey … petey,” You tapped the sleeping boy’s nose until you finally startled him awake. He was quite cute when he slept, holding tight to his teddy bear while he was tucked into his baby blue sheets. Peter pouted as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing you hovering over his face, book in hand, “I can’t sleep.”

He attempted to close his eyes again, “Count your sheep, Y/N,” He mumbled as he turned his head away from you.

You bounced on top of him, your legs straddling him, and he awoke again, “I counted all the sheep! Like five trillion-million of them,” As your voice raised, he pressed his pointer finger to his lips. He sat up on his elbows, giving you a frustrated look.

“Shush, you don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?” You instantly shook your head, obeying his warning to calm down. Peter eyes the book in your hand, “Why can’t you read it to yourself?”

“I like the way you read,” You spoke earnestly, “And you can say all the big words.”

You knew that would work, stroking his ego. Peter loved it when everyone treated him like a big boy. He thought for only a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips and suddenly his tiredness was gone.

“C’mon, get under,” He motioned for you to move and, excitedly, you climbed under the covers with him. The twin-sized bed fit you two comfortably and you liked cuddling more than anything. As Peter pulled the covers over you, he whipped out the flashlight he kept underneath his pillow.

You rested your head against his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso, as you listened to him, “Don’ you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you’ll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, ’smatter of fact.”

The accents he used always made you giggle. Peter was quite the story teller but that didn’t keep you from drifting off a few minutes later. Peter kept reading, entranced by the novel, but stopped when he heard your soft snores. He turned off the light and let the book fall against his stomach.

“G’night, Y/N.”

#peter parker x reader #little!peter #little!reader #stucky x reader #stucky x peter #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #daddy!stucky #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #sebastian stan #tom holland #little space

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awesomerextyphoon · 3 years

Note

I love your writing. May I have Loki x Reader? The reader is a sweet, delicate dreamer. Loki has come to conquer the world. He saw her and wants her to become his Queen of Midgard. He kidnapped her. She pleads with him to let her go while she is tied to the bed. He caresses her hair and says she will love him (he doesn't want to use the scepter on her).

***Can I have White Reader x Loki, please? Loki just escaped from the Helicarrier. He saw the reader who is a sweet and innocent creature. Loki doesn't want her dead when he will start battle. Loki kidnaps her and locks her up to keep her safe. When he wins, Loki tells her that she will become his queen.***

Hi! I decided to combine the prompts and make the reader plus-sized. I hope you enjoy!

His Match

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Plus-Sized Female Reader

Summary: You’ve tried to live by your grandmother’s rule of being kind to others, even when the world gives you the middle finger. What if a Norse God decided reward you by becoming his Queen?

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: 18+/Mature

Warning: Kidnapping, Implied Dub/Non-Con, Angst, and some Violence

A/N: Thanks goes to the amazing @angrythingstarlight for beta reading this!

Loki was walking around New York City, scouting Stark Tower making sure the final preparations of his plan was perfect when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

She walked out of what looked like a women’s clothing store with a forlorn smile. She was plumper than the average female Midgardian last time he frequented the realm. His eyes did not miss the enticing curves that lied beneath her clothes despite her efforts to ensconce herself into the background.

She was a vision.

Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments and it felt like time stopped. His heart quickened in his chest and a rush of blood surged to his groin.

He had to follow her. His Elskan.

“Barton, tell the others I’ll be out for a few more hours. Proceed as planned.”

–––––

He found you entering a rather destitute apartment complex. Its lights and foundation were a bit unsound and gave off a seedy ambience.

Loki grimaced at her living conditions. When he ruled Midgard, she would have only the best.

Casting a simple concealment spell, Loki entered her fairly small apartment. She began mixing ingredients together for what looked to be ‘chocolate chip cookies’. He smiled as he inhaled the sweet aroma knowingly; Asgard had only recently started consuming the sweet. She soon laid out a batch of thick, scrumptious cookies with a satisfied expression.

They reminded him of better times when he and Thor would sneak into the kitchens and swipe confections from under the baker’s nose. Loki chuckled at the memory; those were the days.

Not ten minutes after she placed the last cookie onto the cooling rack did her phone ring. It was her mother. Loki felt dread coming off his Elskan in waves.

Loki could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation, if you could call it that. Her mother constantly nagged her about her weight, life choices, and her ‘pathetic’ attempts to get over her ex-boyfriend. His heart broke as he saw tears begin to fall and the croaking of her voice as she bid the odious creature goodnight.

Several minutes after she cried herself to sleep, Loki entered his Elskan’s bedroom. He spied her diary on the nightstand and decided to read a few pages.

He was fuming within two minutes.

How dare that caustic pig sow treat his Elskan, her own daughter, in a such ghastly manner! Her ‘perfect’ sister always slighting and reminding her on how ‘she’ll never be good enough for anything’ and her father’s callous indifference to her cries for help and solace only added to his rage. Combined with the way her ex-boyfriend, the repugnant gnat, treated her (he cheated on her with someone who ‘wasn’t built like a blimp’ and ‘the only thing you thing you had going for you were your tits’) and he wanted to speed up the invasion just to watch the horror become engrained onto their faces.

And yet, she endeavored to treat everyone with kindness harkening back to your grandmother. She strived to be the one light in one’s otherwise miserable existence.

Well, she can be his light as his Elskan and Queen.

Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. He needed to stick to the plan. When he conquers Midgard, she will be their queen. She will grace the undeserving masses with her elegance and beauty and he will worship her every chance he got.

He just had to make her see it that way.

Gently, the light forest green glow of Loki's magic flowed from his hand to the crown of her head like a halo. He leaned in and kissed her cheek with a smile as he left.

He hated to leave her, but he had a realm to conquer. Though he hoped she’d enjoy the introductory gift.

––––––

You were in your grandmother’s living room; spacious yet comfy with all of her quirkiness and splendor included. It was odd since you haven’t been in her house since your parents sold after her death seven years ago. You tearfully smiled remembering all the good times you had with her, the only member of your family you gave you any true warmth or love.

Her piano was in the corner, barely aged a day with all the music sheets, pens, a light scratches you came to know and love. You took your seat and started to play the piano version of one of your favorite movie themes.

You were so engrossed in playing, you failed to notice someone materializing into your dreamscape.

“What a lovely tune! What is it called?” A smooth, honey-tinged voice broke your concentration.

You turned your head and saw what had to be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was tall (6’ 10” / 2.08m) easily towering over any man you’ve ever met. He had smooth alabaster skin, light rose undertones with a little blue-red just under his eyes. His cheekbones were immaculate, somehow looked sharp and soft at the same time. He had thin lips with a fair plumpness to the bottom one. His slicked-back, shoulder-length Ponzu/Shadow Purple hair kissed his lean, battle-hardened physique (if the way he’s filling out his outfit was anyway to go by). All of this deliciousness was clothed in a casual Palm Green suit with a Glossy Black tie and shoes.

It took you a full minute to stop ogling him, “Wha-What did you say?”

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lady. I asked what you were playing.” His voice had hints of mirth which was odd considering his appearance. Most people in his league would give you a thinly veiled sneer of disgust, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“Um, well, it’s called Merry-Go-Round of Life from the movie Howl’s Moving Castle. It’s a favorite of mine. I used to play it all the time until…” You trailed off, not wanting to revisit how your grandmother died.

“You do not have to tell me if it brings you such displeasure.”

“Thank you, um…”

“Loki. Please, call me Loki.”

“Loki,” he inwardly moaned at the way you said his name, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Please, continue playing.”

And you did for what felt like hours, all while your sexy dream companion asked about your hopes, dreams, anything he could think of really. You in turn asked him about his life and interests; you even laughed at a story of his brother having to dress like a bride to get his hammer back.

You soon became enamored with Loki. It was refreshing to be noticed with actual interest, not ridicule or pity. He seemed to taken with you as well, if his gentle caresses and not-so-subtle lustful glances he gave you were any indication.

You were glad this was just a dream. You didn’t want your heart to break like last time.

Loki was about to lean in for a kiss when everything faded to black.

–––––

You jolted up from the mattress and screamed once you realized you weren’t in your room.

No, this room was…spectacular for lack of better word. It had high ceilings, large windows, ornate chandeliers, and magnificent balcony. Luxurious dark greens, gold, and black covered the room in splendor. Extravagant pieces of furniture dripped with precious stones metal worthy of queens or royal mistresses of old.

“What is this place?”

You tried to leave but was forced back onto the bed by a force field. You tried to take calm breaths just like your therapist taught you in order to make an escape plan.

No sooner did you calm down than the door open to reveal-

“Loki!”

Only Loki was wearing radically different clothing; looked like he walked right out of a fantasy epic. And yet, his smile was enchanting.

“What am I doing here? I need to go back home.”

He tutted in response, “That would not be wise, Elskan Mín. This world is mine now and this is safest place to be.” He was right. His brother’s team of desperate souls were no match for his cunning and Chitauri Forces. Midgard’s pathetic leaders gave up in less than an hour once their beloved ‘heroes’ were defeated, broken, and laid bare before them.

“You can’t be serious, Loki. I need to leave.”

“And go where? Like I said, this realm is mine now. That rat poison of a dwelling is no more and I have dealt with your ‘family’ as needed.” Loki smirked at the memories. It gave him extreme joy squeezing the life out of that worthless pig of mother, breaking every bone in your father’s body one by one, and leaving your ‘perfect’ sister alive with partially rotten skin. Not even the scavengers or maggots would find or want the remains of the scurvy insect of an ex-boyfriend, though he was still alive..just barely.

Well, at least until he decided on how to destroy the blight of creature.

Though he did make sure to leave two of your real friend were treated well. You needed to have someone to talk to while he was away.

You gazed into his Spearmint colored eyes in one last attempt, “Please Loki! If you love me, you’ll let me go!”

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw hurt in his eyes and he glided across the room. You back hit the headboard in you sad efforts to get away from him.

“Elskan Mín, I promise to always love, cherish, and worship every part of your glorious body. You will become Midgard’s queen and my goddess. No. One. Will. Ever. Demean. Or. Slight. You. Again.” he punctuated each word of the last sentence with soft, open-mouthed kisses to your face, neck, shoulders, and collarbone.

You tried to fight him, but it felt so good. His touches sent shots of lightning to your core; plus his lips and fingers were cook to the touch provided excellent contrast to the spike in heat.

You started crying realizing how pathetic this was, to have the first person to profess such feelings be a kidnapper. You were actually contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth.

Loki sensed your sorrow and kissed your tears away. “I know this might be ‘difficult’ at first, but you will love me in time.” He hoped he did not have to use the scepter.

You thought about your dream and all of the effort he was putting into this. It was frightening, but it came from a place of love.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay.

–––––––

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#loki (marvel)#loki x reader #marvel loki x reader #dark loki #loki x female reader #loki x plus-sized reader #mcu imagine #dark!loki #dark!loki x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu au #loki imagines #loki imagines angst #mcu fanfiction #his match #oge answers #tom hiddleston

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Note

hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailer🦋

oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.

summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.

word count: 4.2k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.

masterlist

my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, I’ve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.

usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe it’s something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesn’t feel like cooperating. it doesn’t help that I have about an hour before I’m scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.

I haven’t seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasn’t been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, it’s like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?

to be completely honest, I don’t really want to do any of that. I’m sure they’re all very nice people and we’d have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that I’m really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.

there’s no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.

when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. it’d be overwhelming for anyone who isn’t used to it.

“Y/N!” Matthew’s voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. he’s leaning out of the side of a golf cart that he’s driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.

he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.

“you look great! how are you?” as usual, he’s talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. he’s always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, he’s got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and there’s some stubble growing on his face that’s new. he looks older, more mature.

kind of sexy.

“I’m really well. cool ride you’ve got.” I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.

“you wanna know a secret?” he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. “I’m not supposed to drive that.”

“how’d you get it?” I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but I’m sure there’s a funny story behind it as well. he’s full of weird anecdotes.

“one of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.” he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process what’s happening, he’s swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he practically yells over the sound of the motor. “but I know you’ve been busy.”

“yeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.”

“you’re downtown, then?” he glances over with a smile and then we’re slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

“for right now, yeah.” I can’t help the smile. it’s been a while since I’ve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthew’s independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.

“so, what I’m hearing is that you’re now legally bound to hang out with me.” he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. “I have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.”

“oh, I could have come later. I’m sorry.” I turn to apologize, but he’s quick to wave it off.

“it’s fine. as long as you don’t mind spending an hour in here, it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that he’s collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.

“wow.” I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that it’s a bit cluttered.

“sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to clean up.”

“no, no, I meant ‘wow’ in a good way.” I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.

“tell me about this job, then.” he immediately starts. I shrug.

“it’s nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.”

“that’s amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?”

I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I don’t think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.

“I wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.” I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.

“that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.”

“I don’t think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.”

“sour sports.” he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.

“how about you? any new masterpieces?”

we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they aren’t from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and I’m still me.

he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and it’s admirable.

once he’s gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.

my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I don’t know if I’m still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.

there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where we’d be about to say goodnight or moments where he’d fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where I’d look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and he’s arguably one of my best friends. distance hasn’t changed that. there are things I would tell him that I haven’t told my other friends.

and when he’d brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.

and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, that’s all I want.

there’s a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it won’t take me long; I can feel how wet I’m getting and I haven’t even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.

as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine they’re his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, it’ll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.

I imagine Matthew coming in here after he’s done and kissing me like he’s wasted enough time waiting; like he can’t wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.

“Matthew...” I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what I’m doing is wrong. I shouldn’t be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when he’s coming back soon.

but it’s hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.

“o-oh my god,” I hum. “Matthew--”

the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he can’t seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that I’ve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.

“oh my god.” I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this can’t be real. “y-you weren’t supposed to be back for an hour.” I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.

“we, uh, wrapped early.” he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. “I promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--”

“no, it’s fine.” I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. “sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wonder what you’d have done with an actual hour.” he says it like he’s attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldn’t have said that. “sorry, bad joke. I’m just-- surprised.”

“Matthew, I’m so sorry--” I start. there’s literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.

“were you saying my name?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.

“well, the thing is--” I take a deep breath. “I don’t normally, um... do that in people’s trailers?” my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that I’m fully clothed, he doesn’t seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.

he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.

“I don’t wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that there’s a reason why I was doing it in here and I’m not some freak who, like, contaminates people’s space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now I’m justifying it, which is even worse--”

“hey, Y/N, relax.” Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, he’s got a small smile on his face. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“okay.” I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.

“you were moaning my name, though, right?” he smirks. my eyes widen.

“don’t get too cocky,” I try to play it off. “I haven’t been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.”

“looks like it did.” he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?

“whatever.” I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.

“are you still... frustrated?” he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.

“why?”

“I can help you out. only if you want to, of course.” he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure I’m not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.

“like...” I think about his hands, about what he’s offering. it’s heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesn’t have to be; we’re adults. our friendship wouldn’t be shattered by one encounter.

“like I’ll eat you out right now and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” we’ve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that we’ve already passed the point of no return. there’s no use in holding back anymore.

“mhmm.” I nod. if I say anything more, I’ll reveal more than he wants to know. that I’ve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.

“come here, then.” he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. he’s greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like he’s trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that he’s seen so many times but has never touched.

we’re hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when it’s in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.

“sit on my face.” he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.

“take off your clothes first.” I tell him.

“you wanna see me naked?” he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.

“yeah, I wanna see you naked.” I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then we’re both there, looking at each other.

“c’mere, beautiful.” he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. “perfect.”

I’m about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.

I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness that’s gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks he’s leaving in my thighs tell me he’s loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.

he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I can’t believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.

“Matthew, please--” I gasp. “don’t stop.”

he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. I’m needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he can’t get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.

“oh my god—“ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. “it’s so fucking good.”

he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until I’m swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthew’s grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.

“such a wet little pussy.” he tells me, licking his lips. I’m pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so I’m laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.

I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection he’s pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.

“you’re good.” I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.

“I just think about it a lot.” the response is simple, but it’s the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.

“shit.” he moans, jaw dropping once he’s reaching the hilt. “give it to me, baby.” I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.

I don’t speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isn’t until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.

“harder.” I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.

“is this what you were thinking about?” he breathes out. “me fucking you like a slut?”

I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.

“tell me who you belong to, little slut.” his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.

“you.” I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.

“louder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.” he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like he’s absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.

“y-you-- fuck!”

“c’mon, baby.” he pants. we’re definitely rocking this trailer with the way he’s ramming my body right now. I can feel him like he’s in my ribs.

“Matthew, oh god--”

“show me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.” the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. I’m trying to breathe but it’s so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesn’t go easy on me.

“I’m cumming.” my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like it’s trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.

“can I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?” he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. we’re filthy together and it’s otherworldly. “good girl.”

he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. I’m writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, he’s lovely when he’s orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.

when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.

“that help?” he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. “I’m joking. are you okay?”

“more than okay.” I smile. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“thanks.” as if this man hasn’t already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.

“do you want some water?” he’s worried about giving me space. there’s a question lingering between us that I’m afraid to ask, especially now that he hasn’t. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.

“uh, sure.” if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. I’ll need to clean up soon.

“so...” his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.

“so.”

“dinner? and then breakfast?” he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasn’t mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.

“you think you’re getting this again?” I try to act nonchalant, as if I’m not already imagining it.

“oh, wait--” he frowns, hesitates. “that’s not what I meant.”

“what did you mean?” there’s a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess we’re about to answer that question after all.

“I wanna finally take you on a date.” he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I don’t even hesitate to answer.

“I’m in.”

#mgg smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #rpf #criminal minds #mgg oneshot

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bratkook · 3 years

Text

eleven months. (m) myg. two.

masterlist.

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: fluff, slow burn!!!, eventual smut, warnings: brief non-descriptive mention of death, otherwise none word count: 7k author’s note: here’s some more backstory on both of them as well as more interaction beyond yoongi hunting down an album by the cure lmao. like i said before, i’m really soft for yoongi in this story so lmk what you think! (also..because i hate myself and love piling up wips, theres mention of oc having a previous love interest that’s actually part of another story that takes place in this universe that’s a prequel soooo...coming soon lol) taglist (open): @min-yus summary: it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what’s coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

In the next coming weeks it becomes obvious that Yoongi is in fact a regular. His routine visits allow you to remember the usual days and times he’d pop in, so you knew if you’d be working on his chosen days.

Somewhere in between his casual drop ins, the two of you had formed somewhat of a friendship— or the beginning stages of one at least. Yoongi liked your sense of humor, how open and friendly you were to anyone you encountered, always having something to say about anything. Conversation came easy to you, never running out of stories. It left Yoongi thinking you’ve definitely lived about ten lifetimes compared to him.

In turn, you liked how he let you steer the conversation any way you chose. Most people would probably watch on in horror at the way you’d go from talking about a specific song or band, and then switching to a story about how you chased a pickpocketer during your travels before moving on to talking about your roommate’s cat. None of it gave him whiplash though, seamlessly flowing into the next topic with a grin on his face, never feeling like he had to think too hard to keep it going. It worked best this way. Yoongi was observant by nature, a great listener above it all, so if you were the one doing most of the talking it was fine by him.

Everyone at Rkive360 had taken notice that Yoongi’s usual five minute visits had turned into ten, and then twenty, until it became very clear he was lingering inside the store. No one told him anything, besides the fact that he was bestfriends with the owner and had immunity, all of you were fond of him. Taehyung enjoyed the sly remarks Yoongi would make, Sana just enjoyed ogling at him, Namjoon would never mind seeing him, and you would take any chance you could to attempt to wow him with your small knowledge of music.

It was a nice distraction whenever he stopped by, always heading straight to the back where the vinyl was kept. Sometimes he had a specific album in mind, other times he was simply browsing, but he only ever bought one at a time. It was routine, maybe even a weird ritual of sorts if he really thought about it.

On the days you knew he’d be coming you would spend a little extra time in the beginning of your shift picking out a few records to suggest to him if he didn’t have one in mind. Because of this, he had stopped his usual path to the bins and now came directly to you, the first stray off his usual routine.

Today you’re standing behind the counter, ringing up a customer when he walks in, a smile on your face as you chat away. He patiently waits at the far corner, leaning back against it as his eyes roamed the interior of the store, taking note of the way Sana and Taehyung were trying and failing to build a giant display. It looks like a mess of parts, scattered around with no instruction manual in sight— definitely Taehyung’s idea to toss it judging by Sana’s look of frustration.

He tears his gaze away from them beginning to argue when he hears you wish the customer a good day as they leave, pushing away from the counter and shuffling your way with a grin on his face. You smile back at the way his doughy cheeks push out, high points of them reflecting the light from above.

“Any shirt facts of the day?”

That had also become another common occurrence. Whenever you decided to wear a band shirt, he somehow always had random facts about whoever it was. It didn’t matter if it was some obscure french band or a 90’s rapper, Yoongi knew something about everyone, like some walking encyclopedia of musical artists. So when you take a step away and spread your arms out, he sees your shirt of choice today is The Doors, and he scoffs. Too easy.

“The Doors were the first band to ever advertise a new album on a billboard.” He nods his head slowly, almost as if he’s telling you yes I know, amazing right?

A hum leaves your lips at his fun fact, slightly impressed by it. “Interesting. Like always, I did not know that.” You peek under the counter top at the selection of records you kept stowed away for him, safe from any undeserving customers. “Now, do you want to see my daily, hand picked selection just for you.”

This was his new favorite pastime, getting to see the random albums you’d group together for him, wanting to know what you thought was worthy for him to listen to. When he nods, rubbing his hands together in excitement, you haul up the stack and carefully spread them out across the top.

The genre of the day was R&B, he can tell that much as he sorts through the albums. You’re familiar with the way he clumps together certain records, marking them down as albums he already owns, until he gets to an orange colored cover. The words The Internet fill the top right corner along with Ego Death on the bottom left. This he had never heard before. He picks it up and flips it over, scanning the song names with interest.

His eyes raise up to yours with curiosity, the same sharp gaze that somehow still makes you nervous holds the obvious question being passed between you with no need for words: are they any good? And the way you nod your head immediately convinces him enough. “Alright, I’ll give them a shot.”

A small sense of pride fills your chest, a tiny victory whenever he decides to pick something from your stack, trusting whatever music knowledge you had somehow convinced him you have. “I promise you’ll love them.”

When you hand him his change and the brown paper bag, you immediately check the time and clock out, dipping back under the counter and grabbing your bag from its hidden spot.

“Are you off?” Yoongi finds himself asking, no longer used to leaving immediately after he purchased something. The usual fifteen minute conversation you two had was missing today, and he’s not too sure how he feels about that.

“Yes I am, you were my last customer. The store will now be run by those two heathens. Here’s to hoping they don’t bite each others heads off while they finish building whatever the fuck that is.” Taehyung is now standing up, lazily holding up a part of the display as Sana tries to screw something together, angrily giving Taehyung commands but he only mimics her with a ridiculous face. And when she socks his thigh, her fist aiming a little too close to home, you let out a laugh.

Yoongi highly doubts that’s going to be possible, Namjoon would probably have to be the one left to finish building the display while also putting them on opposite sides of the store whenever he came in for the day. It was truly a shock that they had gone this long working together without an actual fist fight breaking out. If it came down to it, Yoongi had his money on Sana being able to whoop Tae’s ass.

“Do you know any good take out spots nearby? I’m starving and I’m still new to the area so I’ll take any recommendations.” Your voice snaps him back, his eyes looking at you briefly as the question registers within him.

“Oh, yeah. There’s a place not too far from here that has pretty good jajangmyeon.”

“Hell yeah.” Your hands pat your belly softly, coming up to readjust your bag as you walk around the counter and head for the door, shouting out a goodbye to Taehyung and Sana as you leave the store. When you exit the shop, your hand holding the door open behind you, you glance back inside in confusion when you spot Yoongi still standing by the counter with wide eyes. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

Truth be told, he had been wanting to talk to you outside of work for a while but he was scared to ask, not wanting to make you feel obligated to say yes just because he was a regular at your place of employment. Something about you seemed familiar to him, and to be quite honest he just craved social intimacy. His job consumed him and coming into this record shop was the small escape he needed, you being there was just a newly added plus.

You’re on the same page he is, wanting to hang out with him just as much as he had, something about the way he seemed like a half open book interested you. Throughout all of your adventures you had forced yourself to come out of your shell, no longer afraid or bashful when it came to initiating friendships. If you wanted to get to know someone better, then you’d bite first. And you definitely wanted to get to know Yoongi better.

It takes him a moment to react, his gaze switching from you to look back over at your coworkers, seeing Sana sending you a curious glance. Yoongi was about to attempt to muster up the courage to ask you to hang out and you beat him to the punch, but after a second he grins at you with a nod. Of course he was coming.

The weather in Seoul is forgiving today, the usual cold of autumn being prevalent in the air without the need to bundle up, the slight wind not stinging your skin as it blows around you. This was probably your favorite season, comfortable enough for you to do whatever you want without feeling restricted by heavy layers or sticky from the heat.

A soft smile is on your lips, hands shoved into the pockets of your baggy cardigan, and a small pep in your step as your eyes take in the world around you. That feeling you get when you visit a new town on vacation, how you’re just passing through for a brief moment in a place so many call home, it makes you realize how small you actually are.

It’s a feeling you always longed for, to experience a new place and make it home, it's the main reason you always bounced around so much. Staring at all the shops around you, taking in all the people just going about their daily life, you’re content with your new choice of scenery.

Too lost in your own head as you take in the shops and people around you, you snap out of it when Yoongi reaches out and clasps a hand on your shoulder, steering you to turn right when you keep walking straight. “Get your head out of the clouds.”

He hears the snort you let out, allowing him to guide you the correct way. Slowly trailing away from the main road, the amount of people lessens, only a handful of stores line up around the alley you had turned into. When you spare a glance at Yoongi you can see the excitement on his face, speeding up his pace until he’s standing in front of the restaurant. It’s a small hole in the wall shop that didn’t even look like it served food from the outside, all black exterior with a red sign hung up on top showcasing their name, Ipum.

It’s charming, and the way Yoongi spreads his arm out puts a similar smile on your face. Only then does he pull open the door, allowing you to step in first before he follows.

Once Yoongi steps inside he’s immediately greeted by the workers calling out his name in glee, bowing in response with a bashful smile as he approaches the small counter set up for take out orders, not needing to read the menu. You don’t realize he’s waiting for you as you take in the interior of the restaurant, the red dining tables surprisingly packed despite their lack of advertising outside. This place really must be as good as Yoongi promised.

“Anything specific you want?” he asks, finger pointing to the small menu in his hand in case you needed it. When you shake your head, letting him know he can order anything he wants, he does exactly that, placing two orders of jajangmyeon, along with fried dumplings and sweet and sour pork to complete it. It was his go to choices whenever he came, so he hopes you’ll enjoy it as much as he does.

As you step to the side, backs pressed against the wall closest to the counter in order to keep the space open for the workers and patrons to walk comfortably in the small shop, you turn your head to glance at Yoongi again. “You come here often?”

The way the workers had spoken to him had made that glaringly obvious, but you wanted to hear it from him, wanted to know if he came here for comfort food or some other weird tradition like his ‘one-vinyl-a-day’ way of life.

It was sort of a habit he had fallen into years ago. Having grown up in this city his whole life, he had stumbled upon this place his last year of high school. It had become a staple soon after, a place he would come to directly after classes were done to come stuff his face before heading home. Then it became a place his girlfriend and him frequented when the apartment they moved into turned out to be a mere block away.

In a way, the owners of this shop had become like a second family. The amount of times they’ve seen Yoongi at his best and worst throughout the years, never once throwing judgment his way even if he came in beyond plastered back in the years he used to drink, never turning him away even if he cried into his noodles.

He decides that’s a little too much to unpack right now, so he just nods in confirmation. “Yeah, I’ve been coming here for years. One taste of their noodles and you’ll be hooked too, trust me.”

Oh you trusted him, the amount of plates you’ve seen so far just made your mouth water once they passed by you and the smell of the food reached your nose. “We should’ve just sat down, I’m not gonna be able to wait until I get home to eat this.”

As you say this one of the workers approaches you two with a tied up plastic bag in his hand, the inside stuffed with takeout boxes and utensils for you to take. Yoongi grasps the bag with a smile and thanks him as he walks away. “Don’t worry, I live like a block away.”

He realizes how his words could be taken immediately, how he had assumed you two would innocently go back to his place to share a meal. You had invited him to eat but the location of where you would be doing so had not been discussed and the last thing he wanted was to come across as a sleaze.

His mouth was ready to back track completely, until he sees the way you dramatically place your hand over your chest, and he knows it's too late, “Oh damn, your place? Saucy, but I’m starving so I’ll do almost anything.”

You can see the way he relaxes when he notices you aren’t being serious, taking his words lightly the way he intended them. His eyes roll behind his lids, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he shoves your shoulder lightly to get you to start walking.

“Is jajangmyeon all it takes?”

“Slow your roll, good jajangmyeon is all it takes. I’ve yet to have a taste.”

Yoongi smiles at your words, taking the lead when you step out of the shop and turn back down towards the main street. His apartment was on the next block over, a short walk that you didn’t mind, especially since he took it upon himself to point at random stores you passed to let you know the best places to get what.

He has a lot of love for this city, the memories it possesses spread out through his entire childhood and early adult years, lingering in each crack on the sidewalk. He often sits and wonders how different his life would be if his parents had decided to move to Busan instead of Seoul, or stayed in Daegu altogether. The thought of the timeline of his life being altered so drastically to the point of possibly not being able to be living this moment sends his mind into a flurry, so he's grateful you’ve reached his front door now as his mind settles.

“Oh my god who’s this?” You coo as you step into his apartment, crouching down towards the white stone floors to pet the fluffy gray cat that greeted you, enjoying the way it purred and rubbed against your knee.

“That's Yuri, the queen of the house.” He steps away from you, setting the plastic bag on top of the kitchen counter a few feet away, his hands pulling out the containers and setting them down. “Don’t give her too much attention or she’ll never let you leave.”

Yuri glances up at you, her bright green eyes peering up innocently at Yoongi’s words, almost as if she was pleading for you to keep petting her. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to scoop your hands under her and press her against your chest as you stand up, your fingers gently scratching the top of her head. Yoongi lets out a sigh when he sees his cat has succeeded in wrapping you around her finger.

“Sorry, she’s too cute to not cuddle with.”

She nuzzles into your chest, purring in appreciation when your fingers trail down onto her spine. Yoongi watches you as he pops open the lid of the container that holds the noodles. Yuri is his baby, yet every time a new person comes into his place she acts like he doesn’t exist— well not until he pops open the container holding the sweet and sour pork. That's when her head pops up, her green eyes sharpening when she spots the food, and Yoongi glares back at the fluffy traitor.

When Yuri's fluffy body shakes slightly as you laugh Yoongi glances back at you, breaking up the staring contest he had going with his cat. “She’s gonna betray your love right now for some pork.”

You don’t doubt him, not with the way her paws start to push at your arms, attempting to stand up in your embrace until she’s hopping off from your arms and slowly walking towards Yoongi. She’s absolutely shameless as she rubs her body against his legs, and Yoongi can only look down at her before staring back up at you, gesturing out with his hands. “You see?”

The act of betrayal doesn’t sting, not when she’s as cute as she is. Instead you just chuckle, walking towards the stools Yoongi has by the oversized kitchen island, a breakfast bar set up at the end, the food spread out on top of it. He ignores Yuri for the time being, pulling out the stool beside yours and sliding into it. The both of you pull your chopsticks apart and get to eating instantly, swirling the noodles until they’re evenly coated in the sauce.

You try to ignore the way Yoongi blatantly stares at you as you bring up the first clump of noodles, waiting to see what your initial reaction would be to the food he held so near and dear to his heart. Yoongi knows this could go south so quickly, there is nothing worse than trying something new when you’re starving and having it absolutely suck. Sensing his nerves, you slurp the noodles up, and when the salty taste hits your tongue you hum, chewing them thoughtfully to make a show for Yoongi.

“Verdict?”

He waits patiently for you to swallow, sharp eyes analyzing your expression, seeing you lick your lips and grin at him. “You weren’t lying, definitely some of the best jajangmyeon I’ve had.”

In pure dramatics, he practically sags in his seat and raises a fist into the air in success, being able to properly enjoy his food now that he knew you approved of it. The two of you begin to eat in relative silence, the sound of munching and slurping filling up his kitchen space.

As the minutes go by, the back and forth of your chopsticks plucking out a dumpling after he did, lands with you snatching the last one. An evil cackle leaving you as you pop it into your mouth and grin at him, cheeks puffed out slightly and he can’t find it in himself to be irked at you snatching the last dumpling when you looked like that.

The compromise of that is you leaving the remaining pieces of pork for him to enjoy, and when Yuri gracefully hops onto the counter you see why he had suggested that. He grasps a tiny piece of pork on his chopsticks and feeds her like a parent would a toddler, airplane noise and all until Yuri opens wide and gently clamps down on the meat.

“She’s spoiled because of you.”

He merely shrugs, a giant smile spreading across his face as he watches her with adoration as she chews the food. “I refuse to confirm or deny that.”

As you finish up the last of your food you just watch on as Yoongi alternates between feeding himself and Yuri until no more pork remains. Seeing the soft way he acts with his cat just warms you up, Yoongi had always seemed like a blunt person from the times you’ve seen him at the store, his sense of humor is one that could easily be taken as harsh or cold if you didn’t match it, but you’d never expect to see him this way. The tops of his cheeks push out as he smiles at his cat, cupping her face between his hands and rocking it back and forth before planting a kiss on her forehead.

She seems to understand that that's her cue to hop off the counter, knowing that snack time is now over as Yoongi starts to clean up the empty containers. When you reach to clean your own mess up he’s quick to slap your hands away, smirking when you retract them with a small wince, your fingers rubbing the back of your palm that he had swatted with a pair of chopsticks.

“Shoo.” He waves his arm in the direction of his couch, not giving you another glance and missing the way you pout at how he had dismissed you like he would his cat.

With a huff you turn on your heel, properly taking in his living room. From the small tidbits of half truthful information that Taehyung had provided you with, you knew Yoongi was somebody in the music industry. You had always assumed that when people said that it meant struggling soundcloud rapper or something of the sort, but from the look of his apartment alone it was very evident that Yoongi was not a struggling soundcloud rapper.

The wall of his living room was lined with floor to ceiling windows, letting you catch a glimpse of the cityscape down below, the darkening horizon and slowly flickering street lights blending together. A dark grey couch was on the wall adjacent to that, directly facing the entertainment center he had set up, complete with a massive mounted television and soundbar, a collection of DVDs organized in the storage unit below it.

You walk closer to it, catching sight of the picture frames he had displayed along the top of it. They were all simple black frames, all differing in size, all of them having photos of Yoongi and his friends on them. The one in particular that had you smiling was a photo booth picture with Yoongi and Namjoon, they were accompanied by three other people, a boy with slightly red tinged hair and a bright smile, another boy with dark brown hair and a slight pout on his face from Namjoon squishing his cheeks, and a girl with light brown hair smiling widely as Yoongi gave her bunny ears.

Namjoon was a very smiley person, never needing a reason to be, but seeing Yoongi sporting a massive gummy smile had you realizing how nicely a smile suited him. It was clear that he held this group of people near to his heart considering they all occupied the remaining photos as well.

A couple of steps right beside that was where he had his prized possession, his record player that he had fully customized to get him the desired sound he was looking for. It was a sleek black, accents of silver shining off of it, resting pretty on a dark stained wooden stand. A few of his records were stored beneath it, but what really caught your eye was the eight by eight makeshift gallery wall that showcased his current favorite LP’s, each individually shelved to show the album art in all its glory.

“Should I give this a listen with you here?”

His question has you turning your head towards him, cutting your admiration of the album covers short. He stood a few feet away, his hands holding up the orange cover of the album he had bought today with your suggestion, and a small sense of nerves bubbles up in your stomach for some reason. You had always suggested music, confident in your choices when you were in the safety of the record store, but having to witness his first impression made you a little uneasy. What if he hated the band entirely, or worse, what if he pretended he didn’t hate them just to soothe your ego.

Is this what he felt like watching you take your first bite of food earlier?

“Sure,” you choke out, taking a giant step back from his record player, hearing him chuckle at your odd behavior.

As he lifts the cover up and slides the giant record out of its sleeve you decide to go sit on the couch, sinking into the plush material and welcoming Yuri into your lap when she jumps on as well.

With a few clicks, the low whirring is heard of the turntable beginning to spin. And when he eases the needle onto the record a small crackle sounds before Get Away starts to play. He fiddles with the volume slightly until satisfied, only then does he turn back around and join you on the couch.

His face is settled in thought, bobbing his head gently to the beat as he rests back against the couch, sinking into it with a groan until he’s fully comfortable, legs spread out with one arm resting casually on his lap and the other on the arm rest, fingers tapping along.

You watch on in silence, your fingers raking through Yuri’s fur until her purring calms your nerves and you’re sagging back. Before you know it your eyes shut as you listen along to the music, your belly is full and your limbs are sore from the unpacking and rearranging that had to be done at work so being able to sit here and shut your brain off while mellow music filled the room was what you needed.

Before long the A side is finished playing, Yoongi having to get up to flip it over until the B side plays all the way through, the ending voicemail of Palace/Curse playing until it fizzles out entirely, the room falling into silence once more.

Yuri had gotten comfortable herself, sprawled out across your lap with her head by your hip, but when Yoongi gets up with a stretch her head pops up, eyes narrowing at her owner until she senses no threat and lays back down.

“Verdict?” You repeat his earlier question, seeing him hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, his lips pursed in thought.

“Honest opinion?”

“Brutally honest.”

He hums with a sly grin as he turns his head to face you. “They’re good. Kinda makes me feel nostalgic too for some reason. But as a whole, it's great music that calms you down.”

With the way you’re laying practically boneless on his couch you can attest to that, they were definitely a band you listened to to unwind. He catches the wide smile spreading across your face as he stands back up to properly store the record, your smile only getting bigger when you see him replace one of the displayed albums on the wall with the new one.

“It's going on the wall of favorites,” he announces, sliding the previous record back into the storage underneath.

“I’m honored.”

He steps back from the wall with his hands on his hips, admiring how the orange of the album pops out against the others. Yoongi very rarely switched these albums out, but he had a feeling this wall would eventually become full of the random albums you’d recommend to him.

“Quick question,” he starts as he turns back to face you, taking in the sight of you and his cat cuddling together. “It’s been sitting at the back of my mind, and Taehyung has given me like three different answers.”

A small laugh leaves you as you raise your eyebrow at him in question. “Sure, what is it?”

“Where did you move from?”

You stretch your legs out in front of you, your toes just barely reaching the coffee table he has set up a bit away from the couch, Yuri mimicking your actions and stretching out as well. You were definitely gonna grow as attached to her as you were to your roommate’s cat.

“Like where was I last before this, or where am I actually from?”

He walks towards his fridge, still being able to see and hear you due to the open layout of his place. “Both I guess.” The door pops open and he reaches for a bottle of water.“You thirsty?”

“You have some wine, or some beer?”

Yoongi grunts at that, shaking his head slightly, “Sorry, I don’t drink anymore but I’ve got water and juice.”

You’re sitting up straighter now, voicing out that the water was fine. “Where I’m from is classified information, you’ll have to level up on our friendship for me to tell you that.” You accept the water he hands you, smiling at him as he sits back on the couch. He was fine with your secrecy, taking whatever you feel comfortable telling him. “But I was in Madrid before I came here.”

“Oh? Did you leave where you’re from to go live there?”

Your fingers capture Yuri’s paw, squishing her toe beans as she gently swats at your hair. “No, I was in Amsterdam before that, and Berlin before that as well to name a few. I’ve been bouncing around since I was 20, so about 6 years now.”

He has a look of interest on his face as he sips the water, leaning onto the couch sideways to face you. “Do you ever want to go back to those places?”

“Like visiting the place more than once?”

He nods, his eyes focusing on Yuri’s fluffy body, seeing her sitting back up to hop onto the ledge of the couch, rubbing her body against the back of your head before settling on the backrest of it and getting comfy.

“Hm, not sure. I can’t see myself wanting to flip back the pages of my life to reread a story I already know the outcome to.” With a sigh you shrug at him, your fingers now tracing the material of the couch. “Maybe in the future, years from now, I’ll crave a specific memory and want to go back, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

The amount of new cities and countries you’ve been lucky enough to call home for any amount of time held a special place inside of you, the memories and stories you had because of those experiences helped shape you into the person you are. Sure not all of them were movie-like experiences, some close calls happening at a few places that made you question whether you made the right choice living your life the way you did. But then you’d have moments that just felt right, and right now, sitting on this couch with Yoongi, this was one of those moments.

“So you don’t plan on staying here forever?”

“Well what do you mean by forever?”

He smiles, not thinking he would have to explain what forever meant to him. “For the rest of your life. Is there another version of forever Y/N?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “It’s not likely, but who's to say. I never move somewhere with a time frame of how long I plan on staying.”

“How do you decide? Sorry if I’m prying but I just can’t imagine that moving somewhere new would be easy. Picturing having to leave friends behind would probably wound me.”

That was true, that was definitely the hardest part of doing this— emotionally at least. The people you met and befriended were a factor in deciding how long you’d stay somewhere. After the initial week of exploring a new place, it gets lonely. You’ve been to places where even the roommates you’d stay with weren’t friendly, and you’d have to take it a step further and search for friendships elsewhere. It was the main reason you had learned to not be timid when it came to making the first move.

“It’s kind of a gut feeling. The longest place I’ve lived in was Paris for two years.” A smile spreads across your face as you recall the two years you spent in that city, how you probably would’ve left after a few weeks if you hadn’t ran into that cute boy right before the club you were in shut down for the night. That experience alone was one of the main reasons you made it a conscious decision to not fall in love, not wanting to experience the inevitable heartbreak that came with it.

Paris was the first place you moved to, jumping head first into adventure and taking everything that came with it, including romance. Leaving friends behind had been hard, but leaving Park Jimin behind had been a different version of painful.

“Before this I was in Madrid for a month. I found myself getting comfortable too fast and when I get comfortable I get bored. When it's no longer new and exciting I don’t see the point of staying anymore.”

Yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, the carefree aura radiating off of you, but he weirdly craves it. He craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. His entire life had changed in the last few years and was now built off routine, bullet point to-do lists and deadlines he had to meet. The only adventure he experiences anymore is thanks to his friends, luring him out of his apartment to fulfil any of their spur of the moment ideas, but nothing comes close to this.

He’s not able to understand how you can be suspended in freefall for the majority of your life, and instead of panicking about your lack of parachute, you’re admiring the view.

“Do you plan on staying here forever?”

That question makes him freeze a little, he had been prying into your life no problem but now that a question was directed at him, he felt himself growing uneasy. “I guess I did.”

“Did...why past tense?”

You see the way he hesitates, his mind is already playing through all the scenarios that can come because of this but he decides to just bite the bullet. “Love makes you think of forever. I pictured forever with my fiance.”

At the mention of a fiance your mind thinks of the girl in the photos with Yoongi, the girl with the bright smile and wide eyes.

Was Yoongi a married man?

He can spot the way you process his vague information, knowing he should elaborate before you think anything else, before your eyes move to his ring finger only to find it bare. “When you’re with someone for almost 8 years its normal to think of forever you know.”

The flashes of his relationship play in his mind, meeting his fiance in his last year of high school. How they had pulled each other out of their shells, becoming rather chaotic in their adventures over the years, turning into adults and supporting each other in every aspect of life.

The memory of Yoongi proposing to her still feels fresh in his mind, taking her to Jeju island since it was a place she had always wanted to visit, not being able to due to caring for her family.

“We were actually planning our wedding, having invitations sent out with everything nearly ready but she uh–“ he stops to breathe slightly, his eyes moving to stare at the picture frames, proving your assumption of the girl being his fiance right. “She got into an accident.”

He hadn’t specified if she died or not, but that faraway look in his eyes spelled it out for you. Forever didn’t have any sympathy for his situation, but he just shrugs it off, forcing himself to not speak further on it. There was more that tied in to the tragic passing of his fiance but he felt he had overshared enough already, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by unloading this information on you. The last thing he needed was to turn this nice day into a pity party with him being the center of attention.

He’s just waiting for the routine apologetic words that would fall from your mouth—maybe you’d reach over and rub his arm like some people did, tell him how sad it was as if he didn’t already know. Some half assed attempt to make him feel better even though you were clearly blind sided by the topic.

Yoongi didn’t want that, always hating the way people would stare at him like he was some charity case. This was why he rarely chose to stray from his circle of comfort, from the people that knew the baggage that came with him and accepted him, keeping his group as tight knit as possible in order to not pick at scabbed over wounds.

When you sigh, he braces for it, mentally accepting that this might be what ends your new formed friendship before you could really creep through the cracks in the wall he built. But instead you reach forward and grasp Yuri once more, scooping her up and bringing her to your chest like a baby. “So Yuri wasn’t the only queen of the house, is that it?”

Yuri purrs in confirmation and Yoongi turns to stare at you again, blinking the wetness away from his eyes before he could even call them tears. You had a smile on your face as you stared at him, not that typical sympathetic smile people always sent his way, it was a genuine one, letting him know he was free to talk more on the subject if he needed to.

And for the first time Yoongi acknowledges that maybe he did need to. He was so used to bottling his emotions in, shutting himself off after her passing, pushing all of his friends and family away and locking himself at home as he mourned, submerging himself in his work to numb himself from feeling anything. Even now, his friends never pried, let him handle his feelings any way he wanted to. But Yoongi can’t act like his chest aches from keeping it all in, the pressure slowly releasing even with the minimal information he had given you.

“Yeah,” he sighs out in relief, reaching out to pet Yuri. “Hani was the queen before Yuri got promoted.”

As you coo at his cat he feels himself sagging back onto the couch. The small dam of emotions he had inside finally released, and before you know it he’s spilling everything out, telling you tidbit stories of him and Hani, and somehow easing you into sharing similar stories of you and Jimin.

The sun fully sets through the windows, neither of you noticing as you talk well into the night, and Yoongi found himself laughing and smiling at the mention of Hani for the first time in two years. You urge him on, watching on with interest while he talks about the day they had picked up Yuri from the shelter.

His eyes are crinkled up in that endearing way you had seen more of today than in the past weeks of knowing him, and it fills you with warmth to know he’s allowing you to know about this part of his life. It felt like sacred information, uncharted territory from the way he had hesitated in the beginning, almost like he wasn’t sure if he could trust you with the precious memories he held tightly. All he needed was a gentle nudge and a genuine smile to slowly let you flip the pages of his brain, knowing you wouldn’t judge the bleeding ink and scratched out words that came with each story.

As he stares at the way you smile at him, he comes to the realization that your sneaky ass must have already managed to slip past the cracks of the walls he built, infiltrating the tight knit circle he had for himself. He has to hold in a laugh when he recalls the way Taehyung had seriously suggested that you might be a spy sent here from another country. Maybe he was onto something, because he was refusing to accept that his willingness to overshare and stray from his norm was due to anything but your highly trained interrogation skills.

You clearly had his cat fooled as well. When Yuri leans up and nuzzles her face against yours he sighs, knowing she had claimed you as her favorite solely based on the attention you gave her. You were good. Yoongi guesses he would have to keep you around now, just for the sake of his cat, nothing more.

#yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #min yoongi #bts fluff #bts fics #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #heartsforbts #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #new #eleven months

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

Heads: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

synopsis: What's a fancy dinner date without some fancy dinner tension?

wc: 1.3 k

tw: NSFW because it's Toji. What did you expect?

A Grand 300 Celebration Fic

“This is a fancy restaurant…” you look around the beautiful steakhouse in awe, clutching your purse at your side. Toji Fushiguro brushes his fingers against your arm, smiling as he devours you with his emerald eyes.

“Anything for you, kitten.” The waiter leads you both to a table where there are only two chairs, sitting directly across from each other.

“Your server will be with you shortly.”

As the waiter walks off, you eye the one page menu with delight, noticing the lack of prices. Toji had asked you to dress up “nice” and said he would too, but showed up in a cream-colored sweater and black pants. At least it wasn’t the black t-shirt that almost always smelled like grass and dirt. And blood.

“Wait…” You put the menu down, a reasonable thought leaking into your mind. “Who’s paying for this?” At your question, Toji lets out a sharp laugh, attracting the attention of a few patrons who sat nearby.

“Darling, I bring you to a fancy restaurant - instead of takeout on the couch - and you ask who’s paying for it?” You look at him, unamused, and he clears his throat, looking back down at the menu. “I may or may not have come into some money recently.”

“So, should I call the fraud department now or--” Toji whips out his billfold and flashes the colored bills at you quickly, tucking them back into his pocket. “Ah.”

“You know,” He slides a hand under the table to touch your leg. “I had a dream about these beautiful legs wrapped around my waist last night.”

“Oh…” It suddenly dawns on you why Toji brought you here in the first place. His brows wiggle over his fox-like gaze and you roll your eyes, scooting your chair back slightly. “Can we eat first before you attempt to hump me over the table, or is that too much to ask?” Before Toji can retort, the server comes up to your table, eyes bright with excitement at the attractive couple he gets to entertain for the evening.

“Hello, my name is John, and I’ll be your server this evening. Might I start you two off with something to drink? A red wine or prosecco to start?”

“I would love to have a bottle of prosecco, John. Whatever you recommend,” you coo, and Toji’s eyes flick to you, frowning.

“And I’ll take a glass of rum,” he gripes, rolling his eyes at the way the young man eagerly takes his order down.

“Any preference on brand, sir?”

“Fucking rum, John. Whatever you have that doesn’t taste like fermented piss.”

“Toji,” you hiss, nudging his knee with the toe of your shoe under the table. “I’m sorry about my boyfriend; he’s not used to being in establishments like this.”

“Like hell, I’m not,” Toji grumbles, feeling the toe of your shoe hovering near his balls.

“It’s alright, ma’am. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” As the youth walks away, you turn back to the man, glaring daggers.

“Stop being a fucking asshole,” you snap with clenched teeth.

“I’ll show you a--”

“Listen, let’s just have a nice dinner, yeah?” you interrupt, and Toji sighs, looking away. “Then we can argue on the way back home, and you can hate-fuck me twenty ways to Sunday.”

“Ooh, I like that plan.”

Toji wasn’t crazy. You were flirting with the server and being overly nice. But the moment Toji’s eyes slid to a sultry blonde sashaying past, the flames in your chest began anew. Your relationship is... complicated, to say the least. As a sorcerer, you were his top priority to exterminate at any point in time. Toji - who lacked even a drop of cursed energy - had wanted your head just as much as you wanted his. But the first time he tried to kill you, you both had stopped mid-fight, wondering what it was all for. Here you were, two attractive young people, fighting to the death over some stupid rules. But the second time he tried to kill you, he sent you to heaven with his tongue; the third time was with his incredible prowess in bed.

So, you suppose you did have his head at some point.

Ha.

“What’re you thinking about?” Toji wonders as you laugh, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. “Let me guess, it’s about John, isn’t it?” When you don’t answer, he scoffs, running his hands through his hair. “You just enjoy this dinner. Once we get home, I’ll make sure to fuck any memory of that kid right out of your head.”

Oh, and he had your head, too.

__________________________________________

“We should probably leave before we start a scandal,” you moan, hands pressed against the stall door as Toji plows into you from behind.

“Let them talk,” he replies, holding your shoulder tightly. You hang your head low, hair coming undone from its bun, just how Toji likes it. You had gone too far in your flirtations tonight, from asking John how much he made to work here, then offering him a job working for your family in their restaurant. Toji’s eyes bore into your head when you said those words, half-drunk on six glasses of rum. Your family didn’t even own a fucking restaurant. You were just trying to get closer to the blushing youth, who denied your offer swiftly, citing his comfort at working here.

But once dinner was over, and Toji actually paid the bill - whereupon he noticed the ten digits scribbled at the top of the receipt - he pulled you into a bathroom, pushed you into a stall, and hiked your dress above your shaking knees with ease.

“You really thought I was going to let you leave here without giving you what you want so badly, huh?” he grunts behind you, and you smile slyly at no one but yourself.

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you,” you answer, looking over your shoulder into his green eyes shamelessly. His fingers find your clit and rub vigorously, stimulating you while he continues to rut against your hips..

“You never cease to amaze me,” Toji grumbles, and you grasp the arm that’s rubbing your clit, teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

“T-Toji…” you whimper, but he doesn’t let up at all. If you were being honest, it felt like he sped his motions up significantly so he could make you cum even faster. The door to the bathroom creaks open and you press your lips together so no one could hear you choke out a moan. You’re thankful he chose the handicap stall in the back, but you were keenly aware that this was not a men’s restroom. The person who enters doesn’t seem to notice, or if they do, care, and continues their business while Toji slows his thrusts to make them soundless. But when he reduced his speed, he deepened the depth of each stroke, kissing your cervix with the tip of his dick.

When the bathroom door opens and closes again, Toji picks up his speed and you moan loudly, releasing the built-up sound. “Go ahead and cum, kitten,” he purrs into your ear, and that’s all it takes for the cord to snap. You shake violently in his arms, trying to keep your footing as he continues to fuck you, the sound of something wet hitting the floor as your mouth opens in a wide “o”.

When you come down from the orgasm, Toji removes himself from inside of you and tucks his rock-hard cock back into his pants. You look up at him in confusion, but he ignores you, snatching up your underwear and stuffing it into his pants pocket.

“Glad I wore black pants because you squirted all over me.”

“Wait, you’re not--”

“I’m going to save my dessert for when we get home,” he jerks his chin at you, sliding your dress back down into place. “Hey, we could call John to come and watch, couldn’t we?”

#jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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cherry-gemz · 3 years

Text

Open Book: Part I

Summary: As the Assistant Librarian for a small town in Florida, you find yourself intrigued with an extraordinary little girl and her charming uncle. As each day goes by, you teach the girl about adventure and mystery with your love of books. Little do you know what's in store for you next.

Pairings: Y/N and Frank Adler

Rating: PG, all fluff

Word count: IDK, failed at the assignment 2k+ lol. So I split the fic.

Challenge Prompt: Write a story about someone trying to find the perfect birthday gift.

A/N: Happiest of birthdays dear @a-little-counter-esperanto. You are the bees knees and really a true gem! I'm so happy we've become friends - we have so many things in common it's cray. I'm wishing you all the love and happiness, sunshine! May you continue to have a fantastic birthday sleepover and enjoy being loved by all! Hope you enjoy the fic xx - Cherry

"Did you get the flowers?" Mary asked as she sat on the couch flipping through the tv.

Frank patted his chest and then his jeans in search of his keys.

"What?"

Mary kept changing the channels without a beat,"Frank. You're supposed to buy a girl flowers on the date."

Frank furrowed his brow, "Uh...no. Have you seen my keys? Really?"

Mary rolled her eyes, "She's not gonna kiss you goodnight."

He searched on the kitchen table and rummaged through old mail when a knock at the door interrupted his concentration. As he bee-lined to the door, Mary turned off the tv and hopped off the couch to grab her latest book she'd chiseled her way through for the week.

Frank swung the door open abruptly and started you as you stood at their doorstep.

"Hey! You made it, great!" Frank exclaimed. "Sorry, my head's a mess."

Mary now situated herself at the kitchen table and shouted over her shoulder, "It's because he hasn't been on a real date in over six months."

Frank turned red," What? No...I mean yes, but jeez, Mary. Remember we talked about how to read a room?"

He turned back to you, "Come in, come in. I'm just trying to find my keys."

You chuckled and nodded to the doorknob which held his set of keys and he smacked his forehead.

As you walked into the house, you noticed little knickknacks here and there on shelves. And books. Mountains of books everywhere. Piling on top of each other.

"Hi Mary," you smiled as she kept her back to you, nose deep in her book.

"Mary…" Frank scolded as he put his hands on his hips.

"Hi, Ms. Y/N."

You smiled as you approached her, "May I sit?"

She nodded in agreement and you pulled out a chair.

"I brought you something…" you say as you rummage through your canvas bag for your book on crabs. "Well, actually I was hoping you could help me...see…"

Frank smiled as he saw the two of you bonding. He caught himself admiring you more than he'd like to admit as he needed to head off to his date soon. He appreciated your assistance with babysitting Mary as the two of you first met at the local library. His date, Justine, was a waitress at the bar he would visit from time to time. While there was a chemistry between them, it was really just through vanity. With you, he had come to know you at a deeper level: the way you’d squint or furrow your brow when reviewing your clipboard. Or how adorable you’d look chewing on the cap of your pen when trying to finalize an email at your desk. He saw that you loved the color yellow, considering how many skirts and cardigans you’d paired together. And that you were a romantic at heart - the classics were your fave to read and how’d you get lost in historical facts when he had first asked you what your hobbies were. Seeing how a beautiful person you were, inside and out, he now regretted asking Justine out with you on his mind.

Mary's eyes scanned the books of quantum physics and mathematics. At first you thought perhaps she had another book instead, but as you watched her day in and day out, you were astounded at the tiny prodigy and her ability to ascertain such knowledge at her age. You'd correct the cataloging errors for the day and find her reading for enjoyment it seemed.

Then one day Frank arrived. Mary had always left on her own, but as if it were any old regular day, the handsome uncle came to retrieve his stellar niece. He had a warmness to him. His dark brown hair and beard complemented his face, one that was obvious in an overall attractiveness. And he was kind, he showed that by adopting his niece after her mother had passed away and truly nurturing her gifted talent. You learned he fixed boats for a living and lived not too far from the library. You smiled at the odd pair together, they somehow seemed to work however.

As you checked their books out, Mary tiptoed over the large walnut desk and glanced at you.

"You're pretty," she stated.

"Mary. What did we say?" Frank tsked, embarrassed, but didn't disagree with her observation.

"What? Frank, you told me that I need to state facts, rather than assumptions. And I am stating a fact that Ms. Y/LN is pretty. Do you think she's pretty, Frank?"

Frank coughed into his fist and blushed, you smirked, half wanting to know his answer, half laughing inside of how Mary was so blunt.

"Yes, Ms. Y/LN is very pretty," he replied and gazed at your eyes. He licked his lips and you had to turn away feeling flushed. You closed the last book and placed it in Mary's backpack.

"All set," you replied. "These are due on the 23rd."

Frank zipped up the backpack and slung it over his broad shoulder. "Thanks, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh?" You replied as Mary looked at you both attempting to assess the flirtation occuring before her eyes.

"Well, yeah, she loves it here, I mean. And we have a few other books to return."

"Yes, we'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Mary."

"Bye," Mary replied and skipped off.

Frank showed up every day after that. You found it endearing, but not wanting to read into something that wasn't there, you focused your attention on Mary. That only seemed to peak his interest further. While he had a knack for attracting women, his heart was never in it for the long haul since the minute they found out about Mary, they'd either run away from the possible responsibility, or Mary would run them off herself. But with you it was different. You were genuine and kind to Mary. Knowing quite well of her mathematical abilities, you would challenge her in other areas: art, zoology, history. You found that while she could read more college level books than any person you met in the small town, she still was a child wanting to learn about all other aspects of life. You'd sit together at a table: you, reviewing inventory spreadsheets for the latest book fair and her, immersed in some book that would put you to sleep at night.

"Frank, you should ask Ms. Y/LN out," Mary stated one day as the three of you sat at a table together. Frank practically choked and you shook your head, secretly wanting to say yes.

"Aw, Mary. Well, I bet Ms. Y/LN has guys lined up at her door every night."

"No, she doesn't," Mary replied as she turned a page of her book. Frank laughed and placed his hand on Mary's shoulder, pretending to shake her.

"Well, actually Ms. Y/LN…" he said as your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N," you interrupted. "You can call me Y/N. I feel we're on a first name basis now considering you're here everyday."

“Y/N,” he smiled. His hair was more combed today. You had noticed that he seemed to be disheveled when you first met him, however either Mary’s tactics were rubbing off on him, or it was your pure imagination.

“Yes?” you piped. You haven't been regularly dating lately. There just weren’t many prospects these days. Not ones that could keep up with conversation, let alone intellect. So instead, you found yourself immersed with your favorite fictional characters in the sea of books you’d grown to know and love.

His brow furrowed, he seemed nervous and he picked at the edge of a book as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

“Do you have a favorite book?” Mary interrupted as Frank turned to her, but seemingly glad she saved him from embarrassment.

“Do I have a favorite book? Hmmm...” you thought and a childish smile appeared on your face. “I have many favorite books, Mary...The Velveteen Rabbit, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe…”

“Yeah, but what’s like your most favorite book?”

You extended your hand out to her and she willingly accepted. Frank perked up his interest as he watched the two of you scamper off into the fiction area. Curious, he stood up and decided to follow. The two of you giggled quietly as you made your way around the columns, your free hand lightly ghosting over the spines of the books. The subtle scent of paper and dust permeated Frank’s sense of smell. He was more of an outdoorsy person nowadays as he had left behind his scholarly days teaching in Boston. It’s where Mary learned most from, his appetite to keep learning, vernacular, and wit . You slowed down and perused a row until you found your favorite book.

“Aha!” you exclaim and hid the book behind your back as Mary jumped up and down with excitement. “Now, I’m not sure if this is something you’d be interested in, it’s more for ten year olds in my opinion. However, I know you’re a very mature young lady and I find that you’d quite enjoy the story if you give it a chance.”

Frank smiled, perplexed as to what book could possibly be your favorite. You pulled the book from behind and showed Mary.

“Little Women,” she stated. “By Louisa May Alcott.”

“Yes. It’s a beautiful story, really. About sisters and the trials they endure during the American Civil War. There’s friendship, love, and growth.”

Mary bunched her nose, you could tell she was on the fence about whether she’d enjoy a story about fictional sisters and yucky love stuff. You started to pull it away, however she grabbed it from your hands. You laughed and looked at Frank who leaned onto the columns and folded his arms.

“Seems someone is wanting to expand their horizons,” he chuckled.

“So it seems,” you smiled back as Mary skipped off to return to the table leaving the two of you behind.

“I’m more of a Lord of the Rings man myself.”

“Really?” you responded playfully. “The Hobbit included, right?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “I think I actually just read that one to be honest, I just wanted to impress you. I spent my time reading Calvin and Hobbes more, probably how Mary learned my sarcasm.”

You laugh and touch his forearm as a reflex, but quickly realize and pull away. The spark that you felt when you connected was undeniable. You felt butterflies with him standing next to you and you hoped he hadn’t noticed your inability to remain calm.

“Y/N…” he started to say nervously. “Would it be alright if I called ya? Maybe we can get together sometime?”

“Oh, umm,” you replied, caught off guard. While you definitely had caught feelings for the handsome man, you never would have thought it’d be reciprocated. You stuttered, trying to gather your response.

Your hesitation threw him off, and he quickly replied, “I mean...like to sit for Mary or whatever. She really likes you.”

“Of course...yes,” you reply defeated in hopes that he would have asked you out. Instead of asking why he didn’t, you started to walk back to Mary. Frank scrunched his face in frustration in knowing he missed his shot with you and blurted out the most platonic question instead. He realized as well and quickly shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and followed your lead.

Frank watched as you comfortably plopped yourself next to Mary on the couch, dreading that he had to meet up with Justine. He’d much rather relax on the couch with you and the rugrat, enjoying some silly kids movie together.

You peered over the couch, “Is it okay if she has popcorn?”

“What? Yes,” Mary said flatly and jumped off the couch to the kitchen.

“Okay, miss. But not too much sugar. Bedtime is still at 9,” Frank replied as you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s the weekend, Frank,” Mary called out from the kitchen.

“Yes, but-“

“Will you be late?” you asked.

He looked at you in surprise, “Um, no. Probably before ten?”

“Okay, have fun.”

“It’s Y/N’s birthday,” Mary replied, carrying two coke bottles and a bag of jelly beans.

You shook your head in regret of ever telling the child when your birthday was. She was so inquisitive that day, asking about all your favorites: food, animals, books, and now birthday.

“It’s your birthday?!” Frank asked.

“Yeah, no big deal.”

“How old are you?” Mary asked as she set the drinks on the coffee table and then remembered how Frank would scold her about leaving water rings. She grabbed the coasters and placed them under the bottles.

“Mary!” Frank detested and placed his hands on his hips.

“How old do you think I am?” You tease, waving off to Frank that it was okay.

“Older than Justine, that’s for sure. She said she was 24, but looks 34. But she acts like she's 12. She hasn't even read anything on quantum physics, she thought wave mechanics was something Frank was working on with a boat,” she said coolly and popped a few jelly beans into her mouth. She nestled herself back into the couch cushions and wiggled her feet.

“Mary Elizabeth!” Frank’s voice boomed as he entered the living room.

Mary leaned over to whisper to you, “Frank says I'm not supposed to correct older people. Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“And a busy body,” he huffed.

You nodded and laughed quietly, entertained at his expense.

“Well I am 32,” you smiled and looked at your watch, “As of one hour ago as a matter of fact.”

“That’s good. You’re much more mature than Justine and a better fit for him. Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Mary…that’s it. You’re on your last warning,” Frank bellowed. “Don’t make me let Y/N go home and then you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“What? No! Okay. I’m sorry,” she lamented and folded her arms.

Frank’s demeanor changed as he turned to you, “I hadn’t known it was your birthday. Don’t feel pressured to sit for her tonight if you have other plans.” Secretly he wanted to cancel on Justine and spend the night celebrating you instead.

“Oh it’s okay! It kind of appeared out of nowhere. I usually go back home and celebrate with friends and family, but my schedule didn’t permit it this year. Next year, perhaps.”

“What’s your favorite dessert?” Mary asked as she chewed on another handful of jelly beans.

“Red velvet cheesecake,” you smiled. “I have a sweet tooth.”

Frank couldn’t concentrate on his date with Justine. His mind was elsewhere. On you. Justine grazed her hand as they sat next to each other at the bar. He seemed unfazed by her gesture and looked at his watch, 9:14pm. Would it be too obvious if he cut the date short that he was into you? He coughed and took a swig of his beer.

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” She cooed and bit her lip in anticipation.

“What? Oh actually I was gonna head out. The sitter needed me home by 9:30,” he lied.

“Oh, sitter?”

“Yeah, Mary. Remember? My niece?”

“That’s right. How old is she again?”

“Seven,” He said, annoyed. He recalled they had met once before. The bartender approached them and handed Frank the receipt.

“Hey, do you have any desserts on the menu?”

Justine’s ears perked in curiosity of where he was going with asking about dessert.

The bartender grunted slightly and threw a mangled tri-fold menu and Frank grabbed it quickly.

“Buddy, ring me up for the red velvet cupcake.”

#Laurens birthday challenge #Lauren's birthday sleepover #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #frank adler #gifted #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fluff #♡ frank adler ♡#open book

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quiet-onset · 3 years

Text

New Suit

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k+

A/N: it’s been forever since I’ve posted, but I have been writing since I was stuck at home with covid 😅 Hopefully I can post something else next week too! ANYWAYS, this fic does not have any TFAWS spoilers and (as usual) does not give a fuck about Endgame, meaning our favorite dysfunctional couple Tony and Steve are alive. Steve simply passed on the mantle. Enjoy!

So Sam was Captain America. And he was proud of that fact.

The day that Steve decided to retire and give him one of his most prized possessions was a day Sam would never forget. A whirlwind of emotions had swelled in his chest. Shock, unworthiness, gratitude. But after talking it over with Steve — and surprisingly enough, with Bucky — Sam agreed to take in the role.

The thing was, no one knew yet. At least, no one outside of the Avengers facility.

Immediately after Thanos, there weren’t really any Avengers level threats. Most threats could be handled by one team member, and it was usually one of the newbies — Peter, Scott, even Wanda. That being so, Sam didn’t have much of a reason to even make public appearances. So he didn’t.

Sometimes, he’d stand in the training room, the red, white, and blue shield strapped to his arm, and just stare in the mirror. Something felt wrong. Out of place. Like the reflection before him was almost right, but he still couldn’t tell what was wrong. Tony had caught him one time as he stepped into the room, a sports bottle full of ice cold water in his hand. “Mid-life crisis?”

Sam jumped at his loud voice and almost scrambled to detach the shield from his arm, like a kid caught with his grubby little hand in the cookie jar. “My bad, I’ll just—“

“No no, keep it on.” Tony waved a hand. “I gave it to Steve, he gave it to you. It’s yours, no give backsies.”

Sam nodded but took the shield off anyway. He decided that he didn’t need to train anymore and headed toward the door. “I’m just gonna go put this back.”

“What is going on with you, Wilson?”

“What do you mean?”

Tony raised a brow, “What do I mean? You staying cooped up in this facility. Barely training with the shield. Opting out of assignments. That’s what I mean.”

“There’s not much of a need.”

“There is. You just don’t see it yet.” Tony walked toward him. “Look, I know being the new Cap has you freaked out—“

“I’m not freaked out.”

“Sure. But Steve chose you and that should be good enough.”

“It is.” Sam huffed as he turned the shield in his hands. “I don’t know, man. I just… It’s just hard to believe. Hard to put in action, I guess.”

“Well, seeing is believing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Head to room 626 when you get a chance.”

“What’s in room 626?”

“You’ll see.”

—

Sam exited the elevator on the sixth floor to loud muffled music. Looking around, he realized he’d never even been to that part of the facility before. The white walls and obscure art seemed strange and misplaced in a building full of superhumans. Too clean, too elegant.

Each of the rooms seemed that way too. Sam paused in the hallway, glancing through some of the glass doors with people’s names painted neatly at the top. Hardwood floors and marble countertops in each room. So impeccably clean that even dust bunnies wouldn’t dare step foot inside.

Yet, when Sam approached room 626, he realized this was where the loud music was coming from. Different from the other rooms, this one was messy and colorful. He slid the glass door open, flinching at loud volume.

He recognized the track — his father used to listen to it all the time when he was growing up. He could almost hear his dad’s deep voice teasing him: “You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout this, son. This was before your time.” Of course Sam knew the song. His dad was the one who put him on. Still, Sam’s dad always got a kick out the playful fight he put up.

The long, seemingly endless hallway was painted a blinding white. He could make out a peculiar smell as he walked toward the end of the hall. Wet paint or fumes, he wasn’t really sure. He just pulled his shirt over his nose and kept looking for… well only God really knew.

Finally, he arrived in the main room and saw you and your controlled chaos. You had ten or twenty different fabrics pinned to one wall and sketches of different outfits pinned to the opposing one. Against the back wall were mannequins wearing your works in progress. And just in front of Sam on a large wooden desk were schematics and what looked like engineering tools. Soldering iron, wires, circuit boards, and the like.

Everything seemed like a tornado of colors, clothes, and fabric. But you? You were as cool as a cucumber with your expensive looking spray painting mask strapped on as you sprayed the back of a jean jacket with bright pink paint. Sam chuckled when he heard your muffled voice sing along to the song, not noticing his presence. “Sherry bay-yay-by. Sherry, wontcha come out tonight.”

Sam pulled his shirt back down with a small grin on his lips, debating whether he should disturb you. In the end, he decided to save you the embarrassment, but by then, you’d already moved on to the next verse. You dropped your voice down low in an attempt to sound just like Nick Massi, singing, “Why don’t you come on.”

Sam let out a loud laugh, only covering it with his hand as you jumped, finally realizing someone else was in the room. “Sorry.” Sam chuckled. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your concert.”

You pulled the mask over your head, revealing a nervous smile. You jogged to the desk and grabbed the remote to switch off the stereo. “Concert’s a flattering choice of words.”

“Well you were really nailing that Massi.”

You raised a brow as you set down the can of spray paint. “You listen to Four Seasons?”

“Growing up, it was a staple in the Wilson household.” He offered his hand. “I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Y/N.” You shook it, an impressed smile on your face. “So what can I do for you, Sam?”

“I’m actually not sure. Tony just kinda sent me up here.” He raised a brow when you gasped, amused with your excitement. He smiled as the cute squeal that pushed past your lips. “I assume you know what that means.”

“I’ve been asking him forever if I could design your new suit!”

“New suit?”

“I mean, if you’re okay with it.” You added.

“I just don’t see why I need a new suit is all.” Sam shrugged as he looked around at all your work. He knew, way deep down in the rational part of his consciousness, that he needed a new suit. There wasn’t anything wrong with his Falcon suit, but wearing a new suit seemed too definite. If he put on a new combat suit, it meant that he was fully stepping into this new role. That he would be Captain America in more than just name. People would look at him, at his suit, and recognize that he was the Captain America.

“How about this?” You stepped toward him, prepared to bargain. “Let me make you a suit. If you don’t like it, I’ll just give your Falcon suit an upgrade. Deal?”

He let out a nervous chuckle at your offer. He had nothing to lose, really. Either way, he got upgrades. Still, he looked over at you and decided he couldn’t be the one to snuff the ambitious look in your dark eyes. He shook your hand, smiling softly at the triumphant grin that broke across your face. “Deal.”

“Great!” You were bouncing on your toes when he agreed. You practically raced back to your desk and started shuffling through your sketches and until you found the folder you were searching for. You handed them to Sam, “You can come back tomorrow morning so I can take your measurements. Till then, look through these sketches and tell me what you like.”

“So you’ve been working on this for awhile?” Sam asked, briefly flipping through the many colorful sketches.

“Ever since Tony told me about you.”

He let out a breath of amusement through his nose. Of course it was Tony, trying to set things in motion before Sam was even sure of what he wanted. Still, he knew Tony was trying to help. Sam gestured with the folder. “I’ll take a look.”

“Cool. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

—

When Same woke up the next day, he found himself immediately thinking about meeting with you later. He felt weird. Nervous, even. Whether it was due to the idea of a new suit — of being Captain America — or seeing you, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt like a swarm of butterflies had flown from his stomach to his throat and decided to make a home there.

After stepping out of the shower, which took twenty more minutes than usual, he fumbled around for something to wear. What was he supposed to wear to fitting anyway? Sweats? Jeans? As his mind wandered, he thought of you. Rather, he thought of how you would see him. Maybe I should wear the green shirt, he thought. Girls always seem to like the green shirt.

He paused. Why was he thinking that?

He’d just met you. He knew a total of two facts about you: your name was Y/N and you listened to Four Seasons. That was hardly enough for Sam to be worried about how he looked for you. Yet, there he was, slipping on the dark green shirt that seemed to stretch ever so slightly across his broad chest. He settled on a pair of dark jeans before heading down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

As he stepped into the communal kitchen, Bucky was already sitting at the island, back facing Sam. He had just returned from his daily run, still in his sweatpants and white T-shirt with a cup of coffee in front of him. “There’s still fresh coffee in the pot.” Bucky mumbled into his cup as he flipped to the next page of the newspaper.

“Thanks.” Sam walked past him, slapping the newspaper into Bucky’s face as he walked by. “Why are you reading a newspaper?”

“To keep up with the news. Like a normal person.”

“There are these great new things called cell phones. Most people read the news on those now.”

“Well, I’m not most people, am I?” Bucky lowered the newspaper and furrowed his brow at the sight of Sam. “What girl are you trying to impress?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Green shirt.”

“What about it?”

“That’s your ‘I want a girl to like me’ shirt.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam scoffed as he poured a second cup of coffee. “This is just a shirt.”

“The shirt.”

“I’m not having this argument with you.”

“Not much of an argument when you know I’m right.” Bucky smirked. “Who’s the second cup for?”

Sam paused as he realized he’d been caught, but quickly recovered with an eye roll. “For me. So I don’t have to come back and hear your annoying ass voice.”

“Mhm. Tell the girl I said hi.”

“Screw you.” Sam left the kitchen to the sound Bucky’s chuckles, reluctant to admit that he was right. Moments later, he was waiting for the elevator, tapping his shoe to distract himself from the butterflies that were starting to flutter around again. When the doors slid open, Tony briefly greeted Sam before stopping and pulling off his glasses. “Green shirt?”

Sam stepped past him. “Shut up.”

Every step closer to your workspace had him jittery. Not only was he forced to deal with these unfamiliar feelings for you — if that’s what they were — but he was finally being confronted with his new position. One step closer to replacing Steve. To being Captain America. Yet, he couldn’t deny, he could envision himself in some of the suits you had sketched for him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

When he entered 626, there was loud music playing once again. Another old song he recognized, Van Morrison. He smiled at the thought of you dancing around your space again, singing along to Brown Eyed Girl. It wasn’t so much about him catching you in the act. It was nice, a privilege really, to see the natural you. Eyes closed, arms up, hips swaying. Seeing how you act when you believed no one was watching was like strangely endearing.

And there you were, almost matching his wandering thoughts to a tee. You were setting up for work, once again not noticing Sam’s arrival. You danced across the room as you moved things from place to place. You began to sing out the words as you prepared to lift your tri-fold mirror. Sam broke from the trance and called out your name. You jumped and placed a hand over your heart, laughing quietly when you saw it was only him. “Caught me again.”

“To be fair, you seem pretty easy to catch with the way you get lost in music.” Sam smiled, placing the coffee cups on your desk, far from any of your papers. “Let me get that for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“It’s no problem. Just tell where you want it.”

You stepped away from the mirror, tossing a stray braid over your shoulder with a smile. “Just over there, in front of that pedestal. Thanks.” When he went to lift it, your eyes were drawn to his arms, watching his biceps flex. You caught yourself before you could begin to stare, heat rising to your cheeks as you went to look for your measuring tape.

“Oh, by the way, I brought you a cup of coffee.” Sam mentioned as he set the mirror down. “You know, if you drink it? I didn’t know what you put in it, if anything, so it’s black. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect, actually.” You sighed happily. “I’ve been trying to replace coffee with loud music in the mornings, hence the dancing.”

“Of course.” He chuckled in response.

“And while I love to blast Morrison at nine in the morning, it’s not the same without a hot cup of coffee.” You took the cup he offered with a smile. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

Sam couldn’t help how his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t mention it.”

You took a sip, “So, you ready to get measured for your new suit?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Great, just step onto the pedestal for me, and relax.”

“Got it.”

It was quiet as you brought the tape measure under his arms and around his chest. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Sam was sure his nerves had to be radiating out of him. The butterflies were beating against his ribcage as you pulled just tight enough on the tape measure. You took note of the number and bent over to write it down on your notepad. Being so close to you, Sam felt himself tense up as you measured around his waist. You chuckled and looked up at him. “You gotta relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“If you don’t loosen up, your new suit is gonna be super tight in all the wrong places.” You joked. “Talking usually helps.”

“About what?”

“Anything.” You shrugged. “Like why are you so opposed to a new suit?”

Almost as if it was a reflex, Sam tensed up again with a nervous and playful chuckle. “Way to get me to relax.”

“I’m just saying.” You laughed, adjusting the tape once again. “It’s not like you’re not qualified. I mean, Steve chose you.”

“Yeah, he did. I wish it were that simple in my mind.” He admitted.

“What’s your mind saying?”

“What isn’t it saying?” Sam rolled his eyes at himself. “It’s just… I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t want to put that on you. That’s not your job.”

“It’s not.” You agreed with a chuckle. “But that’s not why I asked. You can tell me.”

Again, with a wave of confusion, he felt the tension melt away. He didn’t know why he felt this way, like he could tell you anything and everything. There was a familiarity about you, like you were someone he’d known his entire life despite only meeting twenty hours ago. His father probably would’ve called you an old soul. Maybe in some other lifetime, in another universe, you knew each other. Or maybe, this was just fate coming to pass. Destiny finding, not two halves, but two wholes — putting them together like some sort of experiment to see what would come of it.

“It’s just… how am I supposed to follow after Steve?” He asked. “He has such a huge story, this legacy just hanging over my head. He’s been saving people since before either of us were born. And now here I am, some dude from the Air Force that met Steve completely by accident, about to take up his shield. It just seems unbelievable. Literally.”

You nodded as you measured around his left thigh. “First, let me say that your feelings are completely valid.”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to decimate everything I just said?”

“Not decimate!” You laughed. “Just gently prove wrong.”

“Oh, in that case.” He smiled down at you.

“Shut up.” You snapped him with the tape measure before measuring his other thigh. “Steve is not the only one with a story. I mean, Sam Wilson, the guy who grew up in Harlem, lost his parents and his best friend, and still managed to not give up? The guy Steve Rogers trusted with his life almost immediately after meeting him? The same dude who stole a top secret government project and used it to become a superhero? I think that’s pretty badass.”

Sam considered your words with a small smile. Sure, he may have seemed normal — maybe even mundane — to himself, but the fact is that he had also been through a lot. Just like Steve, Sam realized that his life was no walk in the park. Not many people couldn’t have lived Sam’s life and come out the other side not just okay but strong. He wasn’t Steve Rogers, but that didn’t matter. He was Sam Wilson, and maybe that was okay.

“You’re good at that.” He commented quietly, looking down at you. He just about caught himself staring at you. The bright smile across your ruby shaded lips, the almost childlike excitement in your eyes. And your eyes — jesus. They were the same color as his, a dark brown. Yet, he couldn’t help but find yours so much more interesting.

“At what?”

“Talking to people.”

“Not everyone. Just...” You shook your head as you stood up straight. There was something indecipherable in his eyes — or maybe you wanted to believe it was. Still, it was there. Admiration, confusion, gratefulness? You weren’t sure. But the intensity of his stare made heat spread across your cheeks one more, and you ducked your head, moving to the side to measure the length of his arm. “Just people like you.”

Minutes later, you finished his measurement and moved on to the designs. You and Sam went through each and every one, noting his likes and dislikes. As time went on, it became very apparent that he was ready to be Captain America. Even if he wasn’t sure yet, you were. Much too soon, every detail of his new suit was planned out, and it was time for Sam to go.

“If I make this my top priority, I can have your new suit finished in two weeks, tops.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Sam said bashfully. “I’m sure you have other work to do.”

“None as exciting or as important.”

“Now you’re just stroking my ego.” He joked.

You scoffed painfully, “Like you need me to do that.”

You walked beside him, down the hall and to the elevator. He couldn’t help but wish he had some sort of excuse to stay, but leading the Avengers meant a mountain of responsibilities. Still, he wanted to see you again. Not for work and not for designing a new suit. He wanted to get to know you away from the fabric and tape measures. He wanted to find out how someone as sweet and breathtaking as you could even exist in a world filled with such evil left and right. So, he rocked back and forth for a moment before turning to you.

“And um, Y/N?”

“Yes?”

Sam fully intended to ask you out just then. But he felt like he couldn’t move. A feeling of nervousness he hadn’t gotten since he was a teenager, he was frozen. Staring at you like a deer in headlights, his brain screamed at him: Just ask her, you dumbass! Then, the elevator announced its arrival with a ding and broke his concentration. He cleared his throat and smiled nervously. “Thank you again. You’ve been a huge help.”

You blinked in confusion but stammered out, “Glad to be of service.”

It wasn’t until a few days later that Sam had gained the courage to do what he should’ve done in that moment.

The city was in danger — some high-level Hydra threat — and the Avengers were needed. Everyone rushed off to suit up, including Sam. That’s when he saw it. You had just finished his suit, and it was more than Sam could’ve ever imagined. A shiny white breastplate with red decals on the torso, blue pants lined with bulletproof material, and to top it off, his signature red wings. That was something he wanted to keep. They reminded him of his humble beginnings, of what made him the man that Steve chose to be Captain America.

And Captain America he was.

Sam was aware of all the stares he got as he fought the Hydra agents and ended the crisis with the rest of the team. He knew it would take some getting used to. But he was pretty sure — no, extremely sure that he could do this. He could be the symbol that the public needed.

He strolled back into the Avengers Complex, handing a handcuffed Hydra agent off to be questioned, when he saw you. You were usually there waiting, ready for feedback on your new toys and inventions. But what Sam said surprised you.

“Hey Sam,” You started. “Did your new suit fare well? I was already thinking of some modifications based on —“

“Would you like to go out with me this Saturday?”

You blinked, lowering your clipboard in shock. “What?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me on Saturday?” He smiled wide and unabashedly. Then, with no hesitation, you smacked him on the arm with your clipboard, making him bark out a laugh.

“Took you long enough.”

#sam wilson x reader #cap!sam wilson x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson x black!reader #cap!sam wilson x black!reader #marvel x black!reader #sam wilson fanfiction #cap!sam wilson fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x black!reader

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lovely-ateez · 3 years

Text

Favorite Place~

ꕥPosted: 3/8/21

ꕥGenre: College!au, Angst, Fluff

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Emo!Hongjoong

ꕥWord Count: ~4.8k

ꕥWarnings: General angst (happy ending), Unknown man being creepy to reader, Characters insulting reader behind her back, Alcohol intake, Driving with a few sips of alcohol (please don’t drink and drive), Implied violence, Language, Oral (f recieving), Unprotected sex, Corruption kink, Language

ꕥA/N: Reader is a girly-girl bc we need more rep that isn’t hella negative and to actually be portrayed as smart and hardworking for once 😤 You👏can👏be👏both👏 ANyWay—thank you for bearing with me while I wrote this

I ran my hands along the open science textbook laying upon my desk, eyes scanning rapidly over the information. The pages were thin and flimsy, clearly showing the book’s age. If I wasn’t careful, the pages would rip with ease. Not that I had time to actually think about that.

In less than five minutes I, along with the twenty five other poor souls who took this class of their own volition, would be handed our last final for the class. A hundred and ten questions in an hour and thirty minutes.

The class was basically academic suicide and had I been told that, I would have stayed far, far away from the class. But no. No one bothered to run that by me.

A whiff of familiar cologne filled my nose and against my better judgement I looked up to find the class genius, Hongjoong Kim. It was bad enough that he was smart as a whip and never needed to study, but on top of it all he was a dangerous, handsome, irresistible bad boy.

He gave me a wink, a sly smile resting on his lips. I gave him the same reaction I always did: a blank face. There had been multiple times he had tried to rile me up, whether that be say something flirty or wink, or “accidentally” touch my shoulder, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of any reaction. I would keep a blank face, hoping that he would leave me alone.

I wasn’t immune to his charms. I felt butterflies in my stomach every time he looked at me just like any other girl he tried it on, but I didn’t want him to know that. The biggest reaction I had given him was an eyebrow quirk at most.

I could tell it bothered him. I knew he was frustrated that he couldn’t get me to blush or stutter my words, and that may have been part of why he kept up his antics. Probably the entire reason, knowing him. Had he not been a fuckboy, I might have fallen for him. Might have.

I returned my eyes to my book and heard his footsteps walk past me, headed to the very back of class. His usual spot.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen,” A loud clap could be heard from the front of the room, our professor signalling the start of class, “It is time for your final. I hope you all are well prepared. I ask that you remove anything from your desk aside from a pencil and I will begin to hand out the tests. You may leave as you finish, just make sure to hand me your tests before you leave. Good luck.”

Book already off my desk, I gripped my pencil, hoping six hours of studying was enough.

“Thank you.” I muttered to my professor as he placed the stack of papers on my desk.

Here goes nothing, I suppose.

I handed in my test with a smile, hoping that I’d pass. Taking a deep breath I stepped out of the classroom, seeing a familiar face. At the noise of my footsteps Hongjoong looked up from his phone with a devilish smile, eyes staring me down. I must’ve not noticed he turned in his test before mine, not that I was surprised. He always finished his test the quickest out of all of us.

“How’s it going, pretty-in-pink?”

Pink was my favorite color and and I wore pink clothes often, unfortunately it had earned me several unwanted nicknames, all coming from Hongjoong.

I barely bothered him a glace, “I have a name.”

“But your nicknames are so unique to you. Don’t you love them?”

“Can’t say I do.” I walked away, not interested in entertaining him any longer than I already had.

“Farewell, princess.” He fleeted me with a honey-like voice.

Suppressing an eye roll, I gripped the straps of my backpack, ecstatic to get away from him. The more time I spent away from him the better. The less time I was with him meant there was less of a chance for me to get attached to him. I refused to let that happen.

After I left the building I grabbed a coffee and walked to the library, bracing the cold weather. I only had one final left and I needed to make sure I studied enough. Just one last push before I was done for the semester. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, I saw a familiar face who smiled at me and I sat down at his table.

“Hey! How do you think you did on the final?” Lia asked me as I took my laptop out.

“Honestly I don’t know. I don’t want to say I passed because knowing my luck, if I do I’ll fail it. I knew the majority of the answers though, so there’s that.”

“That’s a positive.” She cocked her head, observing the way my eyes were glued to my laptop, “So what are you studying for now?”

“Criminal Psychology. I don’t take it until late tomorrow but I wanna get some studying in.”

“You’ve been studying for hours, you’ll be fine. Let’s just go shopping instead.”

My ears perked and I slowly raised my head, “Damn you. You know I’m not gonna turn you down.”

A wide smile formed on her face as she placed her hands behind her head, “What are friends for?”

“Oh don’t look so cocky.”

“Why not? I’m pretty sure I’ve won here. Now let’s get going.”

Lia stood up and slid on her backpack, a smile still plastered on her face. Just as I was placing my laptop in my own backpack I heard a string of male voices and a mention of my name.

I gave Lia a look and, curiosity taking over, I snuck closer to the direction of the voices to see a group of men at a table hid behind a large stack of bookshelves. There were four of them, not a one of them sitting properly in a chair. Two were sitting on top of the table, another with his legs propped on the table, the other sitting upon a backpack which itself was on a chair. I could only see two of their faces and didn’t recognize either.

“We’ve gotta invite the token good girl, right?” A tall man with dark hair smiled, leaning back on the table.

A man with distinct dimples, clad in all black scoffed, “Y/n? Like she’d go to a party anyway.”

“She might.” Hongjoong tiled his head, allowing me to see him, black earrings swaying as he looked at the man with dimples.

Oh. He’s there, too.

“She dresses like she still believes in the tooth fairy.” A man with a blonde ponytail scoffed, “You think she’s gonna come to a party with people like us?”

I grabbed Lia’s arm to prevent her from storming over. She was upset, I was too, but I wanted to keep listening. Still, I couldn’t deny the pang of hurt I felt as I looked down at my pink skirt and cropped top. Was it a crime to like the color pink?

And I thought I looked cute today...

“You should be the last person to judge someone over the way the dress, Yeosang. You never wear anything but black. If she likes it, then she likes it. Fuck you.” Hongjoong bit back.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t know why he defended me, maybe he was just defending fashion for fashion’s sake and it had nothing to do with me, but it was still nice of him.

Yeosang smiled, “Damn someone’s aggressive, huh? Someone might almost think you’ve got feelings for the girl.”

Hongjoong remained silent.

“Ooh is she still not reacting to your desperate attempts to woo her?”

Hongjoong quickly became defensive, “Listen, I’m not-”

“Okay we’re not getting into this. Just invite her, you never know what she’ll say.” The dark-haired man said to Hongjoong, “And invite her friend, too. She wouldn’t go alone.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point. I’ll talk to them next time I see them.”

I turned to face Lia, whispering in her ear, “Let’s go. Please.”

Her face told me that she would much rather confront them, but changed as my eyes began to water once more. She nodded and put an arm around me, leading me out of the library.

A tear fell down my cheek as we walked. I raised my hand to wipe my face when Lia did it for me. She pulled me into a tight hug, running her hands through my hair.

“Don’t you think for a second that you’re any less of amazing. Fuck them for not seeing it.”

As she spoke more tears began to fall and my breath hitched, “But-t they-”

“No. There’s no excuse for being shitty to you, especially when you haven’t done anything to wrong them.”

I nodded, trying my best to believe her and steady my breathing.

“What can I do for you? What can I do to help?”

Releasing Lia from my tight grip I stepped back and looked in her eyes, “Nothing. Let’s just go shopping.”

My friend nodded and slipped her hand into my own, something she would always do when I needed comfort. I squeezed her warm hand, following her footsteps as she led me to her car.

“So...you’re not gonna go to the party are you?”

“Yeah I don’t think so.”

She let out a hum in approval and nodded, opening the car door for me.

As much as I wanted to take my mind off of the boys’ words, I couldn’t. No amount of retail therapy seemed to help that. I knew Lia was doing her best to make me feel better and I felt a bit guilty for bringing down the mood. She scoffed when I told her, making eye contact and emphasizing that she simply wanted to make me feel better.

Sooner than I liked, we had to part. Lia had a class in thirty minutes and I had to help out in an on-campus activity. She gave me a tight hug and a small smile, bidding me adue.

I was the Vice President of our Activities Planning Board and as such was in charge of setting up an Academic Bowl for the competing students. Unfortunately, I was having trouble setting up the large tables and my small frame just made it harder. I was confident anyone around could see that I was struggling and I huffed, hoping no one would look my way. It didn’t help that I was outside in the middle of campus, where anyone just walking by could see me.

“Do you need any help?”

I turned to find Hongjoong with his dark backpack slung over his shoulder, a concerned look on his face. Had I not desperately needed help, I would have refused.

“Yeah I do. Hold this, will you?” I nodded at the opposite side of the table I was struggling to hold.

He appeared shocked that I accepted his offer, but I didn’t dwell on it and instead lifted the table. We worked in silence aside from a few words of instruction I gave him, and I was thankful for the lack of distraction. When we set up the last table I placed my hands on my hips, looking at the tables.

Hongjoong crossed his arms, “Why were you doing this alone?”

“No one else signed up to help for the Academic Bowl, so I did it myself.” He gave a confused look so I clarified my position.

“Of course you’re the Vice President.” Hongjoong muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I faced him, feeling slightly offended.

He shrugged, “I know you’re just involved in a lot. I’m not surprised.”

Ignoring his comment, I took the conversation another direction. “Why did you help me?”

“You needed help, princess.” He answered simply.

I nodded, ignoring the nickname. “Well...thanks.”

A moment of silence followed until Hongjoong broke it, “Hey listen, there’s a party this weekend I want you to go.”

“Why?” I cocked my head.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know anyone that will be there.”

“You know me.”

“That’s not exactly an incentive.”

He scoffed in mock offense, “Okay first of all, ouch. Second, what if I sweeten the deal?”

My eyebrows raised, lips forming a smile, “Oh yeah? What could that possibly be?”

He faltered for a moment, his voice lowering seemingly without intent, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You’re beautiful.”

I turned from him, trying to will any semblance of a flustered expression off my face. “You were saying before?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “I’ll drive. You can even invite your friend if you want.”

“Lia?”

“Yeah. If it makes you more comfortable.”

At first, I wanted to say no. At first, I wanted to continue my streak of refusing any advance he made on me. But looking at his kind eyes, completely devoid of any malintent, I felt my heart flutter. When my mind thought back to how he had defended me in the library I felt a warmth bubbling in my chest. I pretended to ponder for a moment, even though I already knew my answer.

“Okay but I don’t...I don’t think I should tell Lia.”

“Why’s that?”

“She kinda hates you.”

He looked taken aback, “Might I ask why?”

I sighed, crossing my arms, “Don’t worry about it. So where is this party?”

He filled me in on the details and I did my best to keep up my neutral façade. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was ecstatic to see him outside of campus, my will of staying away from him faltering by the minute.

I stood in front of my closet for what seemed like hours, desperately trying to find something that would match the occasion. I laughed a bit to myself as I looked at the section of black clothes I had. I went through a bit of an emo phase in middle school and I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of them. I debated avoiding black clothes all together, but the words of Yeosang rang in my head and I bit the inside of my cheek.

Fine. I’ll change it up. But I’ll be damned if I give up on pink.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a light pink leather skirt reaching mid-thigh with black fishnets. I put on a black leather jacket over my black see through shirt exposing my lacy bra underneath, my pink shoes on last.

I took several deep breaths and observed myself in the mirror. It was a change, definitely. I didn’t mind black, but I wouldn’t wear just black alone. I wanted it to be more feminine.

I heard a car horn outside my apartment much sooner than I expected. Bracing for Hongjoong’s reaction, I stepped outside. I was greeted with a smug smile, the man adorning it seeming as confident as a god until he observed my clothes, his eyebrows raising.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned over me, taking in my abrupt fashion change, “I still wasn’t entirely certain you’d go. Much less looking like this.”

My lips quirked into half-smile, “Well I can’t show up looking like I normally do.”

“Why not?”

My heart swelled at the genuine confusion evident on his face. “Some people don’t care for the way I dress.” I took a breath and continued, “I heard you and your friends in the library.”

I forced myself to look him in the eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head as he put the pieces together, a scowl forming on his face. “You don’t have to change a goddamn thing. You look great, don’t get me wrong, but you look great in pink, too. And I’m sorry if he made you feel otherwise.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright, I actually kinda like it.”

“You definitely make it work.” He swallowed, voice lowering.

“Then maybe I should wear a bit of black more often.”

The man gave a thousand dollar smile, quirking a brow that left my panties feeling slightly damp. He motioned to the car door, “Hop in, cutie.”

A friendly string of conversation followed us as Hongjoong drove. I felt my nerves starting to dissipate, his smile I once despised now bringing me comfort. And really, he was much funnier than I had believed. I found myself laughing with him more than I had in a long time. I knew my walls were falling, but I wasn’t trying to fight it anymore.

Why the hell not? He’s kind enough, and he isn’t even close to being hard on the eyes.

The car drive was much quicker than I expected, although how quickly I was unfamiliar with my surroundings through me for a loop. The trees around us became more sporadic and the sun set quicker than what seemed normal. I fidgeted slightly, prompting Hongjoong to look over at me. He intertwined my fingers with his own and I smiled, secretly welcoming his touch.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m right here with you, okay?”

I nodded, grasping onto his hand tightly. Before I knew it, my eyes locked with the building in front of us. I took in the abandoned building in front of me, eyes widening slightly as I observed its poor condition. Large windows were shattered, vines were growing around pillars, grass peaking through what once was concrete.

“This is the most sketchy place I’ve ever seen in my life.” I spoke, feeling slightly alarmed by the building but comforted by Hongjoong’s presence.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“I literally just saw a rat run out a broken window.”

Hongjoong suppressed a smile and let go of my hand, opening his car door and telling me to stay in place as he walked around and opened the door on my side. I hesitated as I exited the car, a bit afraid of what could possibly be inside the building.

“We can leave at anytime. If you don’t want to go in we can leave right now. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

As sweet as he was being, I felt the need to prove to him that I was brave enough to enter, even if it did look like he was leading me to my death.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. We can go in.”

He smiled, leading me to an out-of-the-way entrance which seemed to lead to a different building entirely. I gave an involuntary “woah” as we entered the building. As horrific as it looked on the outside, it was gorgeous on the inside. Perfectly up kept brick walls hugged the sides of the building, lights were strung from the ceiling, arcade machines and dart boards were huddled in a corner, and of course, there was a bar with a seemingly unlimited amount of liquor. People were scattered all throughout, socializing and being generally loud. Everyone wore about the same color clothes as Hongjoong, dark as they could possibly get.

“How did you even find this place?”

“My friend Yeosang and I were just driving around and we found it one day. Decided to make it our hangout spot.”

I looked at him confused, still amazed at my surroundings. Hongjoong led me over to his familiar group of friends, assuring me that they wouldn’t bite, and introduced me to the seven men, four of which I hadn’t seen prior. I saw the color drain from a few of their faces as they saw me, likely from their words in the library, but I didn’t comment on it. Overall, they were much friendlier than I expected them to be.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Hongjoong nudged me, “You want anything?”

“No that’s okay. I think I’m gonna check out the pinball machines. They look kinda cool.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay by my side? I won’t take long.”

I shook my head, “I’ll be okay.”

He chucked, “Alright. I’ll grab a drink and I’ll head right over, princess.”

I bit my lip at the nickname and wandered over to the machines, surprisingly feeling comfortable in the environment, despite everything being so unfamiliar. All of the games were being used, some people clearly playing better than others.

I got lost in the artwork on the side of a particular pinball machine when a gruff voice caught my attention. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

I turned to meet a tall man with grey hair. He was young, likely in his mid-twenties, and reeked of cigarettes and a foul smell I couldn’t place.

A flash of fear ran through me and I tried to make my voice as confident as possible, “I was invited.”

“Well...that’s certainly a shame now, isn’t it? I wasn’t invited, but I decided to show up for a bit of fun anyway.”

He came closer to me, our height difference incredibly prominent as he leaned over me, “How about you give me a kiss, little thing?” I ran away as soon as the words left his mouth, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me but assuming he would. I dashed around quickly and sporadically around people, hoping I would lose him.

I looked around desperately for Hongjoong, sighing when I found him surrounded by his friends, laughing at something one of them said. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, gaining his attention.

I hope this fucking works.

“I need you to kiss me.”

A look of confusion flashed in his eyes, “What?”

“Please kiss me.” I begged, eyes wide, disregarding the stares of his friends around us, hoping that if the man saw I was taken he’d leave me alone.

Without hesitation he wrapped his free hand around my waist—a cup of alcohol still in the other—and pulled me close, pressing his lips to my own. He kissed me hard, biting my bottom lip slightly and letting out a growl only I could hear. He wasn’t my first kiss, far from it, but no one had ever kissed me like he did. Just a kiss had never left me feeling weak at the knees. Just a kiss had ever made me feel so submissive, making me want to beg him to take me right on the spot, regardless of the fear in my veins. Even with the taste of alcohol still on his lips, his scent overtook me.

He pulled back, eyes darker than before, and raised a brow, “Care to tell me what that was about?”

Just then I realized my hands had been gripping his leather coat, pulling him just as close as he was pulling me. I looked over in the direction of where the man was before, not seeing him.

“A man was following me and he was trying to get me to kiss him a-and I didn’t know him...I just wanted him to leave me alone.”

His eyes narrowed at my words, a rage I hadn’t seen before taking over them, “What did he look like?”

“I-I don’t know he was tall and had grey hair and-”

He cursed under his breath. Keeping me just as close he turned to the men around him, their eyes narrowed as well.

“You heard that?” He asked his friends.

“Loud and clear.” San said, cracking his knuckles, a scowl on his face that scared me, even though I knew I wasn’t the one it was directed at.

“I thought we told him to never come back here.” Jongho snarled.

“We did.” Hongjoong said.

Seonghwa looked at me, nodding to Hongjoong, “Keep her safe and take her out of here. If he’s here I’m sure he’s brought friends. Yeosang, lead everyone out. We’ll take care of him.”

Hongjoong looked conflicted, obviously wanting to stay and fight, but gave into the older man’s command. “Be fucking safe,” he barked, but I could see the fear in his eyes as he looked at me, “Come on, we’re going.”

Seonghwa mumbled something to Hongjoong and he nodded in response, tossing his alcohol to the ground. I didn’t have time to ask questions as he led me out a back door, the darkness of the night equally horrifying and comforting, and quickly pushed me into his car, apologizing the entire time. He entered the key into the ignition and the car sprung to life.

“Uhh...maybe it’s not a good idea for you to drive. You’ve been drinking, right?”

“I had maybe two sips. I’ll drive safe, promise.”He gave me a small comforting smile, “Put your seatbelt on. Hold on tight, sweetheart.” His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. I nodded and did as he said, bracing as his car sped off, my heart beating in overtime.

The ride was a blur, the only things I could remember being Hongjoong’s calming voice, periodically reassuring me that things would be okay. We arrived at a foreign building which Hongjoong called his house, and only then did I let myself fall apart. I felt tears streaming down my face as my hands quivered, my head beginning to pound.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.” My teary eyes met his and I felt my heart break at the way he was looking at me, as if he had made me cry himself.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

My tears slowed as he carefully led me inside his house, sitting me down on his bed. He crouched down in front of me, wiping the tears from my face.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I didn’t realize he was going to be there. I never should’ve made you come along I’m so-”

“Who was that?”

Hongjoong sighed, “He used to be a friend of mine. We had a falling out and he became violent. One time he showed up at one of our parties with some friends of his to start a fight. We won and told him to never come back. Looks like he did.” He looked off into nowhere, regret clear on his face.

“You didn’t know,” I sniffled, “You couldn’t have known.”

I watched the muscles in his jaw tighten, his agitation still visible. I brought a hand out to reach his own, trying to comfort him. The loud ding of Hongjoong’s phone made me jump and he apologized profusely. As he took out his phone from his pants pocket I looked around his room for the first time. It looked exactly as I had expected, solid black furniture and so many band posters decorating the wall I could hardly tell what color his bedroom walls were.

Hongjoong spoke up, “I just got a text from Seonghwa. There were two other people there with him. My friends took care of them don’t worry, you’re safe.”

I nodded, pulling him into a hug and burying my face into his chest. “If you’re comfortable with it,” He started, “I’d like you to stay here. I want to know you’re safe.”

My eyes met his as he moved a hair out of my face, “I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want to I understand.”

A hand of his ran up and down my back, tracing little patterns here and there, and I realized just how much I wanted to be with him.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay.”

He laughed, “What do you mean ‘if it’s alright with you’ I asked.”

I bit my bottom lip and looked down, a bit embarrassed.

Hongjoong laughed, “Hey, look at me.” He said in a commanding yet sweet tone that made my thighs press together. I glanced back up at him, his handsome features making me feel dizzy.

He chuckled, “What’s that look for? You got something to say to me?”

I hesitated, “Actually, I do have a question.”

“Which is?”

“Why did you chase after me?”

Hongjoong smiled, “You never gave a reaction to anything I tried. It confused me and piqued my curiosity. So I began to watch you and how you interacted with people. You’re gentle and sweet. You’re innocent and haven’t let the world tear you down. I admire that.”

He leaned closer to me, his lips brushing my ear, “And it turned me on beyond belief. I wondered how I could ruin you, thought about how I could turn you into a quivering mess as you beg for me.”

I shivered and pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. His beautiful, dark eyes. Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle as he sat on his bed, lifting me on his lap. He gave an eyebrow raise and a crooked smile as my breath hitched while looking at him, taking him in.

How did I never notice how his dark hair falls to one side when he cocks his head and how he looks so endearing when it happens? How did I never pay attention to his soft pink lips that give way to his gorgeous smile and how much I’ve been dying to kiss them all this time? How did I not see the way his eyes form crescents when he smiles, making my heart grow ten times over?

Why did I never think to take note of how his deep voice makes my stomach do somersaults? Why was I so unaware of his tongue piercing that was leaving me wonder how it would feel on my skin? Why didn’t I observe the black painted nails of his that were currently dancing along my thighs, giving me goosebumps?

How and why did I never notice him?

“You’re such a good girl.”

And for the first time around him, I flushed.

He chuckled, “Oh? You like that?”

I nodded quickly and he said it again, smiling as my face heated up once more.

“It’s so good to see you react to what I say. I wonder...” Hongjoong leaned closer to me, ��How will you react when you’re underneath me? Squirming and begging for me to touch you?”

I gave him a look of desperation and balled his shirt into my fist, trying to move him closer, “Please.”

Hongjoong lifted me off of him, quickly discarding my clothes followed by his own shirt. My eyes were guided down by his abs and I ran a hand across them without thinking, whimpering quietly.

“Is my baby girl getting needy?” He cooed.

I closed my eyes, once again nodding in embarrassment.

“How about we take care of that?”

He laid me down on the soft sheets of his bed, leaving me in anticipation as he pinned my hands above my head with a hand of his own. My eyes widened and he chuckled, running a single finger along my folds.

“You’re so unbelievably fucking wet...do I turn you on that much?”

I let out a small “yes” and he hummed in response. Placing a few kisses upon my lips, Hongjoong slowly entered two fingers into me and my back arched. His fingers curled, hitting a spot inside of me that’d I’d never been able to reach. I spread my legs as far as they could go, pleading for more, feeling tears prick my eyes.

Hongjoong spoke, his voice already dropping several octaves, “Keep your hands here, understand? I don’t want you moving them.”

I nodded, willing my hands to stay in place as his own moved to my hips, leaving kisses along my inner thighs.

“Hongjoong please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Please touch me.”

“Oh, I think I can do better than that, don’t you?”

His lips attached to my core, tongue running through my folds and nose hitting my clit as I moaned pathetically. His hands held my hips down as I tried to buck them up, barely able to keep my hands above my head. After what felt like years, his mouth finally reached my clit and I cried out as his lips attached to it, sucking hard and leaving kitten licks. My high built up quickly and I came hard, my hands leaving their spot and pulling slightly on his hair.

“Thought I told you to keep your hands above your head, no?”

I mumbled an apology and he leaned over to kiss me, “You’re forgiven, darling.”

He seemed just as impatient as I was and without much begging the rest of his clothes were off, his dick teasing my entrance.

“God Hongjoong please I need you so bad.”

“I need you too, y/n.”

He fully entered me, cursing as he did so. I was so caught up in the feeling of him inside of me that I didn’t even register him asking me a question until he laughed at me.

“Feeling good, baby? Can’t even speak?”

I whimpered, nodding seeming to be the only thing I could manage to do. I felt his member twitch inside of me and I pleaded for him to fuck me, to give me anything. Hongjoong growled and jerked his hips up into me over and over, leaving me a moaning mess.

“Taking me so well, aren’t you? Such a good girl for me.”

The amount of praise he gave me caused a few tears to fall from my eyes, not realizing how bad I needed it until that moment. My walls clenched around him every time, causing him to groan and snap his hips into me even harder. Hongjoong’s eyes grew hazy, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’m close, darling. Be my good girl and cum for me”

His hand trailed down to my clit, rubbing tiny circles. My back arched as I came in time with him, our breaths synchronizing as we gasped for air.

He slowly pulled out of me and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel, cleaning me up. Hongjoong giggled and I raised a brow at him.

“I never thought you’d give me a chance. It’s almost like I’ve corrupted you.”

“You have. Aren’t you aware of the party I went to because of you? I almost died.”

Hongjoong laughed as he crawled into bed and pulled blankets over the both of us. He ran a hand through my hair, looking at me fondly, “You did not almost die.”

“Okay yeah but I could have. That’s what we should be focusing on here.”

“I think there’s something else I’d like to focus on.”

Hongjoong pulled me into a deep kiss, hand slithering down to my waist. His kisses trailed to my ear, a slight chuckle leaving his lips, “My pretty princess.”

I looked at him with doe eyes, slightly in awe of him, and wondered how I could’ve pushed him away for so long. I knew for certain that I had no intention of doing so ever again.

When I told him he smiled, “Good. You’ve had a grip on my heart since day one. I’d be a fool to let you get away from me.”

I blushed slightly, much to his entertainment. We snuggled up to each other in silence, listening to the sound of our synchronized breathing as I lulled to sleep, our warm fingers intertwined. My dreams filled of him.

“Sleep well, my princess. I’ll be right here when you wake.”

137 notes · View notes

snwscript · 3 years

Text

pivot point || hyunjin.

pairing: guard!hyunjin x princess!reader.

genre: historic au, strangers to lovers au.

themes: fluff + a bit of angst i guess??

word count: 7.6k

summary: when the task of picking the newest royal guard comes to you, the princess, it isn’t difficult to choose. one applicant, with charming looks and an interesting hobby, catches your eye and attention. maybe he might find himself shooting arrows into something other than targets?

tw: this contains a female lead, and terms such as princess. also, some things might not be fully accurate to how things worked in historical times, but i really tried to research as much as I could.

a/n: i miss him w blonde hair but whateva it’s fine (〃ノ∇ノ) also prince minho is not minho from skz !!!! oh and if a word is underlined, it’s a song you can listen to to feel more in the fic :]

masterlist.

As you were the princess of one of the most well-know palaces, a lot of weight was put on your shoulders. The thought of being next in line to the throne, along with the absolutely tiring schoolwork and boring schedules always filled your head as you waited for the next day to roll around.

It sometimes felt like you were forced into that life. But your head always perked up when you were asked first about a decision.

“Y/N, darling.” Your mother called your name as she sat at the dinner table.

“Yes Mother?” Making your way to the dining room from the living room, you rested your arms on the chair in front of your mom. You looked at her, eyebrows furrowing as you questioned her sudden ask of your presence.

She started with a sigh and you could tell she was stressed, her hand sparkling with accessories holding close to her head. Her eyes looked up from the papers in her other hand and to you. “Oh, there you are. I need your help with something.”

Your ears perked up as you looked away from her shining decorations and nodded. “Okay, what is it?” You leaned in to look at the paper that was in her hand. It had different names written on it, next to them were their skills.

But when did Mom get the time to do this?

“Well, we’re trying to get a new royal guard since one had to step out due to a finding of their criminal record, remember?” She queried, looking up at you from the paper.

Whipping away from your thoughts, you nodded. “Yeah, I do. But why so sudden? I’m pretty sure we don’t have to get a new guard.. we had enough already.” You said with a soft sigh. Your palace had originally had more than ten guards but due to the hardships the job gave, they had resigned. Now you only had five

“Y/N,” your mother stopped you, “we’ve talked about this. You know that your coronation is coming and when that day comes, you know how the crime rate will be.” There she goes again, talking about your coronation. “I would hate to have you suffer like your grandfather on his crowning.”

Her statement was blunt but it made sense to you. You made a small frown and nodded. “Yes Mother.” You took the papers out of her hand and made your way out of the dining room.

Your mom could tell you were upset about the conversation so in a small cheer she said, “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Your response short as you walked out of the dining room and back to your room.

On your way, your friendly chef Felix smiled at you, walking past saying, “Good morning, Your Highness.” You did a small head bow, but deeply wondered why he was being so formal. He wasn’t that much older than you, and he normally talked to you on friendly terms. Shaking the thought away, you continued back to your room.

But just like with Felix, whenever you would see one of the kind workers throughout the palace on the way to your room, they would always greet you with polite nonsense like: “Good day, Your Highness,” “Hello, Your Highness,” and “Wonderful weather we’re having, Your Highness!” It only broke you when you saw your older brother Seungmin reply, “Hey, Your Highness.” It was still in his joking tone but it was so chilling that you had to get out of there.

You ran out of the palace as a whole and decided to chill by the pool.

Sighing to yourself, you looked at the pool and tried to calm yourself. You were deeply confused why they had all responded like that. You weren’t even close to becoming the queen. You had thought it was all too much for you, like all of a sudden you were an adult. But it didn’t feel like it.

“What’s wrong, your Highness?” Chan said after seeing your distressed manner as you sat on the steps.

“Oh god, not you too Chan!” You buried your face in your hands.

He laughed heartily and soon went to sit down next to you. “Sorry, it was Seungmin. He asked me to say that to you since I was in debt to him for a while.” Looking over to you, Chan saw your sad expression.

He didn’t say anything for a while, his thoughts calculating as he thought of what to say to you. “You know, I probably have no say in this but the whole crowning doesn’t seem too bad.”

Your head whipped around to him. Confusion furrowing your eyebrows caused you to respond, “How can you say that? Everyone’s been treating me like I’m the Queen already..”

Chan laughed a bit, but not as happy as his last. It contained remorse for you. “Well I can tell you as a royal guard that they’re only doing this to get you ready for another year.” His statement softened to a whisper and covered his mouth near the more important end of his sentence.

Letting out a chuckle of unbelief, you crossed your arms. “How could they- Never mind that.” You stopped yourself before sighing and then looking at Chan. “Thanks for telling me, Chan. I swear, you’re one of the only guards I can trust.” You said jokingly, a soft smile making its way onto your lips.

A smile creeped up on his face too, showing his pure pleasure in seeing you smile again. “No problem, your Highness.” Chan finally said with a fake bow.

“Oh, stop it.” You slapped his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stop embarrassing you any further.

Chan laughed again, his serotonin boosting laugh making you laugh with him. With another smile and a two-finger salute, he said, “Alright, duty calls. See you later, Y/N!” He dashed off and started to make his way back into the palace.

“Ok, bye!” But by the time you responded, he was already gone.

He had always been so good to you. Always doing his best to make you feel better. Still, he had no real idea what you truly felt.

...

After a while of laying on your bed while reading a book, you looked at your nightstand. Those terrible papers seemed to look right back at you. With a sigh, you decided to take the time to look at the papers your mother had given to you that morning.

The candidates were.. okay. Your mind was still frazzled from the day’s events and soon after 15 minutes of looking, you came to the last page. You had skimmed over his credentials but when you came across his hobbies, you found yourself leaning into the paper.

Hobbies: reading, singing, & archery.

A-Archery? Were you reading it right? No matter how many times you read it, it still read the same thing. You had heard about it before, when your mother and father had left to go to a match with friends from another kingdom. It had always made you wonder what it was like, and seeing a candidate with that as a hobby made you feel inclined to approve his submission.

No photos or further reading needed, you put a check next to his name and went to put it in your parents’ room.

On your way back to yours, you were stopped by Seungmin. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and his right leg crossed over the other. You shrugged, wordlessly saying, “What do you want?”

“Was that the guard slip?” He soon asked, a chuckle coming with the end of his question.

With a nod you replied, “Yep. Hopefully Mom doesn’t scold me for who I chose.” You continued to walk to bed with the words, “It was the archer, by the way,” leaving your lips. You had known Seungmin had seen the papers before they were given to you, so of course he had asked.

Seungmin’s small giggle turned into a happy laugh, but you couldn’t tell what for. A wave of relief came upon you as he called, “You’re so predictable. I knew you’d pick that one!”

You walked to your room that night to your older brother’s laughs echoing in the main hall.

It had been about two weeks since you had made the final mark on those papers but fortunately, your mother hadn’t said anything about it. Today was the day you were going to greet what seemed in your mind as the kind archer fellow. You were somewhat nervous, for reasons you knew.

As you got ready in your room to finally meet the archer, a soft sigh escaped you. Was it the right choice? Sure, knowing how to do archery was unique but you barely looked at any more of his credentials, so it made it hard to truly know him. You chose to shake the thought off for now and make your way to the front of the palace.

...

“I can’t wait to see who you chose!” Your mother said with happiness in her tone, hands clasped in excitement. She looked over to you, and was concerned as to why you were so quiet. “Something the matter?” She asked.

Your single head shake was enough for a response and your eyes kept looking out for the carriage the guard would come in. If you had to be honest, you just wanted to see what this guy looked like.

And just as you would have it, the clopping of the carriage came along the cobblestone. You felt your heart race as you heard the gates open for his arrival. And there he was, walking up to your family politely with his hands behind his back.

His appearance though, was much more ethereal. Eyes of a dark brown color and long hair that you didn’t see often, all while wearing a soft smile. His clothes were both sleek and looked comfortable. You could tell you were staring for too long so you decided to get your eyes off him with a small head bow. In response, he did the same.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hope I can serve you well.” He said, his soft voice causing you to look up with a kind smile.

Your father held out a hand for the boy to shake and replied, “Of course. We’re happy to have you..?” His reply became more of a prompt for his name.

“Ah, Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin.” He replied happily as he took your father’s hand and shook it. His soft smile had become an eager one, as if he was really excited for his new job. The boy who was apparently named Hyunjin looked from your father to you and did a small head bow to you. “Nice to meet you, Princess. Hopefully we can be friends.” His expression softened. “And hopefully I can serve you well.” He continued, his eyes crinkling as his smile widened.

“Of course, same to you.” You replied, voice soft after being out of focus. From the start, you knew that he was kind but the fact he even acknowledged you kindly made you smile.

Your mother broke up your kind exchange by cutting in, “Well now that introductions are over, we can get you inside and talk a bit more. It’s a bit humid out here.” A posh laugh came with her statement as Hyunjin mouthed “Of course” and you all went into the palace.

After two of your other guards opened the palaces’ doors, you could hear a gasp come from Hyunjin. He soon exclaimed, “Wow.. this place is huge..,” voice drifting at the end of his sentence. He seemed like an excited puppy, eager to look more around the place. To get his attention, you let out in a small whisper, “Excuse me, it’s this way!”

He turned around and covered his mouth, obviously embarrassed. “Sorry!” His voice low in a whisper to match yours.

You and Hyunjin soon caught up with your family in the drawing room, both acting like you had been there instead of staying behind in the great hall. Almost on queue, your father turned to you with a smile. “Ah yes, now that we’re here, we can talk more on the agreement.” Your father’s tone was soft but still had the power of a king.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Hyunjin said, eyes burning with confidence.

Your mother smiled. “Then let’s get to it!” She said, taking out some more papers, probably for him to sign.

...

Though it took what felt like a few hours, Hyunjin was ready to take the oath. What you noticed during the long talk and signing was that he was very active. Your mom mumbled a few things he had done to get to where he was now, including training for a year and a half at a camp. It seemed like he desperately wanted to get away from his normal life and land a better job at the palace, though it was harder than most. It made you wonder..

Your thoughts were taken to a pause as your father said, “Alright, now that you’re done signing, you can take the oath.”

Hyunjin nodded as his smiling face was replaced with a serious one. When you looked down at his hands, you saw his left closed in a tight fist. It soon loosened as he rose his right hand like your father told him to not long after.

“Repeat after me,” your father said firmly, his right hand raised as well, “I, Hwang Hyunjin, do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to the Royal Family, their heirs and successors, according to law.”

He soon repeated before taking a deep breath, “I, Hwang Hyunjin, do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to the Royal Family, their heirs and successors, according to law.” His hard expression soon softened when he earned an accepting nod from the king.

“And now, you’re officially a part of the royal guard.” Your father cheered, a raised curve you knew was a smile coming to his face. Though he didn’t show it much, you could always tell the difference between his capitalist smile and his genuine one. Hyunjin seemed to know too, as he brought him in for a hug.

“Wow, thank you so much for this opportunity!” He let go and then shook the king’s hand. “I promise I won’t let you down.” He said in a voice filled with gratitude. The king let out a hearty laugh at Hyunjin’s peppy attitude and nodded.

“Happy to know you’re excited.” He soon said. Your mother’s mouth turned into a smile, soon turning to you with a brighter one. The pleasant feeling in the room made you smile back.

Hyunjin looked to you and remarked with an assuring smile, “I’ll protect you for real, now.” His statement made you burst laughing, still more calm than your normal laugh as to not expose yourself. “I know you’ll do well, Hyunjin.” You replied.

“Thank you, princess.”

You woke up the next morning to the sun coming through the window. Surprisingly, none of the maids or butlers was there to escort you out of your room. Making your way down the stairs and then the long hallway, you started to make your way to the kitchen to start to make breakfast yourself.

You usually weren’t allowed to when your parents weren’t around because they entrusted the chefs to cook every meal. Though you didn’t mind them cooking for you, you always like to cook by yourself. Unfortunately, the kind chef Felix walked in as you took out some flour.

“Ah, your Highness.” He did a small head bow with his bright smile. His formal behavior made you a bit uncomfortable. “Good morning.”

You still mustered a smile. “Good morning, Felix. It’s good to see you.” Your statement was true despite you knowing he would be making breakfast for you.

“Y/N, don’t worry. I’ll let you make breakfast for yourself. You always look so eager when you see me cooking anyway.” Felix let out in a chuckle. His laughter brought a happier smile to your face.

“Thank you, Felix.” You replied while bringing him in for a hug. He happily hugged you back, his warm hug made you smile.

You decide to ask him, “Hey, why do you keep calling me “Your Highness”? Have we drifted?” Your tone was soft, and Felix responded with a shaking of his head.

“No, of course not Y/N! It’s just.. the king and queen have been wanting to prepare you for the life you’re going to have in a couple years. So I’ve been listening to their wishes. But don’t worry,” Felix let go of you and held you by your shoulders, looking at you with caring eyes, “we’re still friends.” His bright smile reached his eyes.

“Well that’s good! I got a little worried.” You replied with a laugh.

After clearing up the situation, you started to make your breakfast, every now and then having Felix help you. Who would’ve known that making french toast and fluffy eggs would be harder than you thought?

...

The happy feeling you had soon drifted with your parents came back home. You had prepared yourself for this, but you really hadn’t wanted to.

As they walked in, they appeared with your “destined prince,” as your mom called him when you were a kid. You made eye contact with him immediately as a rush of a hurt came through you.

Prince Minho of the Cha family, the future husband of your dreams. (but was he?)

It wasn’t like you hated Minho, he was fine. Charming looks, a great personality. He even loved animals and had 2 dogs of his own. You just weren’t ready yet. But though you wanted to, you couldn’t tell him. If you had known sooner that the marriage decision had been made when you were kids, you would’ve declined already.

Minho walked up to you with a soft smile. “My darling Y/N. I haven’t seen you in ages.” You smiled shyly at his pet name. “You still look as cute as ever.” His eyes stared into yours longingly.

“It’s good to see you too, Minho.” You took his hands and nodded. Still, you couldn’t shake the sorry feeling in your chest. It felt like you were playing with him.

Your mother interrupted your soft exchange with a clearing of her throat. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get moving to the ballroom. You two,” she said pointing at you and Minho, “need to practice dancing together.”

Minho smiled at your parents and then at you. “Don’t worry. I won’t step on your feet.” You chuckled at his joke and made your way to the ballroom.

...

When you got there, you saw Hyunjin from the other side of the ballroom standing against the wall with his hands behind his back. He smiled to you as a soft greeting and you smiled back as a reply.

“Hyunjin,” your mother called to him, “do you mind turning on the gramophone and putting on the record for me?”

The smiling guard nodded, “Of course, your Highness.” He walked over to the gramophone that was on the coffee table and put in the record. After glancing at you and Minho for a second, he went back to the wall he was at before.

The music from the gramophone was somber, a soft piano piece. You had heard it many times when you were younger. It brought back memories and a soft smile to your face.

You slowly waltzed with Minho, hands interlocked. Minho kept eye contact with you, his eyes sparkling happily. You traveled along the room with him, careful with each step as the music flowed. The song came to an end as Minho took your hand and kissed it.

“You danced wonderfully, Y/N.” He said with a soft tone.

Your smile toward Minho was sincere, you nodded happily. “Thank you, Minho. You didn’t do half bad either.” You joked.

He let out a little chuckle and linked arms with you. Making eye contact with your mother, he asked, “Do you mind if I have lunch with her, my lady?”

“No, of course not,” she shook her head with a smile, “I don’t mind at all. We wanted you to have lunch together, anyways.”

“Thank you.” Minho looked at you once again and started to walk out of the ballroom.

You looked back to Hyunjin who stood there with a smile you couldn’t quite place. You gave him a quick beam, making him nod to cheer you up. Before you could mouth “thank you”, Minho walked out of the door with his princely smile and you.

“I don’t get you sometimes.” Seungmin shook his head at you, arms crossed.

“What do you mean?” You replied innocently. Clearly, judging by the look on your brother’s face, he was talking about your boring lunch with Minho.

Seungmin sighed; it was full of annoyance. “You know exactly what I mean!”

You still pretended to be curious as to what he meant so you shrugged.

“Why did you come from lunch with Minho so.. normal? Usually when people have a meeting with someone they really like, they can’t think of anything else but that person. But you.. you seem fine! Almost too fine.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “Do you really not feel that way for him?” He finally asked.

You looked up into Seungmin’s eyes. You couldn’t find it in yourself to lie to him. “I-I’m just not ready yet.” You replied, your voice soft. “I thought you knew that.”

“I do know. I’m not mad at you, I just don’t get you. This is a big opportunity and Mom’s gonna be upset with you, I’m just telling you now.” Your older brother replied.

“I know she is.. Minho’s a good guy, it’s just I don’t think I could marry him, or anyone for that matter. Not right now, anyway.”

Seungmin let out a sigh again. He was done nudging an answer out if you. “Alright, just don’t be so indecisive for too long. It’s all in your hands.” He began to walk out of the room but stopped himself. “Remember that you have to talk with Mom at 3, okay?” His smile was soft as he continued to walk.

You watched him walk out of the room, leaving you at the table. You grunted softly and put your hands over your eyes. I need to get some fresh air.. your thoughts festered.

...

Again, you found yourself outside by the pool as a way to calm down. You had understood what Seungmin meant and that he was just looking out for you, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it..

“Do you really not feel that way for him?”

You tried to shake off the feeling by continuing to look into the pool and soon threw water towards your face. When you went for another splash to wake yourself up, you heard someone walk up to where you sat and soon the voice that belonged to it:

“I hate to be interrupting something but are you okay, Your Highness?” It was Hyunjin. You looked up at him with your chlorine drenched face and smiled.

“Yeah, I’m fine! No need to worry!” You replied with a small laugh. “Just trying to calm my nerves..” Looking up at him again, you saw his hand holding out a handkerchief.

Hyunjin smiled. “Here. I think you need it.” He chuckled.

You were surprised at his kindness and took the handkerchief, a soft smile coming to your face. “Thank you.” Taking his hand to get up, you met eyes with him. Something about seeing him so close made you feel kind of nervous, even though you weren’t the one with the new job. Still, he made you feel comfortable. Hyunjin was doing his job as a guard right.

Hyunjin tried to break the silence. “So, care to explain what you’re doing out here?” He asked curiously.

“Well,” you started, “I usually come here to calm myself down. Seeing the water settles me.”

“Oh, I see..” He didn’t want to pry on what could have been messing with your emotions and decided to try and keep conversation. “Whenever I get stressed, I like to go out and shoot some arrows. It feels good to just shoot without the worry of doing wrong.”

You looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed, as you asked, “So then, what do you do? Do you just.. shoot?”

Hyunjin laughed at your question, his smile reaching his eyes. “Yeah, pretty much! Of course, still with the skills I’ve learned. I just try not to be fancy with it.”

“Okay.. I think I get it.” You replied to him, your voice drifting in volume. “Do you mind showing me some of the “fancy work,” mayhaps?” You looked up at him with a small smirk.

“If the Princess allows it.” Hyunjin replied; your nodding seemed to be a yes. “Alright then, let’s go to the fields. The King let me set up some materials over there.”

After walking to the fields, your eyes widened when you saw the archery setting. Bows and arrows on their own table, targets set at different ranges. It was like you had heard of before from Chan. You were excited to see how it really looked in person; seeing archery was different than hearing about it.

Hyunjin bent down to pick up one of the bows and an arrow from the table. He looked back at you and smiled. “I’ll shoot to the second nearest one so you can see it.” His voice lifted near the end of his sentence and his smile matched his happy tone. As he adjusted his form, he took a deep breath. He lifted the bow and arrow and closed his right eye, trying to get the best shot. You watched his smile turn into a serious straight face as he got a confident glint in his eye. Hyunjin soon released the arrow and watched it hit the target he had been aiming for.

“Wait a second,” you said, looking at the target, “you got it straight in the middle!”

He nodded and held the bow in his hands. “It’s like I told you! I still use the skills I’ve learned.” Hyunjin smiled at you again and handed you the bow.

“What is it? Why are you giving me-“ He stopped your question and put an arrow in your free hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m just gonna help you.” His voice was soft as he adjusted your hand placement and your angle. You ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks, but you were thankful for his help.

“Okay,” Hyunjin continued, “now close your right eye, since that’s the hand you’ll be shooting with.” You listened to his words and closed your eye. “Now just hold back your right arm. Only shoot when you’re ready.” You strengthened your grip and almost forgot that Hyunjin was there. Straightening your gaze like he had done before, you finally let go of the arrow. Your eyes closed immediately as you did.

Your worries wavered away as you heard Hyunjin’s laugh. “You did good for your first try! Come on, open your eyes and look. I promise you actually got a hit on the target.” As you opened your eyes, you saw the target with the arrow on the third ring. You looked at him and smiled.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he chuckled, “The third ring is good enough.”

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” You replied. His laugh made you laugh along with him. “I’m surprised that you even wanted to show me! So thank you very much for the lesson.”

He shook his hands around in a sporadic manner. “Don’t worry, it’s not a problem.”

You could tell that he really was happy to teach you and that his smile was genuine. A rush of shock ran over you as you realized how late it was. “Oh no... I totally forgot that I had to meet with my mom today.” Your eyes were sorry as you said, “Please forgive me for leaving so suddenly, I have a meeting and I can’t stay too long. I’m really sorry, Hyunjin.” You did a head bow as an apology.

“Please don’t bow to me, Princess Y/N! If you need to leave, it’s okay. Feel free to go! I-I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer.” Hyunjin’s words were a jumble, he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to say to you. Especially after your politeness towards him.

You giggled a bit at his flustered behavior. “Alright, see you later! Thanks again for the archery lesson!”

Hyunjin watched as you dashed off into the distance, probably going to the castle. There was a pleasant feeling in his chest. He was glad that he could have a good time with even a Princess. But he couldn’t figure out what it was about you that made him smile so much to himself... was it your attitude? Your kindness? Maybe he was thinking too much about it.

“Oh hey Hyunjin!” A familiar voice greeted him. Hyunjin turned around and saw Chan standing there with his bright smile. “What are you doing out here? Doing some archery?” Chan referred to the setup in front of them.

“Yeah! I even got to give Princess Y/N a small lesson. With her permission, of course.” Hyunjin replied.

Chan was intrigued as his mouth formed a small ‘o’. “Oh, I see. That’s good, I’m glad she’s trying new things.” He smiled again.

Hyunjin nodded happily. He glanced to the table that had the bows and arrows on them and noticed there were only two bows instead of the three that were there before. “Oh, I guess she accidentally took one of the bows with her. She was kind of in a rush.”

“That makes sense. She doesn’t like to make the Queen upset over simple things like being late.” Chan patted Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry too much, she’ll probably be able to give it to you later.”

“Yeah..” He started to walk with Chan back into the castle.

“Hey,” Chan said quickly, “Do you think I could learn some archery skills from you, too? I can teach you how to handle and fight with a sword in exchange.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Sure, I’ve been needing to get better at that, anyway.”

...

You had met with your mother that day to talk about the harvest festival taking place in a few days. It was the pride of your kingdom; the small amount of time that most ‘regulars’ could come into the castle to join in games, music, and dancing. You looked across the table at your mother with confusion in your brows when she told you that you were going to be greeting people for most of the festival.

“What? What do you mean? That’s what you and Father usually do.” You retorted.

Your mother sighed. “Yes, I know. It’s different but it’s okay! Instead of us, it’ll be you and Minho. That’s why you two are doing the ending dance instead of your father and I. And then you can take the prized crown alongside Minho.”

You found her smile too pleasant. It made you feel betrayed that she would tell you so early, as if she knew you would’ve tried to leave. “But.. why didn’t you tell me earlier? I’m still just a young princess, you know.”

“Don’t play that game with me. Why else would I have you practice with Minho beforehand? Be reasonable and stop arguing with your mother.” She said plainly.

“Fine, I guess I have to do it.” Her tone made you feel overpowered, like whatever you would’ve said wouldn’t have mattered anyway. “Thank you for telling me, Mother. I hope I can greet everyone well.”

She laid a hand on your cheek and smiled at you. “That’s my girl. I’m going to pick out the best dress and accessories for you, I promise. You’ll wear the crown greatly.”

“Thank you,” you told her again before you left. All you wanted to do is get to your room, the one place you could let your emotions out. At this point, you didn’t want to go to the harvest festival at all. You jumped on the bed at stayed there for a few hours.

You hadn’t wanted to do much around the castle the next few days. Your mother and father had decided to let you do what you wanted to do; to be by yourself. Your father came to you yesterday to reassure you that you could do it, just for one night.

Though you didn’t respond at all, you remember him talking about sudden threats that had come around every harvest festival. All he wanted was for you to be safe, and he knew that throwing you into it was not the best decision. Your father just knew in his heart that you would do well, like he and your mother did.

You decided to get up after two sluggish days. You looked outside of the window and then at the clock. “I guess I’ll have to really do it tomorrow.” You mumbled.

Maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

...

As you sat at the mirror getting ready for the festival, you practiced your smile. You even tried different ones to change it up and give your face a rest. One of your designers laughed.

“What are you doing, Princess Y/N? You look so funny.” She said, still chuckling.

You looked back to her and retorted, “I’m practicing my smile for the festival. Father says not to look too dull.”

“Well trust me,” she laughed, “the king will be surprised and probably pleased.” You shared a smile with her but she quickly faced your head towards the mirror. “Now face forward. I need to finish your makeup in 30 minutes.”

Before you knew it, you were walking down the spiraling staircase to the main floor. You felt stiff due to the makeup and extravagant light red dress, but you had to admit that you looked good. When you got down, you saw Minho standing there in his tuxedo. It was a nice red with white accents. The red matched your own.

You smiled as you came to him, deciding to be as nice as you could to him that day. “You look so nice today. Your courters dressed you well.” You remarked.

“Thank you, Y/N. You look splendid.” Minho replied as he went for a kiss on your hand, as he usually did.

“Let’s get going, okay? The gates open in a few minutes!”

He beamed at your enthusiasm and took a tight hold on your hand. “Of course.”

...

For the past two hours at the harvest festival, you had been stuck greeting every single person who had stepped through the door. You were glad to see all of your citizens but while all of them moved on from the line and had fun, you were still stuck at the door. And to make matters worse, Minho held onto your hand like it was life or death.

All of a sudden, the music playing from the ballroom stopped. You remembered it from before.

“Now, we’ll stop the dancing for a few minutes to have a special couple dance together.” Your father’s voice was clear from the ballroom.

Minho looked at you. “I guess that’s us.” He walked with you, hand in hand, to the ballroom.

“And it’s not just any couple. It’s our very own junior fiancés!” Your mother added as you and Minho walked in. All of the citizens clapped and cheered for you, yet only you were surprised by the term ‘fiancé’.

Soon, you and Minho were the center of attention. All of everyone’s eyes were on you two. Minho tried to assure you that everything would be okay with his eyes, as if he could tell that you were worried.

You must’ve spaced out; the music started playing again. A smile came back to you as you remembered the song. You waltzed with him like you had practiced before, moving your way across the floor. Minho’s glimmering eyes showed a deep effect of love towards you. You tried your best to ignore how close he was until the end of the song.

The citizens clapped for your shared dance. You smiled, you must’ve done it well. “Guess we didn’t do too bad, huh?” You said quietly.

Minho placed a hand on your cheek and surprised you and everyone else in the ballroom; he kissed the other one. You didn’t know why he would’ve done it so passionately, it wasn’t like how you had practiced. Your feelings were unsure.

What’s going on? Is this okay? Why do I feel like this?

You pulled away after a few seconds of thinking. Backing away, you ran out with a small mumble, “I’m sorry.”

Your hands were clammy. You felt like you hadn’t drank water in days. The butterflies in your stomach seemed to only get worse. You needed to get out of there. No, you needed to get anywhere but there. Your thoughts were a giant mess as you thought of where to go. Thinking of leaving the castle was already a no, but where else could you-

“Ah!” You let out after bumping into a familiar figure in the main hall.

Hyunjin caught you. “Careful there, princess. You remember what the King and Queen said, hm?” He said, keeping your eye contact. “You should be in the ballroom.” Leaning over your shoulder to whisper those few words.

“I know. It’s just..” Steps could be heard down the hall along with your mother’s calls for you. You glanced back to him. Your thoughts ran dry, and you did the only thing you thought to do. “Kiss me.”

“Princess Y/N-“

“I said kiss me.” You didn’t know where the straightforwardness was coming from but what would happen was unexpected.

Hyunjin leaned in for a kiss on your lips and closed his eyes. You had enjoyed it as you both moved swiftly into the room next to you. He had held onto your head tightly as he continued to kiss you.

When you both let go, you smiled. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “You’re a good kisser, Guard Hwang.”

“There’s no need to call me that, Princess Y/N.” He shook his head with a smile, still a little shocked that he kissed the princess in the first place. “But I have a question.”

You looked at him with curious eyes. “What is it?” You asked.

“Why did you come sprinting down there? And I understand that it might be hard to talk about.” Hyunjin replied softly.

“Well, you remember the prince I was dancing with that day, correct?” Hyunjin nodded at your question. “Basically we did the same dance at the festival today. But Minho changed things up and kissed me on the cheek. I didn’t know what to do, I was just confused..” Your voice fell to a quieter level.

Hyunjin patted your back and sat you down on the bed in the room. “Don’t worry about him, it’s okay. He should’ve known that you wouldn’t have liked it as much as he would’ve.”

You shared a pleasant smile with Hyunjin as he continued to pat your back. You were glad that someone was there to uplift you.

The lovely feeling in the room soon disappeared when yells of “intruder” and “thief” came upon Hyunjin’s and your ears from outside the room. You looked at him worried but he shook his head.

“Stay here, okay? I’m still supposed to be on post.” Hyunjin stated.

As Hyunjin walked out of the room and down the hall, he kept a serious face. His eyes glanced around as if he could feel someone else’s presence was there. He slowly got the bow — one of the secondary ones from your small lesson — off of him and slowed his pace.

“You guys are very bad at hiding.” He mumbled. He easily could see one of the culprits hiding behind a pillar in a mirror right across. Without any hesitation, he lifted the bow and strengthened his grip on the arrow and shot for the mirror instead.

The man screamed and jumped out of the way. He started to shake on the floor. Hyunjin sighed as he walked up to the man and held him by his collar. “I’m sorry sir. I don’t care what sob story you give me, duty calls. I have to take you to the King for intruding.” He flipped the man over and stood up with him, soon grabbing his wrists from behind and placing them over each other.

“Let’s go.” Hyunjin’s tone made the guilty culprit start walking with his head down.

“You do know that it’s not just me, right?” said the man.

“Well of course. There’s never just one.” Hyunjin replied quickly.

The man sighed as if he was immediately sorry. “I’m very sorry for what might happen to the kingdom after all of this.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me,” Hyunjin said to the man, “that’s something you need to take up with the King and Queen. Just know that it’s likely that you’ll go to jail for this.”

The man was surprised at how nonchalant Hyunjin was. “Thank you for not being too rough with me.”

“Just doing my job, sir.” Hyunjin said with a small chuckle.

After a few minutes, the intruder and Hyunjin made it to the King in the ballroom. “Here, Your Highness. I’ve caught one of the intruders.”

“Thank you, Guard Hwang. I appreciate it.” The King smiled as he took the culprit to some policemen that were called to the scene. “Here’s one of them!” He called to them.

Hyunjin looked around the ballroom, recognizing the faces he had seen at his post. The citizens murmured worriedly all around. But he could tell that someone was missing.

“Your Highness,” Hyunjin called, “do you mind if I check outside? That culprit over there told me that there’s more than just him.” The king nodded. “Of course, just take another guard with you.” He motioned towards Chan. “Guard Bang, go with Guard Hwang to check outside. If there’s more intruders, just call for more.”

“Yes, Sir.” Chan grabbed his sword and shield in hand. “Alright let’s get going, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin nodded and the two went out of the castle, soon being met with the slowly setting sky. They looked all around the perimeter of the castle after deciding to split up but after they found nothing, they threw away the plan and searched together.

“Do you think anyone’s actually out here?” Hyunjin whispered to Chan softly.

Chan shrugged at his question. He wasn’t quite sure what could come from searching or not. “Usually there’s more than one when it comes to castle takeovers, so probably. But it’s hard to see with only the moon enlightening us. So try not to worry. The King won’t kill you if no one’s out here.” He tried to lighten up the mood with a chuckle.

“Okay..” Hyunjin mumbled. For a while, only the crunching of the grass under their boots could be heard. They paid close attention to their surroundings.

“S-stop right there!” A voice shouted from behind them, their voice breaking near the end of their scream. Hyunjin and Chan turned around to see the person who owned the voice: Prince Minho with a sword held in front of him. “What are you guards doing out here?”

Chan held his sword in a tight hand. “We should be asking you the same question.”

“I just wanted to get some fresh air. It was a bit congested in there.” Minho’s light laugh had a nod to something else. He had kept one hand behind his back.

“Are you sure about that?” Hyunjin spoke up. “There’s something more to what you’re saying.” His eyes stayed close to the prince’s hidden hand.

“Your Highness,” Chan started, “may I ask you to lower your sword?”

Minho’s face tightened. He didn’t expect this. “O-of course. Of course I can.” His voice shook slightly; he was terrified. He knew they knew. But still, he didn’t lay down his sword. He couldn’t. “Actually.. no. Shouldn’t you be a bit more respectful to your future king? I can do as I please.”

When Minho turned around to leave, Chan pushed his weight onto him and tried to hold him down. “Hyunjin, here!” He held out what the prince had been hiding: the crown. “Go and return it! I’ll take care of this guy.”

“Okay!” Hyunjin ran off and dashed through the castle. He held to a pause when he saw you standing there in the hall. “Princess Y/N.. I think this is yours.”

You held the crown tightly and smiled. “Thank you so much, Hyunjin. I really appreciate it.” You wanted to thank him but the confidence from before came back to you. “Hey, do you have time to dance with a princess such as myself?”

“Well, I think so. I do have to do my job as a guard and stay at my post.” He chuckled. “But of course, Princess.”

You smiled softly and took his hand to lead him into the room you were both in before. “I know the perfect song.” You soon put in the song that gave you pleasure into the gramophone.

Hyunjin took your hand gently and began to waltz with you. His smile was soft on his face as it reached his eyes. The strings in the music led you across the room. You hadn’t wanted your final dance any other way. The song calmed along with your dancing near the end.

“I feel like I’m going to cause you trouble, Princess Y/N.” Hyunjin said, his hand was tenderly clasped with yours.

“I would count it as good trouble, my archer.” You softly replied as you kissed his cheek. As Hyunjin put the crown atop your head, you both laughed. The two of you waltzed in the room for the rest of the night, the sun’s final colors setting behind you through the window.

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