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stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 2 years

Text

Prominence [WCh. 2.65]

Social Media AU ; Idol AU ; Added Unit AU CW/TW: Language Genre: Comedy, Romance Pairing: NCT x Idol!Reader, Seonghwa x Reader Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 5.0K

Notes: I originally split this chapter because it was too long and then I ended up making it longer lmaooooo so here's the once in a blue moon long chapter because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to make it shorter or how to nicely split it without breaking the pacing. Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

25 February 2022

Tapping the soju glass against the counter, you sighed and slid against the wood until your cheek hit the table. It was cool under you, at least. Your sight was maybe a little hazy, a mix of overall exhaustion and the few drinks you had. You did as you were instructed, dropping a quick tweet about how you and Jeno were strictly friends, and of course the comments flooded with the usual support and the few rude replies, which were soon drowned out by memes and rational responses. The usual day on Twitter. You had spent the last few hours scrolling through your tags, a toxic trait of yours, you know, but you couldn't help it. You needed to assess the situation before making any further moves in promotions or on social media, unless you wanted Suho and Seojoon on your ass again managing your socials, you'd rather not give them the extra work. It was only natural that you wouldn't have liked what you saw in your searches and tags. Somedays, it felt like whatever you did just wasn't enough. Your eyes glanced to the clock. It was nearing midnight, and you didn't think anyone would be showing up. How did you get into such a pitiful situation? Wait, you already knew the answer to that.

"(Y/N)! Hi! Are you already there?" Yangyang's voice was chipper. "Hey, sorry, something came up with the WayV guys, you know, they're sentimental so they won't let me out of this "family bonding" shit, so! So, so, I prepared a little surprise for you! You'll love it, I promise, and if you don't I know you'd be lying because I know you too damn well! Trust, okay?"

Yangyang had suddenly called you earlier, conveniently right as you arrived. There was a slight hint of laughter in his voice, the kind you knew him to have when he was planning something in particular. He never intended to come with you tonight, that much you knew for sure, and you were clever enough to put two and two together.

The person who was supposed to accompany you tonight was none other than the one who had been trying so hard to see you, and you had to give Seongwha credit for that. You're the stubborn one, and it was times like this when you could really sit and think about it when you wonder why? Why is he settling for you? Surely, there's someone else out there that could be his perfect half, and yet, here you are, staring at his contact picture. Maybe you should call him? You couldn't lie to yourself, you wanted to see him. Despite the fact that he was now nearly two hours late. Then again, when had any date of yours gone right? Did this count as a date? The sound of a cuckoo clock from the back room of the shop was enough to answer your questions.

"Auntie, can I just stay here a bit longer?" You ask. What could be holding him up? You wanted to call and ask, but at the same time, you felt obligated not to ruin the surprise. You knew they were in the midst of a tour, so you were certain that if anything it was practice holding him up, but goodness, you were worried about him. It was far too late.

"Stay as long as you need, hon," your aunt rubs your head affectionately before walking off to the back room. Your head felt heavy, maybe you shouldn't have drank while waiting, but there was no way you'd want to discuss anything heavy sober right now, you just wanted to relax. If you didn't have this, you'd be knocked out in bed by now.

Before you knew it, you were calling him, holding the phone to your ear. One ring, two rings, three rings, four, then it fell silent, the obnoxious beep tone playing instead and prompting you to leave a message. You hung up, lying back down against the counter. You heard the shop entrance open, as signaled by the quiet bell chime. Was it him? Was he here? You didn't have the energy to get up, your eyelids felt heavy, and the countertop was much too comfortable. Whoever entered took a seat next to you. You could see the polished combat boots, the dark jeans that had faded with age, and the loose chain that hung off the belt loop. You already knew who it was, and it wasn't who you would've ever expected to be here.

"(Y/N), it's not safe to fall asleep in restaurants," his voice was the same as you'd remembered it. Soft but strong, maybe a bit scratchy from lack of use and a bad smoking habit, but not enough for it to be worthy of note. You hadn't heard his voice for, what, a year now? For some reason, your mood only soured. "You should go home." A concerned sigh came from him.

"Did auntie call you?" You asked quietly, your words slightly muffled because of your squished face against the counter.

"I wouldn't be here otherwise," his voice was tired. You heard the sound of a lighter and, soon, the faint scent of smoke.

"Oi! Jung Kanghoon, you'd better not be smoking in my restaurant!" Your aunt's voice was clear. Your older brother made no effort to listen. Instead, he slid the pack towards you.

"No thanks, I have to take care of my throat more," you yawned. "Too many of those guys smoke in the dorms, I'm afraid I'm going to die of secondhand smoking or something," you sighed.

"Too many of them, huh?" Kanghoon sighs. "Were you waiting for someone?" You hear him slide the soju bottle away from you. You turned your head to the door. No one was coming any time soon.

"Yeah, I was," you sat up now and stared at your phone, looking at the one lone message from Yangyang.

'I'm sorry, I don't know where he is, he said he'd be there. You know I just wanted to help...' His heart was in the right place, it always was, and while you appreciated it, you hoped that he didn't take this to heart. Then, another text came in. 'Do you want me to head over there? I'll take you home.' You didn't respond, rather, you didn't have the chance to.

"Don't think he's going to show up though," you added. Kanghoon leaned one arm on the counter. The smell of smoke grew stronger. "So... you came running when auntie called you, but whenever I try to call you it's like I'm no one, huh?"

"You know it's not like that," Kanghoon took a drag of his cigarette. "Those are different, you're trying to get me to come over and get out of the house, and auntie told me that you're on your fourth bottle."

"Don't worry, I can drink more and be fine," you nodded. "So, what did you want to say to me?"

"Just go home, (Y/N)."

"I'll wait a little bit longer..."

"Go home. It's dangerous outside for an idol."

"It's not the first time he's been late to something."

"Stop being stubborn, go home." You glared at him and he only rose an eyebrow back.

"I hate how you do that," you grimaced. "Pulling your big brother card without saying it, jerk," you groaned and packed your things. "Hey, at least read my messages, okay? I'm worried about you."

"I'm more worried about you," Kanghoon reverses the topic back to you. "Take care, (Y/N), I know you're an adult now, but if you need anything, anything important, call me."

"Yeah, yeah, if you pick up," you waved him off. "Not even going to walk me home?" You ask. Kanghoon reaches over to your bag and you push his hand out of the way.

"If you're still sober enough to do that, then you're sober enough to walk a couple of blocks home," he turns back so that both of his arms were resting against the counter.

"Yeah, you're right," you crossed your arms. "Just would've been nice to actually catch up, you know? Or are you too busy to do that?" Kanghoon looks over at you, as usual, you couldn't read him at all, but you could make out a faint hint of concern.

"Good night, (Y/N)," he cuts off the conversation instead, turning away from you.

"Good night," you knew that you weren't going to get anything out of him, not tonight, at least. He watches you leave from the corner of his eye. Once the door closes, your aunt walks back out.

"Why did you call me?"

"Why else? She always listens to you," your aunt huffs. "I've been telling her to go home for the past hour, and here you come, tell her a couple of times, and she's gone! Stubborn as hell, why'd you raise her like that?"

"Rather her be too stubborn than for people to walk all over her."

"Like they do you?" His aunt places an ashtray on the counter.

"Of course," Kanghoon responds.

"I'm worried about her."

"You and her thousands of fans."

"That's different, Kanghoon. Before I was worried about how she was handling all of the publicity, but now I'm just worried about her wellbeing, all that stress on her, it's not healthy," your aunt spies your untouched bowl of ramen. "She walked in here and just sat there. I had a feeling she was waiting for someone, and usually she'd talk to me, at least. Instead, it looked like she was thinking of something the whole time, but she didn't know how to bring it up. She got off the phone with someone and, next thing I knew it, she was ordering bottles instead. I almost called her ex-boyfriend, but I figured that was probably why she was so lost in thought so I decided on you instead," she continues. "You're cruel though, Kanghoon, having her leave herself," she shakes her head.

"Whatever, she can handle it," Kanghoon puts out his cigarette against the ashtray. "I'm heading out."

"Kanghoon, you really should talk to your sister more, I'm being serious here."

"I know," he only nods his head. "You should've called Hamin."

"He's on a whole other continent, why call him when you live just down the street of her dorms?"

"It's actually a couple of blocks," Kanghoon's voice jumps at the last word just as his aunt hits his head with a wooden spatula.

"You're horrible, Kanghoon, what happened to the little boy who was attached to his siblings' hips? Hmm?"

"He grew up," Kanghoon ruffles his hair slightly while sitting back. He spots your wallet on the table and picks it up, rifling through the cards and bills, or lack thereof. He was still trying to figure out if you left it there on purpose, as if to probe him to pay you a visit to return it, or if you really were too drunk to realize.

"Kanghoon, none of that secretive bullshit, you talk to her. Get into her head, somehow, lord knows I can't do it. I don't know what she's thinking now, and I'm worried because of it." Kanghoon looks back at her. No words were exchanged, but there was that mutual understanding. Kanghoon, regardless, stepped out of the restaurant and back into the cold air. He adjusts his jacket just as he notices someone turn the corner. His hair was a mess and his coat buttoned incorrectly, wherever he was going, it was clear that he left in a rush.

In that instant, he and Park Seonghwa made eye contact.

Seonghwa skid to a stop when he saw the stranger, taking deep breaths to compose himself. Roughed in the edges, his jacket was worn and tattered in some spots, but the chains on his belt and around his neck were enough to distract from it. Seonghwa knew better to stare, but that old scar on the stranger's cheek was prominent. He shook his head, he had no idea he'd run into anyone tonight, much less a delinquent. He wasn't expecting to be late, who plans to be late anyway? It was supposed to be a quick trip to the company, just to kill time before heading here, he wanted to sort out his thoughts with Hongjoong, what with the possibility of a close friend of his being your stalker, if it was true, he figured he'd let Yangyang know, thinking that he'd be meeting him tonight. He wasn't expecting Eden to pull him aside to record some lines for a track he had in mind. Even when he insisted, Eden promised that it'd only take an hour.

Needless to say, it has been way more than an hour. Seonghwa figured it would be alright, Yangyang of all people would understand that work gets in the way sometimes. Until he saw Yangyang's contact name flashing across the screen, an incoming call from an unlikely source. It was that one-sided call that got Seonghwa running out of the recording studio as soon as he could.

"Hey, so, this is my fault. 100%, I should've made it clear but I was thinking it would've just been a nice surprise but, of course, whenever I plan things something always goes sideways. Like when I spilled coffee all over Red. But, anyway, yeah, I'm not meeting you tonight. It's (Y/N). I think there's something up with her, I don't think she's told you yet, but she's been getting these weird messages, we're also like 98% sure she has a stalker, and recently more stuff have been piling on her plate, just... just go spend time with her. She likes you a lot, like, disgustingly a lot. She has fun with Mark and I, but anyone can see the difference when she's with you, even if she denies it. Seriously, though, if you can't make it, just tell me now and I'll go there myself."

Like hell he was going to let Yangyang steal his thunder. He hung up the phone and came right here, taking a taxi the whole way and just barely being able to hide his face until he got to the front of the restaurant. He fixes his coat before walking at a brisk pace, noticeably toward the restaurant entrance. Kanghoon watched him as he did so.

Of course, Kanghoon knew who Park Seonghwa is. How could he not know the identity of the man who broke his little sister's heart? He may not have answered every one of them, but he certainly did read every message you sent to him about your relationship. Every message asking him to come out of his house to meet him or for them to come over to his house. He was sure that you'd found the one until that happened. If only he wasn't working, he would've said yes, no, he should've made time for you. That was beside the point now. Now, he read all the messages asking what you did to deserve what happened. He'd never forgive him for that. All those texts you'd sent him asking why, if he wasn't so busy with his job he would've come running, he swears. Regardless, Kanghoon stayed relaxed as he watched Seonghwa move, until finally he decided to spare Seonghwa the effort.

"She's not there anymore, you just missed her," Kanghoon pulls his keys out and Seonghwa, with one hand on the door, turns back.

"I'm sorry?" He looked at him as if he were an overstepping stranger. Maybe Kanghoon should introduce himself properly? He thought about it for a while before deciding against it. You already have enough problems going on, he'd rather not add to it. But, at the same time, you're his little sister, and he'll always keep in mind for you what he thinks is the best for you. And Park Seonghwa?

He's far from what you deserve.

"She just left, don't bother, the owner's cleaning up," Kanghoon continues.

"With all due respect," Seonghwa glowers. "I don't think that it's any of your business." Kanghoon clicked his tongue quietly. This wasn't how he imagined meeting Seonghwa for the first time, that was for certain. He didn't recall you mentioning that Seonghwa had a bit of an attitude either.

"Don't go chasing things you can't keep up with." Using the wallet, Kanghoon points down the street towards the dorms, a motion that Seonghwa followed, silently understanding what he meant. Then, Kanghoon tosses the wallet to Seonghwa anyway, knowing you, if you really liked Seonghwa so much you'd see him soon. Kanghoon would rather spare himself the trip to the dorms. Seonghwa caught the wallet and eyed it curiously, his expression relaxing as soon as he realized it belonged to you. Maybe it was a bad choice on his part, Kanghoon's, that is. Maybe he shouldn't leave the door of opportunity open for Seonghwa. But maybe Seonghwa would surprise him. Kanghoon grabs his helmet and straps it on, riding off before Seonghwa could answer.

"Dammit." Seonghwa looked inside the restaurant and confirmed that it was empty. He pulled his phone out, ignoring the many texts from Yangyang, he decided to call you instead. One ring, two rings, three rings...

"Seonghwa?"

"(Y/N)," he let out a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, I'm here now, did you go home?"

"I'm on my way back, actually, I left my wallet there."

"Stay where you are, I'll meet you there and walk you the rest of the way home," Seonghwa looks down at your wallet, moving in the direction of the dorms. "Stay on the line."

"I know, honestly, I was about to call too, it's kind of spooky right now," he didn't realize it until now, but there was that floaty tone in your voice.

"(Y/N), I'm serious, stay put," Seonghwa says. You laughed lightly.

"Yes, sir! I'll stay right here. Wherever I am," you added with a short giggle. There was no doubt about it. You were definitely drunk. Stage Two, as he and your close friends called it, Cloud 9. He missed stage one, luckily, grumpy.

"What do you see?"

"I see you!" Seonghwa looked around, not seeing you anywhere.

"(Y/N), are you sure that's me?"

"I mean... I think so? You're pretty far away though. Aren't you wearing a brown coat?"

"(Y/N), love, it's winter in South Korea, every man and his best friend are probably wearing a brown coat."

"That is true. But... he really does look like you," you insisted. "From a distance... at least... I kind of assumed he was you, he's on the phone too, looking right at me, where are you?"

"I'm just crossing the street."

"Oh, then that's definitely not you."

"That's what I've been saying, love," Seonghwa shakes his head with a small chuckle. "Are you the one sitting on the bench?" The more appropriate word would be slumped, but he was sure that you already knew that.

"Yes! That's me! Oh, you're almost right next to your look-a-like! Don't talk to him, that's bad luck, you know." Seonghwa turned his head and, color him surprised.

"Oh, hyung!" Kyungjae smiles and waves while Seonghwa's lips fell into a frown.

"I'll be right there, (Y/N), stay put," Seonghwa says.

"Okay!" You hung up first.

"What are you doing here?" Kyungjae asks.

"Picking up my girlfriend," Seonghwa forces a smile. "Excuse me," he makes a move to leave, but Kyungjae stops him.

"Hyung, actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"Me too, what are you doing here? I thought your apartment was further from here?"

"Oh, well," Kyungjae looks taken aback. "I just had to drop by the company, my boss called me in for a concept meeting," he says. "But, er, did I hear you correctly, hyung? You're back in a relationship?" Seonghwa sneaks a glance to you, who had, miraculously, dozed off on the bench.

"I am, yes, sorry, can we get caught up later? I have to make sure she's safe," he makes a move to leave again, but Kyungjae stops him again.

"Actually, hyung-"

"Not now, Kyungjae, if it's a question, you can text it to me later," Seonghwa squares his shoulders and Kyungjae catches the memo.

"Hyung." Seonghwa, despite being further away, turns to look at him. "Don't do something you'll regret." Seonghwa turned away, walking over to you instead. When he looked over his shoulder again, Kyungjae was walking in the opposite direction. Instead, he turned his attention to you.

"(Y/N)," he shakes you gently. You grab onto his wrist with a death grip, fully ready to react. "Wait! Wait, it's me!" You look up with wide eyes and grin.

"Oh! It's you!"

"How did you fall asleep here?" He chuckles.

"Well, I saw you over there, talking to your twin, and figured that I'd be okay here," you rest your head against his hip and he sighs. "I always feel a bit happier when I'm with you!" Your voice was muffled against his coat. And it was true, as soon as he was in clear eye sight, you felt like you were walking on clouds, it was so easy to forget worries and stresses when he was around. "You'll never guess the day I've had... I'm exhausted but for some reason I feel a little more energetic now."

"Let's get you home, okay?"

"Okay, but, hm, hold this," you reached in your bag, handing him a half-finished bottle of soju. "Shh, don't tell auntie I swiped it," you held a finger to your lips before attempting to stand up. In no time at all, Seonghwa had a hand around your waist to support you. "The cap is broken, so I think it's going to spill if I keep it in my bag, that's why it's half empty," you continued, latching your arms around him.

"Sure, (Y/N), sure," Seonghwa rolls his eyes.

"I didn't drink it, I'm serious!"

"And I'm Choi San."

"You are?" You let him go in an instant, stumbling back and just barely catching yourself. "Choi San! That's very inappropriate of you! You know that Seonghwa and I are seeing each other again, why would you try to take advantage of my semi-drunken state? I thought we were friends? I thought I could trust you!" And you continued to ramble all while Seonghwa held his phone up, recording for educational purposes. "Things are finally looking up, ish, I can't have anyone ruining that right now! I even have to figure out how to tell Choi Yeonjun that I can't do the collaboration because of all these random things coming up about me online, I can't afford that! People are saying that I'm a kitten killer what's with that? Where did that even come from? Oh, gosh, I can't in good conscience ruin another idol's image! Why would you do this to me?!" Seonghwa stopped recording.

"Yeonjun asked you to collaborate with him?"

"Yes! And I said yes, at first, but then I thought about it, and I realized, oh god, I must not have been in the right state of mind if I said yes. Especially now after someone threw a hissy fit because I went to the gym with Jeno!"

Seonghwa knew about that, but he hasn't had time to open any socials, and now he was more hesitant to do so.

"What I'm trying to say, San," you continued, fully convinced you were talking to San at this point. "While I appreciate, that you like me, I can't reciprocate those feelings, so you should move on and find someone better," you placed your hand on Seonghwa's arm. "Besides, you're not my type." Seonghwa, once again, started recording.

"No? Why not?" It was just a curious question.

"Because... because..." You trailed into a thought. "You're like... a buff Yangyang." Yup, that'll do it. Seonghwa broke into laughter, resulting in an offended look from you. "What's so funny?"

"What do you mean, what's so funny? Did you hear what you just said?" Seonghwa says between chuckles.

"What? You're a lot more similar than you'd think! And that's like... weird, why would I date my best friend? He's my best friend for a reason! If we dated that would be weird... Plus, sometimes his face pisses me off, all smug and stuff, makes me wanna one up him at everything!" Your brows scrunched together as you rambled.

"I agree, that would be weird, you know what? Let me grab Seonghwa," he laughs turning you around and ending the recording. You turned around at your own accord and smiled again.

"Hi," there was a bashful smile on your face, a drunken glow to it despite the night air.

"Hey," Seonghwa's voice was soft, savoring the moment as much as he could.

"You will not believe what just happened," you laughed.

"Try me," Seonghwa ushered you forward, listening to you drunkenly recount the tale of what had just happened a few minutes ago, but listening to every word anyway. You were nearing the dorms now, and he silently hoped that he wasn't blacklisted from the building anymore. You looped your arm around his and slightly pulled him closer to you. He was hoping that he'd get to talk to you about Kyungjae today, but considering how slow you were walking, it would be a fool's choice to bring up anything remotely important.

"You know what?" You finally ask. Seonghwa only looks at you, waiting for an answer. "I think we should just date now."

"Is that not what we're doing?"

"I mean, I know I said we should wait, because there's so much on my plate right now, and you're going to be leaving for Europe soon, but I miss you, a lot," despite the way you looked, you sounded sincere. "And, I know, I complain a lot, and I can be a handful, but, you're here right now, you're standing right next to me, and that means something, right?" You looked at him. Stage three, sentimental. You were both standing in front of the building now. Seonghwa placed his hands on your arms, holding you steady and holding you close.

"Of course, it means something," he says. "(Y/N), I know you're not going to remember much of this, but I do love you, so much," he continues. "There's so much I want to do with you and there's so much I want to do for you, I can't even begin to say it in words, and I'm not going to try now, not when I know you won't remember most of it. But this?" He holds up the soju glass. "Let's try to control this a little, alright? Next time you feel like going for a drink, let me know, okay?"

"But... but then I would've ruined Yangyang's surprise..." you frowned. Seonghwa stopped for a moment.

Oh. It all made sense, the short message that morning with no context, the fact that you waited so long without calling him. There was a slight pang in his heart. Your best friend tried to set up a time for you and him to spend together, and Seonghwa very nearly brushed it off. If he hadn't gotten that call, he might not have showed up at all.

"Oh, well, that's on him for managing it so poorly," you snickered. It would appear that even in a half-state of mind, Yangyang was still a relentless victim. You both walked inside now, Seonghwa was too worried to have you ascend on your own, there was a quick nod of understanding between him and the security guard and then he was in the clear to enter. He was glad he followed you, especially when you stared at the elevator buttons for too long. Long enough that Seonghwa was able to pull your key out of your pocket to scan it over the reader for you and slip it back into your wallet without you remarking. The elevator began ascending and you gripped onto both him and the railing. "Gosh, I can never remember which floor it is."

"That's probably because there isn't a button to your floor."

"Right! Security," you continued, the elevator halting to a stop and sliding open to the hallway. As soon as you stepped out, your path began to lean to the right, and Seonghwa swiftly pulled you in the right direction. Stage four, drowsy. "Hey... Seonghwa?" You lightly turned him to face you. You moved closer, your lips inches away from his, and Seonghwa's world slows. In an instant, his hand flies up to cover your mouth. "Mmph?" You let out a confused sound, your eyes wide with surprise.

"You're drunk right now, I don't think it's a good idea to do this," he says. Your eyes seem to sadden and he sighs.

"Mmm mmrph wrmph." He let's go of your mouth.

"What did you say, love?"

"I said that you're right, look at you, being responsible," you yawned and knocked on the door, despite the key being in your pocket. "Guess no one's home." Seonghwa was ready to open the door for you until the door opened.

Taeyong stared at the both of you. A worried look was on his face as he looked at you.

"Hi, Yong!" You smiled. Seonghwa held up the soju bottle and held up five fingers. Taeyong sighed while he reached for the bottle, but before he could speak, he was pushed out of the way.

"Hi, (Y/N), I'm glad you're home safe," Johnny smiles. Ushering you inside.

"She-" Johnny glared at him and shut the door, effectively cutting Seonghwa off. Seonghwa let out a long breath but, at the end, a small laugh bubbled up and a grin settled on his lips. He turned around, ready to head home, and then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He read the message from you and felt his heart soar.

'Good night <3 I got home safe, so promise me you will too, okay?'

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sobredunia · 1 year

Note

i refuse anon back again!

i refuse ;) to reveal myself just yet.. but i do have a hint as to who i am.

i’ve written quite a few wdy aus that are up on ao3, and i feel like you may have commented on them before…

good luck :3

alright boys we got a case to crack

the anon has stated that they found the story through ao3 searching, the first chapter nonetheless, so it's safe to assume that they found my ao3 account first and then my tumblr. There is a chance they found both separately and realised they were by the same person, but I have a hunch that's not the case

In the main story, there are 55 kudos, 39 of which were made by guests. There is a high chance that one of those kudos were done by the anon, but due to their obvious interest in the story, they probably used their ao3 account to give the kudos, or used a second email to give guest kudos and ao3 acc kudos. Not only that, but they have also revealed that they've written some wdy AUs, already ruling out a lot of ao3 accounts that gave kudos to the main story

There is a high chance I've commented on at least one of the anon's works, which doesn't really make the number that small because I comment of every fic I can. We can rule out all the writers who have only written smut, since I am personally not a fan of the genre

This is the list of possibilities so far of people who have given kudos to the story and/or have written wdy fics that I've given kudos and/or comments

Abs321, ZecriSketch, NoodlezAndPai, CuddilyKanin, CorruptedMii, Autin_Sander, pseudonymousrex, and nintendowii

There are a few people in the list who have only written one wdy fic, and they're more on thin ice than the others since the anon has admitted that they've written quite a few AUs, but we can't rule them out just yet due to a surprisingly big amount of orphaned works on the wdy tag which could also have been written by the anon, so they have been marked in bold

But there are two important facts that I have yet to point out

They know of this Tumblr, they know that it was tumblr user sobredunia the one who wrote I refuse, and they have a tumblr account since they have stated that they can go off anon (I don't remember right now if you need a tumblr account to be an anon so. yeah. there is a tumblr account they can show)

Now, I know a few people in the previous suspect list that have tumblr accounts, like ZecriSketch, NoodlezAndPai, and CuddilyKanin, but the rest? no idea if they have accounts or not

There is a way people who weren't already tumblr mutuals might have found this place, and that is through fanart I made of some wdy fics that link to this account, but to the two fics I've done this to, there is no previously unknown tumblr account that has given

OH MY GOD WAIT ABSISANERD FUCKING WROTE PAUSE MENU. THEY'RE ABS321. HOW DID I JUST REALISE THIS. ABS IF YOU'RE READING THIS I'M SO SORRY I'M SLOWER THAN A SLOW BURN SOMETIMES OH MY GOD. FUCKING LOVE THE FIC. I LOVE YOU.

OKAY SO COMING BACK FROM THAT DISCOVERY. I don't think literally anyone of my tumblr mutuals would write like one or two wdy fics and then go on and say they've uploaded quite a few, so all the names in bold are out

We got three main suspects left, then again a secret fourth suspect with a steel chair could appear out of nowhere, but I don't think so here

Autin_Sander, pseudonymousrex, and nintendowii

Autin_Sander hasn't given any kudos with their ao3 account to any of the three fics of the story, and I have just started interacting with their works, so I doubt they have found my tumblr account this easy. to eeby deeby with them

nintendowii has given kudos to the main story, but not to the prequel nor the sequel. They could have used a guest account tho, and maybe they bookmarked the work with a private bookmark, who knows

pseuOH MY GOD A FUCKING 4TH CONTENDANT WITH A STEEL CHAIR. cheesiestofcurds. THEY'VE COMMENTED ON THE FIC AND PROBABLY GIVEN KUDOS WITH A GUEST

wait no they've only written one fic and I don't think I've given any comments or kudos. to eeby deeby with them I guess

okay, pseudonymousrex. This one is tricky, because i've made fanart for their story, with my tumblr linked, we're somewhat buddies thanks to the many comments i've left on their works, and they've bookmarked the main story. I don't know how much the fic impacted them due to them leaving no comment on any chapter or anything in their bookmark, so it might just be a case of "oh yea this thing's good let's put it on the fridge so everyone can see". Not only that, but I haven't seen any stranger on the notes of the fanart so maybe they don't have a tumblr account, or maybe they didn't back then but now they do thanks to all the twitter dumpsterfire and they're shy and don't know tumblr etiquette so they're going on anon

still, it's a bit weird how the anon asks were made as if they had some sort of reverence, something which I doubt they would have considering the absolute batshit comments and lack of formality I've shown in their fic. so

My main bet is that you're nintendowii, and if that's wrong it's probably pseudonymousrex

#anon #as soon as I got this ask tabs flew open lmao #i got too invested in this investigation #ask #i refuse anon

0 notes

seita · 3 years

Text

girls like you | (m.)

pairing: hanamaki/f!reader

genre: smut, fluff

wordcount: 2.526

cw: dilf!makki, college!reader

tags: age gap, loss of virginity, virgin kink, pussy slapping with dick, multiple orgasms, mildly wet and messy, dirty talk, mating press, sensitivity kink, squirting, brief aftercare

+ note: this is my installment of @kaijime's dilf collab!

summary: you never expected to find yourself in bed with your moms ex boyfriend, or for him to have a thing for sweet little college girls like yourself.

“God, this is why I love pretty little college girls like you,” he groans, looking at you splayed across his bed. You were in just a simple pair of panties, arms tucked across your chest to cover your breasts.

You shudder beneath his gaze. His eyes are lidded, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. You never thought you’d be in a position like this -- especially with Takahiro Hanamaki of all people.

You knew him years ago, he had been dating your mom for a few months. You two actually got along really well before they suddenly broke up and you were forbade from seeing him again.

The last thing you expected was to run into him on the street in the city you moved to for college. And you certainly didn’t expect a casual dinner to turn into you pretty much naked on his bed.

You had never even had a boyfriend before, so to wind up in this position with a man twice your age was surreal. But the longer he stared at you with those sharp, heated eyes, the wetter your panties became.

His words run around in your head. Of course, you knew younger girls -- girls your age, always threw themselves at Hanamaki. You were pretty sure that was a reason your mom dumped him -- too much insecurity caused from it.

But to hear him pretty much confess that he liked to bed college girls made you squirm.

“Bet you’re dripping into those pretty panties, aren’t you?” he breathes, “Move your hands, let me see you.”

You whine and slowly force your arms to your sides, fighting the urge to cover yourself once more as his eyes landed on you. You felt so exposed and vulnerable.

“Hiro…” you whimper, making his heartbeat speed up for a split second at the sound of a sweet nickname falling from your lips.

“I’ve dreamt about this for so long,” he whispers, reaching behind himself to pull his shirt over his head, “You have no idea…”

“H-How long?” you manage to ask, eyes raking across his body.

He’s not fit or anything like you remember seeing him in pictures when he was in highschool. He had long since abandoned volleyball and his body had begun to show his age. He wasn’t unattractive by any means, he was filled out in all the right places. His skin looked soft and his biceps bulged with every movement he made.

“Since I was with your mother,” he grumbles, finally working on his belt, pulling the leather out of the loops on his jeans.

“What?” you gasp, eyes wide, “I-Is that why you broke up?”

He pauses what he’s doing to look at you, shrugging after a second, “Not entirely…” he sighs when he sees that you’re not willing to let the conversation go, “You know how your mother is...she’s jealous of everyone. Even you.”

“Seems she had a reason to be jealous of me,” you mutter, biting your lip to fight back a smile.

It was no secret between the two of you how toxic your mother was. She was vain, always believing she had to be the prettiest, most important person in a room. It really put a strain on your relationship when she started to force those ideals onto you -- be the perfect daughter to the perfect mom. When you moved away, you pretty much stopped contact with her.

“Well, you are a threat,” he whispers, reaching down to grip your thighs. You squeal as he tugs you to the end of the bed, “Just look at you, darling, you’re just stunning...perfect body...pretty tits.”

“Hiro…” you whisper, squirming on the bed as you await his next move.

“Let’s get these off,” he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, pulling them down your thighs.

Strings of slick connected your pussy to the fabric. He couldn’t help but moan at the sight. He brought your panties up to his face, thumbing the wet material, your juices stuck to his finger when he pulled away and he couldn’t help but bring the digit to his mouth.

“Fuck, taste so good,” he growls through his teeth, “And you always did wear the cutest little panties.”

“Huh?” you manage to gasp out through the haze of lust that had taken over you.

He chuckled darkly, letting your panties fall to the ground, “You never noticed how your panties went missing all the time? Couldn’t help steal them when I found them in the laundry basket.”

You giggle, hiding your face behind your hands, “Dirty old man.”

He barked out a laugh, finally dropping to his knees, gripping your thighs to pull them apart, letting him see your glistening folds, “And you’re a needy little slut, aren’t you? Getting off on fucking this old man.”

You bite your lip and peek out of your fingers at him. It feels so lewd to be like this, having your legs spread apart with a man twice your age between your legs. He had a kid just about your age, yet there you were -- letting him spread your sensitive little cunt open so he could stare at your pulsing hole and clit.

“Seriously…” he finally gasps out, “Young girls like you...fuck, you’re always so sensitive and get so fucking wet...I feel like an addict.”

“Hiro…” you whimper, reaching down to wrap your hand in his graying hair. It was softer than you thought it would be, “I-I’ve never done this before...you know?”

He curses under his breath, “Yeah, I know sweetheart...trust me...I know,” he presses a kiss to your ankle, “I’ll take real good care of you.”

You whimper as he suddenly leans in, swiping his tongue between your folds. Your entire body tightened as he flicked over your clit. He didn’t mind your hand tightening in his hair -- not when you were arching desperately, already grinding your hips down in search of more stimulation.

You were so sensitive and wet, gushing into his mouth. He eagerly lapped it up, bringing his hand up to quickly sink two fingers into your cunt. You gasped and your body tensed up for a moment, prompting him to pull away.

“Does that hurt, pretty baby?” he coos, keeping his fingers still for you as you whimper and nod, “Sorry, baby...didn’t think about how it might be too much for you.”

“‘S okay…” you mumble, body slowly relaxing, “Y-You can keep goin’.”

He grins, wrapping his lips around your clit once again. He keeps his finger’s movements to a minimum, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly. You sigh and moan happily, thighs twitching at the pleasure he’s giving you.

“‘M gonna make you cum,” he whispers, circling his tongue around the hard little bud.

His fingers sped up, crooking up to hit that tender little spot inside you. You let out an adorable squeal, thighs suddenly clamping around his head. He growls in mild annoyance, using his other hand to pin you open for him to continue.

His cock is straining against his zipper, throbbing in response to your responsive body. Your cunt was tightening around his fingers and he moans against your clit, knowing you’re about to cum. Your thighs are trembling and you clutch desperately at his hair. He didn’t mind the pain, in fact it made his cock even harder.

As you finally came, you cried out his name and it was like music to his ears. Your entire body trembled and jerked underneath him, cunt squeezing his fingers as you creamed around them. He swore he could feel your clit throbbing against his tongue.

After a minute, you began pushing him away and he did so almost reluctantly. He pulled his fingers from your cunt with a lewd squelching. Holding the digits up, he spread them apart so you could see the way your cum clung to them in sticky strings.

You whimper at the lewd sight of it but he merely grins, popping them into his mouth with a muted moan.

“Virgins just taste so sweet,” he whispers, making your face flush hot.

With practiced ease, he grips your waist and pushes you back up the bed until your head is in the pillows. He straightens himself up and begins shedding himself of the final layer of clothes he wears.

You squirm on the bed at the sight of his cock. It’s pretty, long and pink with a flushed red tip. Precum drools down the side which he quickly catches with his hand, stroking himself languidly to the sight of you gawking at his cock.

“You still want this, pretty?” he breathes, licking his lips as he waits for your response.

You swallow thickly and sigh. You can’t believe you’re in this position. It feels so unlike you to do something like this; lose your virginity to your mothers ex-boyfriend, a man she had forbidden you to even talk to after their break up.

But as you look up at him, you feel your cunt clench pathetically around nothing and know that you need him -- want him more than anything.

“Please, Hiro,” you softly cry, reaching out for him.

He groans at your consent, climbing onto the bed. It dips under his weight as he positions himself between your legs. He wraps his fist around the base of his cock, shuddering under the feeling of his own touch. Slapping the thick head against your wet folds, he grins when your entire body twitches in response to the feeling.

Whining low in your throat, you grip the pillow beneath your head. Your eyes are lidded and your lips are parted as you pant under his intense gaze.

“Hiro…” you sigh softly, watching his lips twitch in response to you whining his name.

He feels drunk, head hazy as he strokes the tip between your folds, catching your clit and dipping into your hot little hole to watch you gush against him.

His ex-girlfriends sweet little daughter was beneath him, damn near creaming around the tip of his cock every time he pressed it against you. You were just about the age of his own kid and it felt so taboo, so wrong. But that only made it feel more exhilarating.

It wasn’t the first time he had sunk his fat cock into the tiny, tender little virgin cunt of a college girl. It certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“You sure you want it, pretty girl?” he groans, “Want me to pop this little cherry?”

You flush under his crude words and find yourself shyly nodding. A wide grin splits his face and before you can think twice, his hips are nudging forward, popping the head inside of you. Your thighs twitch closed at the sting but he’s quick to pin them down, rocking his hips to push more and more of his length inside you until his hips are flush against yours.

You’re panting by the time he finally stills, thighs trembling in his hold. He can feel your cunt spasming around him and he can’t help but fold your legs up against your chest, pinning you there as he slowly begins to fuck you properly.

His eyes are locked onto the way your cunt stretches around him, a thick ring of white at the base of his cock every time he pulls out. It’s mouthwatering and so cute just how responsive you are. You precious little cunt sucks his cock back desperately every time he pulls out.

“Hiro!” you squeal, little hands slapping down onto the bed, unsure exactly what to do with them.

He smiles, taking pity on you before he leans down, taking your wrists in his hands, prompting you into wrapping your arms around his neck. The change in position allows him to grind against your clit every time he sinks in. Your thighs squeeze his sides, body keeping them pinned open as he continues to fuck you.

Your fingers wrap themselves in his hair and you find yourself clinging desperately to him. He presses his lips against yours and smiles as you moan softly into his mouth. Your entire body was trembling in his arms and it made his cock throb almost painfully.

“So sweet,” he whispers, “Does it feel good, pretty? Tell me.”

“F-Feel’s so good!” you squeal, eyes rolling back in your head as you pant.

He could tell you were getting close with the way your entire body seemed to be alight with nerves, twitching and spasming beneath him. Your back arched and your tight little cunt squeezed around his cock, making him slow his pace to avoid hurting you.

The action caused an almost disappointed cry falling from your lips but he quickly shushed you, instead changing the angle of his thrusts to hit that sweet little spot inside of you.

“You’re close…” he whispers, looking down between your bodies to watch how soaked his cock had become in your juices, “C’mon, baby, lemme see you cum.”

“C-Can’t!” you gasp, “‘S too much!”

“No, you can do it, baby,” he encourages, “Just relax and let go for me, hm?”

A soft sob rips from your lips before you suddenly fall quiet. His eyes drift to your face and sees your lip is tucked between your teeth and your brows are drawn together. He reaches between your legs to find your clit, wet and hard beneath his fingers as he circles it.

Your mouth drops open and you release an almost timid little cry, hands reaching down to wrap around his wrist.

Your walls clamp down around him and he curses, feeling the indicative feeling of your gushing around him, squirting against his abdomen and soaking the both of you in your cum. You’re squealing and crying beneath him, tears falling from your eyes as he continues to fuck you through the high. He pins your trembling body down, keeping you from moving as he works himself to his own high.

His heavy balls slap wetly against you every time he sinks in. His cock is soaked in your cum and the sight makes him throb, finally sending him over the edge. He freezes, sinking himself balls deep inside of your still spasming cunt, making sure to shoot his cum against your cervix. You whimper at the feeling of his hot cum filling you up but quickly relax when the two of you fall still.

Once he pulls out and works on cleaning the two of you up, he can’t resist pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead. You look so cute and sweet cuddled up in his bed, struggling to stay awake after he’d fucked you so well.

Neither of you knows what to say as he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms. Both of you know how wrong this entire thing is but part of him knows he’s become completely and utterly addicted to you.

The picture of his ex-wife and mother of his kid sits on his nightstand, collecting dust and you muse the outcome of if your mother found out you had fucked her ex-boyfriend as you fall asleep.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #hq x reader #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki smut #hanamaki takahiro x reader #takahiro hanamaki x reader #hanamaki takahiro smut #takahiro hanamaki smut #afton.writes

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tetsurouskuro · 4 years

Text

Reunion

pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, slight angst, breeding kink, unprotected sex, public sex, bokuto does the kabedon

word count: 5,006

a/n: this is my submission for the Haikyuu Headquarters second NSFW server collab! this time it’s the prompt “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” you can find the masterlist HERE by the amazing @vixen-scribbles who is my queen so go give her a follow! 💖

thank you @deathcab4daddy & @gallickingun for beta reading, ily guys so much (go give them a follow if you aren’t already)! 💖

now enjoy; feedback is always appreciated! <3

tag list: @miamiya (message me if you want to be included)

Synopsis: Three years has passed since you got your heart broken by your one true love Bokuto Koutarou. A high school reunion is about to take place at Fukurodani Academy. What will happen when you finally meet your ex boyfriend?

MASTERLIST!

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Your eyes scanned the invitation card from your high school. Reading every word that’s written. A high school reunion. The thought alone makes you think of him. Wondering how he’s doing. He may be your ex and the boy who broke your heart, but he was your first and still to this day, your only love, and you knew why he did it. He had his reasons.

He had talked you through it before you both graduated high school. He had told you that he wanted to focus on volleyball and that he was going to move away from Tokyo, and you were not the type to try and stop him. You wanted him to succeed. You also had to think about your future and what you wanted to achieve. Both of you went your separate ways, heartbroken that you could not be together anymore.

Bokuto succeeded in achieving his dream. He was playing in big arenas with huge crowds, on TV and he was a well-known volleyball player. The number 4 ace and captain from Fukurodani made it big, just like he promised you all those years ago.

You sighed and placed the card onto your fridge. There was still one week left until the reunion, and it wasn’t like Bokuto would show up. He was busy with volleyball, especially since a new season just started.

You sigh and turn around to grab the warm coffee cup and head to your couch. Once seated you turn on Netflix and start a random show. Grabbing your phone, you go to the search bar on Facebook and search for your ex-boyfriend. Once the two of you had broken up you had unfriended him immediately. You knew it was going to be hard to get over him, so to save you from having to see his posts and face on Facebook, you removed him.

He’s the first one that pops up. You share mutual friends, so it isn’t that weird. You go to pictures and see him with all sorts of different people, smiling and laughing. Sometimes even looking, upset?

Sighing you close the application, lock your phone, and toss it next to you on the couch. Closing your eyes, you throw your head back against the headrest, hoping and praying that Bokuto doesn’t show up to the reunion.

≫ ----- ≪·•♕•·≫ ----- ≪

Wearing a black evening gown with a front slit, thin shoulder straps, and a pair of black heels you step into the big gymnasium where the rest of all the third years are gathered. A waitress walks up to you with a tray in hand, offering you a welcome drink, probably champagne. You take a glass and nod your thanks. Taking a sip, you sigh and take in your surroundings. People are standing in groups, chatting, and laughing. You see Yamato, Konoha, Haruki, Yukie, and Kaori in the middle. Konoha looks your way and you lock eyes. He smiles widely and waves you over. The rest of the gang turns around and sees you too, all of them start to yell at you to rush over.

You smile at them and head towards the squad.

“(y/n)! you’re here!” Yukie excitedly exclaims.

“Yes. Here I am,” you laugh. “How’s everyone? Haven’t seen you all in ages.”

You stand there talking with everyone. You chug the rest of your glass and turn around to grab another just as a round of applause is heard. You follow everyone’s gaze and see someone enter the gymnasium.

“Hey, hey, heeeeeey!” The voice echoes. A familiar voice.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You chant and shove your champagne glass to Yukie. “I need to use the loo.”

“Wait- (y/n)!” She yells after you, but you’re already headed for the door that leads you towards the nearest toilet.

Your heart is beating hard, you can feel your pulse rising. Adrenaline has kicked in and you feel nervous. You’re breathing heavily as you reach the door, turning around slightly to just peek at the man that has made you react this way.

He hasn’t spotted you yet. He’s surrounded by girls and boys, welcoming their former ace to the reunion. You stand there, the door slightly opened, your body halfway through the doorframe and take him in.

He’s wearing ripped black jeans, a matching black tee, black vans, and a light blue jean jacket. His hair is spiked the same way as usual and his golden eyes are filled with happiness. He laughs loudly and scans the room like he’s looking for someone and then his orbs land on you. The way he gazes at you makes your whole-body shiver and you feel like you can’t breathe. You stand still, watching him watch you for a second more until you turn your body back and go through the door and towards the ladies’ room.

Once inside you stand by the door, back against it, trying to control your breathing.

Okay (y/n), calm down! Act normal and don’t freak out!

After 5 minutes you turn around and push the door and walk out, walking back to the gymnasium. You pass a hallway when suddenly-

“(y/n)?”

“Jesus fucking christ!” You jump. “Don’t scare me like that.” You exclaim and turn around and are met with a pair of golden eyes.

“Ah sorry,” Bokuto speaks, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “I just wanted to see how you were feeling. You rushed out so fast.”

“I’m fine,” you sigh. “I just needed to use the toilet.”

“Oh. Okay.” There’s a long pause. Both of you are silent.

“Bokuto-kun!” A female voice yells out, interrupting the awkward silence and you turn around to see where the female is.

“I should head back. Yukie is probably waiting for me,” you lie. “It was nice seeing you Bokuto,” you smile at him and turn around to leave, but he grabs you by the forearm and pulls you towards him.

“Let’s take a walk around the school. I don’t wanna head back just yet.”

“Bokuto I-“

“Please (y/n)? I haven’t seen you in ages and I just wanna talk.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

“Great,” he smiles. “Let’s go then!” He grabbed your hand instead and intertwined his fingers with yours as he dragged you down the hallway and escaped the voice of the girl that was calling his name.

He suddenly stops outside of your old classroom and you both stand there, panting and trying to control each other’s breathing.

“Felt like a teenager doing that,” he laughs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just need a moment.” Still panting, you stay silent, and watch his tall frame. You stand up straight and clear your throat. Bokuto turns his body sideways and looks at you.

“Do you think it’s open?”

“I don’t know, but what do you wanna talk about Bokuto?” You speak up, wanting to get away from this situation. “We broke up. We’re exes, we’re not supposed to be like this.”

The silence returns, Bokuto’s eyes never leaving yours. You watch him, still out of breath you feel an aching pain in your chest. You fist both of your hands beside your body, tears starting to form in your eyes.

“I- shit,” you curse and let out a small laugh. “I need to leave.” You’re just about to turn around when Bokuto’s right arm slams itself on the wall to your left, stopping you in your tracks. You press your back to the wall and raise your head so you can meet his gaze. His tall frame towering over you.

“Don’t,” he sighs. “Don’t leave.” You don’t listen to his plea and try to leave again but this time he slams his left arm on the wall, caging you in.

“Bokuto. Let me go!”

“No!”

“I- What?”

“I came to this reunion mainly so I could see you,” he pauses before continuing. “I made up my mind that if you came, I would try to get you back, ‘cause I still fucking love you.” His golden eyes stare right into yours. You can see the determination in them.

“The way we broke things off, I should never have ended it that way. We shouldn’t have ended it that way. If I could go back and change it, I would’ve made you come with me. I was stupid to let you go.”

“Bokuto, I-“

“And stop calling me Bokuto!” he fumes. “You never called me that while we were dating and-“

“We’re not dating now!” You respond, interrupting him.

“I know!” He slams his right fist on the wall, making you jump. You have never seen Bokuto this upset before, not even when you broke up.

“I’m sorry. Shit (y/n) I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I-“

“It’s okay, Bo! It’s… fine,” you sigh out that last word. You let your head hang low, watching the ground, seeing how close his body is to you. You gulp, trying to contain your thoughts. You haven’t had any sexual contact with anyone for as long as you can remember, and seeing Bokuto now, here, this close makes you clench your thighs together. But you would not let your sexual desires over him take over. If he wanted you back, he had to tell you, and apologize.

“When I- We broke up I did it because I wanted to focus on volleyball.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Wait, let me finish.” You stay silent and let him continue.

“I wanted you to come with me, I wanted you with me so badly and I thought that I couldn’t let you come with me because I didn’t want you to stop chasing your dreams. Volleyball was my ambition, not yours.” He pauses for a second, collecting his thoughts and breathing before continuing.

“But I was wrong and dumb. I didn’t ask what you wanted, I just assumed and chose for you. I should’ve talked it out with you, asked you if you wanted to come with me and I didn’t. I fucked up,” he takes a deep breath before yet again continuing talking, expressing his emotions.

“Over these past few years, I haven’t been able to let you go. You were always on my mind. You had taken over my head so bad that I started seeing things. Seeing you on the streets, in the audience while I was playing. I never stopped thinking about you. I even stalked your Facebook multiple times and-”

“You stalked my Facebook?” You look up, watching him. Your heart beating fast against your ribcage.

“Yeah, not my proudest moment but I did. I needed to see your face, needed to see what you were doing, and if you were seeing someone. If you were as miserable as I was,” he sighs, his eyes watching yours. “Please (y/n) I am desperate. I want you back. Give me a second chance. I need you back in my life. If you just give me a small chance, I will prove it to you that I will be one of the best decisions you’ll ever make.”

Bokuto sighs out loudly, like he was in pain, and places a kiss on top of your head before sinking so his eyes are in front of yours. His face just mere inches from yours.

“Just give me one chance. Just one so I can have you back. I want you (y/n). I want to be able to call you mine again. I just need one-“

You decide to instead of using words you crash your lips against his. Cutting him off mid-sentence, wrapping your arms around his neck. It only takes Bokuto a few seconds to respond by kissing you back, his body pressing itself close to yours, his forearms bracing him on the wall.

You break off the kiss, bite your lip, and look into his golden shimmering eyes. “I never stopped loving you either.”

“Really? I expected you to have a boyfriend or fiancé by now.”

“No,” you groan. “I tried dating, but nobody compares to you.” He smiles widely at your words. Like a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’ll try to give you everything I can Bo, I’ll try-“

“Everything means nothing if I can’t have you (y/n)!” Blushing you look down, but Bokuto grabs your face in his hands and presses a kiss on your lips again. And again. You fist a handful of his shirt in your palms and press your body close to his, feeling his semi poking you and showing how much he wants you.

“You’re mine, (y/n). I love you so much,” he moans against your lips and then pushes his tongue inside of your mouth. His hands moving to grab your ass, pushing your pelvis against his. “I’m gonna prove it to you. I need you now. No time to waste.”

He pushes himself off you and turns around, trying to open your old classroom door and to his luck it does. His wide smile is back as he ushers you in.

“Wait- Bo! We can’t, not here.”

“Aww c’mon baby, it’ll be fun and besides,” he pauses, still looking at you as he undoes his belt. “I always wanted to fuck you in this classroom back in the day.”

His sentence makes you hurry inside, and you look around the now unfamiliar classroom. You hear Bokuto close and lock the door, the sound of his zipper being pulled down makes you turn around and face him. His pants are undone but still around his hips.

“Come here baby,” obeying, you take a few steps forward and stop once you’re in front of him. Both of his hands grab you by the waist and pull you forward, his lips instantly crashing to yours. His lips don’t stay on yours too long as they start to travel down the side of your neck towards your exposed collarbone. While his lips are giving your upper body some attention, his hands push your dress up, exposing your black lace thong to his fingertips.

Bokuto recognizes the material and stops his movements just so he can peek at your underwear. He grunts.

“Do you… like them?”

“I love them, baby. Jesus Christ.” Bokuto’s lips return to yours, his index and middle finger tracing the outline of your slit, making you squirm. He then removes them and ushers you to get up on one of the desks, and you do, but not before you remove your thong as sexy as you can, and throw it on the ground nearby.

“Babe, you’re gonna be the death of me!” he exclaims in a groan and hurries back to you. His body standing between your thighs. A slight breeze passes making you shudder, your nipples peek through your dress. Bokuto notices this and instantly with both of his hands, he pushes your dress down your arms and chest, making your breast spring free.

“Haven’t touched these girls in years,” he speaks while palming them both. “So beautiful.”

“Bo- I-“

“Shh love. It’s all about you now,” he removes his right hand just so he can tease your opening. Lubricating your core with your wetness before inserting a finger inside you, making you moan and throw your head back.

“Baby. Look at me,” he groans. You pull your head back and watch him. He removes his left hand and places it beside you, bracing all his weight on it while his other hand is occupied with your cunt. His finger going in and out of you, your walls clamping around him tightly. He snickers at how wet you feel around him and adds another finger, his middle and ring finger are fucking you slowly, too slow for your liking.

“Bokuto, please. I want more,” you moan.

“Easy now baby, I wanna savor this moment. Feeling your wet cunt around my fingers after such a long time,” he grunts. “God baby, you’re so wet.”

“I know, it’s all for you Bokuto.”

He licks his lips seductively and leans in closer to you, his breath hits your neck and makes your whole body shudder. His tongue comes out and licks you up from your collarbone to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you let out a sigh in pleasure.

“Do you like that, hmm?” He snickers. “Do you like my fingers inside you (y/n)?”

“Y-Yes Bo, I-I love them,” you moan. He lets out a slight “fuck” as he rests his forehead on your shoulder and thrusts his digits harder inside your wet and aching core. Wanting you to cum so badly. He arches his fingers inside you, making them hit your g-spot.

“Bo, please. I’m so close,” you groan. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You keep on whining to him, the once familiar feeling returning to the pit of your stomach. The pressure in your lower abdomen is getting higher and higher. Your legs start to shake and in just a couple of seconds, you’re releasing yourself around his fingers, your right-hand wraps itself around his wrist, nails digging into his soft skin as you moan out loudly from orgasming.

“Kou!” you scream, your walls clamping themselves around him, his fingers still going in and out of you, your legs shaking and your pelvis grinding itself on his hand. Eyes closed and mouth wide open and panting, trying to get your breathing under control.

After a minute, you open your eyes and are met by a smug smile as he removes his fingers and raises his hand to his lips, licking your juices off his fingers while still maintaining eye contact with you.

“I missed the taste of you baby,” he groans. His long fingers going inside that beautiful mouth of his. A big smile on his lips, his excitement palpable.

Once he has licked his fingers clean, he moves his hands to his pants and starts to pull them down his long legs along with his briefs, his cock springing free and colliding with his lower abdomen. Precum leaking from the tip.

Your eyes are glued on his hard member. It’s as beautiful as you remember, two veins going around his shaft, the pink head craving attention.

Your eyes never leave his crotch as his hand goes down and wraps itself around his hard cock, moving up and down slowly.

“You’re so eager, I love it baby, so sexy when you look at me like that,” his voice speaks, making you look up and meet his golden eyes. He takes a small step forward and with his hand that’s around his cock he traces your lips, mixing his precum with your wetness.

“Wait Kou- Condom!” You moan. The fact that you managed to even utter those words surprised you, but you didn’t know who he’s been with.

“I didn’t bring one,” he answers. “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you instead,” he groans and rams himself inside you. Your walls clenching around him tightly. Your heat making his cock twitch from excitement.

“Fuck Kou, you- you feel amazing.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. I can feel you pulsating around me.” He’s still for a moment, letting you get used to him. Had he gotten bigger since you last were with him? Or had it just been such a long time since you’ve had sex? It didn’t matter to you, you loved the feeling of him stretching your walls, making your tight cunt ache for him to move.

His hips backtrack only to force themself back to you, colliding and hitting your g-spot, making you throw your head back and grip the edge of the table hard. Your eyes are closed as you take in all the pleasure that he’s giving you. He repeats the same action, he grunts and you moan at the friction.

“Baby look at me,” he moans, his hand going to your cheek, holding it with his large palm. “I want you to look at me.”

You answer him by moaning, opening your (y/e/c) eyes looking at him, pleasure displayed on his handsome face as he starts to increase both his speed and the power of his thrusts. His hips colliding against yours with a strong force. The pleasure is displayed on your face, a lewd look as you’re loving the way he continues to ram himself inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum inside of that pretty cunt, baby. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he moans loudly, not caring if anyone hears him. He loved the excitement of knowing you could get busted having sex in your old classroom but he didn’t care. He had craved you for 3 long years and he wasn’t going to let this moment pass up.

“I want a future with you,” he continues. “I want to marry you. I want to get you pregnant.”

This makes your cunt clench for him. Your walls clamping themselves tightly around him. Marrying him? Pregnant?

"Oh, you'd like that baby? You want me to breed you, baby?" His thrust hits hard, his cock going deep into your core. His eyes travel down, watching his cock going and out of you. The wetness surrounding it like lube, making it easy for him to thrust in and out of you. His gaze is locked on where both of you connect, watching the way your cunt swallows him whole.

"Fuck baby. Beg for me to fill you, I know you love the feel of my cum inside you."

"Oh god Kou, please fill me with your cum. Breed me," you almost sing. Your voice is filled with all kinds of emotions, pleasure consuming you.

"You want me to breed you, baby? Fill you up with all my sperm," he moans, his hands holding your hips in place as his thrusts got deeper and deeper inside you. The tip of his cock grazing your g-spot viciously, the pressure in your abdomen getting stronger after each thrust. The thought of you swollen with his child made him even harder and closer to reaching his climax.

"Cum for me baby, I want you to cum for me. Cum with me. I'm so close," his thrusts get sloppier and you know he is near his release.

"Cum with me Koutarou. Let's do it together."

"Fuck (y/n)," his whole body stills as he ejaculates inside you. The warmth of his semen spurting in you, coating your walls and you follow him soon afterward. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you coat his cock with your release.

Your body is shaking from the intense orgasm you just had, your teeth biting into your lower lip and you feel him move, his still hard cock going in and out of you. Bokuto is making sure that his cum doesn’t come out, to make sure you’re bred and hoping you get pregnant from this.

"Mhm Kou," you moan. Your eyes glance up to his face. A big smile was plastered on his lips.

"That was so hot baby. I want more."

"I don't think I can stand," you giggle. His eyes are watching you, the smile on your face making his heart squeeze harder and being filled with all his love for you.

"What now?" Your tender voice asks.

"I'm waiting."

"... On what?"

"For you to calm down before I go for round two,” he smirks.

“W-Wait. Hold on. Round two?”

“You didn’t think I was already finished with you, baby? I’m just getting started.” With that being said, he flips you over. The action making his cock get pulled out from your heat.

You’re bent over and your front is pressed against the now warm desk. His hands start to caress your body, from the base of your neck to your naked ass. He gives your ass some attention before slapping each cheek, making you jump from the sudden action.

"I could just cum from the sight of you," he grunts. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, to make sure you're bred."

"Kou-tarou~," you moan as he enters you without warning, his cock rock hard and coated in both your juices and his semen. His hands holding your hips still as he thrusts deep inside you. Ramming his cock hard into your wet and tight core. His fingertips are digging hard into your flawless skin, leaving a mark but you don’t care. The only thing that’s going through your mind right now is the way his cock is pounding into your wet and swollen cunt.

"I won't stop until you're dripping with my cum, to be sure you're pregnant with my child," he almost screams. "Jesus fuck baby the way you clench around me is wonderful."

Your cunt clenches harder around his cock, the thought of being pregnant with his child makes you reach some kind of bliss that you never thought you could. The soft image pops up in your mind for a second, but it’s soon gone as one of his hands grabs your shoulder, his other following suit.

You can feel his semen leaking out as he continues to ram into you, and you know he notices it cause he lets out a snicker.

"My cum is seeping out of your pussy, but I'll fill you up again baby. I'll fill you up again and again."

"Kou- I'm gonna cum again," you moan. Your left hand holding the edge of the desk while your right one is in front of you, trying to grab something and it does as Bokuto's right hand comes forward and intertwines with yours, clamping around it. His body pressed against yours. Feeling his breath on your neck.

"Say it, baby, say what I want to hear."

"P-Put a baby inside me Koutarou please."

"Fuck yes," he moans vocally, biting down on your neck as he fills your cunt with his cum, the feel of his cum inside you again makes you clench around him and you reach your climax.

"Yeah, my cum makes you orgasm so fucking hard right baby?"

"Mhm," you answer, too worn out to even form your own words.

You press the side of your face on the desk and close your eyes. You're breathing heavily, so is Bokuto. His warm breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps form on all of your body.

"(y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm getting soft."

"Oh my god!" You giggle.

"Stop. You're making me fall out, stop it!" This makes you laugh out loud, this man who just minutes ago went all sex god on you is now filled with concern.

"Are you alright though? I wasn't too hard? Or rough? Or-"

"Baby, you were perfect," you answer in a giggle, interrupting his worrying self.

There's a comfortable silence surrounding you both, not a single word is uttered. The only sound is the sound of your breathing.

Suddenly you feel him move and pull himself out of you. Bokuto is fast with tucking himself inside his briefs and pulling his pants up, buckling his belt too. While doing this, you feel his cum seeping out from your hole.

"Hold on I'm on it," his voice speaks and you can hear him look for something to clean you up with. "This will do."

He's back fast and with some paper towels that are not very nice to your lady parts, and he cleans you up. The feeling of the paper made you wince, both from being sensitive and roughly fucked by your ex and now boyfriend, but also from the paper not being soft enough for your liking.

"I'm done, there," he softly speaks, his voice filled with tenderness but also worry, that it was hurting you. He wasn't. He was doing something so much more, and you loved him for that.

Getting up and getting dressed was the part where it got uncomfortable for you, his eyes stared at you as you dressed, fixing both your gown and hair, making it not look like you’ve just been fucked.

Your thoughts wander to what had just happened. Was this just some kind of roleplay or did he want to impregnate you? Not that it mattered for you, you couldn’t care less because you got what you had wanted for years. Him.

Once you’re done you turn around and see that Bokuto is already watching you, a big smile on his lips.

"What?"

"Nothing. You’re just so beautiful I can stare at you all night.”

"I-" you blush. “Thank you.”

"Now,” he says as he takes a small step forward and grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. His smile still there and you can see how his eyes are glowing.

“I love you,” he kisses you. “I love you so much (y/n). You’re the love of my life.”

"Again."

"Huh?" He turns his head to the side, not knowing what you mean.

"Say it again. I need to hear it again." With confidence, he grabs your face in his hands and holds you in place. His eyes watching yours and with the softest smile on his lips, he says:

"I love you.”

"I love you too." You sigh in happiness and he seals your lips with a passionate kiss. Both of you smiling through the kiss in pure bliss.

He pulls away and grabs your hand and starts to lead you out of the classroom and in the opposite direction of the party. Confusion consumes you as you speak.

"Kou, baby. The party is that way," you giggle and point down the other side of the hall.

"I know. We're not returning."

"We're not?" You ask in confusion.

"No."

"Why not?" He stops in his tracks and you collide with his rock hardback. He turns around, smirking.

"We have 3 years of lovemaking to do and I want you in my bed when doing that." He returns and walks you out and into the parking lot, leading to his car and a future of you and him together again. Nothing could stop you now.

#haikyuu!!#bokuto koutarou #haikyuu!! smut #hqhq server collab #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #sanda writes #my writing #smut

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purple-babygirl · 3 years

Note

Bestie bestie, thoughts- daddy! Bucky and little reader cooking together is making my heart melt fr💖 ugh! Like imagine her getting him like a chef hat 🥺 one of those white floppy ones 😭😭 or like they both get matching aprons. Ugh.

Pairing: Chubby!Pâtissier!Daddy!Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 1,404

Warnings: ddlg dynamics, it's all fluff.

A/N: I don't know what you did but i was looking up matching aprons after i saw your ask and boom 💥 pastry chef Bucky thots 💥 attacked me and for that I thank you:"💜💜💜 So here we are. I'm sorry if I took too long and made you feel like I was ignoring your ask, I definitely wasn't💜💜💜 It was just really cute it got my mind going so thank you so very much🥺💜💜 Please enjoy xx.

Pie credit.

heavenly sweet

“Daddy.” She turned around, giving Bucky her back, and he could only smile bigger when he saw the way she was bouncing on her ankles in excitement.

Bucky bow-tied her apron for her, lightly patting her back, “there you go, lil chef,” before pawing at her sides until she giggled.

“Thank you, daddy.” She beamed, letting Bucky help her up on the kitchen counter.

It was a special day for her today. She and Daddy were wearing their matching aprons for the first time, and Bucky was showing her how to make one of her favourites, blueberry pie.

Bucky didn’t get the chance to tell her yet, but the matching aprons gesture had him even crazier in love with her. The way she closely watched his reaction as he'd opened his gift and the way she was over the moon when he’d showed his content with it would forever be engraved in his mind next to all of the other precious memories starring her beautiful eyes.

“Okay, so we have our flour over there,” Bucky pointed to the half-full bag, “eggs and butter too,” he checked, walking closer to her, “and my sugar right here.” Bucky planted his hands on the counter, trapping her between them as he dropped his head to kiss, kitten-lick, and nibble on her jaw.

“Dada!” She squeal-giggled, her hands on Bucky’s round belly as he stood over her.

“Look at you, bonbon! You look like a real chef already! You doing the baking today? Hmm?” Bucky joked, peppering kisses on her face, his hands holding her waist.

“No, jus’ helping daddy,” she giggled more, hiding her face in Bucky’s chest, making him chuckle.

“The best help daddy could get, bonbon.” He kissed the top of her head with a satisfied smile.

There was nothing she loved more than watching Daddy work. With his hair pulled back into a small bun, his apron around his full torso, different smudges covering it, and his forearms having the littlest smear of flour on them, Bucky looked like art to her. The way he went about everything he was doing to make her feel included and the way he stole kiss after kiss from her when she was focused. Not to forget how sweet his kisses always were. It was all so perfect. She cherished every moment she got to spend with him, each one better than the last as Daddy made her the best treats that ever existed.

“Now, what do we do, bonbon?” Bucky quizzed playfully, wiping a hand down his apron so he could put the hair that escaped the bun back behind his ear.

“We put in our blueberries!” She replied, her hands eagerly reaching for the bowl of macerated fruit.

“Oh my god,” Bucky looked at her, faking shock and shaking his head.

“Did I say something wrong, daddy?” her voice went small so fast, immediately searching her mind, trying to remember if something went in before the berries.

“I might wanna slow down with teaching you or else next thing I know you’ll be taking over daddy’s bakery, bonbon!” Bucky chuckled, teasingly pecking her cheek.

She laughed with him when he tapped her nose, internally sighing in relief.

He was such a charmer and she was head over heels for him, “’m so proud of you, bonbon.” Bucky kissed her forehead.

“Daddy, can I put them in?” she patted her eyelashes, her hands in place on Bucky’s tummy and he couldn’t help but peck her lips.

“You sure can, lil chef," he said and she grinned at the name he'd started to use, wanting to earn it.

“Here, lemme help you, baby.” Bucky smiled, taking the bowl and holding it for her while she used a spatula to scoop the contents out and into their pie pan.

She was so happy they were doing this together. She was always at her most peaceful state of mind when Bucky would take her to the kitchen with him. Watching him work so passionately was her little self’s own version of bliss. Bucky had the softest aura about him. He was the kindest, most beautiful and most loving Daddy she could’ve ever dreamed of having, and her little heart vowed to appreciate every second with him, every second of him.

“Wait, dada, leave some. Wanna taste.” She stopped Bucky’s hand from slopping the bowl further so the rest of the fruits would fall out.

Bucky, of course, listened to her at once, giving her the bowl to hold on her apron-covered lap as he grabbed her a spoon.

She loved having a taste of the leftovers. Sometimes Bucky would catch her licking cake dough off the bowl in the bakery kitchen and no matter how many times he’d tell her it wasn’t healthy, because the eggs in the batter were raw, she’d still be licking that dough the second he’d turn his back. Bucky loved her too much to be stern with her, so he’d just make sure he was always there, moving the bowl to the sink after being done with it and laughing at her cute pout when she’d see it fill with water as Daddy rinsed it.

Bucky shook the pan to evenly distribute the berries on the surface, adoringly grinning at her attempts to catch a berry that wouldn’t roll and slide off the spoon. She eventually managed to scoop some, moaning when she slid the spoon in her mouth. Bucky’s food always tasted so good she was in love.

“Good, baby?” Bucky licked his lips, wiping his palms on his apron again.

“So good, dada.” She nodded, indulging herself with another spoon of pie filling.

“Give daddy a taste, bonbon,” he asked lowly and she held her spoon up for him, trying not to spill.

Bucky smiled gently, taking the spoon and bowl from her and setting them aside.

She didn’t have time to be confused before he was kissing her, his tongue sliding in to taste hers. Her eyes closed as a surprised moan got out only to be swallowed by Bucky.

She tasted like her with a hint of blueberries, so sweet; so delicious. Bucky’s hands cradled her face as he deepened the kiss, not able to get enough of her flavor, her soft lips or the tiny sounds leaving them. Her smaller hands settled on his chubby tummy, before sliding to his sides to hold him close, slightly clutching his apron.

Their mouths parted, the need for oxygen kind of forcing Bucky away though he still gave her lips a couple of short kisses as he tried to take his breath, his forehead resting on hers.

“So good indeed,” Bucky chuckled breathlessly and her face felt hot, her nose shyly nuzzling Daddy’s cheek to hide.

“Hey, look at me,” Bucky’s voice was so velvety and soft as his fingers brought her face back to his, “I love you, bonbon,” Bucky said, his blue eyes enchanting hers and she could only see, hear, smell and feel him.

Bucky was gorgeous. His tall frame towering over hers, making her feel safe. His pink lips wearing a tender smile that was only designed for her. His cologne surrounding her and filling her chest with warmth. His belly soft and full under her palms. His hair a little out of place as a few strands had slipped out of the bun and refused to stay behind his ear. He was flawless and he was her Daddy.

“I love you, daddy,” she returned with a timid smile.

Her hand went up to slide Bucky’s soft hair back behind his ear, stealing his heart all over again when she cupped his cheek and pressed a tiny kiss to his lips.

With her hand still holding the side of his face and her face tilted upwards, she then started telling Daddy what they had to do next, talking about covering the filling using the remaining pie dough and such, wanting Bucky to be proud of her. And he was, though he wasn’t hearing a word she was saying, he was the proudest.

As he watched her lips move and her hands gesture, Bucky could only think he’d gone to heaven because that must’ve been the only correct name for what he was experiencing in her angelic presence.

Of all the sweet things he's ever tasted, she was his one, true addiction and Bucky was gladly hooked.

Tags: @harrysthiccthighss, @tinystudentfirepurse, @lavendercitizen

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butterflyyeo · 3 years

Text

drunk in love

pairing - yeosang x fem reader

genre - fluff, angst (?)

tw - lots of alcohol consumption, swearing

wc - 10k

side ships - seongjoong, yungi

a/n -- was meant to be angst but turned into fluff... im trying my best to get better at writing angst aaaah. but please enjoy this for now <3 thanks for letting me tag you @iminchaosnow !!

------------------------------------------- you had known kang yeosang for nearly two years now. two, dreadfully slow and exhausting years.it was your final year of high school when he transferred to your school, he was a close family friend of wooyoung's. his parents had spoken highly of the school, insisting that yeosang transfers in order to excel for his last year of schooling. as far as you were concerned, he had decent grades, but he preferred to spend his time hanging around the skatepark after dark, when everyone else had left.

and in all the two years you'd known him, you had never once had a full conversation with him, despite being in your group of friends. his side of the 'conversation' usually consisted of monotonous 'yeahs' and 'mhms'. wooyoung constantly assured you it was because he's shy and that he'd eventually open up. but you weren't convinced. you tried so hard for him to like you, but your efforts were fruitless. it was infuriating, feeling like you were constantly doing something wrong whenever you were around him.

you currently found yourself in the backseat of yeosang's car, wedged between a drunken yunho and mingi while a chaotic wooyoung was singing along to his chosen playlist. (though, it sounded more like wailing.)

you and the eight boys had all decided to take a gap year, spend every last cent you earned on adventure and alcohol to make lifelong memories, before your careers became a blockade in your friendship. but the year was coming to an end soon, it was already mid november. on the bright side, that meant your favourite holidays were just weeks away.

yeosang was always the designated driver. that was something you had noticed about him over the last few years. to be honest, you weren't sure just how he coped with a screeching wooyoung, because you sure as hell weren't dealing very well with yunho and mingi who were playing a very intense game of rock paper scissors to decide who would be crashing on the couch in your apartment.

"i win!" mingi cheered, waving his hands excitedly. "you're on the couch, man."

yunho frowned, "damn."

you laughed, "it's okay, yunho. you can share the bed with me if you'd like."

"hey! that's not fair y/n! you said i could this time." wooyoung whined from the front seat.

"sorry, woo. you know i keep my promises, but you're going back to your apartment. remember?" you tried to reason.

wooyoung looked as though someone had switched a lightbulb on behind his eyes, "oh yeah! i forgot."

the four of you burst into laughter, mainly caused by the alcohol and partially because of wooyoung's realisation. and still, yeosang didn't crack a smile, hands just gripping the steering wheel tighter as his knuckles turned white.

soon, you arrived outside your apartment block, quickly stepping out the car after yunho. wooyoung wound his window down and you poked your head in, attempting to hug him goodbye.

"bye woo!" you said, giggling at your faltered farewell.

"good night y/n, thanks for the drinks!" he shouted, exclaiming a bit too loudly next to your ear.

"thanks for the lift as always, yeosang!" you yelled, pulling away from wooyoung's tight hug.

he nodded, "no problem." before putting the window up and driving away.

you pouted, turning around to face the two boys. "i just don't understand what i'm doing wrong." you buried your face into your hands, "why doesn't he like me?" you groaned.

"y/n." mingi began, "its nearly 1am, its way too late for this 'why does yeosang hate me?' crap." he shook your shoulders, literally trying to shake some sense into you.

"yeah, mingi's right. we've had this discussion a thousand times." yunho said grasping your wrist and pulling you up the stairs, stumbling along the way. (because lets be real, stairs are difficult enough as it is, let alone when drunk.) "now, let us into your apartment so we can eat your food and crash on your couch!" he joked, nudging mingi in a playful manner.

you reached into your pocket and fumbled around with they key for a moment before unlocking the door. the boys practically pushed you inside and made a beeline for the fridge.

"help yourselves! i'm going to shower." you called, dragging yourself to your bedroom.

once you'd finished showering you went back to the living room to check on yunho and mingi. not so much to your surprise, they had fallen asleep on your couch already, cuddled up into each other. it was cute, even picture worthy to show their sober selves. you reached for your phone which typically lived in your pocket, though you began to panic when it wasn't there. hurrying around the apartment, you searched every possible nook and cranny for your phone, but it was nowhere to be found. you collapsed onto your bed, snuggling into the soft sheets, too tired to worry about your phone anymore and content with the assumption that you'd left it in yeosang's car.

shortly, your heavy eyes fell shut and you began to sleep away the tequila.

————————

the next morning you awoke to mingi and yunho's deep, hungover voices, discussing their plans for the next week.

you reluctantly pulled yourself out of bed and dawdled down the hallway.

"ah! there's our favourite karaoke partner!" yunho greeted, jokingly.

you laughed, "shh, don't let wooyoung hear you say that."

"she's right, man. he'd be so offended." mingi said, stretching out his sore limbs. "how are you feeling today, y/n?" he asked.

"not the worst hangover i've had. what about you guys? you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, until you feel better." you replied, knowing them well enough to know that they'd need at least a few painkillers and a good meal before they went home.

yunho chuckled, "i feel like crap, but nothing a sandwich and glass of water can't solve."

"i second that." mingi said, raising a hand.

"okay, well in that case, i'll go to the store and get something for breakfast. sound good?" you reasoned, running a hand through your hair. you loved these boys, and making them breakfast was just a nice way of showing you cared. drunk or not, they knew how to make you smile and laugh, which they loved to see.

"sounds amazing!" yunho said, breaking into a sincere smile.

you quickly changed out of your pyjamas and slipped some shoes on.

"i might be a bit longer, i need to stop by yeosang's. i think i left my phone in his car." you explained, picking your keys up from the kitchen counter. "see you guys soon! feel free to take a shower if you want." you said, waving goodbye and heading out the door.

"okay, bye y/n!" the boys called from behind you.

the first stop was yeosang's apartment, he only lived about ten minutes away with wooyoung and san, in the same building as jongho. both yunho and mingi lived on the other side of town, which is why they so often crashed at your place after parties. seonghwa and hongjoong were fortunate enough to live in a house, just outside town, they had actually been the hosts of last night's party.

it didn't take long to get there. you pushed open the lobby door and made your way over to the elevator, disappointed to see that it was out of order for maintenance. instead, you took the stairs and began spiralling upwards. less than a minute later you looked up, only to bump into the man you came looking for.

"oh, yeosang! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to." you quickly apologised, worried about creating another reason for him to dislike you.

"it's fine." he shrugged.

you both began to talk again at the same time, "ah, sorry, you go."

"i was just gonna say, you left your phone in my car. actually, i was about to bring it back." he pulled your phone from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to you. as he did, your fingers brushed against his. he spun around suddenly and began to walk away, "i'll see you around."

he had left before you even had a chance to thank him. slightly confused and frustrated, you turned back around and traipsed down the stairs.

you gathered what you needed for a hearty breakfast at the local convenience store before heading home and spending the rest of the day in the enjoyable company of yunho and mingi.

yeosang had entered back into his apartment and sat down on the couch.

"back already?" wooyoung asked, rummaging through the fridge.

"she was coming to get her phone and i ran into her on the staircase."

wooyoung sighed, "when are you gonna stop hating her?"

"i don't hate her." yeosang said, not looking up from his phone.

"then why do you act like you do?"

yeosang pretended to not hear that question and continued to scroll through his phone. see, he'd rather not dwell on things that he couldn't understand.

————————

to fill up your weekdays during your gap year, you had picked up a job at a hotel in town as a receptionist. to your dismay, your boss had asked you to work night shift all week, which is how you found yourself here on thursday night, sitting alert and waiting for the slight chance that someone might check in at this time of night. it was a pretty fancy hotel, and the job payed well enough, so really, you had nothing to complain about.

the nights seemed to drag on for an eternity. to keep yourself busy, you often wasted time counting the cars that drove past, or tried to count the number of crystals that hung from the chandelier. so far, only a few people had checked in during your shift, having come from overseas and recently arriving at the airport. honestly, whenever someone walked through the front door, lugging a suitcase behind them, you got excited as it gave you something to do.

the clock was creeping up to 4am and you let out a quiet yawn, feeling drowsy as your body clock hadn't yet adjusted to the change of sleeping patterns on such short notice. taking a sip of water, you shook your head, trying to stay awake. your head suddenly jolted up at the sound of the front door opening.

a man stumbled forward, and you'd seen enough zombie movies to become instantly paranoid. you quickly pushed the thought out of your head, feeling ridiculous for even considering it. but as the man got closer, you could smell the cheap, potent alcohol lingering on his body.

he leant against the desk, peering down at you. "i need a room for the night." he grumbled. "my stupid wife kicked me out." he said under his breath.

you forced a friendly smile, despite feeling uneasy, "of course! i just need you to fill in this form with some simple details." you said, sliding across a clipboard and a pen.

he huffed, picking up the pen and scribbling onto the sheet of paper before pushing it back to you. "can i go now?"

"just a moment, sir." you replied, eyes skimming over the form as you copied the information into the computer in front of you.

the man was growing impatient, stepping from foot to foot with his arms crossed.

"uh, sir, you missed a part of the form. could you please provide your phone number here." you pointed to the empty space on the sheet.

"for fucks sake." he muttered, "i don't have my phone on me and i don't know my phone number." he said, annoyedly tapping on the desk.

"i'm really sorry, sir, but—"

"can't you just find me a fucking room?" he snapped, hands balled into fists and slamming against the desk, making you jump in fright.

before you had time to try and reason with him, he continued to shout.

"you're as stupid as my wife! i'll just find a different fucking hotel." he yelled, swiping the clipboard and pen off the desk. "useless bitch." he mumbled as he kicked over a chair on his way out.

you chewed your bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears. with shaky hands, you picked up your phone and dialled the first place that came to mind. after a few rings, the phone answered.

"woo?" you croaked, trying hard to not cry.

"he's asleep. this is yeosang." he replied, evidently having just woken up by the sound of his voice.

"oh." you began, instantly feeling guilty for waking him up, "i'm sorry i didn't mean to disturb you."

"did you need something?" he asked.

"i just, i was..." you let out a sob, wiping at a tear falling from your eye.

this didn't go unnoticed by yeosang, "are you crying? what are you doing awake right now anyway?"

"i'm at work." you managed to choke out.

"at 4am?"

"i'm on night shift."

"why are you crying then?" he asked, feeling something slightly tug at his heart, but choosing to ignore it.

you began to ramble, "a man came in and he was really drunk and complaining about his wife and then he yelled at me because i asked him to give his phone number and—"

"i'm on my way." yeosang cut you off.

"what?"

"i'll be there in ten." with that, he hung up the phone.

exactly ten minutes later, you were sat in the passenger seat of yeosang's car. he was dressed in sweats, clearly having come straight from bed. you'd left a note on the desk, explaining to your coworker why you wouldn't be there when she arrived to take over your shift. a silence filled the car, and you felt the need to talk, but chose not to, worried about giving yeosang another reason to hate you.

once you arrived outside your apartment building, you were surprised that yeosang got out the car too and trailed closely behind you up the stairs to your apartment. when you reached the door you spun around to face him.

"thank you for bringing me home." you said, voice quiet and still rather shaken up.

"it's no problem. good night, y/n." he replied, sensing that you were still upset. he suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you tightly and not let go until you stopped crying. he wanted to protect you from every drunk idiot on the planet. he wanted to make you feel safe.

but instead, he watched as you closed the door behind you and locked it from inside.

————————

you arrived at work the next morning, instantly feeling more comfortable with cleaners, employees and people coming and going. immediately, you headed for your boss's office.

"good morning, sir. i just wanted to come and apologise for leaving my shift early last night. i can assure you it won't happen again." you said, feeling nervous as to what your boss might say.

he shook his head, "i should be the one apologising, a man came in this morning and spoke very sternly about the safety problems here. i realise now how stupid it was of me to make you work night shift, alone, at such a young age. we've hired security guards and have also made sure that two people will be on desk at all times. i'm sorry that you had to deal with that."

you were at a loss for words, you didn't think that there would be such drastic changes just from the once incident. "thank you so much." you replied.

"for now, take the rest of the day off. you'll only be working day shifts for next week and can return to doing night shifts whenever you feel ready to do so." your boss said, motioning for the door.

the rest of the day you spent in deep sleep, catching up on some much overdue rest.

———————

weeks passed and you found that work was much more enjoyable. you still hadn't returned to working night shifts, but at least now you had someone to run the front desk with you and keep you company.

this weekend, you were going to visit hongjoong and seonghwa. hongjoong was sick and so you decided to go help out since seonghwa couldn't always be there to look after him.

you knocked on their front door and was surprised to be greeted by san.

"good afternoon! come in." he gave you a hug before ushering you inside.

"what are you doing here?" you said, following him down the hall.

in the living room, you saw all eight of the boys gathered around a couch-ridden hongjoong.

"jongho was already here when me, yeosang and woo arrived." san explained.

"yeah, and then mingi and yunho turned up." wooyoung continued.

"y/n! i have never been more glad to see you! you gotta save me from them." hongjoong laughed, arms open, signalling for a hug.

you went over and embraced him in a hug, "good thing i brought an excessive amount of cookies." you said, placing the box of cookies on the coffee table next to the couch. the table was covered in empty mugs and bowls, you could tell seonghwa had been busy and hadn't had the chance to clean up. you opened up the box and handed him a cookie before offering them around to the rest of the boys.

"you're the best cook ever." mingi said, taking a big bite.

"i made you spaghetti last night!" yunho countered, feeling offended that his roommate didn't think he was the better cook. mingi just laughed and took another bite.

"jongho get off the counter, please." seonghwa said, coming through the front door. "don't be so comfortable, you were throwing up in my toilet like a month ago." he joked.

yeosang glanced your way, his eyebrows furrowed like he was contemplating something.

"lets head off and give these two some space." yunho said, dragging mingi behind him.

wooyoung stood up, "yeah, lets get going."

yeosang pulled his keys from his pocket, "okay, bye guys." he said, heading down the hallway.

"can we get some food on the way home?" you heard san call as they left.

"bye hongjoong! i hope you're feeling better soon." jongho said, "bye seonghwa, i promise i won't throw up in your toilet any time soon." he joked, leaving through the front door.

"seonghwa, how are you? don't forget to take some time for yourself as well." you frowned.

"i'm tired, but i'll be okay. i just gotta clean up and—"

"why don't you go rest a while? i can keep hongjoong company for a few hours." you reasoned, wanting to help as much as possible. there was nothing you hated more than seeing you friends in distress and upset.

he looked between hongjoong and yourself, "i couldn't."

hongjoong let out an audible huff, "hwa! will you just let her help please, she clearly wants to."

you grinned, "exactly, now go read or sleep or watch some tv or something." you said, gently pushing him towards their shared bedroom.

you spent the afternoon tidying up and talking with hongjoong. you managed to do all the dishes and put them away before scouring their kitchen, deciding on what you could use for dinner. you found everything you needed for a decent meal and began cooking it up. hongjoong had dozed off mid conversation, surrounded in a pile of tissues, you chose to let him sleep so he would recover quicker.

about an hour later, you placed two steamy hot meals onto their dining table next to two full glasses of water. you quietly knocked on their bedroom door, finding seonghwa asleep amongst the covers.

you gently shook him awake, "hwa, i made dinner for you guys. you can wake joong up, i'll head off now." you said with a smile.

leaving the two of them to enjoy their dinner, you headed home and cooked yourself something to eat. it was nice having some time to yourself, but saturday nights were becoming more and more empty as winter grew closer. december was only days away and the year would soon come to an end. you reached for the phone, suddenly desperately missing your friends despite only seeing them hours ago.

"hey woo, are you free next weekend?" you asked.

he paused a moment, "i think so, why?"

"you wanna go out with the others? it's been a while since we have all caught up for drinks."

"count me in!" wooyoung cheered.

you called everyone else up and they all agreed, even hongjoong promised to come if he was feeling better.

————————

you found yourself surrounded by wooyoung, san, yunho and mingi as the music blared. it was a less popular club on the far side of town but it was a comfortable place for you all. you often came here for drinks and the staff members knew you, quite well, a little too well. san grabbed your hand and spun you around a few times with the music.

you laughed, leaning against him, "maybe spinning around isn't the best idea right after two shots of vodka."

"what?" san yelled into your ear, struggling to hear you over the music.

you laughed louder, pulling him closer to you, "i said, spinning is not a good idea after drinking vodka!"

"oh!" he joined you in laughing before trying to twirl you around once more.

hongjoong and seonghwa sat at the bar, holding hands and being intimate as always. yeosang was sat next to jongho at a booth, quietly talking with him, but from the corner of your eye, you saw jongho stand up and walk away. your eyes watched him worriedly and you couldn't help but run after him. you followed him as best you could, stumbling every now and then. he'd gone to the bathroom so you patiently waited outside until he came back, looking slightly pale.

you practically leapt at him, doing a quick scan to make sure he was okay, "jongho? are you alright?"

he smiled at your overwhelming concern, "yeah, i just drank too much as usual. i'll be alright, you can go back to dancing."

"let me just get you some water first. i'll be right back okay?" you patted his shoulder. "don't go anywhere i'll be back in a second."

you made your way back to where jongho had been sitting with yeosang. as you approached, yeosang eyed you up and down, taking in your drunken state, though, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you this way. you nearly tripped as you reached the table, struggling to walk in heels.

"i need a glass of water, do you have a glass of water? jongho needs a glass of water." you mumbled to yourself, reaching for the jug in the center of the table.

"are you okay?" yeosang asked, quickly pushing your hand away from the jug.

"i'm okay, but jongho needs water. can i take this cup? he's waiting for me, i told him not to go anywhere, i need to get back to jongho—" you tried to pick up a glass but yeosang pressed your hand back down once more.

"i'll take it to him, you stay here." he said, filling the cup full with water and heading towards the bathrooms.

your brain suddenly felt fuzzy and your eyes became blurry, it was like the alcohol hit your system all at once. your head spun round and round and you leaned forward, resting your hands on your head. you'd never felt this sick from drinking, maybe you'd had too much too quickly, maybe it was the spinning. there was no way to tell, all you knew was that you felt like you were about to fall from the top of a very high roller coaster.

your eyes felt increasingly heavy, you allowed them to slip shut, head falling to the table with a not so gentle thud.

"y/n?" someone shook you, "y/n wake up!" it was wooyoung.

"shit, is she okay? should we call an ambulance?" jongho said, reaching for his phone.

"is she breathing? has anyone checked?" seonghwa gently lifted your shoulders and sat you upright, relieved to see the rise and fall of your chest. "we should call a taxi and get her home."

"are you crazy? she's unconscious, she won't be able to get up the stairs to her apartment! what if the driver is dodgy? she's already had to deal with shitty men while working night shift, imagine if something happened while she's drunk!" yeosang blurted out. the boys were shocked over his sudden concern for you. yeosang had never once shown any interest or care for you in the presence of them.

"well, what should we do then?" mingi asked, worriedly running a hand through his hair.

"i'll take her, you've all been drinking." yeosang concluded. "she'll be fine, don't worry. enjoy the rest of your night, okay? i've dealt with woo passing out before remember?"

"that's true." san said, throwing a light hearted glare in wooyoung's direction, who showed a rather sheepish expression.

the boys went back to their drinks, taking it a little slower now and yeosang carried you to his car. it wasn't easy, but he managed to sit you upright in the back seat of his car with his rear view mirror aimed directly at you so he could make sure you were okay.

he was able to lift you up the stairs and get your house key from the pocket of your jacket, which would've looked questionable to anyone else, but he had the best intentions. he sat you down in a dining chair, watching as your head lolled forward and your body slumped. he quickly filled a glass of water and came back to you.

"y/n." he whispered, resting a hand on your shoulder. "y/n." he said again, louder this time.

the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but you weren't waking up and that was becoming concerning. he shook your shoulder, as gently as he possible could in a moment like this, and to his relief, your eyes hesitantly opened.

your head felt like a bowling ball and you groaned quietly. "yeosang?"

"here." he said holding the cup to your lips, allowing you to take a small sip.

"how did we get here?" you mumbled, head rolling to the side.

he caught your head and carefully pushed you back upright, "i drove you, this is your apartment."

"oh." you said, eyes drooping shut again. "oh." you repeated.

"y/n, i really need you to stay awake right now." he said, bringing the cup to your mouth again. "lets talk."

"we never talk!" you exclaimed. "this is the longest conversation we've ever had!"

"i know." he said, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of you. yeosang felt that slight tug at his heart again tonight, the way you sounded so excited just to talk with him.

"no, no, no." you whined, "this is so bad!"

"what is it?"

you pouted before nervously biting your lip, "i'm really sorry."

"for what?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair.

"for ruining your night and making you stay here with me! now you just have another reason to hate me." you sighed, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i could never hate you." he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but you had fallen back asleep, so yeosang sat you upright once more and monitored you closely all night. with every minute that passed, he wished more and more that it was easier for him to show his emotions, to you especially. he wondered if maybe he wasn't so closed off that things would be different between the two of you. but it was hard for him, to let people in, he was afraid. afraid of people judging the real him, afraid of what might happen if he lets himself become vulnerable, afraid of facing his feelings about you.

you awoke hours later with a raging headache and extreme nausea. you headed straight for the bathroom and hunched over the toilet, feeling the sickest you'd ever felt. yeosang waited patiently outside the bathroom door with a glass of water and painkillers.

when you came out, he held his hand out, "take this."

you looked down at his hand and then up at him, slightly confused, "what are you doing here?"

"you passed out last night, and i drove you home because everyone else had been drinking." he said, passing the glass of water.

"oh my god." you ran a hand through your hair, "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to be any trouble! you must of been here all night, i promise it won't happen again, that was so stupid of me—"

"it's fine, don't worry about it." he said, shrugging, "i'll get going now, but make sure you take it easy and drink enough water." his eyes carefully scanned your body one last time, making sure you were really okay. he headed for the door and you followed.

"i'm really sorry." you frowned, feeling as though no amount of apologies would make it up to him.

he let out a slight chuckle, "it's okay, seriously y/n." he said before leaving. you heard the all too familiar jingle of his keys as the door closed behind him.

he'd stayed with you all night, eyes watching over you closely. ready at your side whenever you stirred in your sleep. he'd been there in the morning prepared with water and painkillers. this was never how it was, usually this was your job, taking care of the boys. it was your way of showing you cared, helping out wherever possible.

this wasn't like yeosang. at all.

————————

as soon as yeosang got home he was greeted by a very concerned san and wooyoung.

"is she okay?"

"are you tired?"

"did she wake up?"

he was bombarded by questions.

"she's okay, she fell asleep after a while and i made her take some painkillers when she woke up." yeosang said, collapsing onto the couch.

"so you really don't hate her then." wooyoung thought aloud.

"he can't, he spent the whole night looking after her!" san said, hitting wooyoung like it was obvious.

"owww," wooyoung rubbed his arm, "even she thinks you don't like her!"

"i know, she said last night. but she probably won't remember saying that." yeosang said, feeling increasingly drowsy from his lack of sleep.

"maybe you guys should like, talk things out?" san suggested, taking a seat next to him.

"maybe." yeosang said, drifting off into sleep.

you had spent the day curled up in bed, wondering how you could make it up to yeosang, and there was nothing more you wanted than to get to know him better, but what would he want? you called up san on that thought.

"hey sannie," you said, "i need your help, actually, is woo there as well?"

"oh my god she's alive!" you heard wooyoung call from beside san.

"what do you need help with?" san asked.

you paused a moment, "is yeosang there?"

"well yes, but he's asleep."

you groaned, "i feel so bad that he stayed up all night looking after me. i really wanna make it up to him but i don't know how. plus, it's not like he's that fond of me. maybe i should just thank him by staying out of his space."

"i don't think he'd like that." wooyoung interjected. "i still think he just needs time before opening up to you."

"i think its just me." you sighed, worriedly chewing on your bottom lip.

"hey! don't be like that! there's no reason to not like you." san scolded you for down talking yourself as he always does.

"agreed." wooyoung said, chiming in.

"i'm sure i'll work something out. thanks guys! enjoy the rest of your day!" you said.

"good luck!"

"bye y/n!"

————————

you had been staring at your phone for at least an hour, typing and retyping the message to yeosang. wooyoung gave you his number so that you could contact him when you'd finally worked out how to make it up to him. in the end, you decided that you would let him decide.

you drew in a sharp breath and squeezed your eyes tightly shut as you pressed send.

you: hey yeosang, i still feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you !!

yeosang: did wooyoung give you my number? T~T

you: yes he did.. i hope thats okay !

yeosang: of course yeosang: how about you make it up to me over a cup of coffee? >.<

you: that sounds great !! you: when are you free ?

yeosang: does tomorrow morning work for you ? i can pick you up ^_^

you: of course ! i'll see you tomorrow :)

yeosang sat in his room, facepalming. why was it so easy to be more open over text?

you on the other hand, felt your heart swell in a bizarre way. maybe it was the way you hadn't expected him to use such cute little emoticons. maybe it was the way that you'd be able to have a full conversation with him. whatever it was, excitement had taken over you.

————————

a knock pounded at your door and you rushed to open it.

"ready to go?" he asked, leaning against the door frame coolly.

"yes, lets go!" you said, sounding a little too excited.

the two of you made your way down the stairs and into yeosang's car. you found yourself smiling as you looked out the window.

your excitement hadn't gone unnoticed, "you seem awfully excited."

"i really wanted to make it up to you," you beamed. "it must've been boring to watch over me all night."

"i didn't mind so much." he said, shrugging.

you frowned, "you shouldn't of done it."

"and leave you passed out in the club?" he quirked an eyebrow up at you.

"well..."

"exactly." he said, parking the car outside a small cafe nearby his apartment. "come on, lets go inside."

you followed him in and took a seat across from him at a table close to the window. you both ordered coffees and resumed conversation.

"so, where were we?" you smiled, taking a sip of coffee.

"talking about how you wanted me to leave you passed out in the club." he said. you were almost convinced you saw a teasing smile pulling at his lips.

"right. i'm so sorry about that."

this time he actually chuckled, and you were taken aback. it was like the wall yeosang had surrounding himself was crumbling before your eyes.

"you need to apologise less." he laughed, bringing his coffee cup to his mouth for a sip. "half of the time we talk its just you saying sorry to me."

"i'm so—"

"hey!" the two of you broke into laughter.

his laugh was loud but warm and you couldn't help but notice the way his nose scrunched up cutely, the way his eyes looked full of stars and the way he brushed his hair out of his eyes after, revealing his beautiful birthmark. from that point on, you wanted to be the one to make him laugh every day.

he felt that familiar tug at his heart, the one he'd been feeling every moment he spent alone with you. the one he felt when he first met you. the one he couldn't make any sense of. it was as though his heart was a violin and you were the one playing it. (which would explain the tugging feeling.) but you were playing the sweetest song and he never wanted it to end.

the two of you laughed the morning away, gradually making up for what you'd missed over two years in a matter of two hours.

you'd discovered that even after getting him to open up more, he wasn't one for words. you found yourself talking his ear off while he listened intently, occasionally sharing his opinions and stories. in all his honesty, he didn't mind listening to you talk. he could've sat there all day, drinking countless cups of coffee, watching the way you bit your bottom lip whenever you paused to think or the way your eyes filled with sparkles when you talked about something that made you happy.

you insisted on paying for the infinite cups of coffee, as it was your way of making it up to him. he reluctantly agreed, but promised that he would pay if there ever was a next time, which he secretly hoped there would be. he'd finally had the chance to let his walls down. (it was actually more like you'd climbed the walls and torn them down with your bare hands.) but he was thankful for it.

he drove you back to your apartment, even after you persisted on walking home, seeing as it wasn't that far. he refused, insisting that he drive you. he even followed you up the stairs to the door of your apartment.

you turned around to face him, "you know, you're not so bad when you actually wanna talk to me."

"you know, you're not so bad when you're not drunk." he countered, his lips breaking into a playful grin.

you glared jokingly, "hey! don't make me apologise again."

"okay, okay. i won't." he said, raising his hands in defence.

you smiled, resting against the door, "alright, well, i've really enjoyed hanging out with you today. maybe we should catch up more often."

"maybe we should." he said, bearing a coy smile, "bye, y/n. i'll see you around."

————————

it was only about a week later he showed up at your work, at the end of your shift. you were pleasantly surprised to see him, and at first thought he was just someone coming to book a room.

"hello, are you looking for a r— yeosang?"

"when do you get off work?" he asked, glancing over to the clock.

"five minutes."

"i'll be waiting in the car, okay?" he said, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

on his way out, you saw as he ran into your boss, the two of them beginning conversation.

"it's good to see you've made those security changes." yeosang said as he nodded, extending his arm for a friendly handshake. "i'm very thankful."

your boss shook his hand, "and i'm thankful that you suggested them."

just over five minutes later you got into the passenger seat of yeosang's car.

"it was you who told my boss about the safety problems." you said, in near disbelief.

"hello, to you too." he joked sarcastically. "well, i would hate to think that the situation could happen again, so i just suggested some possible improvements. thats all." he shrugged like it was nothing.

"suddenly, i feel the need to make it up to you again." you smiled shyly.

"you can do that by accompanying me to the skate park." he said, motioning to his skateboard on the back seat.

"ah, so thats why you came."

"well yeah, i wanted to bring you to the skate park."

your heart swelled once again, feeling joyed that he wanted to share one of his favourite places with you. (despite him never telling you directly, you knew he loved the skate park as he spent majority of his high school time there when he wasn't studying.)

when you arrived, the sun was beginning to slip behind the horizon, causing the sky to glow a rosy pink. there were still a few kids, probably high schoolers, hanging around the park. you took a seat at a bench and waited for yeosang to come over, who was getting his skateboard out the car. you felt oddly out of place since you were still in your neat work uniform and didn't know the first thing about skateboarding.

yeosang rolled over with a grin plastered onto his face, you'd never seen him so happy, and it made you happy to see him this way. it was strange how all it took was a few cups of coffee for him to become a completely different person around you.

he didn't need to ask you to watch as your eyes were already glued to him as he dropped into the bowl, showing countless tricks and flips.

the truth was in fact that yeosang was grateful for you 'making it up to him'. he'd never been able to comprehend his feelings for you, if they were even feelings at all. he hated the confusion and decided it was easier to ignore it, and to an extent, ignore you, to make it go away. it had been working for the most part, until every time the two of you were alone together, he couldn't ignore the slight tug at his heart, that was becoming more of a pull over the last few weeks.

"you're amazing!" you cheered as he sat down next to you, out of breath.

"thanks." he smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair and out of his face. he leaned back, looking up at the sky. "do you sometimes wish you could see the stars from within the city? hongjoong and seonghwa are so lucky they can see them from their house."

you pondered a moment, thinking about the last time you actually saw stars in the sky. "i see stars in your eyes sometimes." you said, absent minded.

he felt warmth burning in his cheeks, "you do?"

"do what?" you turned to him, "did i say that out loud?" you gasped, covering your face in embarrassment. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that it was just a thought and—"

"what did i say about apologising?" he laughed. "it's getting cold, right? you ready to head home?" he asked.

you smiled, "if you are."

he drove you home and said goodbye, feeling happy about spending time alone with you once again. he couldn't stop thinking about what you said and you couldn't stop feeling like a fool for saying it.

————————

the weather got colder and colder and soon it began to snow as the days of december passed. you had spent the day helping jongho move some new furniture into his apartment. it was a difficult job, but easier with the two of you, even san and wooyoung came to help. you couldn't resist wondering where yeosang was and why he didn't come, seeing as they lived in the same building. maybe he was busy, you thought.

"hey, where's yeosang?" you asked, lifting a box and placing it on the kitchen counter.

"at home, i think he's been feeling sick or something, he hardly comes out of his room lately." wooyoung shrugged, assuming it was all good.

"if he's sick i'll bring him over some food and painkillers, maybe keep him some company." you explained, not wanting yeosang to be unwell.

"i think he'd rather be left alone, to be honest." san said, giving wooyoung a side glance that you couldn't miss.

you pulled out your phone and sent yeosang a quick message.

you: are you feeling okay? san and woo said you were sick :((

he didn't respond right away and you just figured he was asleep. but as you finished helping out at jongho's house a few hours later, he still hadn't responded. when you were sitting down to eat dinner at home, he still hadn't respond. just before you were going to turn the lights out and go to bed, he still hadn't responded.

something was up. this wasn't like yeosang, not anymore. not since the two of you had been spending so much time together. maybe it was like the boys said, and he was truly very sick, but in that case, why wouldn't they let you help?

————————

days passed and you went to work as usual, repeating the same few lines, asking people if they want a room, asking them to fill in a form, then directing them to the right room. days passed and you still hadn't heard back from yeosang, you wondered if he was still sick. days passed and you began to think maybe you should go over there to see if he's okay.

but if there was one thing you'd learnt about yeosang recently, it was that he was the quieter type, and probably wouldn't appreciate you going over there to keep him company and would rather be alone. so that evening when you got off work, you didn't go visit him like you so desperately wanted to, instead, you went straight home.

you cooked and ate dinner for yourself, before picking up your phone, only to see still no messages from yeosang.

you: hey woo you: is yeosang feeling better ?

wooyoung: yeah he is

you: well then can i come visit tomorrow ?

wooyoung: i think he's busy wooyoung: sorry

you: its okay woo you: its not your fault !!

you switched your phone off and headed for the shower, trying to wash away the stress and worry for yeosang that had built up over the last few weeks. you had really grown to like him and there was still so much about him you wanted to learn, like when he learned to skateboard or how he got the small scar on the back of his hand, that you'd noticed when ever he brushes his hair out of his eyes.

two years he'd spent, not interested in holding conversation with you and two years you'd spent, wondering what you'd did so wrong. but lately, you felt like you were doing something right around him, getting him to smile and laugh, share his own stories.

you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he still didn't like you, and had just been trying for wooyoung's sake.

or maybe he was genuinely starting to like you, but you went and fucked it up by weirding him out and telling him about his starry eyes.

or maybe he'd just had enough of you already. decided that a few weeks was enough time spent trying to change things between the two of you.

as you finished showering and changed into comfortable clothes, you glanced at the clock which read 10:56pm. you switched on the television to watch some youtube before going to bed. as you felt yourself dozing off, a faint knock sounded at your door, so quiet you almost missed it.

when you opened the door, you were shocked to see yeosang standing there, leaning against the door frame for support. he looked up at you, his normally starry eyes were dulled with tears.

you rushed forward to him, smelling the alcohol as you got closer, "yeosang are you okay? what are you doing here? i thought you were sick. are you drunk? you never drink, come inside." you gently pulled him inside, closing the door behind you. when you turned to face him, he was staring at you, tears about to spill over the brim of his eyes.

"i hate you." he breathed out, voice barely louder than a whisper. he didn't seem angry though, he looked fragile, like a glass vase balancing on the edge of a table.

you felt the urge to cry, finally hearing those three words that confirmed your biggest concern, yeosang disliking you. "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i never meant to—"

"i hate you." he said, louder this time before running a hand through his hair hastily. he let out a frustrated groan, dragging his hands down his face. "i hate the tugging feeling in my heart whenever we're alone. i hate the way you put yourself before others. i hate the way you ramble on when you're nervous. i hate the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. i hate the way i don't drink around you because i feel the need to protect you and make sure you're safe. i hate the way i tried to ignore you for two years because i was scared and confused about my own feelings. i hate how it only took one cup of coffee with you for my walls to come crashing down!" he paced from side to side, waving his hands around crazily.

yeosang looked scared and lost, like he'd never felt this way about anyone before, and that was the truth. he didn't know how to comprehend these feelings and it terrified him.

you watched as he spiralled, seeming as though it would never stop. you weren't sure what to do, so you just listened to that swelling feeling in your heart once again, the one that had led you to develop feelings for yeosang, and you pulled him close into your arms. he clung onto you tightly, scared to let go, like if he did then he'd lose you forever. you ran your fingers through his hair briefly, trying your best to comfort him.

"i'm sorry." you repeatedly whispered to him. you'd never meant to upset him or confuse him.

yeosang let out a quiet sob into your chest, "i hate the way i've fallen in love with you." he croaked out.

he didn't hate you. never did. never will. your heart swelled completely in your chest, feeling as though it would burst through. but it couldn't be true. he's totally drunk out of his mind.

"you're not in your right mind, yeosang, you need to get home. you're drunk and talking nonsense." you embraced him tightly one more time, and you could've sworn you felt the beat of his heart through the hug. "come on," you urged, steering him towards the door, "wooyoung and san are probably worried and waiting up for you."

with much effort, you led him down the stairs of your apartment block and walked him home. the street lamps led you in the freezing city night air. you held his wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs to his own apartment. he didn't speak a single word the whole time, instead, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. it hurt you so much to see him this broken, but you knew he wasn't saying the truth under control of the alcohol in his veins.

you knocked at his apartment door, hoping that one of the boys were still awake. luckily, they both were and quickly they flung the door open.

"y/n? yeosang?" san questioned, his eyes wide open with disbelief.

"we've been so worried about you!" wooyoung said, pulling yeosang away from you. "hang on, are you drunk?"

san had noticed his tired, tear stained eyes, "you look like you've been crying! are you okay?"

you let out a quiet sigh, knowing you didn't need to be here anymore. you gave a small wave goodbye and headed home, utterly exhausted.

and though you were so drained, you couldn't seem to fall asleep. those words yeosang said to you kept running through your mind busily.

did he mean any of it?

————————

yeosang felt bad. he felt terrible. like he wanted to vanish into thin air and float away with the breeze. though he couldn't, no, he desperately wanted to apologise to you. but he didn't know how, he wasn't good with words or expressing his feelings, and you wished he knew that was something you loved about him.

wooyoung and san tried to ask him what happened the night he drunkenly confessed to you, but he couldn't have them know that he'd been harbouring feelings for you for all this time, they'd never let him live it down. he could imagine the continuous teasing they'd give him, nudging him whenever you were together or giving him side glances after talking to you.

yeosang gave it lots of thought. he mulled it over in his head repeatedly. it was only after hours spent hidden away in his room that he decided to go back to where it all started, a text. a text that said how much he wanted to make it up to you for having to deal with him drunk, just like the one you'd sent initially.

yeosang: hey y/n, i feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you! T^T

your heart leapt a mile seeing his name appear on your phone. you grinned upon reading his message, realising it was scarily similar to the message you had first sent him.

you: hmmm you: that sounds familiar

yeosang: >.< yeosang: seriously though, how does dinner at my place tomorrow night sound? i'll cook

you: you can cook?

yeosang: there's a lot you don't know about me x_x

you: okay, i'll be there !!

————————

yeosang wasn't lying when he said he can cook. as you traipsed up the stairs of his apartment block you could smell something delicious laced in the air.

the usual swelling in your heart had instead fell to the pit of your stomach, you were feeling slightly nervous as to what would happen when you entered yeosang's apartment. you inhaled deeply before knocking at the door of his apartment.

"hey y/n, come in." yeosang greeted, holding an arm out, signalling for you to come inside.

"you must've been working hard cooking! it smells delicious." you said, feeling a sense of comfort just from the smell of food.

"yeah, lucky i sent wooyoung and san over to jongho's place, otherwise i doubt there would be any pasta to serve." he joked. "you can take a seat, i've just gotta serve up."

you sat down in front of a neatly laid table, it had somewhat surprised you how much effort yeosang had put into this dinner tonight. he placed a steamy hot plate of pasta in front of you and one where he would sit.

"so." he began.

"so." you copied, teasingly.

"i guess, i really just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i behaved the other night when i was drunk. you shouldn't of had to deal with that." he frowned, poking at his dinner.

you furrowed your brows, "it's seriously fine yeosang." you took a bite of pasta, "i was just surprised to see you drunk, since you never drink."

he chuckled, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, "actually, i do. i just never drink when you're there."

"really? why?" you questioned, eating another mouthful of pasta.

"because..." he paused. "no, it sounds dumb out loud."

"it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself." you smiled warmly, "but that does remind me to ask... do you remember anything you said to me while you were drunk?" you leant forward, genuinely curious.

he sighed, "i remember.. enough."

"you don't really hate me, right?" you asked, playing with the food on your plate.

"of course not! that's why i invited you here tonight. to show you that i don't, and to make it up to you." he had to refrain from reaching across to hold your hand, just to show how much he cared that little bit more.

you nodded, "well, thats good. i was kinda worried that we'd gone back to square one."

comfort settled within you. it was relieving to know you weren't hated by the one person whose love you wanted most. a tiny thought crept into your mind, maybe, just maybe, now would be the right time to tell him about your blossoming feelings for him. or would that confuse him more? now you were the one feeling conflicted.

"are you finished eating?" he asked, reaching for your empty plate.

"yes, thank you! it was delicious. you're a good cook, y'know."

"ah, thanks y/n." he turned away to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

"would you like me to do the dishes? since you cooked." you offered, standing up. but he quickly opposed.

"don't be ridiculous." he shooed you back to your seat. "can i get you a coffee? water? wine?"

"a coffee sounds good, i think you and i have had too many drunken situations lately." you laughed.

yeosang pulled out two mugs and put the kettle on. he felt your eyes carefully watching him. once again, he hated the feeling that was pulling at his heart. the way you could say nothing, yet he felt everything.

"can i tell you something?" you asked, voice now quieter and more hesitant.

"sure, what is it?" he said, placing a warm cup of coffee in front of you.

you took a sip, humming in delight. it was exactly the way you liked it. when the two of you went out for coffee, he had unintentionally remembered just the way you like it.

"well," you began cautiously, in case you brought this situation into flames again. "i just... i always wondered why you didn't like me. if i was doing something wrong, if i said something once that really upset you. and then after we started spending time together, i finally felt like i was doing the right thing." you groaned, frustrated with yourself for not getting to the point quicker. "what i'm trying to say is that i have feelings for you. it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i wouldn't expect you to, i just thought you should know—"

yeosang basically choked on his coffee, eyes widening in shock. "it's okay, y/n! in case you hadn't noticed, i'm crazy about you."

you had continued to ramble nervously before hearing what he said.

"wait. you are?"

"basically ever since you said that thing about stars in my eyes, yes."

you cringed, remembering how you had said that so absent minded. "yeah, sorry about that."

"it's okay, it was cute. and what did i say about apologising?"

you shook your head and smiled, "i know."

————————

ever since the two of you confessed to each other, you had been almost inseparable, except of course when you had work. but he dropped you home most nights, even though you insisted it was okay and that you could walk. he came over every weekend just to spend time with you, even if the two of you just sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. you'd been dating for a few weeks now, but kept it undercover, not wanting to suffer the incessant questioning that would come if you told your friends.

it didn't go unnoticed either, wooyoung and san were constantly nagging yeosang about why the two of you spent so much time together, and each time he just shrugged it off.

christmas was just around the corner, so you were spending the evening at seonghwa's and hongjoong's house, who of course, were throwing an unnecessarily large house party to celebrate.

you were sat between a very drunk yunho and mingi, who were trying to talk to an also very drunk jongho. you eyed your boyfriend from across the room, as if asking for a way out and he just laughed at the situation you were stuck in.

after at least ten minutes more of having your ear talked off, yeosang came to pull you away to the dance floor.

"care to dance?" he asked, extending his hand to you.

you immediately jumped up, latching onto his hand, "i would love to!"

he chuckled, pulling you close to his side and leading you to the makeshift dance floor that seonghwa and hongjoong created.

the two of you laughed at the boys' reaction. they were completely shocked to see the two of you so close together and yeosang being friendly.

he twirled you around a few times with the music, before settling his arms around your waist. he brought you near to him as you placed your arms behind his neck. you swayed back and forth, engulfed in your own little bubble of comfort in each other's arms, completely out of time with the loud thumping music that blared around you.

you felt content, and yeosang no longer felt confused. he found his home in your arms and his happiness.

you reached up to place your lips on his, capturing the moment surrounding you. yeosang melted into the kiss, discovering that your lips were soft and sweet against his, just as he had imagined, which caused his knees to feel weak and his heart to skip more than just one beat. he never wanted to let you go, he wanted to compensate for every second that he didn't spend with you since the two of you met.

he leaned forward and whispered softly, just so you could hear above all the music and singing, "lets stay like this forever."

291 notes · View notes

imagine-darksiders · 3 years

Text

A gentle touch.

[Strife/Reader]

Summary: Set three years after humanity is resurrected. Strife shows up unannounced in your bedroom in the middle of the night, which would have been rude enough without him getting blood all over your cream-coloured carpet.

Tags: Blood, injury, PTSD, knife, protective Strife, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, sharing a bed ;), bandages and cleaning wounds, how not to administer first aid.

-----

You have the apocalypse to thank for turning you into such a light-sleeper.

Even though the nights of sleeping with one eye open are far behind you and Earth is back on the road to a long and arduous recovery, you'll still jolt awake if your unconscious mind hears something scuttle beneath the floorboards of your freshly-restored home, and God forbid a tree branch should happen to scratch at the bedroom window...

Waking up with the feeling that your heart is three beats from bursting right out of your chest is exhausting, to say the least. And it isn't just you who suffers from the onset of hyper-vigilance.

It was a decidedly cruel consequence that the resurrected humans were able to recall their lives before the end of the world. Crueller still, they woke up to remember exactly how and where they eventually kicked the bucket, and of course, nobody knew that a significant chunk of time had passed at all since the end of the world and its rebirth.

They thought they were still in danger.

In one moment, all they knew was immense and excruciating pain, and then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, they woke up again, screaming and writhing in the echoes of phantom pain that had occurred almost a century ago.

Three years down the line since ‘The Great Waking,’ and there isn’t a human alive who could claim that they’ve slept through an uninterrupted night.

------

The alarm clock on your bedside table has just ticked over to read '2:36am' when your eyes suddenly snap open and you fling yourself upright in bed, your spine ramrod straight and your ears ringing with a sharp, tinny note.

It isn’t a nightmare that wakes you. At least, not this time.

Worse.

It’s a sound.

An out-of-the-ordinary sound that isn't in keeping with the normal ambiance of your bedroom.

But where...?

....It's coming from your window.

Tired eyes swivel to the curtains whilst your hand immediately flies out to blindly fumble with the drawer of your bedside table. Once your fingers find the cold, metal handle, you rip it open and plunge your hand inside, rummaging around until you feel the reassuring grip of your most precious possession.

Your trusty bread knife. Serrated edge, nine inch blade, perfect for cutting slices of toast in the morning and for tearing through the toughened hide of a hungry demon.

Peace between the Universe’s species had been declared once humanity was fully introduced to the connected realms, a decision that suited a vast majority of Creation. Hell, however, had offered up a fair amount of opposition to the notion before eventually conceding and agreeing – albeit begrudgingly – to honour the peace treaty alongside angels, makers, undead and the rest.

Even demon-kind knew not to incur the wrath of humanity's strongest and most ferocious protectors, the Horsemen.

But... there are always exceptions to the rule. Some demons just... hadn't gotten the memo.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had tried to make an assassination attempt on humanity’s envoy.

Heart in your throat, you grasp the knife securely in your dominant hand and peer through the darkness towards the window.

Only a sliver of moonlight peeps through a tiny gap in the curtains. In another blink, the light suddenly disappears, and you know better than to assume that the moon has simply ducked behind a cloud.

Something is standing at your window, blocking out the light.

You think you might actually be sick when you hear the sound again, claws scraping on wood – a sound you know all too well – well enough to send your head spinning into a panic.

Swallowing back the nausea in your throat, you brace yourself, instincts flicking between running for the door and knowing never to turn your back on a demon.

Sadly, the decision is swiftly taken out of your hands. Through the darkness and the deafening roar of blood rushing through your ears, you can make out the distinct sound of your window sliding slowly open.

The knife is a comforting weight in your hand. But it’s less than useless if you don’t calm down and try to remember the lessons that Death has taught you. If the eldest Horseman were here, he’d probably have berated you seven ways to Sunday by now for freezing up and missing an opportunity to better prepare yourself for an attack.

A dark silhouette pushes the fluttering fabric of your curtains aside and pulls itself halfway into your bedroom.

Whatever it is, it’s big.

Breath catching in your throat, you clasp a handful of your duvet and get ready to fling it at the intruder as a distraction, hoping that it’ll be enough to buy you a precious few seconds to gain the upper hand. You've learned that humans are inherently weaker than demons, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from Death, it’s that strength isn’t necessarily the deciding factor in any battle. You still have your wits. You only hope the demon has less.

Two luminous, golden eyes turn in your direction and you press yourself backwards into the headboard.

Several seconds drag by in perfect silence.

Then...

“Hey.”

And just like, that tension leaves your body like a balloon deflating of air and you heave the loudest sigh you can muster, dropping the bread knife into your lap.

“Damn it, Strife! You about gave me a heart attack!”

With a 'whump,' you flop back against your pillows and take a second to breathe whilst one of the Four Horsemen drags himself the rest of the way through your bedroom window.

Strife.

It's only Strife...

Whilst certainly a dangerous being in his own right, you know you have nothing to fear from the Horseman who had all but appointed himself as your friend three, long years ago, all in an attempt to irritate his brother, Death, of course.

At least, at first.

Death was the one who pulled you from the dying Earth and preserved your life-force as you journeyed together on a quest to resurrect humanity, but after he made the jump to introduce you to his 'little' siblings, it had been Strife who'd taken a particular shine to you, and it had everything to do with a compatible, if terrible sense of humour.

That first meeting sparked what was sure to be an interesting friendship between the pair of you.

-----

“So, my brother went and got himself a human, huh?” Strife had teased, pointedly ignoring the withering look he received from Death to add, “Gotta say, I'm impressed, Kid. Didn't think anyone would have the inclination to willingly travel with my brother. But then, I guess...” He trailed off and you could almost see the smirk growing under his mask. “Deathperate times and all that, huh?”

At once, his siblings all groaned out varying noises of disapproval. Fury, the loudest, cocked her hip and shot Strife a frosty glower. “You are singlehandedly ruining our reputation, brother."

“She's right, you know,” you spoke up, trying not to flinch when all eyes snapped onto you once more, “That pun was pretty deadful.”

The brief, startled second of silence was soon blasted apart when Strife threw his head back and barked out a triumphant laugh, while Death slowly turned to look at you, utterly betrayed.

“Ha!” Strife's eyes positively gleamed with mischief, “You're right, human. Guess I should'a considered the reapercussions of a joke like that, huh?”

“I ought to have known introducing you two would be a mistake,” the eldest Horseman grumbled, earning a sympathetic look from War.

“Sorry, Death,” you said with a perfectly straight face, “You want us to get out of your scythe so you don’t have to look at us anymore?”

Strife had howled.

Death, however, merely heaved a long-suffering sigh. Fury's eyes all but rolled into the back of her skull and War just stood there, struggling to keep his lips from twitching at their corners.

And you had looked around at all of them, a little proud and blissfully unaware of what you'd just unwittingly signed yourself up for.

You'd had Strife's attention from that day on.

-----

Shaking off the fond memory, you tiredly will your mind back to the matter at hand.

You reach across your bed and drop the knife back into the drawer before leaning down and skirting your fingers over the wall in search of a switch. The next moment, there's a 'click!' and the room is illuminated by clustered fairy lights that you've draped around your ceiling, forcing you to squint blearily against the intrusion of light as Strife hauls his leg into your room.

“Honestly. How many times have I told you to use the door?”

“S'locked,” he grunts.

You're in the midst of rubbing your eyes to try and stimulate a little life back into your bones, so you miss the way he stumbles a few steps away from the wall and presses a gauntleted hand to his abdomen.

“Yeah, it’s locked because it's-” You take a quick glance at the clock next to you. “-Two thirty in the morning! Strife, I’m supposed to be up at six to meet Ulthane! What do you need so badly that you'd-... Hey.. Are.. are you okay?”

At last taking a long, hard look, it suddenly occurs to you that the Horseman is... not entirely himself.

He's hunched over, his shoulders pulled in around his neck and his chest rising and falling in long, languid motions. The tattered cowl he wears around his neck hangs loose around his collarbones and it faces the very real threat of slipping off to the floor. At last, your eyes drop to the hand that's clamped over the left side of his abdomen and you blurt out a startled gasp.

In the paltry, pink glow of your fairy lights, you spot an unmistakably crimson liquid dribbling between his fingers, starkly contrasted against the steel-grey colour of his armour.

The next few seconds pass in a blur as you frantically begin kicking off your duvet and scramble out of bed, flying across the room to the Horseman's side.

“Strife! What'd you do!?”

“Oh, that's real sweet,” the Nephilim chuckles wryly whilst he collapses back against the wall and slides down it with a strained grunt, “Why're you – ung... assuming it's something I did?”

Without missing a beat, you snap, “This would hardly be the first time you got hurt because you're a wise-cracking jokester with a big mouth! Now tell me who you pissed off?!”

You drop onto your knees next to him and reach out, fingers hovering tentatively above his stomach. With your focus directed away from his helm, Strife doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes dart from left to right before they settle back on the top of your head.

“Ah, it was... just some demon, caught me slackin', that's all,” he shrugs, letting you carefully grasp his wrist and lift it away from his torso.

At once, fresh blood gushes from a deep gouge cut into in the dark, leather under-skin he wears beneath his cuirass and you yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth in abject horror.

The sound draws Strife's gaze to you and once he spots the shocked despair on your face, he gives himself a mental kick.

He hadn't meant to... He... doesn't like it when you’re scared because of him.

"Hey, no, no – I'm okay!” he rushes to reassure you, “Don't worry about this. I've had worse!”

“That's not the point, Strife!” you argue, dropping his wrist and carding your hands through your hair, “You're hurt now! And I don't – there's so much blood, and you-” Cutting yourself off, you squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply through your nose, willing your pulse to ease so that you can rationally address this situation.

Another lesson Death had taught you - stay calm in a crisis. Panic kills.

Releasing a long, hard breath, you peel your eyes open again and nod, jaw set. “Okay. All right. I need to.. I need water. A-and I need to see the wound.”

The interrogation can come after you've dealt with... this.

“There's a bowl and flannel in my bathroom,” you announce, getting to your unsteady feet and gesturing towards Strife's cuirass, “Think you can get that off so I can have a look?”

Huffing out a breath of laughter, the Horseman winks at you suggestively and drawls, “An' here I was doin' things the hard way to get your attention. You know, you didn't have to wait till I got myself gutted before you asked me to take my armour off in your chambers.”

A wise-cracking flirt with a big mouth.

As exasperating as he is though, you don't mind it in the slightest.

This is your usual rapport, after all. A friendly back and forth interlaced with the occasional, flirtatious comment. At first, Strife had only initiated it because it drove an over-protective Death up the wall. The eldest Horseman had almost threatened to 'remove Strife's libido' until you'd up and flirted right back, distressing the old reaper even further.

It's funny. It's innocent. But right now, it's reassuring, if only somewhat, that Strife is behaving just like his shameless, old self.

Besides, you can give back as much as you get.

“Well, I had to wait for a good enough excuse,” you retort, “Couldn't come on too strong and risk scaring you off, now could I?”

In response, Strife just chuckles fondly and watches you turn and speed away to your ensuite, oblivious to the warm, soft glow radiating from his eyes.

In less than a minute, you're briskly striding back into the room, a dripping flannel in one hand and a bowl in the other, and he suddenly remembers that you'd asked him to remove his cuirass.

Mission failed.

But you don't even bat an eyelid to find it still in place, assuming that the Horseman can't get at the catches on the sides in his current state.

In one, smooth motion, you drop down beside him once more and set the cloth and bowl nearby. “Here, let me help..”

The Horseman's pulse sputters when your tiny fingers reach around his torso and fumble with the buckles and straps that keep his armour securely in place. It doesn't pass his notice that your hands are trembling.

“Hey,” he calls, catching your eye for a moment before you go right back to fiddling with the cuirass, “This is nothin’, you know that, right?”

You only press your lips together and hum, clearly skeptical.

You're working fast and in almost no time at all, the straps have been released and you carefully take the Nephilim's broad shoulder, giving it a tug, guiding him to lean away from the walls so that you can start to peel the bulky armour off.

“Nng, hang on,” he mutters.

Reluctantly, you sit back to let him tug his chest piece loose before he simply drops it onto the carpet next to his legs with a dull 'clang.'

Exposed to the soft glow of your lights, your eyes are instantly drawn to the gaping wound that stretches in a horizontal line across the left side of his abdomen. It seems that something really has tried - and nearly succeeded - to gut him. Several inches long and goodness knows how deep, even against the iron-grey colour of his skin, the gash is alarmingly obvious and the blood far, far too noticeable for your liking. It still comes as something of a shock to learn that the Horsemen, barring Death, can actually bleed.

Wordlessly, you pick up the flannel and wring it out into the bowl of water, wondering if he'll mind that you didn't wait for the tap to get warm before you soaked it. It shouldn't surprise you that the Horseman doesn't protest or even flinch when you gently press the wet cloth to the bloodied skin around his wound, nowhere near the gash itself, not until you've cleared away some of the mess around it and determined its real depth.

You don't notice that his eyelids flutter closed once you press the cloth to his skin, nor do you see when their golden light fluctuates in contentment as the fingertips of your other hand press gently to his stomach, the pressure barely enough for him to feel, but enough to keep you steady whilst you daub at his drying blood.

It takes a formidable effort to suppress the shudder that nearly races up his spine. This is the first time he's felt your skin against his without a single piece of armour standing between you.

Creator, you're so soft! Just like he always imagined you would be.

“Jeezus, Strife,” you whistle, abruptly snatching his focus away from the soothing strokes of your silky fingers,“You've made a real mess of yourself. Why on Earth didn't you just go straight to Death? I thought he was the best healer in your family.”

The warm skin underneath your fingertips jumps as the Horseman puffs out a quick laugh, gazing dopily at your temple whilst you wipe at the edges of his wound with small, careful touches.

“He is,” Strife readily agrees, “But the moody bastard wouldn't be nearly as gentle with me as you are.”

You blow an unimpressed huff from your nose and glance up at him in time to catch his lazy wink. “I can always press harder if you like?”

“Nah.” The Horseman settles himself more heavily against the wall, knocking his skull back against it and mumbling, “Just keep touchin' me all gentle like that. S'nice...”

Quite abruptly, the chatty Nephilim goes silent and the glow from his eyes that had illuminated your face only moments ago suddenly disappears.

“Strife?”

He doesn't respond.

“Hey, Cowboy! Don't you fall asleep on me, you hear?”

There's a long stretch of silence, then, “Won't,” he mumbles, cracking one eyelid open to peer down at you.

Harrumphing, you promptly turn back to the gash in his stomach and wipe the last of the dried blood off his skin, still far from clean, but at the very least, better than it had been.

“Right,” you declare, pulling away to stand up and drawing a decidedly petulant whine from the Horseman on your bedroom floor. “I'm gonna go get the first aid kit from downstairs.”

There’s a shift in his expression and something that hinges on alarm suddenly whistles through his blood.

“I won’t be long,” you promise, "Be right – Hey, woah! What're you doing!?”

Darting forwards, you hastily place your hands on each of Strife's broad shoulders, trying to push him back down as he grabs the window sill behind him and begins hauling himself up to his feet.

“What's it look like ‘m doing?” he answers gruffly, slouching forwards as if the weight of his own head is too much to keep aloft, “Comin’ with you”

Sputtering out a few, incredulous noises, you try to make him see sense. “I’ll bring the first aid kit to you! You need to rest! It's bad enough that you already climbed in through my second storey window!”

But Strife, stubborn as a mule and much, much stronger than you, isn't deterred by your protests. Grunting, he curls one arm over his stomach and takes a step forwards, ducking beneath your light fixture and standing to his full, imposing height.

Even with three years of companionship behind you, you’re still frequently taken aback at how effortlessly the Horseman can make you feel small and fragile when you stand close to him.

Knowing full well that you’ll never be able to force him down again, you allow your hands to slip from his shoulders and fall against your sides like lead weights. You aren’t sure why he’s suddenly so hellbent on following you, downstairs, of all places, but you don’t dwell on it, especially given that you’re far more preoccupied with the fresh blood that has already begun trickling out of his wound to replace the stains you’ve painstakingly cleaned away.

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Strife, please sit down?” You aren’t so proud that you won’t resort to begging, tired as you are and exasperated with his obstinate behaviour. “I’m worried about you...”

All at once, the Horseman stiffens. ‘Oh, now she’s fighting dirty,’ he muses to himself.

Gradually, you lift your eyes to meet his and try your very best to glare up at him, pinning him down with all the stern authority you can muster. For several, slow heartbeats, the Nephilim peers right back at you and you’re almost certain that you’ll lose this battle of wills, which is why it comes as such a shock when his fiery gaze falters, wavering slightly before it promptly drops to the floor near your feet.

It's... rare for Strife to be looked at by someone who isn't ashamed to show that they worry about him.

But the way you're looking at him now? Hell, the way you've been looking at him since he clambered through your bedroom window? You're practically broadcasting your concern.

Strife just... isn't used to seeing that. So he glances down instead, finding the fibres of your carpet particularly exhilarating tonight. Slowly, begrudgingly, he sinks down to sit on the edge of your bed, heavy enough that the frame creaks and groans under the weight of a fully grown Nephilim and he has to hold back a contented sigh at the softness beneath his legs.

From the corner of an eye, he can see that your jaw is hanging ajar and remains so until you give yourself a little shake and throw him a satisfied nod. “Thank you,” you huff before turning on your heel and striding purposefully from the room.

Strife listens raptly to your footsteps disappearing down the staircase, unaware that his hands have curled into tight fists around your duvet.

'It's fine,' he assuages the insistent voice at the back of his head, 'She's fine.'

He took care of the threat. That demon asshole isn't coming after his friend.

You’re only downstairs. He can already hear you pushing open the door to your little kitchen whilst the rest of his senses remain trained on the sounds and smells of the night.

It isn't as though something bad might happen just because his eyes aren't fixed upon you...

Frankly, he thinks he’s being more than generous to allow a full, Earth minute to pass as he taps his heel impatiently against the side of your bed.

Didn’t you say you’d be right back?

...

“Fuck it...”

-------

Perhaps, in hindsight, keeping your first aid kit on the top of the fridge hadn’t been one of your brightest ideas, given that you need a chair to reach it. Then again, securing immediate access to bandages and plasters hadn’t exactly been on the forefront of your mind when you were rebuilding your old home from the ruins it had been left in.

With a grunt, you drop your rickety kitchen chair next to the fridge and clamber up onto the seat. “I have got to find a better place for you,” you grumble at an apathetic first aid kit that sits gathering dust near the wall. Stretching your arm out, you manage to snag it by the handle and drag it towards you-

“The hell're you doing!?”

The violent jolt that shoots through you like lightening nearly sends you toppling off the chair. You let out a yelp, just barely catching yourself on the fridge with your free hand before you whip about to see none other than Strife silhouetted in the kitchen doorway.

“Wh- the hell are you doing!?” you retort, knitting your brows into a frown and clutching the first aid kit against your heaving chest, “Why aren’t you upstairs?”

The Horseman’s glowing eyes are fixed unsettlingly on the chair beneath your feet and rather than answer the question, he ducks under the doorframe and thunders towards you in a few, short strides, leaving you with no time to protest before he suddenly sweeps you up off the chair and into his arms, caging you against a solid chest.

At once, you begin to struggle. “Strife! Your wound! Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!”

But the Nephilim is hardly paying attention. His glare lingers on the flimsy, wooden chair legs for a moment before he flicks his gaze towards the large window above your sink, noting with no small degree of distaste that it isn't even shut.

It’s like you’re inviting danger in.

If you had any idea of the fate he and his siblings are currently trying to protect you from, you might just try a little harder to take better care of yourself.

“Hey!” you continue to protest against his hold but manage to refrain from jostling about too much, mindful of his injury. “For god's sake! What's gotten into you?!”

He offers little more than a noncommittal grunt in response and begins trailing back towards the staircase, casting brief glances at the french doors leading out onto your patio.

'Structural weakness,' he registers, 'Perfect point of entry for anything smaller than a Trauma...'

Shaking his head, he turns sideways to fit you through the kitchen door and takes the stairs up to your room.

After a second, he lowers his eyes to meet yours and finds himself meeting a highly unimpressed scowl. “What?” he asks, the very picture of innocence.

Raising your brows, you snap, “Don't you 'what' me! The hell is all this about? I told you to stay put!”

“You were takin' too long,” he shrugs.

“Too long!?” Indignant, you flick your wrist and rap the first aid kit against his collar bone, “I was gone a minute, max! If you were so worried about me taking too long to fix you up, then why are you moving around and making your injury worse!?”

The light of Strife's golden gaze dims and he turns his head away, staring up towards the top of the stairs and your bedroom door beyond. “S'not me m' worried about,” he mumbles.

It's such an about-face from his usual demeanour that you can do little but blink dumbly up at him and fall still against his chest, your mouth hanging agape.

In silence, the Horseman ducks through the door into your room and sidles over to the bed where, hesitantly, he lowers you down until you're sitting safely on the edge.

In the next moment however, just as Strife drops heavily onto the bed next to you, you slip away and settle on the floor instead, placing the first aid kit beside his boots and fumbling with the latches.

Despite blowing out a rough grumble of disapproval that sounds entirely too much like War for his liking, he lets you go.

Chewing on your lip, you stare at the contents for a moment before snatching up a pack of antiseptic wipes, tearing one out and bringing it up to his stomach.

“You want to tell me why you just exacerbated your injury to rescue me from my kitchen chair?” you ask him, adding as an afterthought, “This might sting a bit..”

When he doesn't reply, you glance up and quirk a brow at the underside of his chin, only to catch him peering back at you from behind heavy-lidded eyes. Then, with a weary sigh, he sags forwards and raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking sheepish, of all things.

Unable to dispel your frown, you blindly begin brushing the wipe underneath his bleeding wound.

He doesn't even wince.

Strife tips his helm towards the bedroom window and slumps further backwards into your mattress, seeming so entirely out of place amidst the colourful duvet cover and frilly cushions.

“Okay,” he mutters, “I uh, I got a confession to make.”

Interest piqued, you make an acknowledging sound at the back of your throat and return your attention to his abdomen.

“Death didn't want us to tell you about this,” he continues quietly whilst you toss the now ruined wipe over your shoulder and pull out a fresh one, “And, to be honest, neither did I. We didn't want you to have to worry, y'know?”

You don't know. And you nearly ask him what you should be worrying about, but you soon let your mouth fall shut and settle for humming curiously instead, trusting that he'll tell you soon enough anyway.

There's a long pause, during which you find the courage to bring your fingers close to the edges of his wound and immediately have to withhold a gag when the motion sends another spout of blood oozing from the cut and dribbling down your wrist.

After a moment, Strife huffs and forges ahead, “Course, War and Fury did want to tell you-”

He's stalling, you realise belatedly.

“-War thinks you have every right to know. And Fury said there's nothin' for you to worry about anyway, cause we've got your back.”

“Fury said that?” you ask distractedly, dropping the wipe and rummaging around for a gauze pad. In response, Strife exhales, a tiny, hidden smile creeping onto his lips. “Fury says a lot of stuff about you that you don't know about.”

Gently, you unroll the gauze and press it against his wound. “Wow, you sure that's your sister? Sounds like she might've been body snatched.”

“Ha!” The Horseman suddenly throws his head back. “Well, if she has been replaced, I sure as shit ain't going lookin' for the original. This Fury is... she's...”

He pauses, tipping his head in thought before eventually settling on, “She's learning.”

You blow out a long, impressed whistle and he nods his agreement, adding, “Yeah, s'weird for all of us too.”

The room lapses into silence once again as you stretch the gauze across Strife's abdomen and mutter, “Hold this,” before your hands are retreating and the Horseman's slide down to keep the bandage in place.

Reaching into the box once more, you take some bandages and begin to unfurl them gingerly over the top of the gauze. “Not hurting you, am I?”

You miss the soft expression he aims at the top of your head. “Never.”

You're more than aware that he probably won't tell you you've hurt him even if you were to stick your fingers in the wound twist them.

“Sooo~....?” you prompt.

Peering down at you, Strife cocks his head to one side and echoes, “Soooo?”

“What did Fury and War think I should know?”

“Oh. Right...” His reluctance is as painfully obvious as a slap to the face but you're slightly more focused on plunging your hand back into the first aid kit and rooting around for a roll of adhesive tape.

He observes you for a moment, growing more and more certain that despite your curiosity, you aren’t actually paying a great deal of attention to his words. Quite abruptly, he asks, “You listening?”

Emitting little more than a vague hum, you finally snag the tape and run your fingernail along the smooth surface, searching for the ever-elusive end.

“You sure?” Strife grunts skeptically, “Kid, this is kind of important.”

Without missing a beat, you nod your chin towards his injury and reply, “Yeah, well, you're kind of important too, buddy.”

Oh.

Oh, that's...

Strife wracks his brain, trying to pluck an appropriate response from amidst his tumbling thoughts. Part of him wants to scoff – of course he's important! He's Strife! The best, damn marksman who ever walked the realms of existence.

But then, there's another part of him that lurks deep behind the walls of hubris and brass he's been building meticulously for centuries, and it gives a little leap at the sound of your words, delighted beyond measure.

Averting his gaze, Strife lets out a chuckle. “You're getting soft.”

“Ah, I've always been soft.”

His heart thrums. “Wasn't talkin' about you, kid.”

You shoot him a smirk as you stick a piece of tape over the bandages covering his injury. “Well, if you're talking about yourself, then you're wrong again. You aren't getting soft. You've always been soft.”

The Horseman mutters something incoherent, but it's his distinct lack of an articulate response that speaks volumes to your ears.

The slight pressure of your fingers as they prod at the tape with tentative care leaves him mourning the centuries he's gone without knowing such a gentle touch. Rolling his eyes down to you, his smile droops and he sighs, sagging forwards to rest his elbows on his knees just as you attempt to place another strip of tape.

“Strife!” you complain, leaning back, “I need to put more tape on!”

He merely blinks at you languidly and says, “Later. I want you concentratin' on me right now.”

“I've been concentrating on you all night,” you huff, though you eventually concede and sit back on your haunches, peering up at the Horseman expectantly.

Studying your face for another moment, he breathes a long sigh and gestures to his stomach. "I told you a demon did this..."

“Uh huh...”

Solemnly, Strife continues, “So more specifically, it was a Shadow Caster. Been on her trail for a couple of weeks now. Finally caught up with her on some farmlands west of the city...”

“Okay?” you nod, digesting the information, “And why were you on her trail?”

He hesitates, flicking his eyes between you and the window a few times before he quietly admits, “She was comin’ after one of my friends...”

“Who?”

The look he throws you is so pointed, you suddenly feel like a fool for missing the obvious.

“Ah.” Understanding, you slowly nod your head.

“Yup.”

“But, she's dead now, right?” You gesture to his wound. “You came straight here after killing her.”

Strife's eyes darken further and each time they try to land on your face, they seem to slide right off again and drop to the carpet. “Uh, yeah. She's dead.”

You heave a sigh. “She wasn't the only one who's after me.”

“... No..”

“I see.” Inhaling long and slow through your nose, you tip your head back and slap your hands on your thighs, rubbing at them anxiously as you gaze around the room. “So, do we know how many there are?”

The Horseman eyes you for several, silent seconds. Eventually though, he speaks up. “Got wind of a small group of about four of 'em. Demons mostly, one undead. You and I've got a mutual... uh, friend, who's been keeping his ears to the ground, and he reckons they’re aiming to provoke another war between Hell and Earth by killin' the human envoy.”

“Wow. Talk about sore losers,” you scoff humourlessly, “So, who is this mutual friend?”

Some of the tension bleeds out of Strife's posture once he notices that you haven't immediately flown into a panic. “C'mon kid,” he snorts, “You know I can't expose my source. He doesn't want you know that he cares about you. Thinks you might start askin' for discounts if you thought he was getting' soft.”

“Discounts, huh?” Your lips quirk up at their edges and Strife smacks a palm over his mask in mock distress.

“Ah, hell, I gave it away, didn't I?”

“I bet his name rhymes with Shmulgrim, doesn't it?” you laugh.

Chuckling, Strife leans back on his hands again and replies, “Hey, you came to that conclusion on your own. Technically, I never told you who my source was.”

With the atmosphere in your bedroom gradually becoming lighter and lighter, you follow the Horseman's lead and relax backwards onto your hands, stealing a surreptitious glance at the bandages adhered to his torso.

It's no longer as surprising as it used to be that Vulgrim is invested in the well-being of his 'valuable asset.' The Horsemen are perhaps his best clients, hence the vested interest in keeping himself in their good graces by looking out for their human ward.

Shaking your head with a knowing smirk, you push yourself up onto your feet and glance down at yourself, brushing off your pyjama shorts, only to grimace when your hands do nothing but smear Strife's blood all over the fabric.

“Sorry... for the mess.”

You raise your head at the sound of the Horseman's voice and find him glowering down at the stains he's dripped onto your carpet, his eyes hooded and glum.

Heaving a sigh that you hope conveys both exasperation and affection, you reach out and place your comparatively tiny hand on his shoulder to give the pauldron a reassuring squeeze, drawing his gaze back up to your face. “I don't care about the mess, Strife” you tell him matter-of-factly, “The carpet's just here to stop my feet getting cold in the morning. You're my best friend.”

Ever so slowly, his luminous eyes grow wide with wonder and he lets his jaw drop open to speak, but before he manages to utter a soft, 'what?' you give his shoulder a friendly jostle and add, “So long as you're okay, pal, that's the main thing. Now...”

Trailing off, you move back around the bed and let your fingers slide off the Horseman's arm, stepping up to the bedside table containing your pyjamas, oblivious to how swiftly and easily you've just swept the rug out from underneath Strife's feet. He twists himself around on your mattress to watch you, his eyes as wide as than dinner plates.

Did you mean to say... best?

He – well, he always knew that you considered him a friend! Hell, he'd even go so far as to say the two of you are close friends.

But best?

Best implies that there's nobody – nobody – that you hold in higher regard than him...

'How did I miss that!?' his psyche all but screams at him, 'When the Hell did I get so important!?”

You aren't even looking at him, too busy rummaging through your drawers, as if you have no idea that you've just pulled his heart right out of his chest and now you have it cradled in the palms of your hands.

You could crush the life out of him with hardly a word.

“So, you never did say!” you call out to him as you duck into your ensuite bathroom and flick the light on, hiding yourself from view whilst you change, “How does the master of marksmanship get tagged by a Shadowcaster in the first place? You’re not usually the type to get up close and personal. That’s more War’s thing, right?”

All at once, the threats that demon witch had made against you ring like klaxons in Strife’s head and he has to make a conscious effort to ignore his instinct to leap off the bed and barge into the bathroom just to be sure you’re safe. He hears the shuffling of fabric against skin as you pull off the bloodied shorts and begin to pull on the new ones.

Grinding his teeth, he spits out, “She just.. got me mad, is all. Made me wanna have the satisfaction of wringing her neck with my bare hands instead of filling her with bullets.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your silhouette suddenly appears in the bathroom doorway and and strife glances up, briefly enraptured by the halo of light glowing at your back. A fellow human might have likened you to an angel. Strife, however, knows that none of the feathery bastards could hold a candle to you.

Garbed in clean shorts that smell distinctly of you, and not copper, you step out into your bedroom. “How’d a demon manage to make you mad? You’re like, the champ of not getting mad. It’s like your superpower.”

“Yeah, well..” he mutters, turning his helm away, “This time, she went too far.”

You’re quiet as you flop down onto the bed next to him, your eyes flicking between his downturned head to the fists that are clenched like vices at his sides, metal claws gripping fistfuls of your duvet so tightly, you’re worried he might end up poking holes in the cover.

Whatever had been said to him must have been bad if he’s this riled up.

Biting your lip, you let out a pensive hum and lean backwards, your fingers brushing over a soft lump near the headboard. At once, your eyes grow wide and your lips stretch into a sly grin as your hand closes over something fluffy and familiar.

Strife is still busy stewing when he’s suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a face that’s shoved promptly into his line of sight. He blinks, drawing his head away to properly see what you’re holding up in front of him.

He can’t contain a chuckle once he realises that it’s none other than your old, toy horse, dangling in front of him with its little, black ears flopping forwards to cover a pair of button eyes.

Allowing a smile to grace the edge of his mouth, the Horseman wordlessly relaxes his grasp on your duvet in favour of reaching out to gently take the soft toy out of your hands, lowering it down into his lap.

“I thought David Hasselhoof might make you feel better,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his companionably.

The Nephilim simply smiles, stroking his palm over the horse’s fuzzy mane.

“Hey, Strife?”

“Mmm?”

You fiddle with your fingernail for a moment, dropping your eyes to the bed and taking a breath before you ask, “What did the demon say that made you so angry?”

It isn’t as though you want to pry. But having your friend turn up at your house in the dead of night with his stomach torn open warrants a couple of questions, in your honest opinion.

The Horseman’s brows knit together underneath his helm and he shifts slightly, twisting away from you further until you can’t even see the lights of his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost dare to say that he looks shy. An impossibility, frankly.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle, a far cry from the normal, strident tone you’re used to hearing. “She, uh, she might’ve made a couple of threats about you.. Bad ones.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but for some time, he doesn’t utter another word, prompting you to ask, “And?”

You very nearly reel backwards into your headboard when Strife whips around to face you. “And?!” he echoes, incredulous, “The Hell d’you mean ‘and?’ Isn’t that enough of a reason?!”

Taken aback, you lift your hands in a placating gesture and stammer, “Woah! I - I just meant... Well, it’s not like I haven’t been threatened before? Just seems like a weird thing for you to get so angry about.”

Without warning, the enormous Nephilim lurches to his feet, the cuddly horse left to tumble, forgotten out of his lap. “Did you not hear me?” he snaps, “She. Threatened. You!”

“A-and that... made you mad?”

“Did - Of course it did!” he all but howls, his voice cracking as it raises in pitch, “She made me listen to all the god damn, sick things she wanted to do to you when she found you! She said - she said, I’d never see you again!” Roughly, he drags his clawed fingertips through his spiky, black hair and exclaims, “Next thing I know, I’m droppin’ Redemption and Mercy, I’ve got her heart in my fist and I’m... I’m...”

He trails off, knocked out of stride by his own admission. You remain silent, pressed up against your head board with the blankets clutched to your chest.

When he notices you staring up at him, small and wary amongst the sheets, the frustration saps from him like water circling the drain. “So... so yeah,” he huffs, his shoulders slumping and a great wave of shame crashing over him, “I got a little mad! I got a little pissed off. Cause I didn’t like hearin’ someone say they were gonna hurt my friend.”

And with that, he just... deflates, not unlike a punctured tyre. All the hot air inside him is dispelled with every heave of his mighty chest whilst he peers down at you, feeling the weight of your stare upon him.

Guilt leaves a sour taste in his mouth, rancid and acidic.

You look so..

...scared.

Sometimes Strife forgets that to you, he’s an unassailable figure from biblical legend, a bringer of the end days and an ancient gunman with a body count higher than there are grains of sand on the earth. Of course you’re going to be scared of him when he’s raising his voice at you and towering over you like this. And all because he’d had the life scared out of him in the first place.

“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to -” The words die on his lips and he sighs, defeatedly casting his eye over towards your bedroom window. He doesn’t want to leave you, not without knowing that his siblings have dealt with the remaining threats to your life. But... “I’ll just.. I’ll go.”

Turning his back on you, the Horseman bends to retrieve his discarded cuirass and takes a step towards the window, but a voice, thin as the cobwebs in the corner of your room, stops him in his tracks.

“Strife.”

The Horseman doesn’t move. he just stares at the darkness through your curtains.

Minutes pass without another word said between you. He remains stubbornly silent, hardly daring to breathe let alone respond to his name, until eventually, he hears a soft huff and rustling behind him.

Footsteps pad across the room and your scent grows stronger as you draw near, wafting over him like an intoxicating aroma before your hand places itself into his palm and he instinctively curls his fingers around it, shuddering at the feel of your soft skin pressed like silk against his roughened hide.

Your tiny, fragile hand... Creator, he really is just a beast standing next to you, isn’t he? The last time he felt this monstrous was..

No. Strife abruptly slams the shutters of his mind down around any thoughts of the Animus. Now is not the time to let dredge up old memories.

Luckily, your voice breaks through the haze and keeps him grounded. “Come on, big guy. Stay here, please?"

“You want me to stay?” he chokes out a laugh, “Even after I scared you?”

“Scared me? What?” It’s your turn to sound confused. “You didn’t scare me Strife, you shocked me. I’ve never seen you this serious before.”

The Horseman half turns to face you, giving you a glimpse of his warm, golden eyes. “And, I’ve never had a best friend before.” he admits slowly, hearing a soft intake of breath behind him.

“Wait?... I’m your best friend?”

With your hand still in his, Strife steps around slowly to face you, shooting you a quizzical glance. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends to choose from, so the competition isn’t that fie- Oof!”

He’s violently interrupted by a soft, squishy body colliding with his.

You fling your arms around the stunned Horseman’s waist and bury your face into his chest, momentarily forgetting about his injury. Strife, meanwhile, has to employ every molecule of willpower he owns to refrain from flinching, fearing that you’ll let go if he does. He can’t ignore how high his heart just jumped at the feeling of you pressed against him, nor the way his soul soars after realising that you still trust him enough to get this close.

It’s something that both he and his siblings are all having to get used to, these impromptu hugs.

Fury had almost flipped you over her shoulder and onto the ground the first time you came at her with your arms open wide, assuming you were going in for an attack.

War had pulled the most remarkable face, a mixture of alarm and wary delight that caused Strife to keel over in hysterics when you threw your arms around his broad stomach.

Death... Well, Strife hadn’t been around to witness your first hug with his oldest brother, but he imagines it must have been like hugging a block of cold stone.

And Strife? Well, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the first hug you gave him. It was so tight and comfortable, and for all of a moment, the only things that existed were the two of you. Inside the binding circle of your arms, his troubles couldn’t touch him, the anguish of his sins took a backseat and he became convinced that he could live happily and peacefully until the end of time trapped in your silent embrace.

The sentiment hasn’t dulled with frequency either. Every hug he receives is as powerful and intoxicating as the last.

This one is no different.

Strife's large, thickset arms carefully raise to your delicate back and shoulders, where he simply folds himself around you, pushing the nose of his helm into your soft, messy hair and drawing in a long, deep breath, earning your snort of amusement.

“You a big fan of coconut, then?”

“Is that what that smell is?” he mumbles, feeling the world settle around him as his eyes slip shut, “S'different from last time...”

“...Setting aside the fact that you remember what my hair smelled like last time we hugged.. I ran out of apple shampoo.”

“Mmm.” He trails off, humming into your hair, a sound that rumbles straight through you and leaves the top of your head tingling.

It takes your brain another few seconds to recall the injury on his torso.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, leaning back and instantly finding your progress blocked by the Horseman's sturdy forearms. “I'm sorry, I didn't think -”

“- Eh, s'fine,” he cuts you off.

“It's not! I forgot, you need to be resting it!”

Strife grumbles his displeasure when you suddenly become very wriggly. “Strife, let go. You should be resting, not standing.”

Cracking one eye open, he roves his gaze over towards your bed. “Resting, huh? …. Not a bad idea.”

Without warning, he stoops down, and for the second time tonight, you find yourself suddenly swept up off your feet, bleating out a garbled squawk of alarm. “Stop picking me up! You'll start bleeding again!”

Smirking to himself, the Horseman takes two, loping steps towards your bed and lowers you down amongst the folds of the duvet, taking great pleasure in crawling over the top of you to get to the other side, armour and all. It isn't the first time he's rested in your bed, usually following a long night of playing your video games and catching up on all the human things he's been missing out on, and it likely won't be the last.

The bed springs creak despondently as he lifts his corner of the duvet and flops heavily onto his side next to you, grinning at the unimpressed glare you're shooting him.

“I like your bed,” he announces, burrowing himself deeper beneath the duvet, “You got a lot of pillows. And-”

His hand rustles beneath the covers for a moment before he winks... and slowly draws out David Hasselhoof, wiggling him back and forth in front of your eyes. “There's room for a threesome.”

“Oh my god. Goodnight, Strife!” Your lips quiver until you give in and crack a genuine smile, grabbing a pillow and whapping it softly down onto his helm. You get no resistance from the Horseman at all in retaliation. He merely lays there with his head hidden, black tufts of hair sticking out from behind your pillow as his shoulders bounce around a throaty chuckle.

Leaving him where he is, you roll over, turn off the fairy lights and plunge your bedroom into cozy, unassailable darkness.

A thick silence falls over the two of you, and the back of your neck begins to prickle, sensing without a shadow of a doubt that the Horseman's eyes are open and watching you. Sure enough, you peel your eyelids apart and find that your far wall is faintly illuminated by the golden light that emanates from his gaze.

Rolling your eyes, you resign yourself to a long night of fighting for your covers and kicking a wriggling Horseman back over onto his own side of the bed. And yet... if it's him, if it's Strife, it most likely won’t bother you in the slightest.

The alarm clock on your bedside table steadily ticks over to the three o'clock mark and you finally feel sleep crawl up behind your eyes. Just as you think you might nod off, however, the bed shakes ever so slightly, and behind you, there's the sound of shuffling sheets. It stops just as suddenly as it starts and you snort, chalking it up to a certain, restless Horseman trying to get used to the human-sized bed.

Several more minutes pass.

The shuffling starts up again, then it stops.

The same thing happens again a few more minutes later and your eyes snap open when something cool and solid nudges gently into the back of your head and you hear a quiet sniff before the whole bed shudders as the enormous Horseman laying upon it releases a monstrously low rumble of contentment.

-----

Strife leaves his helm right behind you all night, not that you'd know until the morning however, when you jerk awake to your bedroom door suddenly slamming open and Death thundering inside. He takes one look at his brother laying at your back and promptly begins a lecture that you're fairly certain will be the favoured topic of neighbourhood gossip for some time to come.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #Strife #reader #fluff #sharing a bed!#monster boyfriend #interspecies relationships #blood #injury #whump

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80s4life · 3 years

Text

God Help Me*

Word Count: 2,306

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Orange Is The New Black

A/N: Just watched some more of oitnb and felt that Joe was an underrated character. So, here's something dirty for the dirty dog!

Relationship: Joe Caputo x Female Reader

Summary: (Based loosely on S3:E7 (”Tongue-Tied”) where the new recruits for security are supposed to be getting the 40 hours of training, but denied by the new employers. Specifically, when Bayley makes his mistake with the pepper spray incident, Caputo is outraged, in the need of a break. Luckily, you know how to ease his tension.

Warnings: language, age-gap pairing, against laws, forbidden, smut, retardation name calling (once, not me though, a line from the show!)

Taglist: @intersellars-the-networks-of-eve @snapessecretdiary

Masterlist Orange Is The New Black Masterlist

{gif is not mine, credits to @thompsonconnors}

"What the fuck was that?" Joe Caputo asks, confused and struggling to keep up with the messes every corner he turns. "You assess the situation and you respond with the appropriate level of force! And you never, ever, ever discharge your weapon unless it's absolutely necessary!" he continues, not done just yet. "And if you do, and that weapon happens to be pepper spray, you better damn well make sure you're upwind!"

Bayley, the new recruit, alongside Donaldson, a long-term member of this prison, look down, ashamed of themselves. Blinking their eyes every so often, the pain in their eyes searing with the combination of the regret in how they got in this position in the first place and the stinging pepper spray.

Motioning towards Bayley, Caputo continues with his mantra, "You are a trigger-happy knucklehead who just got out of diapers," now turning his attention to Donaldson, "But you, how could you let this happen?" he finishes, exasperated.

Donaldson, finding some courage, fires back, "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not a nanny." He may have screwed up, but he is not putting his life on the line for an idiot.

"No! You are an officer with 20 plus years' experience, and your job was to impart some wisdom on fucking Baby Huey over here!" Caputo spits, motioning towards Bayley once more.

"Well, this is what happens when you put untrained officers in gen pop," Donaldson says once more, although very quickly and almost fearfully. As if he were a child talking back to his parents.

"You don't think I know that? I fucking know that!" Caputo says once more, placing a hand over his head, letting out a tired sigh as he walks back behind his desk. "Bayley, I should be firing your ass," he motion towards the young man with two pointed fingers.

"I know," is all he manages meekly.

"But, it's your first day, so I'm gonna chalk this up to mental retardation. If you so much as look at an inmate wrong in the next week, you're out of here!" Caputo motions with a "whoosh." Now looking Bayley up and down in disbelief, he catches the small paper taped to his chest as well, "Take that stupid fucking name tag off."

As the men nod once more, he finishes with, "Now go! Get your asses down to medical and get an eyewash. And read the stupid fucking manuals!" he grunts, shaking the book in question and slamming it on his desk as the officers leave.

Throwing himself into his chair, he almost considers kicking and flailing around like a child in order to let off steam, but he is quickly denied the chance as you knock and burst through his office within a second.

“Sir.”

“What is it now?” he asks quietly, a hand holding his head up by his chin, fingers covering his now closed eyes.

“Well- uhm- well...” you continue, quite nervous as you don’t know where his hostility had come from, you being unsure whether it was your doing or not. It was uncharted waters you weren’t sure on stepping into or not.

“What. Is. It!?” he yells now, eyes wide open, hands clutching the ends of his armrests. Making you yelp and jump a bit, taking a few steps back into the doorway.

Seeing this reaction, he sighs once more, taking in your wide eyes and slightly tense posture, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s been a long day, okay?”

“I-I understand sir.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Joe, or Caputo if that’s what floats your boat?” he says, an attempt to coax you out of your startled state.

“I’m sorry s- Caputo. I only wanted to tell you that I bought ya’ something. A little gift, I guess.” you say, a blush tinting your cheeks.

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything!” He smiles now, relieving you, and bringing a smile to your own features at his now somewhat upbeat mood.

“Well, ya’ know...I remember you telling me about a band of yours, right?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he smirks, looking back at fond memories and the new ones with his new band.

“Well, since your style of music was rock, and I just so happened to be in the area of a new music store, I found some goodies there!” Pulling a seat in front of his desk, you grab the wrapped presents from the waistband of your belt, having hidden it behind your back in attempt to completely surprise him.

He smiles at your childish antics, lightly taking the wrapped good from your small, delicate hands. Unwrapping the smallest one, he finds a box underneath the covers. Opening it, his smile grows bigger as his eyes meet a black guitar pick, a skull etched into it and painted white.

His eyes meet yours for a second, a fondness there, looking back down once more as he admires it. “I love it,” he says after a second.

“That’s not all!” you say, excited now as he already likes one of the things you’ve picked out for him, pulling out a medium-sized present next. You take this sudden change of attitude as a sign, wanting to hopefully ease the stresses the guards and staff have been taking, especially Joe.

Taking it from your hands once more, your hands make contact, the blush on your face intensifying a little more. Unwrapping the present, he finds a black bandanna, his band name printed onto it, matching the guitar pick. He giggles at this, tying it around his head for your view.

You laugh as well as you go to hand him the biggest and last of the presents, his eyes lighting up once he finds what it is. “Nu-uh! You didn’t! This must’ve cost a fortune!” he almost yells now, a genuine leather guitar strap in his grip as he jumps up from his seat.

“No, actually they gave me a little discount on it. It took a lot of searching to get the one you’ve been specifically looking for, but the guy said I was cute- anyway! I just thought you needed these since work has been beating your ass,” you say, smirking lightly.

“You didn’t need to do this,” he says, settling back into his seat as he grasps your hands lightly, still star-struck as he looks at the strap still in his hand.

The gesture was innocent, but as time goes on, you blush a deep red, him still not letting go of your hands. Noticing this, he goes to pull away, clearing his throat, standing, and straightening out his suit. There, you notice a slight tent in his pants, igniting a flame in your belly.

“Well, thank you Miss Y/L/N, these were very nice...”

“Anytime...” you say slyly, dragging on your words as you stand as well, not bothering to fix your pants as it sticks tightly to your ass and thighs.

He looks down, gulping as he takes in your curves he usually tries to ignore, clearing his throat once more as his eyes meet yours. Only now did he realize the close proximity between the two of you, you intending to lean in and fix his tie. As you do so, he grabs your hand, pulling it away, “Don’t tempt me. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Oh, I’m pretty damn sure I do,” you say as you pull him down to your height by the tie, pulling at the base of his neck, kissing him now.

Breaking apart for a moment, you make your way around the desk, perching yourself atop it as you pull him between your legs, kissing him once more. Tongues fighting for dominance, you tease him, sucking on it, and nibbling on his lips. He growls, the tent now very evident in his pants, the tightness an annoying constriction.

He pulls away once more, going to lock his office door, having placed a ‘On a lunch break’ sign above his name. Making his way back over to you, his lips attach to yours once more, moving to remove your weaponry belt. You do the same, unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt, moving to leave kisses, bites and hickeys.

Continuing your attack, you move your hand to his belt, working quickly as he unbuttons your shirt, exposing your constricted, perky breasts. He grunts once more, adding to your eagerness as you finally get his belt out of the loops. Now both full of impatience, you unleash his cock, him doing the same for your breasts and pants. Completely removing everything from your being, leaving your half-unbuttoned shirt.

Not wasting time, he starts to work your clit, moisturizing ever bit of you as he collects it and moves his finger in all the most special parts, lubricating your core with ease. You grip his cock, teasing it as you run your finger along the slit at the top, precum already oozing. Looking him in the eyes, you notice his golden browns now a dark chocolate eyes, admiration sparkling them as he looks back at you.

You moan as he enters a finger into your core, soon adding another as you loosen yourself for him. Finally, when he deems you ready, he reaches into one of the desk drawers, pulling out a condom. Motioning to him, he hands it over, letting you take over and do the honors. He simply places both arms on either side of your form, caging you in his embrace, smirking down at you.

Finally, once the condom was rolled onto his member, he goes to line himself up to your entrance, tip placed right at the beginning, not crossing the threshold just yet. “Are you sure?” is all he asks, wanting consent.

Knowing that this is wrong, you contemplate your options. You have already thought of the many ways he could take you, having been attracted to the older man for many years. Looking him in the eyes, you nod, “I’ve wanted this for too fucking long.”

With this new reassurance, he thrusts deeply, not giving you a chance to adjust just yet, pushing in and not stopping until he’s bottomed out. Taking a breath, you relish in the familiar sting of being stretched out, leaning back on your elbows for a minute. When you’re finally ready, you grab onto his shoulders, nodding once again.

He starts slow, not wanting to hurt you, but, as you bite his pulse point, he jumps, taking the hint. Pounding into you mercilessly now, you moan and scream loudly, meeting his thrusts with the same momentum and speed, wanting this just as much as he does.

Instead, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as you can manage, you busy yourself with admiring and teasing the man before you. Specifically when he switches positions slightly, hitting your g-spot, your hands find their way into the tiny tufts of hair remaining on his balding scalp. Tugging lightly, he groans, pounding harder.

“Fuck!” you choke out, “I’m gonna cum! Joe! I’m gonna cum!”

“Just hold on a bit more, I’m almost there!”

Using his hands, he moves one to your clit, rubbing hard circles, intensifying the pleasure. You moan, the pleasure almost too much for you, settling for leaning your head on his chest. The chest hair tickles your nose, making you giggle between whimpers, kissing him there every so often.

With all your strength, you try to maintain your composure, the knot in your stomach begging for release. But, as you feel his dick twitch, the veins touching every inch of your walls deliciously, you couldn’t hold on any longer, milking his cock. With the sudden tightness and feeling of warmth bursting against him, he continues to thrust just a few seconds more, riding you through your orgasm as he meets his.

As he slowly comes down from his high, he sighs peacefully, placing his head underneath yours and in the crevice of your neck. You kiss the top of his head as you take his weight, leaning back on your hands, one wrapped around his neck. After a moment, as he now goes soft within your being, he pulls out, disposing the condom.

Smiling, the two of you joke and throw clothes at each other as you get changed again. “So what are we now, Joe?”

“Well, it’d be fucked up to say nothing after mind-blowing-sex, now wouldn’t it?”

“I guess...So does that mean we’re together?”

“Do you want to? I would’a thought a young girl like you would want someone who can keep up with ya’?”

“I mean yeah...but they aren’t you, Joe. I want you,” you say honestly.

“Shit...” he mutters, smiling now, “This is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”

“Is that a ‘yeah’?”

“Hell yeah it is!” he says happily, “Now how about round 2?”

“You’re on Old Man,” you say giggling, hopping into his lap on his desk, kissing him once more.

However your giggling and kisses get cut short with a knock on the door. You sigh, getting off of him not and making sure your clothes are straightened out.

“I guess not...” you say defeated.

“Well...Not right now,” Joe answers, going to the door, giving a sly wink as he opens it.

Work is only temporary, you know this. You’ll get all the time you need with him tonight.

#joe caputo x reader #joe caputo imagine #joe caputo #oitnb #oitnb imagine #orange is the new black #orange is the new black imagine #alan aisenberg #bayley #nick sandow #nick sandow imagine #nick sandow x reader #donaldson

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 2 Finding Out (Family/Friends)

AO3

@maribat-bdbwm

“Mari!” Adrien yells, running past Batman to sweep her up in a hug. Marinette’s face instantly heats up, but she buries herself into the hug. After all, it’s not every day she faces a supervillain determined to kill her with a dangerous weapon...without her suit, anyway.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Marinette reassures him, relishing in the comfort. A cleared throat makes her jump back and look at Batman who, despite clearing his throat and cutting off the most amazing hug ever, has no emotions on his face. Whatsoever. Cause that’s not intimidating or anything.

“The police will need your statement, Miss Dupain Cheng.” Batman says. Marinette nods, squeaking when Adrien reaches down and entwines his fingers with hers. Following Batman’s directions to the awaiting police, Marinette feels nerves flood her systerm as she sees the sheer number of officers on the other side of the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she feels Adrien squeeze her hand. Shooting him a thankful smile, Marinette uses her unattached hand to open the door and step out into the mess of personnel. A man with a mustache and square glasses steps forward immediately, his hand extended.

“Hello Miss Dupain Cheng. I’m Commissioner Jim Gordon. We were in communication with Batman while he was inside so we heard some of what happened. Would you be comfortable telling us what happened? We can get you checked over by paramedics first, if you want.” Commissioner Gordon says.

“Oh, no, no. I’m fine. I don’t-” She starts to say, but a gruff voice cuts her off.

“She should be examined immediately, Gordon. She may have inhaled smoke from the smoke bombs due to proximity. She also could have burns to her face or ears from Joker’s gun. He shot it and then proceeded to prod her with it.” Batman says, the last part of his ‘report’ slightly more gruff than the first. Was he…..worried about her? Marinette shakes that thought off almost immediately. Why would Batman be worried about her? Wait, was he really going to make her see the paramedics when all she wanted to do was talk to the officers so she could get back to the trip?

“I assure you, Monsieur Batman, Monsieur Gordon, I don’t need to see the paramedics. I’m a little shaky, but that’s all. I mean, I was held at gunpoint. I think shaky is appropriate, non?” Marinette asks, flashing the two a bright smile. Gordon raises an eyebrow and glances at Batman who shakes his head stiffly.

“She gets examined.” He says, leaving no room for questions as he pulls his grappling hook (?!?!) out and retreats to the rooftop.

“You heard the man. We can talk as you’re examined, if you’d prefer. I’m sure you just want to put this whole business behind you.” Commissioner Gordon says kindly. Marinette sighs in relief and nods, smiling again at the man. Hopefully this would be taken care of quickly. --- Bruce Wayne was slightly panicking, though he would never admit it. When reports of the Joker being spotted at the Gotham City Museum of Modern Art first rolled in, he assumed his biggest challenge would be keeping Jason from murdering the clown. He did not expect to see a small girl being held at gunpoint. A girl who looked like a strange mix between his mother, and someone else. But he couldn’t place his- of course. Memories flood his mind as he thinks back to the woman who was so clearly related to the small girl. Bridgette Le. A woman that he, at one time, thought he would be able to spend the rest of his life with. Until she left Gotham and cut off all contact between the two. Oh god. She wouldn’t….would she? --- “I don’t understand why that older paramedic looked like she’d seen a ghost.” Marinette says with a pout as she continues working on the embroidery for a jacket for Jagged. Design never sleeps.

“What d’ya mean?” Adrien asks from his nest of blankets on her bed. Marinette tries to focus on keeping her blush down. Apparently, the attack at the museum had scared Adrien more than her, though she imagined he was scared on her behalf. But she couldn’t quite understand why...nevertheless, he had become attached at her hip and hadn’t left her side since they got back to the hotel. Even though all she really wanted was a little alone time to talk to Tikki. Especially about the chance of the Miraculous Cure working here. Maybe if she was in the battle…

“Didn’t you notice? He was fine til he looked into my eyes and then he got super pale. He looked like he was going to say something, but Monsieur Gordon stopped him before he could.” Marinette recounts, remembering the way the paramedic had to switch out since his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I didn’t notice that. That’s weird. Anything else happen like that today?” Adrien asks, finally sitting up and giving her his full attention. Marinette pauses her stitching and purses her lips as she runs the days events back through her head. The paramedic. Batman. Joker. Arriving late to the museum. The cab ride. Being left at the hotel. Coffee-

“Well,” Marinette starts, furrowing her eyebrows as she tries to rationalize the man’s actions in addition to the actions of the paramedic. But something wasn’t adding up. “There was my cab ride to the museum.”

“What happened? Was someone creepy? I can fight them for you!” Adrien offers, a little too cheery. Marinette freezes as she studies his face, searching for something. Adrien had been off all day. More protective than he’d been in awhile. And the few times Lila had spoken, he had scowled at her instead of ignored her. Was he finally coming around to the idea that the high road would not work with Lila? Pushing those thoughts off for another time, Marinette shakes her head.

“No, no. Nothing like that. But as I was leaving, he called me Miss Wayne.” Marinette admits, not expecting Adrien’s uncontrollable laughter.

“He, you, oh my god!” He laughs, clutching his sides. Marinette’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as she sets the jacket down on the desk.

“What?” She asks, completely and totally frustrated with the situation. Adrien laughs for another minute before calming down, wiping tears from his eyes and shooting her a blinding smile. Not his model smile. An actual smile that warms her heart and her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry Mari. It’s just, I think he was referring to the fact that you look like the typical kid Bruce Wayne adopts.” Adrien says and Marinette’s blood freezes.

“Did you say Bruce Wayne?” Marinette asks and Adrien nods, his previous mirth wiped from his face.

“Yeah, Mari, are you okay?” He asks. Marinette nods, then shakes her head, then groans and throws up her arms in frustration.

“I don’t know! I just- you remember how I told you I’m adopted?” She asks. Adrien nods, then stops. A look of mixed terror and awe flooding his face.

“Oh god, Mari. You never told me the name. Your birth father-”

“His name is Bruce Wayne. But there’s gotta be hundreds if not thousands of Bruce Waynes in the US right?” Marinette asks, even as her hope in that idea dwindles.

“The US? He’s confirmed from the US?” Adrien asks, already pulling out his phone.

“Yes. Adrien, what are you doing?” She asks, suddenly worried as she jumps onto the bed next to him, desperately trying to see his phone.

“I’m googling Bruce Wayne and Bridgette Le as a combined search. Wayne is one of the most prominent figures in Gotham, all of his previous relationships have photographic evidence. Except for whoever the mother of his youngest is. But that’s probably because he wasn’t in the country at that time.” Adrien says, typing away furiously on his phone. Marinette’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement.

“Since when were you a master researcher?” She asks with a grin.

“Since one of my best friends found out she’s adopted and it could be the man who hosts the only palatable high society parties. Seriously. And they’d be much better if you were there and-holy shit. Your bio mom looks just like you!” Adrien exclaims, turning the phone to her. Marinette inhales deeply and thanks whatever power there is that she’s not in Paris right now. The emotions running over her at an indescribable speed...not all of them are positive. And they’re all overwhelming as she looks at a picture that very clearly shows her bio mom with Bruce Wayne. As in the Gotham Bruce Wayne. Not a different unknown Bruce Wayne across the country somewhere. Nope. A man who is apparently prominent enough that Monsieur Agreste makes his son go to the man’s parties.

“I don’t suppose she just had a type for men named Bruce Wayne?” Marinette says weakly. This was not what she expected. --- This was exactly what he expected. Looking at the birth records for one Marinette Le, where he’s noted as the father. Though why he wasn’t notified before the girl’s custody was signed over to Sabine Cheng, he’ll never understand. His jaw clenches as he continues reading, eyes scanning over Bridgette’s death certificate before glancing back at Marinette’s birth certificate. A daughter. He had a daughter. Another child that he would never be able to hold when they were small. Another child that grew up without him. Another child that he didn’t meet until they were already a person. Someone with their own experiences individual from his own, someone that may not even know he had found them. And that he wanted nothing more than to get to know someone who was brave enough to stand between the Joker and her friends. Someone who was determined not to let what should have been the most traumatic experience in her life be a set back. He had a daughter. And he wanted to meet her.

***

Note, my headcannon is that the paramedic that panicked did so because he was one of the first responders the night that the Waynes were murdered. And while she looks a lot like her birth mom, Marinette also definitely has Martha Wayne’s eyes and the paramedic could NOT deal. Also, let me know if you want tagged!

Tag List: @jjmjjktth

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #mbdbwm2021 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #day two family/friends

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avewritesmr · 3 years

Note

Stray kids reaction to y/k having tattoo sleeves? 🙏🏻 I’ve seen reactions where they specified a couple tattoos but I wanna know what their reaction would be with someone that has sleeves. Or wants to get more tattoos (; also could some of the settings be like on a date? Like during the stage where they’re getting to know y/k?) thnx 💓

Reaction to boyfriend who has a tattoo sleeve

A/N: So I only did three members (picked at random) to avoid this getting repetitive, I think I strayed a little off topic, not sure, but please let me know what you think of it anonie, I loved writing it, and I am so sorry it has taken me so long to write it, all the love and in hopes of having more time to write now that college application and decision time is coming to a wrap 💖

Seo Changbin (Implied NSFW Content)

y/n and Changbin meet on the coldest day of winter, it’s literally freezing and the entire city is basically iced over.

y/n is the new producer at JYP and it just so happens that Changbin is asked to work with y/n on a project.

At first Changbin is really skeptical, y/n is this quiet, kind of scary looking person and he communicates through glaring and frowning instead of words.

Then Changbin starts to slowly get to know him and things change, he finds out that y/n isn’t rude or scary and they get pretty close throughout the time they are working on the project.

When they are no longer work colleagues and the project is complete, Changbin works up the courage to ask y/n out on a date.

They don’t officially date or anything for a while, they go out together on a couple dates and hang out, they spend lots of time together and it is very obvious they are both basically in love with each other.

y/n doesn’t try to hide his tattoos or anything, Changbin’s seen a few of them, the one on the side of his neck and the ones on his wrists and knuckles but he’s never seen the whole thing.

Then one day they’re sitting in Changbin’s studio and somehow y/n spills an entire thing of iced coffee on himself and he’s only wearing a long sleeved shirt.

Changbin has a spare shirt from dance practice so he goes to grab it and in the meantime y/n pulls his dirty shirt off.

Changbin finds the shirt in a drawer and turns around to give it to y/n and he just freezes.

y/n doesn’t even notice him staring, he takes the shirt offered to him and slips it on going back to whatever he was doing before while poor Changbin stares on in shocked silence. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You have so many tattoos.” Changbin mutters quietly.

y/n smiles slightly, “You don’t like them?”Changbin shakes his head quickly, he loves them, if he had wanted to kiss y/n before now he wants to jump the other man’s bones, he thinks they are hot and such a turn on.

y/n seems to understand as much and he goes out of his way after that to put them on display even though it’s still freezing outside.

Changbin isn’t complaining (at first), after a while he just finds himself staring at y/n’s tattoos, they aren’t even officially dating so he can’t just grab y/n’s arms and trace over the tattoos or ask the older to do anything to him.The whole thing leads to a lot of frustration on Changbin’s end and a lot of amusement on y/n’s.

“You know you can look at my tattoos if you want, you don’t need to look away every time I look in your general direction.”Changbin’s cheeks flare read but he hesitantly moves to sit closer to y/n and runs the tips of his fingers across one of the many tattoos.

“They’re so hot.” Changbin slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave it, y/n on the other hand finds this hilarious.

“Are they?” He is so close to Changbins face and his arm has moved to wrap around Changbin’s waist.Changbin remembers every thought he’s ever had about y/n’s hands and the tattoos and what he wants the older to do to him and he can see all the tattoos so close that it makes everything so much worse.

y/n’s smirk is enough to convince him to move towards the older and pull the other’s arm around his waist, he has no idea where the confidence comes from but at this point he has nothing to lose and he’s been fantasizing for way too long anyways.

Things end up so much better than he had every dreamed of and he has to concede that tattoos are the hottest thing ever, especially when they’re y/n’s and they stand out on white knuckles that hold Changbin’s hips down.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin loves tattoos, he thinks they're cool and the moment JYP lets him get a tattoo (I am not sure if he already has a tattoo tbh) he is getting a tattoo because tattoos are just so cool.

So why doesn't Hyunjin know that his boyfriend (of like 4 months) has enough tattoos to cover 90% of the skin on his right arm? Simple, answer.

y/n is an idol, he isn't aloud to show his tattoos on national television, and since a lot of his initial interactions with

Hyunjin had been backstage at music shows...

music shows = no tattoos being shown.

So let's go back to the beginning to get a clear picture

Hyunjin and y/n first meet at a music show backstage, Hyunjin has heard of y/n but he hasn't really seen pictures of the other that often and now he is face to face with probably the most attractive person he has met in a long time.

y/n is leaning against a wall in the hallway outside the bathroom in a beautifully tailored suit and Hyunjin, who is walking out of the bathroom, is completely enamored by this man that he might know the name of but can't be sure.

person walks past Hyunjin and y/n shoves his phone into his pocket talking happily to said person before they disappear down the hallway.

Detective Hyunjin mode = activated.

His detective work involves a quick google search to identify what group y/n is in and confirm his name, turns out he was right about the name and so he spends the next 2 hours of waiting before he has to preform just scrolling through pictures and tweets about y/n.

He resolves that day that he needs to talk to the other no matter what it takes, he just needs y/n's number.

His first plan is to recruit Jisung and Jeongin's help because they tend to find talking to new people easier and maybe he won't be as awkward if he talks to y/n with other people present.

This plan falls through very quickly because instead of helping all Jeongin and Jisung do is laugh at him.

He turns to his second (and last) plan.

Lee Minho is 2 months older than y/n, so maybe by some stroke of luck Minho knows y/n, or someone in his group, and Hyunjin can maybe convince Minho to help him start a conversation with the other.

Hyunjin is in luck, not only is Minho more empathetic about his hardships than Jisung and Jeongin but he just so happens to know y/n well enough to be able to walk up to him and strike up conversation.

Hyunjin follows Minho with gradually decreasing confidence. Sure he is going to get the chance to talk to y/n, which is what he wanted, but what the hell is he going to say?

Should he just ask for the others number?

Just introduce himself and maybe y/n will ask for his number? Maybe he can just turn around now and run away before this gets particularly embarrassing for him?

Maybe the floor underneath him will open up and swallow him whole because good lord y/n just smiled in his general direction and why are there so many people in this area at this specific time?

Turns out y/n wasn't smiling specifically at him, he was smiling more at Minho.

"This is Hyunjin, he wanted to tag along."

"Hey, I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you." Maybe his smile will kill Hyunjin before he remembers how to talk.

"uhh-hh, yes I know, I- uh, Hyunjin." God why was that so awkward someone save him, where did Minho walk off to? who is that? why did he take Minho away from him?

"Are you okay?"

"yeah, yeah, I am good." god he needed salvation right now.Basically, Hyunjin is awkward and nervous and he feels like the first meeting is a complete disaster and y/n will never talk to him again.

Somehow though y/n decided he isn't pitiful enough to ignore and walk away from, it takes a bit of prodding and joking on y/n's part for Hyunjin to relax a little and they hold a decent conversation. When Minho informs Hyunjin they have to head back y/n is typing his number into Hyunjin's phone and urging him to send a text whenever.

y/n and Hyunjin talk often after that, they meet again just a little over a week later backstage at a music show again and decided that they should take the risk and start dating.

They're moving a little quickly true, but, they can learn more about each other as time goes on.

Neither one of them is necessarily free at any one point in time, they see each other at a few events but their dating is limited to talking over the phone and basically texting all the time.

And then the day comes.

Hyunjin has the day off and y/n has wrapped up a photo shoot, the timing is perfect, the managers are okay with it and Hyunjin is buzzing with excitement because it's been almost 4 months and he is going to go to his boyfriend now.

They decide to meet at y/n's empty dorm just to be in each others presence.

So Hyunjin is standing outside the dorm door waiting for y/n to let him in and he is just shaking with happiness.

So when y/n opens the door with his hair a little messy and no make up on, Hyunjin's first instinct is to launch himself at the other and hug him as tightly as he can.

They might not have been able to see each other these last four months but that doesn't mean Hyunjin hasn't learned enough about the other to love him.

y/n only laughs and pulls him into the dorm hugging back with a soft smile on his face.

Hyunjin is so busy hugging y/n that he doesn't see the tattoos covering y/n's right arm.

He doesn't see them in fact until after he's been ushered into y/n's room and is about to head towards the cat laying under the window.

He turns around to ask y/n about the cat's name and then freezes because holy mother of all beings is that a tattoo sleeve?

"Yeah, is it a problem?"

"A problem? god no!" Hyunjin moves closer to war his fingers around y/n's arm and raise it so he can inspect the intricate designs.

"They look so cool, this just makes me want a tattoo even more." y/n laughs, "I can take you to get one." Hyunjin looks up with starry eyes.

"Management would kill, but I don't really care anymore."

"Maybe you should get it okayed before you do anything?"

"If they try to kill me you'll come riding in on a motorbike and wearing a leather jacket and save me." Hyunjin replies with a serious face.

y/n laughs, "That is just a stereotype, my mom would kill me if I got on a motorbike."So what did Hyunjin learn today?

He definitely wants a tattoo and wouldn't mind getting yelled at by management for getting one behind their back. He wants y/n to go with him because this man is an expert and if anyone (y/n included) disagrees then Hyunjin will be inclined to fight them.

y/n is 100% a mama's boy and Hyunjin is living for it (Another one of his life sources at this point in time is y/n's tattooed arm wrapped around his waist but he doesn't want to discuss those emotions just yet).

Yang Jeongin (I.N)

So y/n’s a barista at a cafe and that is how Jeongin meets him first, it is late summer, the uniform for the cafe workers is a button down white shirt so even though it is 35 degrees (Celsius) out Jeongin never sees y/n in anything but his work uniform which is a long sleeve button down white shirt.

After 2 months of (not really) subtle crushing Jeongin asks y/n for his phone number, they chat for a few days and then go on their first date in early October.

The date is a sweet, cliche outing, Jeongin is a blushing mess 90% of the time and y/n treats him with so much care. Dates aren’t that frequent after the first one but just before winter Jeongin and y/n make it official.

At this point it is so cold that there is never a moment for Jeongin to see y/n without a coat, hoodie or long sleeved shirt, so he lives a life of blissful ignorance for almost a month.

And then one day he is sitting at the counter in the cafe, y/n is just finishing his shift and Jeongin is waiting for him.

The manager walks by and tells y/n to clean up before he hands over to the next person and so y/n moves to the sink and rolls up his sleeves.

Jeongin isn’t really paying attention, he’s a little focused on his phone, but then he looks up.

😯 = Yang Jeongin when he saw y/n’s tattoos.

“Your face literally just derailed.”

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.”

“Well you didn’t really ever get a chance to see them.” Silence.

“I am sorry I probably should have told you before this.”Jeongin doesn’t respond to that, he doesn’t know how to, so he sits in silence contemplating the situation, while y/n finishes up. When they walk out of the cafe it is in strained silence, Jeongin doesn’t like it at all.

“Can I see them?”

“Sure, let’s go sit somewhere.”They end up on a park bench, y/n with his sleeves rolled up and Jeongin carefully tracing the ink covering y/n’s arm his eyes widened in awe.

“What’s the meaning behind thisone?”

“Nothing really, I got it because I thought it looked nice.”Jeongin laughs lightly and goes back to studying the tattoos on y/n’s arm, now that he is over the initial shock of discovering the tattoos he is enraptured by them.

He’ll probably stare at them whenever y/n wears something short sleeved, or rolls up his sleeves.

He genuinely thinks they are really cool and thinks his boyfriend is like a million times cooler with them.

325 notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Sorry for your loss - Final Chapter

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.

Chapter Warnings: Mention of Smut, Brief Smut.

Tag list: @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @imapotatao // @aimezvousbrahms / @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @myperfectlovepoem

Author’s note: I don't know what to say exactly, just good reading, and sorry for any spelling/translation errors. I hope you enjoy the ending, and who knows, maybe a second season?

Read on AO3 || Serie Masterlist here

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Chapter Five - I will love again

You were up early on the weekend.

Since you were going to travel to New Jersey for Wanda's father's wedding anniversary, you didn't want to keep her waiting.

When you arrived at Wanda's house, she was already on her feet, running back and forth through the house, trying to find Tommy's lost toy, who kept crying that he wouldn't travel without it.

"Make yourself at home, I just need to find that bear." She said to you as she opened the door. You placed your only luggage on the floor as you looked around. Billy was watching television, and Tommy was sitting on the kitchen counter, crying.

You walked over to him.

"Hey, Tommy, why are you crying?" You asked stopping beside him, keeping your voice calm so as not to make him more nervous.

"I want my teddy bear!" He cried out between tears.

"Mommy will find it for you." You reply. "What is the name of your teddy bear?"

"Star Lord." Sniffles the boy. Your distraction is working, because he stops crying to talk.

"Wow, that's an incredible name!" You say. "How did you get the Star Lord?"

Tommy sniffles again, wiping his tears with his forearm.

"I got it for my birthday." He counters. "Billy got a skateboard, but Star Lord is cooler."

"Is that so?" You retort with interest in your voice, realizing that Tommy was barefoot and his socks were on the countertop, you show him that you are interested in hearing him talk as you help him finish getting dressed for the trip.

"Yes, it came in a huge, red box." Tommy counted with a smile as he gestured at the size of the object. "And he sleeps with me every night, so I need him to go to Grandpa's house."

"Oh, yes, of course you do." You agree with a smile as you tie the boy's shoelaces. "Do you remember the last place you played with Star Lord?"

Tommy sniffles thoughtfully.

"I don't know." He replies tearfully, you rush to ask about his favorite memory with the bear to avoid him to cry again, and it works.

When you finish tying the child's shoes, you pick him up on your lap as he tells you about the day he took Star Lord swimming, and then you sit him down in the living room next to his brother, and he is distracted enough by the cartoon on the TV to forget about the teddy bear.

Wanda joins you in the living room a minute later, looking nervous and with her hands empty.

"Hey, I think I have an idea." You tell her as you mentally review the things Tommy said. "Finish getting them to the car, I'll go find the bear."

You found it.

Ten minutes after you left the room, inside the pool.

Wanda couldn't hold back her laughter when you arrived in front of the car with your wet clothes up to pool height.

"Your idea was to get into the pool instead of using the cleaner to reach the bear?" She teased as soon as you handed her the toy. You laughed awkwardly, watching her give the bear to Tommy and seeing the boy celebrate excitedly. "You're not getting in my car wet like that."

You laugh, and then you have an idea. Approaching Wanda with open arms, you see her raise her finger in warning, but you are already hugging her with wet clothes, making her laugh.

The joke only ends because Pietro is parking the car in front of the house next, looking at you both curiously.

"Should I let dad know we're going to be late?" He teases putting his sunglasses up. You let go of Wanda as both of your giggles slowly stop, the two of you looking like children who have been caught up to mischief. "Come on girls, we have a road ahead of us."

"Shut up Pietro." Wanda grumbled humorously, starting to push you into the house by the shoulders. "Watch the boys while we get changed."

"Yes, ma'am." He retorted wryly as he took off his seat belt and got out of the car. You let Wanda push you inside.

Upstairs, you had smiles on your faces as she searched for clothes that would fit you.

"Are you sure it isn't better if I grab something I brought in my suitcase?" You ask distractedly as Wanda rummages through the closets.

"I don't want you to be one change of clothes short, I don't know what we'll end up doing over there." Wanda retorted. "And don't worry about it."

Wanda eventually handed you a set of very soft sweatshirts and underwear. You smiled in appreciation, looking away from the clothes in your hand to the woman in front of you.

As you turned toward the bathroom, Wanda spoke.

"You can stay."

Swallowing dryly, and ignoring the unregulated beating of your heart you turned to her again, one eyebrow raised not sure you had understood correctly.

Wanda sighed heavily, as if she was gathering the courage to say it again. But her gaze said it all. She was inviting you to change in front of her.

You felt your face heat up, but you gulped dryly, forcing yourself to reason correctly.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Wanda retorted in defiance, and you let out a breathless laugh. She seemed to misunderstand your reaction, because her expression immediately fell. "Oh, you don't want to. Damn it, I..."

"What?" you interrupted quickly. "No, Wanda. I want to." You confess half breathlessly. "I really do."

"Oh."

You shift your weight between your feet, feeling your stomach turn with the way Wanda looks at you.

"But not like this." You say, swallowing dryly to confess correctly. You approach Wanda slowly as you speak. "Not in a hurry." Wanda breathes heavily, leaning back against the cabinet. You stop walking just inches from her body. "I want to be with you, with enough time to kiss every inch of your skin.” You confess again her lips. “Touch every spot that will make you lose control and scream my name."

"Fuck." Wanda gasped against your mouth, almost near enough to touch while closing her eyes.

Ignoring the tightening sensation at the tip of your stomach, you fought your baser instincts and pulled away, sighing.

"Let's hurry before your brother comes to get us."

You smiled at Wanda, ignoring the urge to kiss her. She just nodded, trying to normalize her breathing. You took advantage of her lack of reaction to turn around and walk towards the bathroom. You had better get out of there soon, because you feel that you couldn't resist that woman again.

//-//

Tommy and Billy were singing in the back seat as you drove to New Jersey. You laughed at the scene, thinking they were adorable.

Your gaze was watchful on the road, following Pietro's car to his father's house.

When Wanda began to murmur the song, you looked at her for a moment. Absolutely stunning, with her red hair flying in the wind, the smile in the corner on her lips. The sunlight making her eyes sparkle.

Turning your attention forward because Wanda caught you looking, you bit back a smile, feeling your heart race a little. But neither of you commented, and you didn't care that Wanda was looking at you now.

//-//

When you arrived, you whistled impressed at Erik's residence. It was practically a mansion, but really it was just a very well built summer house. The neighborhood was very nice too. Wanda smiled playfully at you when she noticed your reaction.

The boys ran out of the car, excited to hug their grandfather who was already waiting for them at the door. They also hugged Charles, who was a short, balding man, very friendly.

"Grandpa, can we go ride the horses?" Tommy asked excitedly, and the man laughed lightly.

"Go wash your hands and get something to eat first okay, boy?" Erik said to the boy, ruffling his hair.

The child agreed, entering the house along with his brother and his cousin, who had gotten out of the cars shortly after.

You were unpacking the bags from the car after parking and felt your breath catch when Wanda picked up one of the bags and caressed your hand with her fingers as you handed it to her. She smiled innocently, passing you to walk toward the door, and you cleared your throat before closing the trunk and following her.

"You must be Y/N." Erik greeted you as soon as you came to the door. "It's very nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Erik." You replied with a smile. "And you too, Charles."

The man smiled, giving you room to pass him and enter the house. Wanda was standing in the living room next to Pietro and Monica, who had their suitcases on the floor.

"Papa, which rooms are empty?" She asked the man who had entered behind you.

"You can occupy any one upstairs." Erik warned closing the door as he and Charles entered.

You accompanied the group upstairs. Wanda placed the boys' backpacks in one of the bunk rooms, since the children always slept together.

"You can have the room down the hall." She said, showing you the direction. "Next to mine."

She whispered the last part like a secret. You wanted to ignore how your stomach churned at the suggestion. Pietro and Monica passed you both, the man gave you a playful look, but made no comment. They would be in the room across from yours and next to the children's.

You guessed that the other door at the other end of the hall belonged to Erik and Charles

After putting your suitcase on the bed, you left the room. Pietro opened the door at the same moment.

"Come on, Y/N, I'm going to give you a full tour of the Maximoff residence." He announced excitedly and you giggled, following him around the house.

//-//

The Maximoff residence was much larger than you thought it was. There were even stables and a large wooded area that was part of the place, but Pietro didn't take you there, he just pointed you in the direction. You eventually discovered that the place used to be a simple farm, inherited from Pietro and Wanda's paternal grandparents, and when Erik married Charles, they renovated the place with money from the Xavier family, who were British and had a fortune built up in the vineyard area.

Pietro led you back to the kitchen when he finished showing you the property, patting you on the shoulder as he sat down on the kitchen counter, grabbing the jar of candy on the counter.

"The guests will be here soon, Pietro, get down from there." Warned Erik noticing his son's position. He was in the kitchen too, finishing sorting out some of the appetizers. During the tour, you noticed the decorations set up in the gardens, some tables and chairs and party decorations.

"Yes, papa." Grumbled Pietro as he obeyed. He reached over to accept the tray of food his father handed him.

"Take that outside please." Erik asked and you moved to get out of the way of Pietro, who gave you a wry smile as he passed, making you laugh slightly.

"Can I help too?" You asked noticing that there were still things to be carried.

"Thank you, dear, you are very kind." Erik said as he handed you one of the trays. You nodded and then turned around.

The garden was really nicely decorated, you noticed now that you were up close, placing your tray on one of the tables. There was also a small stage, which you imagined was meant for Erik and Charles to repeat their wedding vows. You smiled, remembering how your marriage to Natasha had gone. It was just nostalgic to think of her now, and it didn't make you unhappy anymore.

"I think you're all set now." Erik said behind you, arriving with a tray and placing it on the table next to yours. Pietro who had left earlier, was stealing one of the candies and received a disapproving look from his father. "Really, boy?"

Pietro laughed, raising his hands in surrender.

"I'm hungry, papa." He playfully retorted and you laughed at the interaction.

"Go help the ladies with the kids." Erik commands with a grimace, and Pietro laughs as he walks away. When he leaves, you feel slightly anxious about being alone with Wanda's father, but his posture is friendly. "I haven't had a chance to talk to you properly, Y/N. Would you like to take a walk with me before the party?"

You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when you agree. And Erik takes one last look at the decorations before leading the way.

//-//

A few minutes of walking later, where Erik asked you several questions about your life, your job, your age, who you lived with, that sort of thing, you reached a plantation area. You imagined it to be the vineyards of the property.

You could see the manor house in the distance, and the backyards, and a lake many meters away. The landscape was breathtaking.

"It's beautiful here." You comment beside him.

"Yes." Erik agrees with a smile, also looking at the scenery as you do. "I enjoyed your conversation, you are as lovely as Wanda usually tells us."

The comment makes your cheeks warm, the image of Wanda talking about you makes your heart soar. Erik seems to appreciate the way you react to it, smiling gently as he adds, "It's nice to know she's found someone nice to love."

You swallow dryly, glancing quickly at the man next to you, but he has his gaze on the landscape. You feel a warmth in your chest, mixed with embarrassment and happiness.

"Thank you, Erik." You say clumsily.

"For what?"

"For accepting me here I guess." You retort with a smile. "For having me into your home. And well, for saying those things about me and Wanda." You say and he makes an understanding noise through his mouth. You are silent for a moment, until he speaks again.

"You know, when Magda, their mother, passed away, I thought I would never love anyone again.." Erik tells nostalgically. He keeps looking at the field in front of you, but you stare at him, attentive to his words. "But then I met Charles. And well, it did. It's different from what it was before. And I wouldn't change it for anything."

You nodded in understanding, letting the words echo in your head. You also think about how Agatha said you could move on. There was no problem in loving again, as intensely as before.

"I figured I'd be uncomfortable talking about someone marrying my daughter, but here we are." Erik comments humorously a moment later, making you chuckle awkwardly. "I guess it must be the way you look at her. You look like a lovesick puppy. "

You scratch your neck awkwardly, looking at the scenery, making Erik laugh at your blurriness.

"Don't get upset, I'm just teasing you." He comments with a smile, patting you on the back. You laugh clumsily.

"Do you guys have a garden around here?" You ask trying to change the subject, just as you notice the glass structures in the distance, capped by the vineyard. You figured if you turned around you would find your way to them.

"Oh, yes." Erik confirms. "Charles loves gardening. We have two greenhouses over that way. Would you like to see them?"

"Yes." You confirm with a smile. "But it can be after the party."

"Oh yes, I should get back and welcome the guests." Erik agrees as he checks his watch. You start walking back to the area of the house next.

//-//

You meet a lot of people at the party. It's a little overwhelming, because you really didn't expect Erik to invite so many people, and although you're glad that they had so many friends, your anxiety has increased a little. You were smiling politely at two ladies who said they were Charles' college friends while trying to pay attention to the story they were telling when Pietro rescued you.

"I need to steal my sister-in-law for a second ladies." He said and you widened your eyes. He only realized the mistake of his words when he noticed the looks on the women's faces in front of him. " Shit, I don’t mean like she got married to Wanda... I..."

You snuck out from behind Pietro when the ladies started attacking him with questions about the wedding, and when the ceremony had taken place and why the family wasn't called. You took the opportunity to escape when Pietro was convincing the ladies that you were not Wanda's wife, and that there was no secret wedding.

Walking over to one of the far tables, you frown in disbelief as you watch Luna run under the food table, clearly looking for a place to hide from her cousin, who is looking around a few feet away.

You crouch down, pulling the towel up to speak to the child.

"Luna, honey, maybe that's not the best place to play." You tell her with a smile. She looks around.

"Sorry, Aunt Y/N." She asks. "I'm hiding from Billy."

"Oh, is that so?" You ask extending your hand to her. She accepts, and you help her stand, taking care that she doesn't hit her head on the table. "Do you remember the path we took when we first got here? Try to hide behind that tall statue, I'm sure Billy won't find you."

"Wow, that's right, Auntie. Thank you." She mumbles, leaving with her head down next, watching for any sign of her cousin. You smiled, knowing that everyone at the party would get a glimpse of the children playing if she stood where you spoke.

You noticed that the two women who were talking to Pietro looked at you, and not wanting to be dragged back into that conversation, you made your way back to the house.

Bumping into Wanda on the way, you giggled.

"There you are." You remark.

"Where were you?" Wanda retorts with a mixture of curiosity and humor, noticing your "escape mode" posture.

"Well, apparently all of your father's friends like to meet everyone, so I've spent the last thirty minutes being introduced to everyone at the party."

Wanda gave a pout of pity.

"Sorry, dear." She says and you smile awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. "I'm looking for the boys, they need to change for the suits."

"I saw Billy in the gardens." You tell her as you gesture briefly in the direction. "I'll go find Tommy for you."

Wanda smiles, biting her lips. You nod but when you make mention of moving away, she holds your forearm and moves forward, depositing a kiss on your cheek.

"Thank you, sweetheart." She whispered, smiling mischievously at you before she turned away and left the kitchen. You bit your lip, feeling your heart racing. You didn't understand why Wanda was teasing you, but you weren't complaining.

//-//

Non Readers Pov

Wanda laughed affectionately when Billy launched himself onto her lap as soon as she found him in the backyard.

"Luna, dear, your mother is calling you too." Warned the red-haired woman to her niece who nodded turning toward the direction her aunt pointed.

"Mommy can I play after I change my clothes?" Asked the boy as the woman carried him back to the house.

"Of course honey, but you have to be careful, okay? You can't get your suit dirty."

Just before she reached the entrance, someone called her name, causing Wanda to turn her head curiously.

"Sweetie, I need to ask you something." It was Ruth Eisenhardt, a nasty distant cousin of Wanda's known for gossiping, and lots of it, about all her relatives. "I just heard from Aunt Susan that you are dating that pretty girl you brought over."

Wanda felt her face heat up, but kept her expression impassive. Before she could add anything else, the woman was speaking again.

"Of course we are all happy for you, but when I went to share the good news with Uncle Jeff, he said that Pietro had already denied this affair. Now I'm left not knowing if you're really going out with that beefcake."

Wanda let out an awkward giggle, frowning slightly at the way her cousin spoke.

"We're not exactly together, cousin." The redhead replied. "But that's not really your business."

Ruth grimaced in surprise, but then her expression changed to one of malice.

"You know, I'm just confirming it. Because after all, we don't have pretty things like that lying around in New Jersey."

Wanda clenched her jaw. Ruth was exactly the kind of girl who had a mania for taking what didn't belong to her.

"Cousin, don't flirt with her." Wanda said. "I'll only warn you this once."

Ruth giggled, surprised at the reaction. But Wanda didn't continue the subject, turning and continuing toward the entrance of the house.

"Mom what's flirt?" Billy asked next, drawing Wanda's attention away from her own not-so-pleasant thoughts about someone taking what was hers.

"It's a way adults talk, honey." Wanda explained, biting her lips thoughtfully briefly. "When they want to be more than friends."

"Like best friends?"

Wanda laughs briefly, denying it.

"No, Billy. Like lovers."

Billy makes a noise of agreement. "Why can't Aunt Ruth flirt with Aunt Y/N?"

Wanda sighs lightly, forcing a friendly expression so as not to confuse her son.

"She can."

"But you told her..."

"I know." Wanda interrupts with red cheeks. She takes a deep breath, smiling at her son. "Can I ask you something sweetie?" Billy nods in agreement. "If mommy started dating someone, would you be upset?"

Billy frowns, denying it.

"Mommy, you want to date Aunt Y/N don't you?"

Wanda's eyes widen in surprise.

"Where did that one come from?" she asked.

"You didn't like it when Aunt Ruth flirted with Daddy either, I remember Aunt Monica's birthday." He tells, and Wanda sighs slightly, remembering when she caught Ruth complimenting her husband as she ran her hands through her hair, and Wanda might have gotten a little carried away by accidentally flipping a wine glass in her cousin's lap. On the way home, when the twins asked, she said that she was upset with the way Ruth spoke to their father, and now Billy was able to understand everything. "And now you don't want Aunt Ruth to talk to Aunt Y/N like that." He concluded as if it was obvious. Wanda smiled as she went upstairs, careful not to trip on the steps with Billy on her lap. "Mommy, if you date Aunt Y/N will she move in with us?"

"I don't know dear." Wanda replied with a shy smile.

"If she lives with us, will you let her sleep in my room?"

Wanda laughed, looking at Billy curiously.

"And why is that?"

"Because she knows how to play dragon. And also tell fairy tales." He says counting on his fingers. "And she also helps Tommy with his headache, so she can sleep on our rug and when he wakes up at night, she helps him."

Wanda smiles fondly, shaking her head slightly.

"Those are very good reasons indeed." She says. "But I think Y/N would like to sleep in a bed, no? The floor is uncomfortable."

Billy looks thoughtful and Wanda laughs briefly as she sets him down on the floor, already inside his room. She helps him out of his clothes to put on his party suit that is already on the bed.

"I can sleep in your bed mommy, and then Aunt Y/N sleeps in mine next to Tommy so he won't be alone."

Wanda laughs again, denying with her head. She bends down to button her son's shirt.

"Tell you what. Y/N sleeps in my bed, and if Tommy feels bad, she goes up to his room, how's that sound?"

//-//

Reader pov

"I think it sounds amazing." You spoke as you entered the room, a mischievous smile on your lips. Wanda startled slightly, surprised that you arrived at that moment, but she smiled shyly as she looked at you before turning her attention back to her son.

"Yay, mommy!" Billy spoke excitedly. Wanda sat him down on the bed again, helping him put on his shoes. You guided Tommy gently by the shoulders to the bed, and as soon as he had a look at the suit he began to undress.

"I didn't know you were going to live with us, Aunt Y/N." Tommy comments as he removes his sneakers.

"I didn't know either." You retort, biting back a smile at the sight of Wanda's reddening cheeks. "I guess your mother forgot to invite me."

Wanda mumbles at you to shut up, making you smile.

"Mommy, you have to let Aunt Y/N know that she is going to live with us now." Billy said making you cross your arms, and turn to Wanda, joining in on the joke.

"Yes, Wanda! You need to let me know about these things." You say with false seriousness, and Wanda rolls her eyes in amusement, finishing putting on Billy's shoes and getting up to face you.

"Y/n, honey, you're going to move in with me when we get back home, okay?" Wanda asks in the same tone. You bite back a smile, ignoring how your heartbeat has quickened. You can't help but look at Wanda adoringly however, and her expression goes from playful to shy in microseconds.

"Okay, Wands. I'll love living with you." You say to her next, sounding slightly affected. The twins let out an exclamation of excitement, and break the bubble you are in. You clear your throat slightly as you turn your attention back to them, looking away from Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look great." You comment as you see the boys properly dressed next. The suits are very nice indeed.

"You can go back to the party, but be careful not to get your suits dirty. No playing in the dirt!" Wanda warns the boys, who are already running excitedly outside.

"Okay, I'll go get ready too." You say next, thinking to check your cell phone as well, since you haven't turned it on since you left New York. "See you at the party?"

Wanda nods in agreement and you turn to leave.

At the door she stops you, pulling you by the forearm lightly and raising her hand to your neck, then bringing your lips together.

You both sigh and you feel your whole body tense up and heat up all at once. Wanda pulls away in the next moment, breathing as out of rhythm as you do.

You want to ask her why she did this now, but you think the question can wait until later, because she brings your lips together again, in a kiss far less innocent than before. Wanda closes the door with one hand, and with the other she pushes you against the wood.

You gasp, letting your tongue run across her lip, and she gives you passage.

Her taste intoxicates your senses quickly, your hands moving up to her waist as hers move to your hair, deepening the kiss. You both gasp for air against each other's mouths, unable to separate.

Panting, you feel your head spin as Wanda moves her tongue against yours, slow and sensual, and you can't help but squeeze her waist tightly, enjoying the feeling of her sighing against your lips.

You switch positions next moment, pressing Wanda against the wood of the door, your knee coming up between her legs.

"Oh." Wanda moans breathlessly breaking the kiss. You move your kisses down her jaw to her neck, sucking on the skin and releasing just before marking. Your fingers play with the hem of her blouse, and Wanda brings your head up, kissing you again.

You press your body against her, wanting her to be touching you everywhere. The sensation makes you breathless, and hot in all the right places, causing you to moan.

You think you could kiss Wanda forever if she'd let you. The feeling of having her in your mouth is the best you have ever felt.

There are noises of footsteps coming from the stairs, and you both sigh when you hear them. It's Monica coming up with Luna, who is chatting animatedly. It's just what you need to snap back to reality, and slow down the kiss.

You keep your foreheads together, and your hands around Wanda until the sound becomes distant, signaling that Monica has entered their bedroom with Luna.

You let out a giggle, and Wanda follows you. You look just like two teenage girls making out in secret. When you stop laughing, you kiss her again. Calmer this time. Before you let go, she bites your lip, tugging lightly, and making you gasp before letting go.

"Come on, go change." She commands, pushing you lightly. You smile because she keeps her grip against your blouse as she tells you to leave.

"It is you who are keeping me here, Maximoff." You tease with a smile. Wanda smiles too, and steals a kiss from you before letting go. You stumble backwards out of the room, grinning like an idiot, but you don't care, because Wanda looks at you just the same.

//-//

Wanda looked stunning in her party dress. You wanted to kiss her again, but you knew that if you did you would smear her lipstick, and she would have a lot of inconvenient questions ahead of her. So you just smiled, and breathlessly confessed how beautiful she looked, enjoying her flushed cheeks.

By the time you joined the party, the guests were arranging themselves at the correct places, and you joined a conversation circle with Wanda at your side, greeting a few more people.

As the sun set, Erik and Charles signaled that the ceremony was about to begin.

//-//

It was all very beautiful.

Maybe you cried between one confession and another, but everyone was emotional, so no one really cared.

Your cell phone had lots of pictures on it when you came back to the house, after saying goodbye to the guests who left when the party was over. You were holding Tommy by the hand, while Billy went with his mother, and the boys looked very tired.

"Let's go to bed, okay?" Wanda warned the kids as they followed her upstairs.

Erik wanted to open a bottle of wine, so after the kids were in bed, all the adults were outside on the balcony. Wanda sat very close to you, and you resisted the urge to put your arm around her.

"I guess I'll never get used to parties." Erik then comments, smiling nostalgically, making the group smile.

"I hope you're looking forward to the twenty-year anniversary one, papa." Pietro humorously retorts, and Erik laughs, looking at his husband tenderly.

"I look forward to it."

You smiled at the passionate way the couple looked at each other. You wondered what it must be like to stay married for so long.

"I know we are all tired, but I had something to tell you." Erik then says, exchanging a look with Charles before continuing. "It's about the farm."

"What about the farm?" Pietro asked curiously.

"It 's yours."

Pietro frowns in confusion, looking at Wanda, who has the same look on her face.

"Papa, what?" Wanda asks, and Erik lets out a short laugh.

"You know I've always wanted to remodel this place, ever since you were kids." He recounts. "And Charles and I finally did it. But now we're old. And you two have your whole lives ahead of you, and well, you are our family. So Charles and I agreed that the house should belong to you both."

Wanda and Pietro exchange incredulous laughter.

"Papa, what? Are you sure?" Wanda asks looking from her brother to her father and stepfather. The older men just smile and the next moment they are hugging their children. You and Monica exchange looks of amusement.

"So, does this mean we're moving?" Monica comments once everyone is seated, and elicits a giggle from the group.

"Let's save all this serious talk for tomorrow, shall we?" Erik asks with a smile. "Today, let's just enjoy the stars."

"Someone is feeling romantic." Charles jokes making the group laugh.

"Papa, tell us some of your stories." Pietro asked with a smile, and Erik sighed, taking on a thoughtful expression.

"Um, let's see." He begins. "Have I ever told you about what happened in Budapest...?"

//-//

It was quite late when you and Wanda were finally alone, after Charles and Erik came in, you stayed talking to Pietro and Monica for a few more minutes, until they walked in as well.

You smiled at Wanda as she leaned back in her armchair to face you cross-legged, and you mimicked her position.

"Hey." She called out to you with a smile.

"Hey."

"Did you enjoy the party?"

"Yes." You assured her tenderly. "It was pretty good actually."

Wanda nodded slightly, her gaze falling momentarily to your lips.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything you want, Wanda." You retort, making her smile.

The redhead looks intently at you.

"Did you mean it?" She asks and you blink in confusion. "About moving in with me."

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you smile.

"You're not even going to ask me out first, eh?"

Wanda laughed, looking away with flushed cheeks. You swallowed dryly, lifting your hand to turn her face toward you again, stroking her cheek lightly. God, Wanda was beautiful. Her bright green eyes looking back at you, the way her hair fell around her face, every part of her.

"Don't you think we're happening too fast?" Wanda asks insecurely, you don't put your hand down, enjoying the feeling of her skin.

"It depends." You answer letting your gaze wander to her, your free hand searching for hers in your lap, twining your fingers together.

"On what?"

"If you care about me..." You whisper as you bring your faces closer together, stopping when your lips are almost touching, and you and Wanda both close your eyes in anticipation. " As much as I care about you."

You kiss Wanda before she responds. Sweetly and softly. The sensation makes you smile against her lips, and you ignore the urge to deepen the kiss to pull away.

"Is that your way of saying you're in love with me?" Wanda teases half breathlessly a minute later, her tone playful and confident, but her rosy cheeks give away how affected she is. You think she's irresistible.

You laugh lightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face before looking into her eyes.

"I'm in love with you." You confess simply, watching her blink in surprise and amazement. "So, you still think it's too fast?"

Wanda smiles, denying it, and then approaches you.

"I'm in love with you too" She confesses as a secret against your lips. You feel your stomach rumble with nervousness and excitement, but you don't say anything else, because Wanda kisses you again. She asks for passage with her tongue a second later, making you sigh.

You hold your mouths together in a passionate kiss for long minutes, panting against each other' lips as Wanda moves to sit on your lap with her hands on your neck while your hands move up to her waist. You feel hot and bothered, squeezing her skin as if you want to merge with it. It is only when your kisses begin to move down to her collarbone that Wanda gasps saying that you two should go upstairs.

She moves off your lap, breaking the kiss, and you bite your lips, chasing her mouth again. Standing up, Wanda slides her tongue against yours one last time, making your head spin, before she pulls away, smiling at you as she pulls you by the hand into the house.

She signals with her finger for you to be quiet as you enter, and you swallow dryly as you observe the way her eyes are dark.

Getting to your room seems to take forever, especially since you can barely breathe, but finally you arrive.

Wanda locks the door after you enter. And then the atmosphere changes, because you both know what is about to happen.

She smiles shyly at you and you hold out your hand to her, leading her to sit on the bed beside you.

You exchange a glance before you sigh softly, slowly moving closer to her face. When you kiss her, much more tenderly and gently than any other time, Wanda melts.

She raises her hands to your neck, deepening the kiss as she falls onto the bed and takes you with her. You kiss her firmly, swirling your tongue around hers slowly, making her shiver.

There is no rush in what you are about to do, and you certainly want to enjoy every second of it.

You rest your weight against Wanda, enjoying the feeling of having her beneath you, and the sound that escapes her throat. Your mouth separates from hers only for you to move your kisses down her collarbone, causing Wanda to close her eyes and sigh.

Your hands reach behind her back to pull down the zipper of her dress. When your fingers make contact with her exposed skin, Wanda bites her lips, entwining her legs together in search of more friction.

Your kisses move down as you pull the dress off her body, Wanda shifting on the bed to help you undress her. You move away from her neck to remove the piece completely, your gaze falling to her exposed skin the next moment. The redhead blushes at your stare, but all you can do is admire. The sight of her bare breasts makes your core throb, and you feel the urge to touch and kiss every inch.

You kiss her again in the next second, but part your mouths again quickly to move your lips down her body.

At the first touch on her breasts, Wanda gasps loudly. You smile, controlling the urge to tell her not to be so loud, but you are distracted by the growing heat in your core when you suck on her nipple and she whimpers, bringing her hand to your hair to keep you there.

Dividing your attention between the nipples, you kiss, bite, and suck the sensitive skin, keeping enough of it in your mouth for the skin to be marked red, which elicits a hearty moan from Wanda.

As your kisses begin to descend again, Wanda's body tenses. You kiss at the height of her navel before looking up, and already find her looking up at you with darkened eyes, biting her lip.

"Everything okay?" You ask in a sigh, trying to reason properly out of the bubble of lust.

Wanda's hesitation causes you to raise your face back toward her again, keeping your hands by her side so as not to fall against her body.

"What's wrong?" You ask gently, trying to find any sign of discomfort.

"Nothing." She says with a shy smile. "It's just... it's the first time I... since..."

"Yeah, I know." You interrupt half breathlessly, knowing exactly what she is referring to. "Mine too." You confess, but at this point, you knew she should have guessed it too. You have been grieving partners for quite some time, after all. "Do you want to stop?"

"No." Wanda quickly denies, biting back a smile. "I feel good."

You smile, nodding in agreement.

"Me too."

You kiss Wanda gently again, but before the kiss gets more heated, you pull away to whisper against her lips. "Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at any time."

Wanda nods, bringing your lips together next.

//-//

When you awake, it is probably the best sleep you have had in months. Wanda is curled up on you, her clothes spread across the room lit by the sunbeams from the window.

You mumble that you have to get up because the children will be up soon, but Wanda says that her father will take care of them, and kisses you until you completely forget where you are.

When you finally get up, and go downstairs for coffee, neither adult comments at all on the way Wanda's hand remains in yours throughout the meal.

//-//

While Wanda is talking to Pietro and Erik about how they are going to organize the inheritance of the farm, and the children are playing in the backyard in front of the veranda, you decide to call your mother.

You end up learning that she got a buyer for your apartment, but you tell her that you would deal with these matters when you get back. After checking email and that sort of thing, you turn off your cell phone again.

Taking one last look at the children, you walked back into the house, catching a small piece of the conversation of the others in the living room about what would be done about Wanda's flower shop, but you didn't intrude.

"We know a lot of people around here, Wanda." Charles was counting. "I'm sure we'll be able to find a new location for the flower shop."

Wanda looked slightly apprehensive, probably considering all the consequences of the relocation, but she relaxed her posture completely when you entwined your hand with hers.

When the conversation was over, it was decided that the families would move to the farm. Selling the properties in New York would take some time, but they would still move to the city during the vacations. It was going to be a rush, but Erik and Charles were willing to help too.

Since you guys were leaving that afternoon, you went back to your room to pack. And Wanda joined you a moment later, kissing you on the cheek before sitting down on your bed.

" All good?" You asked as you folded your socks.

"Yeah." She confirmed with a smile. "I'm just trying to believe that all this is really happening."

"It's not every day we get a farm, is it?" You joke making her laugh. Wanda bites her lips next, looking at you fondly, and you look away to your bag, feeling your face heat up.

"I forgot to ask you something yesterday." She begins somewhat shyly. You frown slightly, muttering for her to ask. "Are we dating?"

You laugh in surprise, throwing your folded party clothes into your suitcase, before approaching Wanda, raising your hand to her chin.

"What do you think, love?" You ask against her lips, dragging your mouth down her jaw to the height of her ear. "After what you did with your tongue yesterday, you're not going anywhere."

Wanda gasps, clenching her hands in the bed. You smile because you know the memories have hit her all over again. But you turn away next, smiling innocently at the woman in front of you before turning your attention back to the suitcase.

"I don't get a ring?" She teased next, making you laugh briefly. You looked back at the door before advancing against her, kissing her firmly, completely overturning her confident posture. When Wanda sighed against your mouth, you pulled away, and she grumbled, her hand reaching up to grab your belt and pull you back to her, but noises of footsteps made her give up.

Soon the boys came running into the room, talking excitedly about living on the farm and riding every day, and you wanted to laugh at the way Wanda had to disguise how affected she felt by your small make out session to answer her sons' questions.

//-//

After saying goodbye to your hosts with hugs, you sat in the back seat with the boys, because Tommy insisted that he wanted to show you a video game. Wanda drove you to your apartment, and after getting your suitcase from the trunk, you waved goodbye to the boys, and approached the driver's window.

"I'll call you, okay?" You tell her with a smile, Wanda nods, and you kiss her. Tommy and Billy make disgusted noises in the back of the car, and you and Wanda laugh as you part.

Waving to everyone in farewell one last time, you wait for Wanda to leave with the car before you go into the house.

"Kissing girls on the doorstep, heh? Looks like high school all over again." Your mother teases from the kitchen just as you enter. You laugh as you close the door.

"Spying through the kitchen window, Mom? And I thought I was a grown-up." You retort in the same tone as you walk to the kitchen to greet her with a kiss on the forehead, tossing your suitcase on the counter afterwards.

"Are you really dating then?" Your mother asks and you murmur in agreement. She smiles. "I'm so happy, honey. I can't wait to prepare for the wedding."

You roll your eyes humorously, picking up an apple from the countertop.

"We need to talk about your apartment, by the way." She starts again, looking through her briefcase for something. "I've found buyers, and well, I'm already looking at some houses for you, too." She says as you take a seat next to her at the table. "Of course I love having you here, but we both know you can't wait to have a place of your own again."

You sigh lightly.

"Yeah, Mom." You confirm. "About that..."

//-//

"You're late." Agatha remarked as soon as you stumbled into her office. You gave her a lopsided smile, closing the door as you entered.

"Sorry, I had a date and lost track of time."

Agatha raises her eyebrows at you.

"A date, hm? Let's talk about it then."

//-//

You had just deposited Melina's share of the apartment in the bank when your cell phone vibrated.

A message from Bucky, asking if you were coming to therapy with him today, as he was already at the station. You reply with an emoji, and a text saying coming.

//-//

"I am immensely happy for your progress, even though I am upset that you will not be continuing with us." Stephen says to you and Wanda, in your last group session.

"Well, New Jersey has its support groups. But this one is always going to be special." You tell him as you lightly tap his arm. Stephen smiles as he hands you the progress brooches. Wanda has her hand intertwined in yours, and the man in front of you looks at that before commenting.

"You know, I always find it curious the way pairs develop in the group." He comments. "We never ask that the activities be romantic, but still, many of them end up falling in love."

You and Wanda exchange a mixed look of embarrassment and happiness.

"I guess we have you to thank for that." Wanda says next, but Stephen smiles, denying it.

"Not at all. I'm happy for both of you. After all, I always thought you would get along together." He hints last, making you and Wanda laugh softly.

//-//

"I just need to lock up and grab a few last things in the office, and then we can go." Wanda told you when you arrived at the flower shop. The establishment was now empty, as the moving crew had already passed by.

You waited for her in the reception area.

With the key to the flower shop in hand and the last files that were there, Wanda hesitated. You looked at her, standing in the center of the place, eyes watering, and smiled as you approached.

"Everything okay?" You asked as you touched her arms, stroking her to calm her down.

"Yeah." She sighs, looking around one last time before looking back at you. "It just feels like I'm ending something. Like a chapter in my life."

You swallow dryly briefly, nodding.

"Are you scared?"

Wanda smiles.

"Terrified." She confesses. "But I have you, so I know I'll be all right."

You smile, lifting your hands to your neck to kiss her. It's brief and sweet, and it's exactly what you both need to be sure you're doing the right thing.

"You're a flirt, aren't you Maximoff?" You tease with a smile, and Wanda giggles lightly against your lips.

"And you are breathtaking, love."

You felt your face heat up, kissing Wanda again.

"Are you sure about what we're doing, Wanda?" You let the words escape your anxious brain next. Wanda raised her free hand to your face, caressing your cheek.

" Absolute." She assures. "You are my future."

You swallow dryly, affected by the intensity of the confession. A shy smile escapes your lips in the next moment.

"And you are mine."

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxyn #wanda x yn #marvel imagines #sorry for your loss

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