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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 3)

(part 1) (part 2)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: mention of past sexual harassment, very mature karaoke (lol), mention of pornography

Day 63 and you still hadn’t talked about it. He’d actually gotten to know you a lot better over the past two months, even almost confessing his feelings for you with that stupid half-asleep storybook thing he’d done way back when, but you still hadn’t talked about the night you saw him looking in the rearview mirror.

Tonight actually reminded him of that night; this time was a premiere, for a movie you hadn’t actually been in but apparently you were supposed to go anyways? He didn’t get it but he figured he didn’t need to. As long as you came back alone this time, he’d be happy.

Of course, when he saw you step out to the car to leave for the venue, he was confident that would be impossible— not that you ever looked bad on a red carpet or anything, but wow… this was different.

“It’s not too slutty, is it?” you asked him nervously, spinning around to show him the back. Don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass—

“Just slutty enough,” he responded with a gloved thumbs up.

“Perfect,” you smiled, and he opened the door for you to get in the back. He took a moment to catch his breath before circling around to the driver’s side.

You actually chatted with him on the way, which was a new thing you two had started doing when he drove you. He looked forward to your talks a lot— especially the ones where you ranted about whatever was on your mind. You would usually apologize for rambling but he liked it; and, you were cute when you got really worked up about something, even if he thought it was kind of trivial.

As he pulled up to the red carpet, with cameras flashing and the indistinguishable yelling of reporters and fans, you shot him a look as if you didn’t want to go.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you shook your head incredulously, “I just… I wish you would’ve come and seen it.”

He recalled a few weeks back when you offered him a ticket to the premiere showing, but he’d insisted on just sticking to what he knew and letting your assistant have the spare ticket. “I’ll catch it on Netflix,” he dismissed.

“No, I mean, I wish you were coming with me,” you explained.

Was it hot in here, all of a sudden? Because his cheeks felt warm. “Uh, you don’t want me in there. I always fall asleep in theaters anyways. Just go have fun and I’ll catch you after.”

“Okay,” you nodded with an adorable little smile.

So he waited, wondering if he should’ve taken you up on it all those weeks ago, but decided he probably made the right call. He would just embarrass you in a place like that, more than likely, and you had enough to deal with already. He felt more useful waiting in the wings than being in the spotlight, to use a fittingly-timed theater metaphor.

It was a few hours of him killing time in the car, but he got to relax a little more since the event already had pretty good security on its own. You’d recommended a book called Flowers for Algernon to him, even lending him your copy for the time being, and so he leaned his seat back and picked up where he’d left off from this morning. Of course, if he had known that you’d be gone long enough for him to finish, and that the ending was going to make him cry, he probably wouldn’t have read it. WIth his luck, it was inevitable that he’d be all but sobbing when you texted him to pull the car around.

Wiping his tears and hoping his eyes wouldn’t be too red, he tossed the book into the glovebox and started the engine. You waved cheerily when you saw him from the entrance, and he attempted to navigate through all the other cars pulling up so he could reach you. Thankfully, you didn’t have a new friend with you this time— or an old friend. Jealousy crisis averted, for now.

“How was it?” he asked with a smile as you opened the door and slipped in, unable to hide how happy he was to see you.

“The premiere itself was a lot of fun, I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in ages; the movie, though? Sort of pretentious,” you admitted as you shut the door and he got the car moving again. “And way too long! I could watch movies all day, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch a movie all day!”

“Fair enough,” he laughed.

“What did you do?” you asked innocently.

“I finished your book,” he frowned, trying not to think about it so he wouldn’t get emotional again.

“Ah, I can tell you’re still a little hurt about it,” you smiled mischievously. “Should’ve warned you about the ending.”

“No, no,” he disagreed, “it’s not a bad ending just because it’s a sad one… it was a good book.”

You’d already been smiling, but your smile undeniably changed as he watched it in the rearview mirror. Something softer, something more sensitive. He liked this one better. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Just in time to interrupt the moment, you saw something on the passing street outside that caught your attention.

“Ooh, karaoke!” you piped up, pressing your face against the inside of the window excitedly. “Pull over!”

He chuckled at how easily distracted you were, but did as you’d asked. He barely found time to slow down to a stop before you were opening the door and running out, flashing your ID to get inside.

He groaned as he realized how completely unsafe it was for you to be in a bar… especially now, when you were at your most recognizable and literally still wearing what you’d had on at the premiere. Thankfully, he managed to pull the car around and park in the closest spot he could find, jogging to join you inside the bar and hoping you hadn’t already made too much of a scene. His hopes were dashed the moment he pushed through the door, however.

“Is she perverted like me? Would she go down on you in a theater?” you sang along with the grungy backing track of Alanis Morrisette’s You Oughta Know; your lips were curled into a faux snarl as you stood on stage with your heels in one hand and the microphone in the other.

Bucky’s head fell into his hands, looking around to see hundreds of bar patrons, nearly all of them with their phones out filming you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Bucky mumbled to himself, hoping you would somehow hear it and take his advice. Instead, you pantomimed sucking a dick with a cute little wink and everyone cheered. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“And I’m here, to remind you,” you continued, jumping around wildly; you looked like you were having the time of your life, honestly. If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve let himself smile seeing you so happy.

During the bridge, you stole someone’s water off their table and poured a bit on your head, slicking your hair back and shivering from the cold. There was something about the water dripping down your face, starting to soak your clothes and make your skin glisten...

Bucky glanced around to make sure no one was looking at him before subtly adjusting his jeans.

He watched you sing the entire song, making most of the notes and definitely capturing the anger of the original song— if clearly having a lot more fun with it than most would. The entire bar cheered when you finished, and you took a moment to take some pictures with people and meet a few fans, which he thought was sweet even if his bodyguard instincts forced him to interrupt after a moment.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he guided you away gently.

“Goodnight!” you waved goodbye to someone who was already buried in her phone and posting the photo you’d taken with her.

“Have a good time?” he asked sarcastically as the two of you began to walk out together.

“Would’ve been better if you hadn’t been glaring at me the whole time,” you smirked.

“I wasn’t glaring, I was just… watching. You have a good voice, you know.”

You seemed surprised by the compliment. “Oh. Thanks.”

“And your stage presence is certainly… energetic,” he grinned. “I bet your little charade is already trending.”

“I checked, and it is,” you giggled, showing him your phone for a moment where Twitter was open and you were the #7 topic in the United States and climbing. “And the part where I poured that water on myself is pretty gif-able, don’t you think?”

He raised a brow as he held the back door of the bar open as you slipped back on your heels and walked past him. “Is that why you did it? For the reaction?”

“I did it cause it was fun,” you corrected. “You wouldn’t know anything about that. And the water thing was just practical, I was getting hot in this dress.”

That didn’t seem to be a problem anymore with the way you shivered in the night air as he walked you through the parking lot. “Want my jacket?” he offered.

“No,” you frowned, but you eyed the leather with a hungry stare. He chuckled and took it off, draping it over your shoulders anyways. “How far is the car?”

“Uh, a block? Not much parking this time of night,” he explained.

“Ugh, these heels,” you groaned, “they hurt so bad. I don’t know if I can make it.” You began to slip them off but he stopped you.

“You can’t go barefoot out here, god knows what’s on the ground,” he shuddered; what if there was broken glass or something?

“Well, I can’t wear these,” you frowned, “and I probably shouldn’t be walking on asphalt in red bottoms anyway…”

He probably should’ve warned you before he scooped you up into his arms, but it was sort of instinct and he kinda forgot to say anything first. You squealed a little but then went lax in his grip.

“You’re gonna carry me the whole way?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s only a block,” he shrugged, adjusting you in his arms a bit before starting the walk.

It got quiet after that, the cool night air rustling the trees and blowing through his hair— frankly, he was a little chilly without his jacket, but it looked better on you anyhow. The drive home was quiet, too, or at least quieter than usual, but it didn’t feel awkward, necessarily. It didn’t feel like a lull in the conversation; it felt more like the conversation had just changed from verbal to non-verbal. You both looked around at the city lights surrounding you on the drive, silent because there was nothing that needed to be said. It wasn’t nervous, or tense, or anxiety-inducing like most of his interactions with you (or with anyone) could be.

It felt like time spent with an old friend. He hadn’t known you long enough for that to be accurate, but he was happy to think of you as a new friend. He just hoped you thought the same.

Arriving at the house, he dropped you off at the front and watched you make a mad dash for the stairs and presumably your bedroom, smiling to himself as he parked the car and came in to follow you. He saw his jacket tossed onto the couch and your expensive shoes discarded right by the door. Going upstairs and peeking into your room, he saw your limp form flopped onto the bed, your back exposed from the low cut of the dress.

“You’d better not get comfortable, you’ll kill me if I let you fall asleep with all that makeup on,” he frowned, leaning against the doorway.

"I couldn't fall asleep yet, anyways. I'm wired."

“Any plans to burn off all that energy?” he pressed.

You groaned a little as you sat up, starting to unclasp all the jewelry on your wrists, around your neck, and on your ears. “It’ll take me a while to get out of all of this— but not as long as it took me to get into it,” you laughed. “Then I’m thinking TV and beers.”

“Beers?” he questioned, emphasizing the plural. “You plannin’ to get toasted right before you go to sleep?”

“No, it’s plural because there’s one beer for me and one beer for you,” you explained with the slightest air of condescension, but he couldn’t really think of it as rude since it was an invitation.

“I don’t want to intrude on your chill evening,” he refuted.

“No, really, you’re not intruding!” you insisted, standing up and setting the jewelry on a nightstand before approaching him and turning to face away from him. “Will you unzip me please?”

He stammered a little. “I don’t… see a zipper,” he admitted with a weak voice.

“It’s on the side here, see?” you lifted your arm a bit, and pointed to it.

Reaching out to touch your zipper was reminiscent of that old boardgame Operation: he needed to touch the zipper and only the zipper, cause if he bumped into anything else nearby, he got the feeling he’d get zapped.

His breath caught a bit as he watched more and more of your skin become exposed, the zipper ending up so low that he could just barely see the top of something lacy around your hips— and he had to stop there because anything more could induce cardiac arrest.

“Thanks!” you piped up happily, slipping away to your closet to do the rest in private. “Will you get the beers while I take my makeup off?” you requested through the shut door.

“Sure,’ he replied, turning to leave but realizing he should ask first: “Shiner or Pabst?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled, and he laughed because it was a stupid question. Trodding downstairs, he grabbed the Shiners from the fridge, stopping to check his phone only to see that it had started to automatically send him headlines pertaining to you.

‘Touch of Blood’ star gives impromptu karaoke performance at Queens dive bar!

He laughed at the picture of you onstage, even though he thought it was kind of reductive to describe you by a movie you’d been in so long ago when you had so much great new stuff coming out. Jumping back up the stairs, beers in hand, he found you makeup-free (aside from some leftover mascara and eyeliner that hadn’t really made it all the way off) and in a robe, laying on the bed as you pointed the remote at your TV. He thought you looked almost more beautiful like this than you did on the red carpet; of course, objectively, everybody looks better when they’ve been painted to the point of perfection, but he liked the domesticity of this. When you were casual and relaxed like this, he could almost, almost pretend you were his girlfriend or something. And not, you know, a global superstar and his employer.

“Beer me,” you requested as he sat down next to you, handing you a bottle and trying to ignore the thorough view of your legs he was getting in that robe.

“Anything good on?” he prompted as he watched you scroll through the channels on the guide.

“Uh, not particularly,” you frowned.

“They’re showing a game,” he pointed out as you passed the sports channels.

“I’d rather watch this pay-per-view porn,” you rolled your eyes.

He cleared his throat but said nothing because he was confident there was no good response to that.

“Hey, I’m in this!” you beamed, changing the channel quickly. He nearly had a heart attack until he realized you weren’t scrolling through the porn channels anymore.

He recognized the film instantly as the one of yours that he’d seen the most, for one very embarrassing and slightly sinister reason; looking down to the corner, he saw the HBO logo and realized it wasn’t going to be edited. His palms got a little clammy but he tried not to worry about it too much.

“Oh, this girl was super nice,” you remembered as you pointed to a character on-screen. “She had a bigger role but most of it got edited out.”

“That must be a bummer,” he imagined.

“Eh, it happens,” you shrugged. “Beats getting fired, or recast in the sequel.”

“Have you ever been fired during filming?” he pressed, morbidly curious.

“Once,” you nodded. “We were only a few days into it so they had no trouble finding somebody new and redoing my scenes. Just think: I could’ve been a Bond girl if I’d slept with that producer.”

“You— what?!” he squawked. “You got fired because you wouldn’t have sex with a film exec?”

“I got fired because of ‘creative differences,’” you explained with exaggerated air quotes, “and, unrelatedly, those creative differences surfaced the morning after I refused to get down and dirty with the EP.”

“Jesus,” he shook his head, “that’s… I hope you told someone.”

“Yeah, anonymously. Somebody will care someday, but not yet. He’s still too profitable, and not enough people have come forward.”

He glanced over at you, admiring your profile as you kept your eyes on the TV and took a sip of your beer. When you turned your head and looked back at him, he realized he’d been staring a bit too long.

“What?” you asked, quirking your brow a bit.

“What?” he repeated.

“You’re staring at me,” you frowned.

“Sorry, I was just… sorry,” he shook his head and looked back ahead. What he found there wasn’t much less embarrassing, though: he knew all too well that this was the scene right before THE scene. The scene he’d watched over and over until his arousal overpowered his shame. The scene that he’d used to try to satisfy his crush on you, but it only made it worse. The scene that had burrowed into his mind and deepened his obsession even as he fought it with everything he had…

You know, that scene. And he was about to watch it with you.

Bucky was completely, entirely, and supremely fucked.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au

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kindahoping4forever · 3 years

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...Ready For It? // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone who said they wanted to read this story, whether it was in the poll I posted 12 hours ago or when I first posted In My Dreams... You Should See The Things We Do back in June (!) - I actually started working on this not that long after I posted and while the skeleton concept stayed the same, everything else was kind of fluid until last month when I finally felt satisfied with it. As always, thank you to @cal-puddies for listening to me whine and obsess over every detail and for (virtually) slapping me upside the head every time I said I was going to just scrap it (and there were many times, trust.)

Note this is a sequel but I think there’s enough context within this piece that you’d be able to enjoy as a standalone if you haven’t read or forgot what happened during In My Dreams...

Warnings: Sexual tension, frustration and resolution. I couldn’t figure out how to do specific warnings without also spoiling the narrative (yes, really) so this is kind of a blanket fluffy smut warning. The sex is explicit in detail but not extreme in nature. ‘Tis a soft, dirty story you’re about to read. Also yes, Ash wears the mountain pants again and no, I will not apologize.

Word Count: 10,555

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let me know what you think!

“I can’t say this is how I imagined getting you out of your clothes for the first time but after months of isolation, I’ll take what I can get,” you quip.

Ashton giggles as he peels off his button down shirt, leaving him in a classic white tank. “I can’t say anything about tonight has gone the way I imagined it would,” he confesses. “I’m sorry things have been kind of a bust.”

You try not to blatantly ogle his muscular build as you playfully jab, “You mean, you didn’t spend all that time longing for us to spend hours waiting outside a restaurant for a socially distant table only to be turned away because now it’s closing time and ending up having to eat drive thru burgers in the backseat of your car?”

“With ketchup dripping all over one of my best shirts? And you saving the day with a suspiciously convenient stain remover pen?” He riffs, passing his top to you.

“Exactly how I pictured it,” you shrug, dabbing at his shirt with the aforementioned magic pen. “Shame, our fantasies tend to match up a lot better than this.”

You’d never thought much of long distance relationships and you especially never thought you’d find yourself in one with only a few miles separating you but 2020 had been full of surprises; getting to know Ash had turned out to be the silver lining in an otherwise terrible year.

You’ve each reflected on it plenty and agreed it seems as if your connection was destined to see you both through this strange period. You met at the last party you were invited to before quarantine started, you ran into each other again at the last concert either of you got to attend. Your first date was also your final restaurant meal, the last time you went to a movie was with a group of mutual friends and you sat next to him, giggling like a teenager, intentionally brushing his fingers in the popcorn tub.

When the stay at home order was issued, it didn’t take long for you to check in with each other and while it wasn’t an easy time, you were grateful to build a bond with literally no outside influence. And now after countless texted inside jokes, heart to heart phone calls (and more than a few naughty ones), restrictions had been relaxed and you were finally able to reunite. Only the real world is proving to be a bit more complicated than either of you remember.

“You know, I’m not usually a ‘hop in the backseat on a first date’ kind of gal, but this is pretty fun,” you joke.

Ashton grins. “If it makes you feel any better, I think technically this is maybe our third or fourth date?”

“Anything pre-quarantine doesn’t count,” you shake your head insistently. “That was a lifetime ago, another world. I cook now, I go for walks, I do crosswords now. Whoever you went out with in The Before Times - I don’t know her.”

His loud laugh fills the car and the warmth of it overwhelms you; after months of hearing it through a speaker, you can’t believe you’re finally getting to witness it in person.

"So if we’re starting over at square one, then what’s the explanation for that kiss you laid on me when I picked you up?” He teases.

“I’m a complex woman, I feel like you should know that by now,” you reply with a coy shrug, handing him his now stain free shirt.

The two of you finish your meals, chatting happily and making non-stop jokes about what a fail your date was. You’re relieved at how natural things are flowing; you knew there was undeniable chemistry but part of you was still nervous about getting used to being around each other - another person, even - again. But beyond the standard date jitters, things were comfortable and familiar.

Your anxiety briefly returns as he pulls the car into your driveway. Of course you want to invite him in, you’ve been waiting so long to invite him in but things just feel… off. You turn, ready to offer an apologetic goodnight but before you get a chance, he’s turning to look at you sheepishly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” He rushes out, nervously running a hand through his hair. You watch him, fascinated. You’re still not used to how long his hair got in quarantine and you’re definitely not used to seeing him bashful. “I know we joked about it and I appreciate you being cool about everything but I really did want to give you the night out you deserve… and that just didn’t happen. I’d like to try again.”

Your heart swells at his sincerity; he’d always been so genuine and open over the phone, but it’s almost overwhelming experiencing it while he’s looking into your eyes. “Have I never told you that ketchup stains are one of my biggest turn ons?” You tease, hoping to ease some of his obvious embarrassment. “Hey, we’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer?”

A little bit longer ends up being the following weekend. It turns out, coming up with romantic and yet responsibly distanced date ideas is harder than either of you thought. With you both having the luxury of working from home and generally not having to venture out unless absolutely necessary, you both decide you’re most comfortable with eliminating the public out of the equation as much as you can.

You settle on a short hike followed by a picnic and when you open your front door you realize just how unprepared you are for the concept of Morning Ash. You smile to yourself as you realize that he must have overslept as his face is still adorably puffy from sleeping, hair still wet from the shower. Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow is still present - he must have been running so late he had to forego his morning shave. The thought of waking up next to him looking like this pops into your mind, that soon you could be the reason he’s running late in the morning and your stomach actually drops.

You push your thoughts aside as you move to greet him with a hug; his cologne is prominent and obviously freshly sprayed and you think to yourself that you're excited to smell like him for the rest of the day.

“Got a surprise for you in the car,” he murmurs.

You’re in the middle of wondering how he makes even a simple white t-shirt look devastating when he opens the passenger door for you. Before you even climb in, you’re instantly greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast burritos and he chuckles at the way your face lights up.

“Flowers seemed too formal for a morning date, I figured caffeine and grease was just as nice.”

“I’ve never felt more seen by a partner,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss.

You start to pull away to get in the car but Ashton snakes his arms around you and draws you back in for a few more smooches. “Figure we should get as many of these in as we can now, those burritos are no joke,” he laughs.

It’s a bit of a drive to get to a hiking trail that seemed unlikely to be crowded but you don’t mind. After months of waiting to be in this man’s presence, the more time you can spend with him the better. The trip passes quickly, with the two of you basking in each other’s company, play-arguing over playlists and agreeing that “when this is all over” you should plan a road trip together.

“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he observes, pulling the car into the empty lot. He’s first out of the car and you hear a distinct “UGH” from him as soon as he steps out. He sees your puzzled look through the windshield as he walks around to your side to open your door. “I didn’t expect it to be so fuckin’ hot,” he explains.

You get out and instantly scrunch up your face as a gust of hot wind breezes over you. “Well, we did travel more inland, I guess it makes sense it’d be a little warmer,” you reason.

You commiserate about the weather and then Ash starts gathering your things from the trunk of the car, taking non-essentials out of your backpacks since the heat is going to make your hike a lot less leisurely than planned.

Despite the weather, the first portion of your hike is nice: you stroll and talk, enjoying the scenery and your time together. Ashton brought his camera with him and you catch him sneaking a few photos of you along the trail so you teasingly start snapping an excessive amount of pics of him using your phone.

As you get closer to the area you planned on stopping at for lunch, the heat starts getting more and more intense. The morning clouds have now dissipated and the sun is bright and unrelenting, causing the conversation to drag as you both start breathing a little more labored, focusing on getting to your stopping point as quickly as possible. It takes a lot longer than expected and by the time you reach your picnic spot, you’re both exhausted and covered in sweat.

You spread a blanket on the ground and immediately throw yourself on it, grateful for a chance to rest. You look up and see Ash peeling off his t-shirt and draping it over a rock in hopes it will dry before you have to head back.

Normally you’d be silently reprimanding yourself for staring at his bare flesh on display but truthfully all you’re thinking about is how much skin he’s exposing to the sun. “Think we left the sunscreen in the car,” you declare, sitting up to dig through your stuff. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, you’re gonna get fried if you don’t throw that back on.”

He sprawls out on the blanket next to you. “We’re shaded, it’ll be fine,” he insists, pulling his sweat-soaked hair back with a rubber band from his wrist.

The picnic is pleasant but far from the romantic adventure you’d envisioned. You’d hoped the two of you would be laughing under a tree, eating a delicious meal as an equally delicious breeze grazes your skin. The reality is the two of you sitting in silence because you’re so uncomfortable under the unforgiving sunshine, eating food that you would’ve preserved better had you known about the weather, as a hot wind scorches your skin. The part of you that had fantasized about sneaking in a heated makeout can’t get enough of the irony that this date is definitely heated, just not in the way it should’ve been.

With the peak temperature of the day still to come, you agree to call it and head for the car already; Ash puts his shirt back on and you notice him wincing as he moves his obviously sunburned skin, but you choose to say nothing.

The trek back is quiet, both of you physically drained and a bit mentally defeated at yet another date gone awry. At one point, you stop in a shaded area to catch your breath and you give him a quick kiss. “Had fun,” you say quietly. He offers you a soft smile in return.

The drive home is equally lowkey, the discontent and exhaustion of the day filling where there should be sexual tension. He knows the mood has deflated considerably so he doesn’t even ask you to come back to his, he just drives you home.

The car pulls into your driveway and you turn to him. “Think we’re cursed or something?” Your voice is joking but he can detect the undertone of worry.

Ash gives you a bright smile that’s instantly a comfort. “Nah… maybe cursed with too much ambition and insufficient planning skills but I have no doubt this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” He reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.

He walks you to your door and gives you a long kiss that almost has you reconsidering inviting him in. “We got this,” he whispers.

You ruffle his hair. “I’ve also got aloe you can borrow for these sunburns, how are you even able to move?” You laugh, unlocking your door.

A few days pass before either of you broach the subject of another date; you’re finally the one to bring it up and you both agree on a simple dinner at home for the next night.

“Third time’s a charm, right?” You joke as he opens the door.

He draws you in for a slow kiss as you step inside. You murmur when you feel his facial hair brush against you; his beard is fuller than when you last saw him and you suspect he may have quit shaving simply based on the reaction you’d had to the look on your date. “Well, we’re already off to a good start, I’d say,” he comments against your lips.

You’ve only ever seen Ashton’s house in the background of your video chats and when he notices you looking around with fascination, he excitedly offers to give you a tour. You swear you can actually hear your heart going pitter patter as he proudly escorts you around, sharing funny memories about his friends involving each room or telling elaborate stories about different trinkets he owns. You can tell he’s missed entertaining people in his home and you’re so happy that you’re able to fill that void for him tonight.

You follow him to the kitchen. “Smells amazing, must be quite the dish,” you tease, knowing full well you sent him the “secret” recipe for your grandma’s spaghetti sauce the night before. He pokes at you and you giggle, “Anything I can do to help?”

“The groceries should be delivered any minute,” he answers, checking his phone. “There’s gloves and sanitizer wipes under the sink if you don’t mind taking care of that when it arrives.”

A few minutes later, you peck his cheek as you pass by to go outside and tend to your assignment. Ash nearly spirals when it’s discovered that the shopper made some substitutions without asking but you reassure him that dinner’s not ruined even if the sauce uses regular sugar instead of brown and will be poured over fettuccine noodles instead of spaghetti.

“Not to jinx anything but I think this is our best first date yet,” you joke after dinner, getting out two coffee mugs from the cabinet he’d directed you to.

“All we had to do was eliminate the variables: other people, the weather, the outside world in general,” he ticks off the list on his fingers with a smile.

You hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and slide closer to where he stands loading the dishwasher. “Well. Just proves that all we really need is each other,” you muse, with a sweet smile. He grins at you, drying his hands so that he can cradle your face and kiss you. His hands are soft from the soap he just used and you sigh approvingly into his mouth as his thumb draws circles on your cheek.

That flirty but sweet tone continues as you move to the living room; you sit on the couch, drinking your coffee, chatting comfortably. You both keep finding reasons to scoot closer together, a thick layer of tension between you. You’d each talked a big game when sharing fantasies about what your first time might be like but now that it might be here, you’re surprised by the hazy combination of excitement and nerves you feel.

It’s hard to say who makes the first move: there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly, a kiss. Ashton’s hands quickly make their way into your hair and before long, things get heated and you find yourself climbing into his lap to straddle him. This was about as far as things had gotten between you pre-quarantine and it’s as glorious as you remember.

You roll your hips above him and he groans into the mark he was leaving on your neck; your shirt rides up with your movements and his fingers softly dance over the exposed skin. As you nibble along his jaw, his hands find their way up the back of your shirt and you shiver at his warmth. You put your hands on his wrists, guiding them up, letting him know it’s OK to take your shirt off; he does and you silently thank your past self for wearing one of your pretty bras tonight.

“So beautiful, baby,” he breathes and then his mouth is back on yours, hands busy exploring the new skin on display for him. You shift your hips again and this time find yourself the one to groan, feeling him hard beneath you for the first time; you’ve spent a lot of time wondering what this would feel like and it’s more intoxicating than you ever could’ve imagined.

Ash lifts you off his lap and lays you back on the couch, peeling his own shirt off before moving to be on top of you. He kisses you hungrily and then makes his way down your body, the scratch of his beard deliciously teasing you, lips pecking over every inch of your neck before they attach to the tops of your breasts.

You pull him back up to your mouth and slide your hands down to unbuckle his belt. You brush over his length through his jeans and nearly gasp at the contact; you know he’s not even fully hard and he feels huge. This revelation has you getting impatient and you attempt to push his pants down. "Jesus dude, are these painted on or what?" You joke, struggling.

"Hey, I could ask you the same thing," he retorts, running his hands along your ass to prove his point. With a goofy smile, he asks, "Should we pause and de-pants ourselves?"

You laugh as you untangle yourself from his body and pull your pants off while he does the same. He eyes your matching lace lingerie and teases, "That’s some mighty fancy underwear you've got on there, Miss ‘Let’s Take The Pressure Off And Not Expect Anything To Happen Tomorrow Night’.”

You feel your cheeks warming at both his gawking attention and his implication you were hoping things would end up this way. You playfully fire back, "Maybe I dress like this all the time, you don't know me… or maybe I wanted to feel sexy for myself tonight." You try to pull him into a kiss but he pulls back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe I'm really behind on laundry and I only have the nice stuff left," you say with a sheepish giggle.

“That I believe,” he laughs delightedly. "Whatever the reason, you look fucking incredible.”

You intend to murmur a thanks but the way his kisses are currently being peppered in between your breasts causes it to come out as a moan instead. His fingers toy with the closure of your bra and he looks at you to softly ask, “May I?”

You nod enthusiastically and close your eyes as his mouth acquaints itself with your bare breasts, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mouths find each other again, tongues familiarizing themselves with every detail of each other. You reach between your bodies and grip the tent in his underwear; you trace the shape of him through the material and he breaks your kiss to let out a strained moan. “God, I can’t wait to make you cum,” you murmur, a bit surprised by your own boldness.

You feel Ash breathe deeply, affected by your words. “Well, I’m afraid I have a strict ‘ladies first’ policy in this house, so I clearly need to get started,” he jokes, attempting to steady himself. “Bedroom?”

He helps you off the couch and you start to reach for your discarded clothes but he pulls you along, shaking his head. “You won’t be needing those for a while,” he grins.

You follow him to his room, impressing yourself with how steady on your feet you are, how calm you feel; your heart is racing but it’s from anticipation instead of uncertainty, which is unusual for you when you’re about to sleep with someone new. You tend to make these decisions impulsively, with a bit of a “fuck now, ask questions later” attitude. The fact that you’ve waited for this long to be with him and that you feel totally at ease, wandering through his upstairs hallway in just your panties, is the latest in a series of signs telling you that your feelings for Ashton are different.

You settle on the bed while he pauses in the doorway, fiddling with the dimmer on the light switch, determined to get it just right. He finally comes over and you don’t waste any time, climbing over to the edge of the bed to pull off his boxers. His cock springs free and you bite your lip, hoping you’re not actually drooling like you fear you might be.

“You good?” He goads you with a smug smile. During a couple of your video romps, you’d gotten yourself off with toys and he teased you about your selections, calling you a size queen. As you find yourself fascinated surveying the notable length and girth in front of you, you have to admit, he’s not wrong.

You silence his remarks by leaning forward and tentatively licking his tip, closing your eyes in satisfaction when you taste a drop of precum. You roll your tongue around the head, tracing every curve and ridge with your tongue. When you get comfortable enough to wrap your lips around him and slowly start taking him into your mouth, he quietly breathes your name, brushing your hair out of your face, and you feel like you could cum right then and there.

He senses your eagerness and lets you work for a bit longer before he gently pulls you off with a heavy sigh. "Ladies first, remember?" He rasps, flashing you a dazzling smile that would've made you weak even if he wasn't naked in front of you.

He gestures for you to lay back as he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging his beard across your thighs before hooking his thumbs in your panties to slowly pull them off. You close your eyes, a blissful, close-mouthed smile decorating your face. Ash groans, gazing up at you. “Do you have any idea how many times I laid in this bed picturing what it’d be like to have you here like this?” He asks, raising himself up to kiss you passionately. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.”

His lips travel back down your body and you’re so caught up in how dreamy it is to finally feel him like this, you don’t notice he’s already made it back down your body and you cry out when his tongue licks a bold stripe up your center. You’re almost certain you feel him smile against you, proud of the reaction he’s achieved.

You run your hands through his long hair, trying your best not to tug at it too much, although you suspect he might enjoy that. He alternates between soft, fluttering licks at you and long, intentional strokes, using every centimeter of his wide tongue. It’s overwhelming but you breathe deeply, trying to maintain control; it’s when he wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking that you start writhing, your legs involuntarily closing in around his head and you tap at him to get his attention.

He immediately pulls back. “Too much?” He reassuringly squeezes your ankle, looking at you encouragingly. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, wanna do what I can to make you feel good.”

You sit up on your arms, lightheaded from both pleasure and his care. “Ash, oh my god, it feels amazing,” you insist, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I just… I really wanna cum with you in me... and I can’t always go for two… and it was feeling so good right now…”

Ashton leans up, pausing your nervous rambling with a sweet kiss. “Hey, it’s all good, I’m glad you told me,” he soothes. “Do you want to go ahead or do you need more time? We can do something else to get you ready. Your call.”

You grin and guide his hand to run along your wet folds. “I think this qualifies as ready, don’t you?”

“Alright, cheeky girl,” he teases, casually lifting his fingers from your wetness to his mouth, tasting you on them. “Still, there’s lube in the left nightstand if you want to get it out just in case.”

“Gentlemanly offer and a brag at the same time, I’m into it,” you laugh.

He giggles loudly, moving off the bed. “Gotta grab the condoms,” he explains, leaving the room.

You retrieve the bottle of lube like he suggested and tidy the bed up a little bit, adjusting the pillows to make yourself comfortable. He’s gone for what feels like a long time but you chalk it up to your excitement for what’s about to happen. You sit back, surveying the room, making mental notes about different things you want to ask him about later. Finally, you hear him call your name from down the hall and you curiously holler back at him.

He pops his head in the room, looking mildly panicked. “Please tell me you saw a box of condoms in the groceries you put away,” he inquires breathlessly.

Your heart sinks. “Um… no? I didn’t,” you take a steadying breath, bracing yourself for what seems like very bad news. “It was mostly food. And the napkins we used. Toothpaste I put in the bathroom. No condoms.”

Ash inhales sharply, nodding rapidly, which unsettles you; he comes to sit on the edge of the bed and drags his hands over his face and through his hair. “Well. This is just never gonna fucking happen, I guess,” he declares dramatically. You feel weirdly exposed now that the mood has shifted and you reach for a blanket to cover yourself with before you crawl over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. He smiles sadly and strokes over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I hadn’t dated in a while and then with lockdown… I didn’t know until yesterday what I had was expired so I tossed them and ordered some today… and they’re just… not here,” he says regretfully.

You chew your lip, evaluating how you should respond; you’re disappointed, obviously - very disappointed - but Ashton is clearly upset with himself and you don’t want to make him feel any worse. “I suppose it’d be irresponsible of me to suggest we ignore this road block by employing the old ‘spray and pray’ method?” You joke… at least you think you’re joking.

He snorts, turning to look at you with a smile on his face, which makes you feel better about things. “I’m sure you’re not serious but no, after all this time, after we finally had the perfect date, no, I’m not going to pull out and ‘spray and pray,’ he chuckles.

You smile back at him. “Well,” you start flirtatiously, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t wait to make you cum.” Your fingers dance along his bare thigh, travelling close to his softened cock. “We can still fool around, if you want.”

He looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand on his leg. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Ash, as sweet as you are, this is an entirely selfish act on my part, I really just want you to moan for me,” you smirk, moving to sit back against the pillows. “Plus this is possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been and if I don’t get off soon, I might actually die.”

Grinning, he crawls up the bed and settles in next to you. “Well. Can’t have that, now can we?” He teases in a low voice, kissing you with an intoxicating restraint. “Got anything particular in mind?” He feels you sigh against him as he gets his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast.

It takes you a second to find your voice again, still getting used to the novelty of being able to feel his touch. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth back on you,” you confess with heavy breath. “Or we could just, you know, play with each other.” You slide your hand down to find his cock, lightly rubbing your fingertips up and down his shaft, feeling it start to rise for you again.

Ash groans and throws his arm around your shoulders, turning so that you’re cradled into his side. Your hand lazily drags over his length while he holds you, kissing you with a renewed intensity. The arm around you softly massages your shoulder while his free arm is exploring your body: palming your breasts, twirling your nipples, fingers caressing the rise and fall of your tummy.

He breaks the kiss as his hand makes its way between your legs, tentatively brushing along your inner thigh, watching you closely as his fingers move to trace your lips and then your folds. He swirls through your wetness and then gently starts rubbing your clit; your hand instantly stills on him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“This feel alright?” He asks, studying your face.

You take your free hand and place it on his, encouraging him to apply more pressure. “So good, Ash,” you murmur, raising your mouth to his again, eager to have his affection completely enveloping you.

You resume your motion on his cock, stroking him firmly, listening for the hitches in his breath or gentle grunts to tell you that your instincts of how to please him are correct. You try to recall what you can from the months you spent watching him touch himself online; you vividly remember him twisting over the tip while he used his other hand to cradle his balls. You give it a try and he lets out a loud moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you familiarize yourselves with each other’s bodies, savoring the noises you’re pulling from each other because although it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard them, it’s the first time they’re being caused by you.

Ashton’s fingers tease along your entrance and you can’t breathe out a “Please” fast enough; he slides two fingers inside and starts thrusting. He starts with a moderate pace but you’re so worked up, you’re bucking against his hand almost immediately, overwhelmed at the thought of some part of him finally inside you.

You try your best to keep jerking him off but it’d be an understatement to say you’ve become distracted as his fingers move in you; you whisper an apology as you let go of him, starting to lose control, digging your nails into his bicep, whining at how you can feel it flex from the way he’s working your body.

Ash can’t get enough of how receptive you are to him so when you mutter out another “Sorry” upon realizing how red the skin around his snake tattoo is from you holding on to him, he squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. “Listen, you can scratch that thing clean off if it means I’m making you feel that good,” he teases, nipping at your neck. “Are you as close as it sounds like you are?”

You’re sure your cheeks must already be flushed but you still feel them warm up at the implication that he recognizes your noises from quarantine. You nod, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

"Do you need something different to help you finish or keep this up?" He asks, understanding in his eyes.

You groan and jump as his fingers hit your spot again. "Um, actually I think I’d like if you went back to just my clit."

He nods, following your instructions. He rubs careful circles, checking your face to see if he’s getting the pressure right. You start to tuck your face into Ashton’s chest to minimize your reactions but he tenderly pulls you back to lay with him, stroking his hand through your hair to soothe you as he feels you start to shake in his arms. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he praises, sucking below your ear. “Let me hear you, baby, you always sound so good when you cum for me.”

His raspy affirmations work in perfect tandem with the vigorous movement of his fingers and you begin to unravel. You breathily cry out his name as your back rises off the bed and your hands fly out on either side of you, one gripping the sheets, the other grabbing for his arm again.

Your hips buck, riding the waves of pleasure surging through your body. Ash watches you carefully, continuing to work you until he detects a slight wince of overstimulation and he removes his hand, deciding to kiss you through the rest of your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and while you’re definitely exhausted, you’re also eager to satisfy him in return. While he presses kisses over your face, whispering quiet praises as you settle, your hands move to explore his body again, one caressing at his chest and abs, the other taking hold of his cock, making good use of the precum he released while playing with you, starting to build momentum again.

He groans, closing his eyes, losing himself in your touch. You can't resist shifting slightly to travel down his body, pecking your way down his stomach, nibbling at his hips before moving your lips back to his cock. You suckle at the head and the throaty "Baby" you receive in return is already worth your trouble.

Ashton traces designs on your back while you suck him off; he constantly murmurs encouragement, which you appreciate because your heart is racing, this is the first time tonight you've felt truly nervous. You've always enjoyed giving head but you've fantasized about blowing Ash for so long you were slightly afraid it might not live up to expectations - for the both of you, since you'd shared many fantasies with him.

You try to pace yourself, not wanting to get greedy and take too much at once, using your hand to make up for what your mouth can't handle yet; every time you pull off to catch your breath and check in with him, he sweetly wipes at your mouth with his thumb and it's much cuter than it should be, considering the situation.

You bob along his shaft a few more times, fluttering your tongue along the underside, finding a particular vein you remember him paying special attention to. Your memory serves you correct and he emits a surprised whimper. He squeezes your shoulder a few times and you pull off curiously.

"Want your mouth on mine when I cum," he rasps.

You quickly reclaim your place laying in his arms, kissing him as requested. It’s just a few tugs until his breathing starts to stutter against your lips. "Fuck, yes, cum for me, Ash," you murmur, letting out a little moan yourself when you feel his cock throb in your hold.

Ash huffs out short belabored breaths as he moves his hand down to join yours, showing you how to work through his orgasm, adjusting slightly so that his cum shoots on to his own stomach instead of yours.

You lightly kiss him through it until he pulls your hand off of him, lacing his fingers in yours, squeezing briefly. You lay back in his arms, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

He pecks your forehead before he regrettably pulls away from you to gesture towards the tissue box on the bedside table. “Would you mind?”

You start to reach for it and then pause, deciding you’re comfortable enough to make a request. “Actually… could I…?” You trail off, raising your eyebrows as you steal a glance at his torso.

Ashton chuckles out a surprised “OK” and then you’re quickly shuffling down his body to get your mouth on his cum covered skin. He breathes in sharply when he feels your warm breath on him and his stomach flutters under your tongue as you clean him up, blissfully humming as you discover his taste.

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it out of the way, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. When you’re finished, you sit up and daintily wipe your mouth with your fingertips. You catch a glimpse of Ash looking downright dazed, chest still heaving from his orgasm, eyes glazed over from watching you eagerly volunteer to lick up his release.

With the heat of the moment having passed, you start feeling slightly self-conscious about your boldness. “Was that over the top? I feel like that was too much for a first time, oh my god,” you laugh, hands covering your face nervously. “I just… on our calls, every time I would watch you cum, I would just… think about it…” You shake your head, surprised at your own behavior.

He laughs and reaches for you, kissing the top of your head as you lay against him. "Just the right amount of 'too much', trust me." His voice gets deeper as he leans in to whisper, “I’d thought about it too, for the record. As fuckin’ hot as I’d thought it’d be.”

You lay quietly wrapped up in him for a bit longer and when you move to get out of bed, he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “D’ya wanna stay tonight?” He asks, hazel eyes swimming with sweetness and sincerity. “I didn’t want to jinx it and get stuff for breakfast but I was thinking we could order in.”

You smile brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “You can finally make me your famous coffee you’re always bragging about,” you tease.

“It’s disgusting, you’ll love it,” he grins, playfully pinching your ass as you get out of bed.

The next morning you wake up to the feeling of Ash climbing back into bed beside you. You open one eye and look him up and down suspiciously. “Where have you been?” You murmur.

He settles on his side, pulling you closer to him so your faces are inches from each other, at the edge of your respective pillows. “Ordered breakfast already, had to go unlock the front gate,” he explains, voice still thick with sleep. He strokes your hair and smiles at how you close your eyes, melting into his touch. “Sleep OK, baby?”

You feel your lips curl into a dreamy smile; you already knew you loved hearing him call you that but hearing it in his deep morning voice is fucking transcendent. “To be honest, it’s been so long since I slept next to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go at first,” you laugh, scooting closer. “You’re warm, though, which was nice.”

“Well at least I have that going for me,” he jokes with a mock pout, which you promptly move in to kiss right off his face. You enjoy a sleepy, slow makeout for a few minutes and then he pulls away.

He takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “Hey… I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night with the whole condom thing. I just got so frustrated because it seemed like we’d finally gotten it right… but that kind of negativity has no place in our relationship. Especially in a situation like that where you were feeling disappointed and vulnerable as well. So I’m sorry.”

“Ash,” you whisper softly. You take in the sight of him: long, dark curls darting out every which way from sleeping, scruffy beard you’re still certain he grew just for you, lips swollen from your kisses. His eyes are gorgeous as always but you can see the concern and remorse behind them and you feel like you can’t put him at ease soon enough. “You don’t have to apologize, it was disappointing and you don’t have to be Mr. Positivity 24/7 if you don’t feel like it. Not for me. I’d rather know how you’re really feeling.”

“I guess I thought this would be easier. We’ve had so long to think about being together and to plan for it and it’s just been a constant let down,” he admits.

You chew your lip. “Well, listen. Last night still worked out? We still got to be intimate, I still got to experience waking up next to you. Sort of,” you tease. He cracks a smile and you couldn’t be more thankful. “But what you just said, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe because we had so much time to think about this, maybe we’ve built it up too much in our minds and we’re just setting ourselves up to be disappointed.”

He nods, mulling over your words. “Like the fantasy was important during lockdown but now it’s tripping us up. If we were in more normal circumstances, we would’ve just slept together without much thought.”

“You really think your game’s that good?” You joke and he pinches you in response. “You’re right, though, I haven’t thought this much about a first time since I was a virgin.”

“So we need to find a middle ground between this idealization we’ve invented and doing it just to get it over with,” he suggests.

“Exactly,” you peck his lips in encouragement. “At the end of the day, it’s just sex. I’ve been looking forward to being with you, not to some super romantic, candlelit lovemaking experience at the end of a dream date.” “Whenever it happens, it’ll be perfect because we’re perfect,” he smiles.

The two of you carry that mentality with you throughout the next couple weeks. You hang out, go on a couple dates and even end up having a spontaneous video sex session like old times. You still burn with desire nearly every time he’s near you but removing that looming pressure to set the mood really does help put you at ease with each other. You feel more connected than ever, like you’re able to focus on him now instead of the experience.

“The drive-ins are opened back up now,” Ashton mentions during your afternoon call. “Think you might wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“God, remember movies? That could be fun,” you agree.

“A buddy of mine went last weekend, opened up the hatchback, put a bunch of pillows down, made it nice and cozy. Thought I might ask if I could borrow his car… we could have a little picnic back there before the movie,” he proposes.

You smile to yourself, loving how excited he gets planning dates. “Better bring your comfiest hoodie for me to steal, we’re gonna get fuckin’ snuggly.”

Ash loves a good reveal so when he picks you up, he’s sure to walk you around the front of the car so you don’t peek in the back of the mini SUV. You have fun teasing him on the way there, adjusting the mirrors, exaggeratedly acting like you’re glancing over your shoulder; watching his eyes go wide and hearing his stern “Hey!” simply never gets old.

Amused as he is by your game, Ashton knows how to tease you right back and when you arrive at the drive-in, before he gets out of the car to finish setting up, he offers you a kiss and a quiet warning of “Be good” that basically guarantees you’ll stay in your seat until he says otherwise.

After a few minutes, he finally calls you back there and you’re blown away at the elaborate transformation. He pops the hatchback up to reveal the back rows of seats have all been laid flat and a thin layer of memory foam lays across them, covered by piles and piles of blankets. Pillows of every shape and size adorn the setup, along with a small cooler and a tote of movie snacks. In the center of the makeshift bed is the pizza you picked up for dinner and two champagne flutes filled with your favorite soda.

“Ash,” you coo as you climb into the back of the car. “This is so fucking cute? You said your friend put some pillows down, not made an entire love nest back here.”

“Well, I may have embellished a little,” he chuckles modestly, following you inside. “One of our first hang outs was at a movie, so I thought our grand return should be special.”

You grin as you serve pizza onto each of your plates. “That feels like that was a thousand years ago but I still remember the chill that ran down my spine every time you leaned over the armrest to whisper some comment about the movie.”

“Yeah? I remember being nervous because I couldn’t tell if you were aroused or annoyed, to be honest,” he laughs.

“Oh it was definitely both at first. You talked a lot and I didn’t pay LA ticket prices to hear your commentary track,” you giggle, playfully shoving his shoulder as his jaw drops. “But then I decided I really liked how it felt to have you pay attention to me.”

“And of course what I was saying was clever and enlightening and added to your cinematic experience,” he adds on with a smirk.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, raising your eyebrows in exaggeratedly mocking agreement. He flicks your leg in response and you yelp, unable to keep from smiling at him. The two of you continue reminiscing and making easy conversation while you devour your pizza dinner. By the time you’re done, the sun is setting.

You lay back on the pillows you’ve propped up and watch intently as Ash gets rid of the pizza box at a nearby trash can. You’d both agreed that the dress code for tonight was ‘comfort’ and he went with a black t-shirt and an endearingly bizarre pair of lounge pants that feature a mountain landscape illustrated across the legs. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirt hugs his chest and biceps, drawing attention to the tattoos up and down his arms that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of. What is surprising is how the loose pants still cling to his body in all the right ways - pulling across his thick thighs and ass, making you wonder if he’s keeping things in his pockets or if the bulging in front you’re seeing is all him. You squeeze your legs together, pleased that he’s almost back at the car, eager to feel him, even if it’s just for a snugged up movie date.

He flashes you a dazzling smile as he walks up to the car. “What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?” He teases, settling in next to you. You feel your breath hitch as he comfortably rests his hand on your bare thigh, toying with the hem of your lounge shorts, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Just happy to be here,” you shrug, leaning over to peck his bearded cheek.

He hums at your affection, leaning his head on your shoulder as he fiddles with his phone, pulling up a radio app so he can tune to the station that will be broadcasting the audio for your screen. “It’s kind of a deadzone out there, there’s only maybe 5 other cars,” he reports, reaching behind you to make sure the bluetooth speaker he’s connected to is on. “Even with all the distancing, we probably didn’t need to park all the way back here.”

“I like it… Gives the illusion you rented out the place just for me, makes me feel special,” you joke. He giggles and kisses your shoulder.

The first movie of your double feature starts a few minutes later and you couldn’t possibly enjoy it more. The two of you trade jokes and snacks; it’s all just so comfortable and lovely, unfiltered and natural.

During the intermission, you decide to get out and stretch a bit before the second film starts. You notice that when you feel Ashton’s eyes poring over you as you bend and twist, you only feel pride and desire, none of the nervousness or timidity you’d felt a few weeks ago.

Once the movie starts, you sit and try to patiently wait and see if he’s going to make a move but by the time the opening credits are over, you can’t help but advance things yourself. You scoot closer but his eyes remain trained on the screen; you decide to more explicitly ask for his attention by nuzzling your face into his neck, pressing a few light kisses behind his ear, scratching his beard with your nails. “I’m having a good time,” you whisper, feeling him grin under your touch. “This was such a great idea, I’m happy you suggested it.”

He slinks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you like it,” he beams at you. “It’s fun to be out in the world again but also still pretty much alone.”

“Alone enough to do this,” you lilt, leaning in to plant your lips on his. Your kiss is gentle but urgent and he reciprocates your energy, cupping your face with one hand and using the other to press you against him, murmuring when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just when things start to get heated, one of you pulls back and warmly smiles at the other, as if you’re both excited for more but still wanting to appreciate what’s happening in this moment.

You don’t want to disrupt the makeout but you can’t fight the craving you have to feel more of him; you’re finally able to pull yourself away and you lay down on the bed, patting the spot next to you in what you hope is an alluring manner.

He moves closer and you close your eyes, ready to feel his touch. You’re startled to instead hear a grunt of frustration and the shifting of a leather seat. Your eyes snap open and you see him straining to reach into the front seat, trying to reach the keys in the ignition. You’re half a second away from asking what the hell he’s doing when you hear a distant beep and the hatchback slowly begins to close at the end of the cabin.

He plops himself on the pillow next to you. “Thought we could use a little more privacy,” he explains, grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to pull you closer. “Just in case someone else out there thinks the movie is as boring as we did.”

You start to giggle at his remark but your laughter is interrupted by his lips returning to yours. You both let your mouths and hands do as they please, exploring and enjoying without hesitation and without expectation. You’ve just peeled off his shirt and are sucking a mark at his collarbone when you feel his hand slip up your shirt to palm your breast. You give a light bite to his skin as his fingers pull at your nipple; he groans as you breathily tell him, “You can do it harder.”

A few dozen kisses later, his hand is sliding down your stomach and past the waistband of your shorts. You pull out of his kiss to whine quietly as his long fingers brush through your wetness, only touching your clit incidentally before adding light pressure.

“Good?” Ashton checks with a smile as your head lulls back and you grab onto him.

“Oh, you know… ‘s alright I guess,” you joke, your attempt at being casual undermined by the way you’re basically grinding into his hand. You let out a long moan and he quickly brings his mouth back down to yours in an attempt to silence it.

As his fingers and lips drive you wild, you find your own hands reaching for his pants and you sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock hard and ready for you. You run your fingers across the straining fabric, teasing him with one hand while the other works to loosen the drawstring.

You dip your hand inside and grip his cock, choking back a moan when you feel how much he’s already leaked for you. The slickness helps you easily begin stroking him and you shift so you can study his face, wanting to see evidence of the pleasure you’re giving him. As your thumb swipes over his tip and your fingers firmly squeeze his length, Ash’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, quietly muttering your name under his breath.

His fingers slip inside you and you gasp as pumps them in and out, dragging them against your walls, teasing your spot. It’s an intense moment when your eyes lock as his fingers work inside of you while yours glide up and down his cock, the two of you breathing heavy as you basically fuck each other without fucking.

“Ash…” You start, voice wavering.

“Yeah,” he answers in strained agreement. “Do you want --”

“Yes, yes I do. I brought --”

“So did I.”

You break apart from each other and reach for your belongings, chuckling as he pulls a handful of condoms from his backpack and tosses them onto the bed at the same time you pull some from your purse and add them to the pile.

“Well it’s good to know we’re both the kind of people who can learn from their mistakes,” he laughs, pulling you into a delighted kiss.

An exciting energy fills the car as you both shift around, getting yourselves situated. Ashton pulls back a layer of blankets from the seats in case you want to cover up and bursts out laughing when he turns around to see you’ve already stripped off your shorts and panties and are sitting there pantsless and unbothered.

“We’re parked in the back, there’s barely anyone here and the windows are fogged up,” you shrug, grinning.

You find yourself captivated as you watch him kick his pants off and get up on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before rolling a condom on. This is really happening. Finally, really happening.

“C’mere,” he breathes, reaching for you. You crawl to him and he cradles your face, kissing you softly. You nibble at his lip as you pull away and the two of you can’t stop smiling.

You climb into his lap, sitting on his legs, staring into his eyes. “Ready?” He asks you, sweetly rubbing your thighs.

You nod eagerly and lift yourself up to hover over his cock. He slicks the tip through your folds, stopping to tease over your clit a few times and then he’s watching your face as he presses against your entrance.

Your mouth drops open as you start to take him. He's so thick the stretch is instant, breathtaking and everything you've been dreaming of. His fingers gingerly brush over your hip, encouraging you as you ease him further inside you, rocking up and down until you're impossibly full.

Ash wraps his arms around you, kissing you deeply, hands in your hair then running down your back, then squeezing your ass. You feel completely surrounded by him and it’s overwhelming in the best way. You break the kiss to quickly peel your t-shirt off and then you’re reattaching your lips to his, pressing your chest against his, needing to feel as much of his skin on yours as you possibly can.

“Yes, baby, fuck” he murmurs as you slowly begin to move on his cock. “Feel so fuckin’ perfect… better than I’ve been imagining.”

You respond with a series of whimpers, so caught up in the feeling of finally having him in you. You move cautiously, almost torturously slow until you adjust to his size and then you pick up the pace, his hands firmly gripping your ass, helping you along.

You don’t even have the end goal of an orgasm in mind, you just can’t get enough of the new sensations his cock is making you feel. You shift from rocking to bouncing on him, moaning loudly each time his length hits a new place inside you.

“Ash… your cock feels so fucking good,” you pant, riding him with increasing speed, losing yourself in it. “Can’t believe you’re finally filling me up, baby… fuck.”

Your movements are bordering on frantic when you feel Ashton lightly squeeze your hips, attempting to still them, gently breathing your name. You slow down and look at him inquisitively. The mixture of amusement, desire and warmth painting his face is enough to make your pounding heart skip a beat.

“Can I?” He softly asks. You nod and he carefully pulls out of you and lays you back against the pillows before settling over you. He pecks over your neck and face as he guides himself back inside you. “Think we owe it to ourselves to slow down and live in this for a while.”

He starts to push up so he can get to work but you stop him, tucking his long hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his beard. “You’re right, just feels so good,” you grin. “Hard not to get carried away.”

Ashton kisses over your palm and begins leisurely moving his hips. He keeps a moderate pace, steady enough that you’re feeling consistent pleasure, feeling something building in your core, but not so hurried that you’re aching to reach the finish line. You hook your leg around his hip and when he pushes it slightly back towards you, he slides in deeper and his groan blends with yours to form possibly the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard.

“Jesus, baby… pussy’s takin’ me so well,” he praises, voice sounding more wrecked than you expected. “Such a pretty, giving pussy, baby… what a good girl.”

You shiver at his words, your hands running up and down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moves above you; you slide your hands down to grab his ass, pulling him closer, willing him even deeper. Ash reaches between your bodies to find your clit, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. The snap of his hips has become slightly quicker and you can tell by his breathing that he’s getting close.

“Ash… so good, yes,” you mumble, reaching down to direct his hand in the pattern you need. He mimics your movements expertly and you start rocking your hips along with him, feeling the stirrings of your climax. “Fuck, like that… god, please.”

“Yeah?” He pants, watching your body start to tense. He takes his free hand and reaches for yours, lacing your fingers, squeezing encouragingly. “Been waiting so long to feel you cum around my cock… come on, baby, cum.”

The first pulse of your orgasm hits you so forcefully you’re shocked he doesn’t react to how hard you squeeze his hand. By the time the next one hits, you’re crying out in senseless mutters from how heavenly this moment feels, how his thick cock couldn’t fit more perfectly inside you as you tighten around it. The sensations feel like they might echo forever as you start to come back down, Ash continuing to move gently in you, reassuring you in a soft voice about how incredible you feel around him.

You pull him down to kiss him breathlessly, satisfied from your orgasm but still hungry for his affection, still needing him on you. “Want you to cum for me, babe,” you whisper. “Let me know how much you love being buried in this pussy.”

Your words drive Ashton’s thrusts to become frenzied as he growls your name, followed by a raspy string of curses. He lets out a deep groan as he fills the condom, rocking into you deep and slow as he works through his climax. His head drops to burrow into your neck and you shiver at how his beard prickles your overstimulated skin. You stroke through his curls, lightly damp with sweat, and whisper in his ear, “So good, Ash… so fuckin’ good.”

He plants an exhausted but sweet kiss on you, only breaking it for you both to whine as he pulls out of you; he carefully ties off the condom while you reach for some of the leftover napkins from dinner to clean yourself up. You sort through each other’s clothes, the two of you grinning like fools the entire time you’re getting dressed.

Ash leans back against the pillows and sighs loudly, gesturing for you to come lay with him. You crawl toward him, making a small detour over the front seat to press the release on the hatchback again. You settle against him as the door opens, the cool night air filling the car again, the long forgotten movie still being projected in the distance.

“Worth the wait?” You tease, giving him a toothy smile.

He holds you tight to his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, baby… as much as we built it up, think we still might’ve undersold it. Like. Goddamn.”

You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “I’m glad we just kind of let it happen. That’s probably the best first time I’ve ever had. Definitely the most comfortable.”

“Same. Easy but still just… perfect,” he says dreamily.

You play with his fingers, chuckling, “I was so comfortable I almost asked you to cum on me until I remembered we were fucking in your friend’s car.”

“I mean, it was already questionable for us to have gotten fully naked in his car, we might as well have gone all out,” Ashton laughs loudly, squeezing your hand. “I think Cal had a suspicion this might happen, he left breath mints, condoms and Clorox wipes in the glove compartment.”

You cackle. “No blacklight, though?”

He pinches your leg and leans in to drown your laughter with a kiss. You gaze at him for a beat, marvelling at how normal everything feels for once. You notice he’s looking at you with a familiar fire in his eyes and you swear even though you were naked with him just a few minutes ago, you actually feel butterflies in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly and Ash smirks. “Was just thinkin’ it’s for the best anyways. The first time I cover you in cum I don’t want it to be in a dark backseat, I want to be able to see it.”

You quietly groan, a naughty glint in your eye to match his. You sit up and plant a heated kiss on him, pulling away to murmur, “Well. It’s still early… my place or yours?”

————-

Thank you to everyone who signed up for my new taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If your name is crossed out, please check your blog settings, I was unable to tag you)

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#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #Ashton irwin smut #Ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #Kindahoping4forever #kh4f fic #Ready For It?#smut #i literally cannot believe i am finally done with this lmao #thank you to anyone who has been holding out hope you would see this tension resolved #i hope i made the wait (for them and for you) worth it #Feedback is appreciated #Fr pls let me know what you think either via ask or your reblog tags #Reblogs are gold and reblogs with tags makes you yourself golden #idk what i'm saying formatting this took forever i really need to start writing shorter pieces or using less italics smh #love y'all thanks for reading

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hwrryscherry · 3 years

Text

The one where the reader meets Harry as Jack

characters: HARRYxREADER!FEM

blurb: Harry is filming Don't Worry Darling in Palms Springs while Y/N is moving in in her new house in the neighbourhood where the movie is being filmed. Turns out the fate wanted to cross Harry and Y/N's way as a box full of books is very intriguing to Harry and Pride and Prejudice becomes Harry's new favorite.

word count: 2.7K

author's note: Heyy guys, it has been SO LONG and honestly I don’t think this is best work yet lol but anyway, I had the worst writer’s block of my life so it was so hard for me to write a single word. Honestly, I felt kinda pressured to write. I felt like I was pressuring myself for that so I had to take advantage of this block and take this idea out of my mind. I want to say something important too; I really want to say that the only story of mine that I’ll keep the face claim is HARRYxMODELY/N, just because I like to use the photos to make instagram posts sometimes. I will no longer describe types of hair as I used to say ‘’long strands of hair’’, it will be neutral for you to imagine yourself in the story. It’s all about you guys and how you can visualize the story and the character, if you want to imagine a face claim that’s cool but if you don’t want to it’s cool too. Feel free to read and visualize, it’s all about you. Thank you for the support on my account and my writing. I’m aware that I’m not the best lol, but I also think that I have so much to learn from you just as I have to teach. I’m so grateful for everyone who reads and like my stuff. Never forget that you’re unique, you’re loved, you’re so golden and treat people with kindness always.

"Why is it so hot in here? It's fucking December!", you'd think to yourself as you drove your new car through the streets of Palm Springs. The thing is that after you moved from Columbia to reside so many years in New York while you were studying English Language and Literature in Yale, you just got so used with the usual colder weather from NY and it's just a different vibe from California. You had such a hard time to decide what you wanted to do after graduating, though. And after a few weeks and some long conversations with your family, you decided you would go to California. Palm Springs, to be more specific. You decided that because you remembered all the times you went there when you were a kid because your grandmother lived in there before she passed. You remember spending your summer vacation with her and how cool it was. It was in the early 2000′s and there was many kids on your age that lived on her street. You remember playing with them all day and then getting back into your grandma’s house and feeling that cinnamon scent that for some one only her house had. It wasn’t a usual cinnamon scent. It had something special in it. It made you feel so warm and welcomed. You remember helping her to bake the most delicious cookies, brownies and cakes in her kitchen. You remember the kitchen had a yellow counter, but the entire kitchen was white. All very pale and then the cheerful yellow in the kitchen that colored everything. You remember going to play bingo with her and how it made her happy to having you around. You both were so close and you had such a hard time when she passed, but the most important was she taught you so many things during your time together, and you’d never forget those things and her.

As you drove, you’d remember those streets vaguely. You’d pass through the soccer court you typically used to go with the other kids and spent hours playing in there. You were vibing with the song in the stereo as you started getting closer to your new house’s street. It was Carolina by Harry Styles; you have to admit you’re not the biggest Harry Styles fan in the world, but you were definitely a One Direction fan when you were around 16, but you couldn't be considered a directioner either. You just listened to a few songs and thought it was good. But anyway, this specific song is one that you particularly like. It may have something to do with the fact that you’re from Carolina, of course. But it’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were undeniably good though, a little sexual, but good. It’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were really good though, a little sexual, but good.

When you turned the right way into the street of your new home, you came across much more than you expected to see on your moving day. There were, as it seemed, paparazzi. Apparently they were shooting a movie right in your street, and it had also many people with many cameras and trailers that probably were dressing rooms. Naturally, you knew that thousands of films were shot in California, that’s obvious. But you didn't expect one to be shooting exactly on your moving day and specifically in your street, let alone that the street would be this crowded since the world is experiencing a global pandemic, ironic. You observed some of the people walking down the street, or should you call it a set? You don't know, but there were many people and many cars, at least they were all wearing masks. It had many classic cars, probably in the 40s or 50s style. They were colorful; vivid colors, though. Colors like yellow, blue and lilac was really present. To resume, the whole street looked like a movie from the 50s and for sure that was the intention because you could notice some extras walking around the set dressed up as 50s people used to.

As you carefully drive through the street, you’d notice that from what seemed like a divine miracle, there was a vacant parking spot right in front of your house and you can’t help but smile when you see it. The first time you came here to see the house. You were with your family, and that was about four months ago. You just loved the house completely as it had such a different vibe from the place you used to live in New York, and honestly, just the thought of the house made your creativity activate as it had some really cool colored walls and you bought some colored mobile as well. Anyway, you stopped the car right in front of your house finishing the engine and grabbing your mask and putting it in your face as you'd use your hand to get rid of the seat belt and your other hand to open the car door and get out of the car.

After closing the driver's seat door, you go around the car walking to the trunk where you use the car key to open it. When you open it, you are faced with two cardboard boxes. One was full of books. Books of all kinds, books of period novels, books of suspense, books of investigation and etc. Books that piqued your curiosity and made you want to finish reading it as quickly as possible. The other box was already full of clothes, those last clothes that you would finally be taking home. Your mother has done the biggest job in the moving issue; she was the one who was bringing the furniture and your things while you finished packing the rest of your things to leave New York. You try your hardest not to pay attention to the set of recordings and the people who walked back and forth, at the same time that you tried hard not to make any noise, because if you accidentally disturbed a scene, you would feel extremely embarrassed and would probably not even show up at the gate until the end of filming, but that was not the case. You removed the two boxes from the trunk just before closing it completely. You chose, perhaps, to enter the clothes box first. You bent down taking the box in your arms and walked to the door of the house where you used the key you received from the real-estate agent to unlock it before entering. You immediately noticed that some sunbeams reflected on the living room floor due to the white linen curtain that covered the glass windows. You observed the contrast of the sofa in such a light tone with the lilac wall just behind it. You walked with the box in hand by the door extension to the room where you placed the box on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. Returning out of the house, you can see the figure of a tall man dressed in a brown suit crouched in front of the box of your books. He had brown hair and properly cut. It didn't look like he was messing with your books, but he was definitely looking at them and it seemed like he was trying to read the covers of it for some reason. You slowly got closer to the man's body without making too much noise while you analyzed him, you crossed your arms upon your chest as you noticed the book cover he was looking at: Love is a mixtape by Rob Sheffield.

— This one is amazing! — You said, surprising the man that stand up fastly with the book in his hands connecting his green gaze with yours. He was tall, really tall by the way. His suit seemed perfect, just as his hair. He had a black mask on as a protection but the 16 year old teenager inside of you could never mistake those eyes. It was Harry fricking Styles. You considerated being quiet as you, yourself were pretty surprised now, but then you took your gaze to the book in his hand and then back at his face — It's like comparing love to a popular song that we usually search to define love. Just to find out that love is like oxygen, or love is a kind of drug, or a battlefield for some... — You said referring to the book with a tender smile on your face that Harry couldn't essentially see, but talking about a book that you loved caused this on you. And as you talked you didn't notice that Harry had a smile on his face as well. Maybe it was because you completely ignored the fact that he is Harry Styles and he was messing up your books as he's on the set filming a movie, or maybe it was the fact that he loved this book just as much as you did. He'd use to say this is probably one of the books that if he had to read just one book to the rest of his life, he'd chose this one and he usually had so much to talk about this book and so much to put on an argument about it but now he was completely speechless. He was just tongue tied. He was tongue tied about your reflection of one of his favorite books and how it looked so identical to his own personal reflection. He was tongue tied for the number of great books that he always wanted to read that was on that box. He was tongue tied at the owner of those books and her beauty, her intelligence of her voice and her voice as well so he just chuckled. A nervous chuckle as he leaned his head to look at the floor for a second before looking at you and holding out the book in his hands to you that calmly took it from his hands.

— I know! It's one of my favorite books! — Harry'd ultimately manage to say it as he observed you admiring the cover and running your fingers through it as a truly book lover would do — It's very interesting the interpretation you have of it.

— Don't you agree? — You'd interrupt him rising your head to examine at his face. He seemed paralyzed by some way, little did you know that Harry was mesmerized. He enjoyed the informal way you were speaking with him, and it genuinely felt like you already knew it each for years.

— That's the intriguing part. We have the same interpretation! — He'd say serenely, and then running his hand through his hair as he frown a little because of the sun that just hit on his glowing eyes.

— Well...Maybe you're just trying to imitate me to impress me! — You'd joke, with a mocking expression on your face making Harry giggle at your words and your face. It was the sense of humor to him.

— Oh really? And what makes you think I'm trying to impress you? — Harry'd say back with the same mocking tone that you formerly used. He'd observe your face go from playful to thoughtful in just as you to come up with a response.

— I mean...you were the one looking through my stuff, mister! — You say raising your eyebrows as you utilized one of your hands to take some strands of hair out of your face.

— Right... — Harry said with a defeated voice before as he compressed his lips together and moved his suit away from his shirt a little as he places his hands on his waist — I'm sorry about it, though. There was this box hanging here and I guess I was just intrigued! — He said shyly making you start walking towards the box walking closely to him causing him to feel a hot warm from your body as you passed. You'd bend over to grab the box but was stopped by Harry taking the heavy box from your hands — Let me help you with this! — Harry said as he held the box on his arms.

— There's no need for that. It'll ruin your splendid suit! — You'd say gently to him as he was standing up in front of you carefully holding the loaded box. Legitimately, he looked hot. He properly looked like a 50s husband helping with the moving with this outfit — And if you piss off your costume designer because of me I'll die! — You'd complement receiving a loud laugh from Harry's lips that shook his head while looking at you.

— She’ll be fine! — Harry'd argue back, then get a sigh from you before nodding at him as a statement.

— My house is right there! — You'd say using your right hand to point at your house, watching Harry turn his back to you and start walking towards it. You followed him through the door that was already open. Harry looked at the house immediately. It had a good vibe, and he wouldn't deny it. The choice of colors was exceptional, but he also noticed it was not very tidy, which would probably indicate that you were moving today.

— Where do I leave it? — Harry asked, referring to the box as he went farther into the living room.

— You can just leave it on the floor — You serenely said crossing your arms together and watching as he left the box on the floor and turned around to face you, but then deflecting his gaze to the ceiling before staring at your face again.

— It's a beautiful house! — Harry said as he moved his gaze through the room. He observed everything. He likes to observe. He likes to notice things that maybe other people didn't — Just like the owner, if I might say — Harry said cheekily and charming hearing your giggle invade his ears as you started walking towards the box of books that he previously set on the floor.

— The owner says thank you — You said bending down and starting to take the books out of the box and place it on the coffee table beside you as Harry watched your movements. You shyly looked at him thinking for a second and them smiling under your mask — For both compliments! — You said getting your attention back to the books. It's not that you don't want to give him your attention. It's that you genuinely think that he's just being nice, and he's probably not even interested in anything that you say.

— So... I have to go back to the film now but maybe you can give me your number so we can talk about your interpretation of my favorite book — Harry said shyly. His words took you by surprise actually but you couldn't hold back the smirk you had under your mask as you stand up again turning to face his green eyes. You noticed that he had his phone on his hand, hoping and waiting that you'd give him your number even though both of you knew that the book excuse was nothing more than an excuse as he was truly interested in knowing you.

— Well, it depends... — you said slowly as you took a deep breath before actually saying anything — If you agree to read my favorite books too, I'll give you my number!

— I'd be honored! — Harry chuckled after letting a sigh out feeling relief that you asked for something so simple that he'd love to do if that would make you happy — What's your name? — Harry said as he unblocked his phone screen and started to save your phone number.

— Save it as Elizabeth Bennet in there! — You said fastly with a proud smile on your face as Harry giggled and did as you ask and then looked at your face as he put his phone back on his pocket.

— Only if you save my name as Mr. Darcy when I call you! — Harry said knowing that after this, Pride and Prejudice would definitely become one of his favorite books ever.

#hwrryscherry #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harey styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

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aquamoonchaii · 3 years

Text

⍣ genre: fluff

⍣ warnings: heavy cheesiness

⍣ pairing: minho x reader

⍣ word count: 2.3k

⍣ collab: This is for the collab Summer Love - Stray Kids from lovie @bangchan-fairy

⍣ charlie’s notes: hope you guys love the cheesy cheese! this lovely banner was made by the precious @halliney!

⍣ summary: minho is scared of heights. maybe he is a chicken. but he meets another cute chicken that holds his hand.

Summer love is usually about sweet flings that end when school or work starts again. It starts in unexpected places with a smile and an ice cream, or with the adrenaline of meeting new places. Or at least that’s what happened to him.

Luckily, it didn’t go that way for both of you. It didn’t end!

Because it’s your third summer together and he can’t be happier. Even his feline babies love you so much, he has to bite his lips to not scream every single time Dori purrs approaching you and you coo at the kitten so cutely he just- Ugh. It’s no joke he is already searching for the perfect ring so he can propose.

There’s no way in hell he would find another soul like yours that blends so well with his, your sweet self is enough to calm him and make him feel at home, wherever he is. If you could open his heart and his brain, he would be so embarrassed because you would know he would do everything. Anything for you. You just need to say it and he is already thinking how to make it real.

But it’s ok, you won’t. Unless you are a secret cannibal and you kill him to eat his heart.

He chuckles out loud at the thought because he wouldn’t deny you his heart, you already have it anyway so he wouldn’t be upset if you eat it. You would just have to promise you won’t date another boy.

Minho just gets these thoughts as he wakes up from the nap he had holding your hand and here you are, like 10 centimeters away from him holding his hand even when you are not that clingy. The fact you are indeed a girl who isn’t into touch but you let him hug you and cuddle anytime makes him feel so good. So special. His free hand brushes your hair off your beautiful face, he can’t help but feel cheesy this moment so he caresses your cheek lovingly and kisses your forehead.

You stir a bit, but as the heavy sleeper you are, you put a leg on both of his -so he doesn’t escape and eat the last chips you mutter groggily- so he slaps your leg lightly and a small smile is on your face until you surrender again to sleep. Minho suddenly rolls his eyes. Are there people who know these intimate details about you besides him? Like you always put a leg on his body and you can’t open your eyes that easily, is there any chance there would be another guy after him who would know this? He pouts because it's frustrating to feel this way, so freaking protective. About your things, about your habits, about you. You.

Always you.

He feels the softest when you are like this, peacefully sleeping beside him in his oversized shirt and pajama pants that make you look like a homeless man. A homeless man that is going to steal his favorite hoodie, you would say. On these sunny and hot days, he has little bit of time to engulf in his feelings and think how lucky he got. Something he would never in a million years would voice out because Ew, the cringe. Especially when it’s summer. Because he gets small flashbacks about how he met you.

Hiking.

Hiking

Hiking!

What a better way to enjoy this beautiful summer than eating frozen fruits and walking through beautiful places? He originally planned to go to the mountain he enjoys the most, Jirisan but of course it would be too crowded.

So now he is here on a hiking tour. He didn't read the whole tour completely because he didn't want to miss this day and because Changbin wanted to come. And he doesn't like company when hiking or Changbin. Just kidding, he likes him but not when he whines which he would totally do in a long walk.

"Uh, sir? Are you not coming? I'm sorry but you are the last one to pass the bridge and the tour is being delayed right now." Minho bows apologetically and excuses himself saying that he would pay the extra fee to wait for the next group tour because he doesn't feel well. Of course the tour lady noticed him getting paler than a piece of paper when he was told to try sky-biking because it was included in the tour or he could pass that thin bridge that passes through both mountains. There was no other way to reach the beautiful sunset he was looking out for. But it was too high.

It looks dangerous and the vertigo hit right at his face as he is literally frozen right now, ugh.

It's ridiculous he is not going to see the sunset.

But he just can't move right now so he keeps a stern face to save himself the embarrassment and makes everyone laugh -group partners were getting really annoyed but well, Minho is funny- saying that he needed to pee because he was too excited. The female nods and makes a few calls, everyone starts taking pictures and distracting themselves as Minho looks at his phone just to notice his battery is going to die, it doesn't matter as he has a incredible high quality camera who is going to be very disappointed if he doesn't get those damn pictures of the sunset.

"Lee MinHo, right?" He nods and the female explains how this would work. So, this tour needs to keep going and as he is clearly pretty interested in hugging the tree that is right there to hold him, he should wait for the other group tour. It would cost him a lot because the next group tour has the option to stay the night to wait for the beautiful dawn. He agreed still because he wanted them pictures, it didn’t matter if he had to sneak in someone’s tent. “Your client’s code is 1441, please let it know to the next tour guide so he would include you in the other package.”

He buys an extra bottle of iced tea for everyone as he apologizes once more before he says goodbye and apologizes again to the rest of the group tour. Minho takes beautiful pictures as he walks near the damn bridge he doesn't want to cross but he needs to, he has around two hours to enjoy and to prepare himself.

You have to do it MinHo.

You have to.

"Are you sure you are going to hike that mountain? Like really sure?" He remembers Changbin questioning him and MinHo gasped. That asshat knew about the thin bridge.

Whatever, he is already here.

He is distracted with the beautiful little birds that let him take photos of them when he hears noise about a group coming. His moment to shine has come.

He just needs to look forward and not down because he would probably die. Ok, he 's ready. Really ready. Completely ready.

Oof.

"I'm not ready!" What- He is engulfed in his own thoughts of being terrified of heights, he didn't notice the girl that is making a funny scene about being nervous. MinHo approaches the group taking out his headphones and feels a bit better, he is not the only one having a mental breakdown because of the damn bridge. Everyone hypes her up to cross the bridge and cheers, she ties her hair up and gives a step forward and squeals.

"I'm sorry my friends! But I'll need a diaper."

"Uh, excuse me? Is this the second group of the tour to see the dawn?" He approaches the lady who had the little bright flag and after she nods kindly, he gives her his ticket saying his client code was 1441. "Oh yes! Come with us, please. This group usually goes slower so take your time to cross the bridge as you see, there's another client who is a bit nervous."

"I'm not nervous, I just wanted to take more pictures."He says and the lady nods and smiles, the tour guide seems close to the girl laughing anxiously that tries to cross the bridge because she whispers to her something about being a chicken. The girl, undeniable attractive just keeps laughing, voicing out she hopes to not die today. "Huh? Another person that is afraid to cross? Where?"

Damn. They are talking about him. The smile that was on his face dissipates and turns into a serious frown as he tries to appear concentrated to look at some flower. "Guys keep going, I will cross alone and safe! I promise!" MinHo hears the girl say to the group and hurried steps that come closer to him after that. "Hi? Are you the scaredy cat?"

"What?" He quickly turns around and scoffs, she is the scandalous one and she starts with this, pfft. "Are you talking about yourself? I don't remember being the one who squealed."

"Yeah right. Come on! Don't be shy, let's cross together because I'm scared too."

"I'm not scared!"

"Mr. 1441, please. We can be stubborn after crossing this bridge." You stick out your hand at him and he raises an eyebrow. "Are you going to give me a piggyback ride or what? Because Miss Chicken, I am not interested."

"What- Chicken? You are the chicken! Oh, is this a way to ask for my name? I'm Y/N."

"MinHo. But I wasn't asking."

"Me neither, MinHo." You laugh as he doesn't have an answer and you grab his hand. "Let's do this together, it's okay to scream and insult. I do that a lot so I don't mind."

" Wait, wait!" He says as he is dragged by Y/N, the girl who seems eager to cross but is as much as terrified as him or even more. "Why are you so eager if the lady said we can take it easily? You were screaming a second ago!"

"I know but the adrenaline is awesome and someone who understands the frightening feeling will make you feel secure, I promise two chickens make a good team."

"I'm not a chick-" His words die as he is at the start of the bridge, instinctively he holds your hand tightly. He takes a deep breath and looks at you, you smile at him. MinHo wants to run away but something in your secure hold of hand makes him believe.

"So you don't have friends to come with?"

"I do have friends! How can you come to that conclusion just by one look? You also look like a loner." He bickers and you immediately answer. "I am not a loner! The lady guide is my friend, she said this dawn is going to be probably the most beautiful of the year as the weather is awesome."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! I hope you didn't bring too much stuff because it's hot up there, people don't even bring tents and prefer to talk with everyone and take naps looking at the stars and stuff like that, it's pretty safe too and the tour gives tents if you feel uncomfortable."

"Really?"

"Of course! Is this your first time hiking this mountain?" He nods and as the conversation dies for a moment he remembers he is actually on a freaking bridge that looked too thin to hold him safely so he looks down. He is stepping on plain land.

He crossed the bridge bickering with the woman he is still holding hands with.

Wow.

MinHo bickers a bit more to hold her hand a bit more as she gets distracted easily. Y/N. It is a pretty name.

He smiles.

"So are you going to ask me out or are you ready to let go of my hand?" There is a tiny possibility he would have choked on his idea tea at this statement.

"Wow, that was smooth and pretty direct." He lets go of her hand and she laughs. "I don't date chickens though."

"I don't date chickens either." He scoffed at her attitude, damn. Is there a divinity of summer he can thank for?

After a night of bickering and photos of the incredible dawn, you agreed to give him your number so he would send the pictures he took.

It would be the first of many hiking trips that would turn into summer dates.

You open your eyes finally and your hands search for your phone to see the hour. You slept two hours! Felix said he would call for you to come and eat brownies with MinHo.

"Shouldn't you search for me first?" Your boyfriend sat on the end of the bed eating the last bag of chips making you whine.

"MinHo! Spill my chips!"

"Give me your hand to spill it."

"Ew."

"Tell Felix you are a taken chicken. He is not going to seduce you with brownies, you are more spoiled than anyone could ever think."

"Listen chicken, sweet Australian man is going to invite us both brownies so shut up. Also go tattoo yourself the word taken on your forehead. Girls think my chip robber is single? Tsk." As always, your unexpected statements make him choke, this time on the chips and laughs at your rolling eyes. "Am I spoiled? When? Where?"

MinHo throws himself on you and tickles you until you are kicking him off you, showing him the white blanket as a surrender sign.

"Should we go on a hiking date?" You suddenly ask.

"Why?"

"Why not? Maybe I want to commit murder and take revenge because they were my favorite chips."

"Jirisan?"

"No, the one we met!"

"Huh? Really?" He takes his phone and casually books a tour already for this weekend. "Maybe I should propose to you so you won't kill me."

You both laugh.

But he isn't joking. He also messages the boutique, he would need the ring for this weekend.

REPOSTED.

#skz fic #skz scenario #stray kids scenario #minho scenario #minho fluff #lee know fics #lee know fluff

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professorrw · 3 years

Text

Undeniable Feelings

Pairing: female reader x Sam Wilson

Warnings: swearing, fluff, friends to lovers

A/N: This wasn’t requested but I it was an idea I had written down and I finally had the time to write it. This is the longest one-shot I’ve done so far at over 3,000 words. I hope you all like it and if you did, heart, comment, and reblog! If you want to be added to a taglist feel free to ask!

Next Up: Peter Parker x Reader fluff request

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to see a text from Sam.

“I gotta ask you something. I’ll come by later.”

You reply with a thumbs up emoji and put your phone away.

Huh, what did he want to ask you? You couldn’t imagine he would have time in his schedule to even talk to you now that he was Captain America. He sighed reminiscing on how far you both had come. You started out as some kids in the Air Force and now you were working undercover and Sam was Captain America.

It felt like just yesterday when you and Sam decided to enlist. You were basically kids back then. It was astonishing you managed to stay friends through it all.

You were proud of Sam. He deserves recognition for all his hard work. You had read multiple articles on how people felt about a black Captain America and it was mostly positive, which was relieving.

Your mind returned to the task you were supposed to do. You briskly moved past the pedestrians of New York and went into a small bar, rumored to be running an underground black market.

You got there just on time and waited in the corner as the first suspect rolled in. You approached the bar as the man walked in. He went to the end of the counter and you got as close as you could without being suspicious. The bartender came over and you ordered a beer, which you didn’t intend to drink.

The man next to you spoke to the bartender in a hushed voice, whispering things you could just barely pick up. You recited the words in your head as the suspect left the bar. You lingered for a few more minutes to receive your beer, which you gave to a woman that was a few seats down.

The sidewalk was packed as usual and you were shoved a few times on the way to your apartment. You shoved your key into the lock and opened the door to your average home. It wasn’t big by any means, but it was decent for New York City.

You relayed the information you gathered to your superiors, letting them know that you were done for the day.

You relaxed for a few hours, sitting on the couch and catching up on the shows everyone was watching. It was nearly eight when you got a knock on your door. It had a beat to it, only the type of knock you know Sam would do.

You don’t know why he even bothers knocking when he has a key. He didn’t live there but before he was Captain America and an Avenger he would come over all the time and you got tired of unlocking the door. You craned your neck as he walked in carrying a bag of takeout.

“I know you haven’t had supper yet so I stopped to get some. And it's your favorite, Chinese.” He flashes you a smile and sets the bag down on the coffee table in front of the couch. You don’t even wait for him to sit down before you grab a styrofoam container and plastic utensils.

“Damn you're hungry.” He chuckles and tucks into the couch next to you.

“As always,” you reply.

Eating Chinese on your couch with Sam felt so normal. It was something you hadn’t done in a long time due to your jobs. No matter how far away you were, you stayed friends. Sam wasn’t the type to just lose contact with people, especially not his best friend. You could remember how long and lanky he used to be in high school and looking at him now you could see how much he had filled out.

“Whatcha watchin’?” He made a gesture toward the TV with his fork.

“Random show.” As you popped another piece of chicken in your mouth you remembered the whole reason he was coming over. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh yeah. Well…” he trailed off and gave you a cheeky smile. “There’s this ball I’ve been invited to. They said I could bring a plus one and I was hoping you would come with me.” He cocked his head to the side slightly and raised his eyebrows as if saying, “So how about it?”

You had been to a few ball type parties before for your job but you were never there for your own enjoyment. You would be going as Sam’s date. No, not date, plus one. You would be happy to accompany him.

“When is it?”

“Uh… Friday night.”

“Oh that’s soon, like, in three days.”

“I know it’s short notice. You don’t have to go with me. I can go solo.”

“No, no, I’ll go. I’ll go.”

He gives you a smile, showing the gap between his front teeth. He used to get picked on for it in elementary school but you thought it was cute. Sam in general was cute, more like hot honestly. Gosh, why were you thinking about your best friend that way? It’s normal right? You’ve known each other for so long it’s natural to think of him like that. You’d thought of him that way for a long time actually.

Before you went your separate ways career wise you liked him. You kept on telling yourself you would tell him but you never got the chance. And then you were both so busy with your jobs you didn’t think it would work out. You still to this day regretted never telling him. Him working with the Avengers and now being Captain America made it seem even more impossible.

Sam stayed for a few hours longer, leaving when both of your eyes were droopy. Before he headed out the door he hugged you. A really tight hug at that. You hadn’t seen each other in a while but why did he hug you like that? He usually stuck to a one-armed hug if anything. Maybe it was because you accepted his invitation?

“I’ll pick you up at seven. See ya bug.” He laughed as you tossed a pillow towards him. He wasn’t literally calling you a bug. The nickname came from your childhood fear of all bugs, even butterflies. He always teased you about it, finding rollie pollies and hanging them in your face while you squealed. He thought it was hilarious but young you found it very aggravating.

You went about the days until the ball normally, but when you weren’t focused on work your mind would drift to the ball. You were going to be Sam’s plus one. That meant you would have to dance together right? You felt butterflies in your stomach when you thought about Sam’s hands on your waist as you were pressed together. You felt like a giddy teenager again for the first time in years.

You could remember in high school when Sam would ask his crushes out to dances and you would watch longingly off to the side with some random guy. For so long you were hopelessly in love with him, your best friend.

Friday night eventually rolled around. Thankfully, you didn’t have work that day. By five o’clock you finally started getting ready. You took a shower, did your makeup, did your hair, and picked out your outfit. The dress you chose was one you’d never worn before. It was gorgeous and you never felt like the events you were attending would do it justice. You knew that tonight was the perfect time to wear it.

After you put on accessories you stood in front of your full length mirror. You weren’t one to boast but you looked absolutely stunning. You knew you would knock the socks off of Sam.

A short while later someone knocks on your door. This time you open it. As soon as the door opened you were both staring at each other. Your jaw almost dropped to the floor as you took in the way Sam looked. He looked finer than ever in a well tailored black suit and shoes. If you looked up the definition of sexy Sam’s photo would definitely be there. He wasn’t the only one that was ogling. In his eyes you looked like a goddess, so beautiful you seemed unreal.

“Wow- You- Wow. You look amazing.” He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you slipped an arm into his.

“You’re looking pretty sharp yourself, Wilson.”

You got in Sam’s car and drove to the venue. The venue was magnificent. It was one of the few ballrooms you hadn’t been to before. Reports surrounded the building as you stepped out of the car, arm in arm with Sam. The flashing cameras nearly blinded you. Everyone wanted an exclusive photo of the Captain America.

Reporters thrusted microphones into your faces as you passed and one nearly smacked you in the nose. Sam pulled you closer and quickened his pace so you could get away from all the chaos.

The inside of the building was grand. The walls and ceiling were ornate with engravings and rich colors. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting the room in a dreamlike glow. The main ballroom was full and loud. There were definitely more than 300 people there.

Sam’s arm left your waist and dropped to his side as he took in the whole scene. You were somewhat disappointed that he stopped holding you, but he didn’t know that.

You had barely made it through the doors when a robust man came up to you both. “Welcome! Mr. Wilson, or should I say Cap, I’m glad you could make it!” The man spoke with a Jersey accent and in a very animated way, hands and arms accentuating every word. Just from seeing and hearing him you could tell he was a character.

Sam wasn’t deterred by the big personality and shook his meaty hand, “Thank you Mr. Gafner. It’s an honor to be here.” Unlike Mr. Gafner, Sam spoke with a cool confidence that made him seem even more suave than he looked.

“Ahh! You humble an old man! It’s an honor to have you. Now that the parties here we can get this shindig started. Shall we?”

Mr. Gafner clapped Sam on the back and sent a thumbs up to someone across the room. Not a second later music began to play from a group of people on the side of a stage. The music sounded familiar, classical music with a modern twist almost. It wasn’t your typical gala music, but it was far from rave music.

Mr. Gafner walked away to tend to other guests, leaving you and Sam to fend for yourselves. You didn’t recognize any of the people there. The mayor and a few other higher ranking government officials were the only ones you recognized. You guessed the rest or the attendees were also government officials and local socialites.

It was like being at a party where you only knew one person all over again. It was strange how often you had been feeling like a teen again recently. Maybe it was Sam’s close proximity in your life again. You texted and talked over the phone but it wasn’t the same as being in person and that must have been the reason for all these resurfacing feelings.

You didn’t know where to go or what to do. You never planned what you would actually do when you arrived. All you could think about was being with Sam. Luckily he was still by your side, but you assumed that wouldn’t last long.

Sure enough when other guests noticed him a flock of them came over. You thought you would be swallowed and then spit out on the other side of the room by the crowd but that wasn’t the case. Sam could sense your unease and made sure to keep you close, arm slinking around you once again. You didn’t know it but he was feeling just as lost as you were. It was all a part of his new job as Captain America.

Sam quickly became the center of attention. Even the mayor came to congratulate him. No one acknowledged you, and as the minutes passed you felt more like an accessory than a person. You were used to blending in, so why did this bother you so much?

You were shuffling back and forth on your feet, eager to move yet unable to escape due to the bubble that surrounded you both. You literally let out a breath of relief when Mr. Gafner went on stage and spoke into a microphone.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen! You all look lovely tonight, but I’m sure you already know that.”

A few chuckles came from the crowd, which was now moving to sit at the circular tables on the sides of the dance floor. There were place cards for everyone to find their seats and it seemed like you and Sam were the only ones that didn’t know where yours were located.

As your host continued to talk you finally found your spots, which happened to be near the stage. You both sat down and got comfortable, preparing yourselves to hear a long speech. You tuned back into Mr. Gafner’s just as he was saying, “We have a very special guest tonight, and no it’s not me, someone even more special. We have in attendance tonight, the one, the only, Samuel Wilson.”

Polite applause erupted in the room but quieted when the man resumed speaking. “If you would, Mr. Wilson, grace us with a speech?” Your eyes shot to Sam as he said that. You didn’t know Sam was supposed to make a speech and from Sam’s wide eyes you could tell he didn’t either.

He quickly fixed his face, standing up and making his way to the front. Mr. Gafner handed over the mic, giving Sam the floor.

“Hello. As you know, I am Captain America, but formerly known as the Falcon. Since I took on this role I’ve been really busy. Steve never talked about the press conference side of things, unfortunately.”

There were a few laughs and Sam paused before he continued. As his speech went on you could tell he was getting a little nervous. He started talking faster, which was a tell-tale sign. You weren’t sure why he was nervous, the whole room was fully focused on him, listening intently as he talked. A reporter even managed to slip in with a camera and record.

Sam’s gaze momentarily shifted to the side to look at you and in that moment you smiled at him. Sam’s nerves seemed to melt away, and he was back to his grinning self in a second.

“This is truly an honor and I have so many people to thank for this. I want to wrap this up with a simple and short, thank you. Thank you my fellow people, thank you to everyone on this Earth, and the biggest thank you to my best friend, who was there through it all.”

The room erupted in applause once again, but much louder than before. Everyone in general was clapping loudly but you had no doubt that you were clapping the loudest. You were so goddamn proud of him.

He waved as he walked back to your table, beaming.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what? Become Captain America or give a speech?”

“Low blow! I can give a speech now for your information.”

“You sure as hell couldn’t in elementary. You puked as soon as you got off the damn stage.”

You were both cracking up, paying no attention to the other people at your table.

Inevitably more people flocked to Sam, praising his speech. You were saved once again by the music picking up and people migrated to the dance floor. You sat watching the crowd as they slowly danced.

“You wanna dance bug?” Sam held his hand out, offering it to you.

“Sure, why not?” You did your best to act nonchalant. You couldn’t tell if Sam knew that butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.

You took his hand, letting him guide you to the middle of the room. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. Your arms slid behind his neck and then you started to sway along with the music. You rested your head on his chest and were able to hear his heartbeat. It was faster than normal, but that might have been because he was still pumped from the speech.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be fully in the moment. It was something out of a fairytale. You two in the middle of the dance floor swaying together. It fulfilled all your teenage dreams, but you found yourself wishing for the same things now as an adult. You wanted Sam. There was no doubt about it. The past few days just proved that even further.

The song came to a close and couples started switching partners. You lifted your head to meet Sam’s eyes, which were already looking into yours. You wanted so badly to kiss him, to just lean forward and close that distance between you. After waiting for so long, for so many years, you were going to tell him.

“Sam-” you were cut off by a woman tapping your shoulder.

“May I?” she asked.

Of course that was just your luck. You felt dejected. You were finally about to tell him but you were interrupted. Maybe that was the world’s way of saying that it wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were about to let go of Sam when he spoke up, “Actually we were about to go outside for some fresh air. If you’ll excuse us.” You looked back at the lady as Sam pulled you along with a hand on your back. She looked dumbfounded, shocked that he would reject her.

Sam pulled you through the back doors and into the brisk night air. This area of the building was blocked off and could only be accessed by going through the hall, which meant that no paparazzi could get to you.

You were only able to take one breath before Sam turned to you. “Y/N- I- I love you.”

It was so sudden you thought you heard him wrong. But no, you heard him right. He had a vulnerable look in his eyes, did he expect you not to reciprocate those feelings?

Your heart fluttered and you felt a trickle of relief flood throughout you. “I love you too.”

“You’re not pulling my leg?” His eyebrows were turned upwards in the middle from genuine worry.

“No Sam. I’ve loved you for years.” You were unaware that you were inching closer and closer to him but he wasn’t. You both wanted the same thing and so Sam went for it. He put a hand on your neck, thumb grazing your jaw. He took the last step forward and kissed you. It seemed the whole word lit up, fireworks going off just for you two.

Time stood still, the world was revolving around you and Sam, together at last.

Taglist: @bellamy1998

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luvnami · 3 years

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - happy birthday you sexy beast. inspired by that one chapter in horimiya where sengoku confesses to remi lol

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @sugawaaras @dearkodzuken

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 - fluff/angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - apocalypse au, death

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1445

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - matsukawa issei x reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - the day on which the world is to end just happens to be matsukawa’s birthday

7.01am.

The sun burns through the morning mist, though the numbers in the sky above you do not disappear. 12 hours and 59 minutes left until the end of the world.

Despite this impending catastrophe, the world itself does not seem grieved. You still walk amongst the hundreds of students that head to school, employees board crowded buses as they are ferried to work, and housewives and husbands still vacuum the floor while a variety show plays in the background.

You would think that there would be something special about death, about the end.

Matsukawa Issei catches up to you. “Hey,” he greets, and nudges you in the side with his arm.

“Happy birthday,” you return. “Isn’t it weird to have your birthday before we all die?”

“Don’t think about it so depressingly,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s still a normal day.”

What defines normality? Everyone dies at some point. Shouldn’t it be a momentous occasion, however, that the entirety of humanity will be wiped out tonight? Some will be sleeping, some will be awake, watching the earth consumed by the great cosmos beyond.

You shelf the thoughts for another time. A minute, an hour later.

School goes by as normal. Lessons are conducted, albeit with the nagging feeling of this being the last class that one might teach or attend. You wonder if half the students are even paying attention. Your open notebook is filled with scribbles and doodles.

By the time lunch break rolls around, the pages are torn out and crumpled at the bottom of your bag. Matsukawa and Hanamaki come over to your table with bento boxes in hand.

“Octopus sausages still? What are you, 5?” you tease Hanamaki, who responds with a kick at your shin, leaving you to howl in pain.

“Not like you’re any better,” Matsukawa remarks at your store-bought onigiri and packet milk.

The three of you sit and eat, exchanging jokes and comments on the previous lessons. You’re surprised that Oikawa and Iwaizumi haven’t appeared from their classes just yet. Perhaps they’re still caught up with the brunette’s fangirls — that’s normal.

“Is there any place you want to head to, birthday boy?” Hanamaki asks.

Matsukawa swallows his mouthful of food before replying. “Not particularly.”

“Are you going to go for volleyball training?”

“Yeah, of course. Iwaizumi would kill me if I skipped, even if we can’t play for nationals now,” he laughs.

“I’ll meet you afterwards, then?” you say.

Matsukawa looks at you, his gaze softening. “Yeah.”

The bell rings. You return to class, tossing your empty milk packet and onigiri wrapper into the trash.

It’s evening by the time volleyball training ends. You wait for Matsukawa by the school gate. The weather is still a little chilly, and you shove your hands deeper into the pockets of your jacket.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Matsukawa’s low voice startles you, before he lets out an amused chuckle at your shocked face.

“Didn’t have to scare me like that,” you mutter.

He smiles and takes your hand in his. You let him pull your hand out of your jacket, before pushing your connected ones into his own pocket.

Dinner is fast, slurped ramen combined with antics from their last training session makes you choke on your hot tea a few times. Matsukawa almost pukes his food from laughing too hard. By the time you’re done, your belly is full and your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

The walk home is much quieter.

“Did you say bye to everyone?” you question.

“Yeah. Oikawa was crying like a baby,” Matsukawa says.

“I would’ve guessed that much.”

You reach out for his hand. He lets you take it, enveloping you in his warmth.

7.25pm. Two hours and thirty five minutes until the end of the world.

It’s already 8pm when you rush over to Matsukawa’s house, fresh out of the shower with a bundle of photo albums and games to spend the time. He pulls you into his arms when you step through the door.

He smells fresh, not like the horrible 3-in-1 soap that he uses when he’s rushed. You relax against his soft hoodie, letting him press you to his chest and kiss your forehead tenderly. It’s a minute worth of time that you wouldn’t ever give up.

Matsukawa leads you into his bedroom, where you open up scattered albums to revive forgotten memories. There are photos of you when you were a baby, chubby and waving fists around you. You giggle at a picture of toddler Matsukawa only in a diaper, and he cackles at you, aged five, dressed in the ugliest tutu he’s ever seen. There’s a photo of you both on your first date, awfully awkward, and another of Matsukawa trying to balance a pen on his nose.

Afterwards, you go through a few games of Stress and snack away, guessing what the other third years are doing right now.

Matsukawa lays on your thighs as you play with his hair, his eyes closed. The time is currently 9.50pm. Ten minutes left until the end of the world.

“Hey, Issei?”

He responds with a drawn out hum.

“Happy birthday.” “Why are you wishing me that again? Weirdo,” he jokes.

“You didn’t even get a birthday cake or something this year. No presents, no party, nothing at all. Don’t you feel a little sad about it?”

“It would all be gone the same day if anyone gave me something. That sounds like a waste of money.”

“Weirdo,” you tease back, and he opens his eyes just to roll them.

“Hey, Issei.”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do the day before you die?”

At this, he laughs and you can’t help but crack a smile as well. He stares off into the corner of his room.

“Well… I would celebrate my birthday. I would go to school and volleyball training as usual, and then spend the rest of the night with you.”

“Aw, how romantic.”

“What would you do?”

“I’d eat all the candy in the world.”

Matsukawa glares at you. “And not spend time with me?”

“I’ll share the candy with you.”

“That’d just give us stomach aches. I don’t want to die while shitting my guts out, you know.”

The room falls silent. Matsukawa glances at his clock on the wall, and the second hand ticks by, counting down to the very moment of his death. It’s strange, that he isn’t scared. What happens after death, why he’s never questioned the existence of the numbers in the sky, Matsukawa doesn’t really care.

He laces his fingers with yours. 9.57pm. Three more minutes.

You grip his hand tightly.

“What do you think will happen when it reaches 10pm? Will the earth blow up? Will we all just drop dead?” you whisper.

“I hope we turn into zombies. I’ll stagger over to Hanamaki’s place to freak him out and then eat his brains.”

“Ew, that’s so nasty, Issei. Even if I was a zombie, I wouldn’t eat any brains.”

“Not even mine?”

“Do zombies have brains?”

Matsukawa smiles fondly at you. He sits up and interlocks his arm with yours, before laying his head on your shoulder. The curls of his hair tickles your cheek.

9.58pm.

“What kind of sweets would you eat before you die?” Matsukawa asks.

“Strawberry shortcake. Cheesecake. Tiramisu. Creme Brulee. Macaron.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Well, it would be my last time eating them.”

“Should we have gotten sweets today, then? From that bakery near school, I heard they were having a sale today.”

“Maybe. But it’s too late to regret that now.”

9.59pm.

You close your eyes, tilting your head back so it rests against the wall. Your heart jumps in your chest and you will it to slow down, to fall behind the flow of time. As if it could do that.

Matsukawa readjusts your hands so that your fingers are intertwined. He’s silent, stroking your knuckles with his free hand.

Each second passes like a grain of sand falling through an hourglass’ waist, landing on an uncountable bed of other seconds that have passed. There’s thirty left, now twenty nine, now twenty eight. It’s an undeniable fact that you’ll be unable to turn time back.

“Issei,” you whisper so softly, Matsukawa has to strain to hear you.

You lean down, tilting your chin to press your lips against his. His eyes flutter shut. His lips are chapped, rough against your soft ones as you kiss.

Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen.

You don’t separate.

Eight, seven, six.

Matsukawa pulls away briefly. “I love you,” he breathes.

Four, three, two.

“I love you too.”

Zero.

#matsukawa issei #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei angst #matsukawa issei fluff #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq angst #hqradiostation

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lovelyirony · 3 years

Text

morgan doesn’t have to be a hero. she just has to know the family that was.

(or me ignoring everything about infinity war and endgame)

Thinking about how Tony doesn’t tell Morgan everything about Iron Man. There are books, of course. A couple of children’s authors and illustrators thought it would be nice if the kids could see heroes on something else other than a news source that also talks about casualties and how much they actually lost.

It’s nice for Tony, too.

No one saw the wormhole. No one illustrates him falling out of the sky, body plummeting and seeing what the future would be.

It’s Morgan’s favorite book, seeing the team defeat the “mean aliens.” Her eyes follow each hero. She likes Hulk the best. She likes tracing along the pages, asking “whozat” every two minutes or so.

She finds the old armor in the garage when she’s in her “investigation” phase, and correlates it to the book.

She doesn’t think that Iron Man is that cool. She wants the armor to be pink and green, so dad loses out on “cool points.”

She finds the armor that he’s building for Pepper, because he’s still paranoid and worried and he wants her to be safe.

He survived one house of his falling, and he’s not sure he’ll survive another one.

Morgan asks about the picture at the kitchen, the one where Tony and Peter are posing for Peter’s official internship.

“That’s...that’s your family,” Tony says, because he can just picture how excited Peter would be at having a little Morgan around, crawling everywhere. “His name is Peter.”

He never refers to Peter in the past tense. He doesn’t know if it’s for Morgan’s benefit or his own.

He tells her all about Spider-Man. “Spidey” becomes easier to pronounce, so they go with that.

Sometimes mom finishes those stories while dad goes to get juice pops.

(And look at the photo for a bit too long.)

Morgan asks him where Spidey is, once. More than once. But the first time it was...it was painful.

“Where is he?” Morgan asks.

“He’s...”

Tony doesn’t know what to say. He’s not gone. No, fuck that. Peter isn’t gone. But he’s not here, and Tony doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where anyone is.

“He lives far away, so he would have to take a long time to get here,” Pepper says, smiling. “But now, we are going to travel for the kitchen for lunch! The menu today is carrots and celery with hummus, and some fresh fruit and a sandwich. What do we think?”

“Is the fruit seasonal?” Tony asks, voice thready. “Points off if it’s out.”

“You’re a nerd,” Pepper says. “Yes, it’s in season. Would you mind turning the washer on? I forgot to.”

Tony nods, and Pepper grabs his hand, squeezing.

He was so lucky to have her in his life.

And then the Avengers are reforming. Scott Lang, aka Ant-Man, aka the weirdest superhero name he’s ever heard, has a theory.

About time travel.

He said he didn’t Back to the Future think about it, but he totally Back to the Future thought about it.

The problem is that it works.

That’s not the real problem. No, it’s not a real problem at all. He thinks about everyone returning and it’s happy and good again, and-

He’ll have to leave.

He hasn’t forgotten Strange’s statement.

Only one situation where this doesn’t fail. Where we don’t fail.

And it has to be him.

You don’t come back from something like that.

Usually, anyway.

Tony’s determined that he’s coming back. That everyone is coming back.

The whole plot of Back to the Future goes as such: Marty’s life sucks, his parents’ lives are boring, and they’re not supposed to change the future.

They do anyways.

And it works. That’s the thing. Out of every single “time travel is dangerous” trope, Back to the Future still shows that sometimes some changes don’t affect the future badly, it just changes it.

Tony knows that that can be done. It has to be done, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to leave Morgan. He already pinky-promised her that they’d make a picnic for her fifth birthday, and pinky-promises are the most binding contract he’s ever been a part of so far.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it can’t be done.

He has to go with Steve to get a stone. He doesn’t necessarily like that because neither of them are subtle and they’re going to see his dad.

Which is just gonna be a ball of a time. And Tony looks like Howard, just a few slight changes, but it’s undeniable.

As long as no one connects the dots, he’ll be fine.

They’re both like bulls in china shops. Neither has ever been out of the spotlight, and neither have been trained very well in the art of subterfuge.

“What, SHIELD just decide to set you loose?” Tony hisses as they’re making an escape.

“Oh and you didn’t have any time to learn?” Steve snaps back. “Let’s go.”

Natasha almost doesn’t return. Almost. Tony’s terrified to think of what would have been happened had she still been there.

“Dumbass,” Clint mutters. “Thinking you could jump and we wouldn’t have done shit about it. You’re stupid.”

Natasha just has a graceful smile on.

“You’re not allowed to be the stupid Avenger all the time, Clint.”

“Okay I accidentally blew up a microwave one time and suddenly-”

Tony laughs.

Genuinely laughs.

It’s been a while since they’ve functioned like a team. Been a longer time since they’ve been one.

They get the stones.

Hulk gets everyone back. Bruce gets everyone back.

He’s confusing.

But there he is, Peter.

Tony hugs him, and he tears up, and god he’s so glad that Peter’s back. That everyone is back.

It feels nice.

But they still have a fight to finish and a glove to play hot potato with.

Thanos is still formidable. He’s still skilled, still has an entire army.

Well...they’re not outmatched for long.

Dr. Strange opens portals, leading a whole new mass of people to help. And Tony sees Danvers, which he has yet to talk to Rhodey about. God, Rhodey had been right about her being alive.

But that’s not important.

He’s fighting one-on-one.

Thanos is confident that he’s going to win.

See, that’s the thing about Tony: he may not have been trained in subterfuge, but he knows all about flouting expectations. He knows that everyone had expected so many things of him that when he did anything out of the ordinary, no one paid attention.

This is just like that.

Thanos snaps, only it’s not enough this time.

It’s not going to be like last time, with Peter panicking and people screaming and tragedy lining the news for years.

No this time? It won’t work.

Because this is the time where the hero wins against all odds and there’s a happy ending. He’s going to make it so, no matter how much of a toll this takes. He’s getting back to Morgan and Pepper no matter what it fucking takes.

Thanos is gone. His army dissolved.

And he is satisfied. He’s tired, but happy. And he’s fairly sure that the glove has taken its toll on his body, but he hopes to god that he’ll be okay.

Pepper is running her hands through his hair, telling him it’ll be okay, and asking anyone for help with transportation.

There’s one person important that didn’t get blipped, and luckily, she’s a personal friend: Helen Cho.

Sure, it’s time-intensive.

Yes, Morgan is mad that daddy can’t read her a bedtime story.

But...she gets to meet Peter, torture him with forty questions a minute, and Tony gets the use of his arm back.

So it equals itself out.

The world, for now, doesn’t need a lot of superheroes. Everyone’s still settling down, no one wants anything but normal.

This means a lot of superheroes have no idea what to do.

But Morgan does.

When dad gets back and is up for playing again (which took forever), Morgan asks to see the team.

If dad is Iron Man, then it only makes sense that he knows all the other ones. And she has a lot of questions.

The Avengers are a...a team. God, that’s about the only thing they can call themselves now. They used to be a family but everything’s changed and stilted and awkward.

Morgan knows none of this.

So ergo, she decides the most amazing thing ever for her fifth birthday party is to have a picnic with the whole team. Writes them invitations and everything, makes her mom trace out the words she wants to write so that it looks “extra fancy.”

Tony’s never been one to deny Morgan something she really wants.

“You sure you wanna handle this? You and Steve aren’t exactly on the best of terms, and I don’t think the team has actually talked.”

“Well, no time like a five year old’s birthday party to get to catching up.”

It’s...something.

Morgan is blissfully unaware and everyone makes so that she stays unaware.

This involves some...awkward conversations.

But mostly just making peace with the fact that life happened.

And Natasha finally has another niece, even if she’s not named after her.

“You still should’ve,” she jokes.

“We were thinking about it, honest,” Pepper remarks dryly. “But hey, thanks for coming. Morgan’s very excited to learn how to ‘be a spy’ in her words.”

Natasha grins.

“I’ll have her taking out government officials in no time.”

“Or just teaching her how to disarm dangerous people, thank you very much,” Tony says hurriedly.

“Didn’t peg you to be the helicopter parent, Stark,” Clint says.

“Oh trust me, he barely left the house when she was born,” Pepper says with a laugh. “And he would check everything. I had to convince him that Morgan did actually need to sleep in her crib.”

“She would’ve been fine by us!” Tony defends weakly. “And besides, you said you did want an office space!”

“Working in the sunroom is fine enough,” Pepper says. “And you forget that you offered to build me one, which is an offer you still haven’t done.”

“I saved the world, you know.”

“Oh, did you?”

Tony grins, popping a grape into his mouth as he sees the scene unfold.

Morgan’s having great fun showing everyone her little hideout, and where she goes on walks.

She’s made friends with Peter and introducing him to her stuffed animals.

Yeah.

Life is good.

#fix-it but not fix-it bc i'm just saying it's canon #endgame noncompliance #hehe :)#lovelyirony writes #morgan stark #tony stark #pepper potts #peter parker #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #steve and tony are like. u know when u have beef with someone but like. not the most important beef #but like enough so that you can't talk #so. you know.#also tony IS the helicopter parent #also i've never seen back to the future that whole line was just bc i looked it up on wikipedia

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decodingellipses · 3 years

Text

Modern Love: He Made Affection Feel Simple

[courtesy of Brian Rea]

"Dating as a transgender woman, in my experience, meant low expectations and casual sex. Then I met Jack."

This piece is part of the Modern Love column at The New York Times

by Denny

My bio on Grindr read: “Be trans friendly. Send face to chat.”

It was difficult to be on a gay hookup app as a trans woman. Most men in my feed desired to only sleep with each other. But I knew there were straight men on Grindr who hungered for a woman like me. I wanted them too.

That’s where I met Jack. At 22, he was a few months older than me, and, other than his age, his entire profile was blank, usually an indicator of a cisgender straight man who was guarded about his attraction to trans women. Typically, the messages I received would start with a vulgar sext, sometimes an unwanted nude photo.

Living in Morningside Heights, I was attending Fordham University for my master’s degree in strategic communication. One night I was up late working when I received a Grindr message from him, a selfie. Amid his light brown hair, two-day scruff and meek gaze, his lacrosse T-shirt stood out to me the most. He looked like a sporty boy I would have crushed on in high school.

He followed up his photo with “Hello.”

Messages in my Grindr inbox tended to cut to the chase: “Down for now?” “Car sesh?” Men who contacted me because they fantasized about trans women made it difficult for me to feel seen as a person in general, let alone a person worthy of respect.

Although my interest was piqued by Jack’s picture, it was his gentleness that drew me in.

Our sporadic small talk was harmless, spanning two months. I brushed him off, but as I commuted to school and spent hours in the library, he was persistent.

“My sex drive is pretty low these days,” I wrote. “Give me a bit and I’ll hit you up.”

“OK.”

When I turned back to my studies, he added, “Just so you know, we can do non-sex things and hang out too. It would be fun.”

This became our pattern: he being distant enough to show interest without pressure, and me appreciating his laxity, given my demanding schoolwork. His ease led me to trust him, so we set up a day to meet.

The first afternoon Jack came over, he admired my bathtub and drank his cup of water with two hands. His poised demeanor in a beige wool peacoat and long scarf reminded me, in a good way, of John Bender in “The Breakfast Club.” In my bedroom, he fixated on my yellow Power Ranger figurines, noticing my framed academic award next to them on the windowsill.

“You went to SUNY Oneonta?” he said. “I went to SUNY Potsdam.”

I pictured my friends who also attended Potsdam eating in the same cafeteria as Jack, getting drunk at the same frat party. Suddenly, the person I’d seen as a stranger now fit into my world.

I imagined what the deer looked like from his dorm room window, roaming the grass at dawn. Or how he spent his day when the school canceled classes because of snow. Or where he would have gone if his parents were able to afford private school.

We sat on my bed, my back leaning against the wall. He slouched his head onto my hip and wrapped his arms around my waist. “This is weird,” I thought. Aside from sexual intimacy, my hookups were typically aromantic, absent of cuddling and expressions of affection.

I kissed him and rolled on top. I took off my shirt and he hugged me tight. His face dug into my chest as he said, “I like you. I think you’re really cool.”

Unsure how I actually felt, I said, “Oh. I think you’re really cool, too.”

The next time I saw Jack, he spent the night at my place. It was then, awake in bed at 4 a.m., that I realized I had never let a guy sleep over before. His heat warmed the bed, so I crept to the bathroom to cool off. I Snapchatted a disoriented selfie to my friends, my hair messy and eyes bloodshot.

“How do you guys do this sleepover thing?” I wrote. “I can’t sleep at all.”

Customarily, my flings with strange men were brief. The men did not take note of my bathtub or my educational history before sex, and they did not linger after.

I came back into bed, disturbed by the rumble of his snoring, but his sleeping face on my pillow struck me. For the first time, the thought of sharing a bed with a man did not come from pure imagination. I now had a real image for this fantasy; I could pretend Jack was my boyfriend, reach for his face and whisper “I love you, good night,” then fall asleep and meet him somewhere in his dream as if we had done this a hundred times before.

The next day, he flew off to see his family for the holidays and the first weeks of the new year.

“merry crimmus,” I texted.

“u too, babygirl,” he replied.

After our sleepover, I didn’t hear from him unless I initiated — an unexpected change. Instead of giving in to my insecurity that the sleepover meant little to him, and therefore I meant little, I imagined other scenarios: him asking me to sleep at his place, for a change, or spontaneously calling me while I’m in line for my morning coffee. But because I had presumed a sex-only expectation from the start, I shamed myself for developing feelings.

“miss u,” he texted one random morning.

“really?”

We stayed in touch and occasionally saw each other, weeks in between. On a hot morning, he snored behind me as I sat on the floor beside my bed, working on my final thesis. He put his hand up to my face, letting me know he was awake. With my eyes on the laptop screen, I took his hand and planted kisses in his palm, wallowing in these ordinary joys — the kind of affection I slowly grew comfortable displaying.

Longing to be more than casual with him, I sought a therapist to guide me through my growing feelings.

Jack’s periodic “miss u” texts progressed with heart emojis, an unprecedented closeness. And I returned the sentiment. It felt thrilling to express my adoration so directly, until the weeks between seeing each other and texting ultimately turned into months of silence I knew to be ghosting.

I relied on Grindr as my safe dock because dating as trans is complicated. Sleeping around was easier for me. I had set the bar low, then met Jack, who saw me as more than a fantasized body, only to have his mysterious exit echo a looming insecurity I avoided for years: Being trans implies I am not real enough to deserve decency.

I broke down in therapy, mustering the courage to say out loud what was undeniably true: “He left me.”

“I don’t mean to put this on you,” my therapist said, “but could him being a cis straight man and you being a trans woman play a part?”

I didn’t want to blame Jack, who showed me a new realm of affection that made desire feel as simple as just a boy and a girl who liked each other. But he made leaving simple, too; all of this could still not be enough.

Deep down, I denied how my mere existence as a trans woman could ever cost him. Jack, in wooing me, nurtured the possibility that my romantic fantasies could come true, that I could be seen as a complex person rather than a fetishized token of someone’s imagination. After being deserted by him, I ruminated on my insecurity that being trans denied me of even a simple goodbye.

And yet I know myself to be real because my transition, as a teenager, required exceptional certainty. Doctors and psychiatrists double-checked my decision constantly.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I repeated, and I became more real each year. With Jack, I felt even realer. Not only had he seen me as a woman, but as a woman worthy of being held.

I could blame my being trans for Jack’s ghosting, but maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe he hated his job. Maybe his family fell apart. Maybe the pleasure we felt together contrasted whatever pain remained of our baggage.

On lonely days, I imagine myself at SUNY Potsdam. At a frat party, I drunkenly dance across from Jack, cheap blue lights grazing the curves of our cheekbones, sweat dripping like cyan fireflies. Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” roars through the party. “Good times never seemed so good,” everyone shouts. “I’ve been inclined to believe they never would.”

I put myself in the cafeteria, where Jack and I approach the salad bar at the same time. When he sees me, he steps back and says, “You go first,” with a grin so big I would need both hands to hold it.

———

Denny is a writer, actor and musician living in New York City.

#modern love #ML #NYTimes #New York Times #The New York Times #Amazon Prime #dev patel #anne hathaway #tina fey #NYT #trans #trans dating #trans love #lgbtq #pride #grindr

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soukokuwu · 4 years

Text

↳ genre: angst

↳ characters: dad!chuuya, wife!reader, you guys have a child

↳ synopsis: a small look at how he handles himself in the aftermath of the catastrophe.

↳ warnings: implied death

↳ word count: 1,689

↳ requested by anonymous || Do whatever you want have s/o killed by one of Chuuya's enemies or die in childbirth idc which one you choose or how you do it JuSt maKe iT hURt

Chuuya sits in the living room, in the dim opalescence of the moon, picture perfect memories scattered on the coffee table before him. He takes a sip of shiraz as he carefully appraises the photo in his hand, thumb delicately grazing over the smile set on your face.

You were so beautiful.

No, not like those typically featured starving adolescents on countless magazines, covered in so many products they barely appear human. Not in that way. You were much more.

Your kind of beautiful was a smile so freely given, a sign of how tender your soul was. It was that spark in your eye — the one that showed him you were always up for an adventure. They held such an intelligence and serenity that he couldn’t help but be prisoner to them. Your kind of beautiful was a mind singularly practical and sagacious.

Your kind of beautiful... was who you were.

And the most precious beauty you graced him with in this life, he thinks, would be the faint memory of your voice muttering out an “I love you”, a phrase that rolled off your tongue so smoothly like birdsong, forever echoing in his heart.

He spends every night like this, as he has for the past twelve years. A nightly routine, brought about by a nameless sadness which is always born of moonlight. And each time, the colours of the day will fade into the black, and it gets dark with unutterable sorrows.

Your death haunts the recesses of his memory. What was supposed to be the happiest day of your lives turned into his worst nightmare. Chuuya can’t remember how many times the scene plays back in his head; the doctor apologising and the sounds all turning into muffled feedback right after, the blood staining your hospital gown, the sounds of his screams muffled by the blanket covering your hollow shell and the gentle touch of Kouyou trying to pry him away from you. It didn’t matter how much he held on to you anyway, Chuuya had already lost you to death’s grip.

The incomparable happiness he felt just a few hours before had given way to immeasurable grief. And he was conflicted, so conflicted, because in another room, she was crying too. So he did what a father was supposed to do — he straightened up, cradled his little baby in his arms and hushed, telling her everything was going to be alright.

One of the first few sentences he had ever said to his newborn baby, and it had to be a lie. Because how was he supposed to know if everything was really going to be okay? For the first time since he’s met you, Chuuya had felt utterly lost, despondent. Every day since that moment, he has felt his mind being beaten into the ground because of the catastrophe.

Not to say there aren’t happy moments — how could there not be? He lost you, but he also gained an amazing daughter who, he realised after some time, was quite like you.

The first few years had been extremely hard on him. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know if he was doing it correctly, he didn’t know what else he should do. He had thought the two of you would figure it out together, learn how to be parents together. Turned out to be just another unattainable dream. But Chuuya considers himself lucky. Even until now, the mafia takes care of her as they do him, because she is, by extension, a part of him. She keeps him sane, grounded, particularly during her waking hours. She is not only his miracle but also someone who never fails to distract and beguile his soul. When he spends time with her he can’t help but be completely absorbed in it, in her.

There’s so much that reminds him of you. Why wouldn’t there be? She is your daughter too. Although, she has his eyes (he silently wishes she got yours, so that maybe, somehow, he might see a glimpse of you from time to time). But there are other, more significant, things that reminds him of you. Her smile; the way it slowly and sometimes unwillingly (when she’s feigning being mad at him) shapes into a grin, before the silence gives way to a laugh of jovial significance. It’s not just in its melody — it’s in the way her face changes into a vision of unrestrained mirth. Just like you. Even her, as a person, reminds him of you; the way she manages to touch someone’s life just with mere words (he’s very surprised at this, considering how she’s still just a kid), and the way she protects those she loves with utmost enthusiasm. Even the way she manages to make Chuuya, the hot-headed brute with short temperament, have a patience worthy of admiration, is remarkable in itself.

It’s only in the night that he allows himself to feel about you; to let it out. It’s only when his daughter is asleep that he allows himself to crumble under the pressure of trying to hold it together for them both. Never once does he allow himself to falter in the face of his daughter. Chuuya feels the undeniable need to be her pillar of support, an iron wall that would never break. He can’t let her see him like this, ever, lest she worries. And she would, because she is exactly like you. If he can’t protect you, the least he can do is to safeguard what you left behind — the family.

“I miss you,” he utters into the night, well aware that no one is there to hear him, to respond to him. His eyes are glued to your face.

“I miss you so much.”

But someone does hear it. She has heard it ever since that night two years ago when she woke up due to a little nightmare about fictional monsters. But she met an even greater one that night. The one that haunts her father until the dawn breaks each day. She hears him sobbing every night through the little crack in her door, the door that faces the living room, allowing her a small peek at her father’s shoulders trembling, his crimson locks — now mixed in with several white hairs — a disheveled mess against his body. She knows he goes through this every night — mind in a daze and wandering in a mist of memories.

It’s when she realises that her father is just like her — not a villain, not a hero, just human.

Have you ever felt responsible for something that wasn’t your fault? For something that you had absolutely no control over?

Because that’s how she feels. She feels responsible for her mother’s death. She feels that it’s her fault her father is miserable. She feels if she wasn’t born that none of this would have happened. And she only blames herself… because she knows it’s true. Without pregnancy, you wouldn’t have died. Without a baby, you’d still be here.

And every moment there’s a chorus of conflicting thoughts playing in her mind: “I’m the reason mommy’s gone”, “I wish I could meet you, mommy, daddy loves you a lot”, “I should’ve been the one, not you”. There are more, but she’s lost track of them as the years passed.

Her misty eyes train on the back of her father’s head. Should she finally talk to him about it?

“Daddy?”

Cerulean eyes shoot to the clock on the wall. 1.12am. He wonders why she’s even awake but he pulls it together. This is no time to be panicking. He clears his throat, subtly wiping the tears away from his cheek.

Keep up the act.

“Yes, my little princess?”

She skips toward him in spite of the somber mood. Anything that can make her father smile, no matter how small, she will do it. But the real tension comes when she opens her mouth seeking the truth.

“Is it my fault mommy is… dead?”

Many a times Chuuya had wondered what was the right thing, the best thing, to say in a situation like this. But somehow, in this moment, now that she’s actually asked him the very thing he wished he would never have to address, he knows exactly what to say to put her at ease.

“Honey,” he calls as he carries her up to sit on his lap. “It could never be.”

He lifts an index finger to boop her on the nose, just to watch as she adorably scrunches up her face in response.

There it is — the same reaction as you.

“Wherever mommy is, she’s glad you were born. And you weren’t there but, the moment she laid eyes on you that day you were born? I promise you, I’ve never seen her happier than she was.” He plants a kiss on her temple. “She loves you, little lady, and so do I. So don’t worry your pretty mind with this, okay?”

The relief they both feel — it’s unbelievable. A huge burden off their shoulders. And he carries her into bed, tucking her in as he usually does, but this time he stays beside her, lulling her to sleep, just as he did you — tenderly, softly, like she’s the most precious thing in the world. And your daughter? She feels safe, warm, tranquil.

...

Or so she would have.

But she’s still a child.

The doubt of the practicality of the ideal situation etches itself in her mind, securing a permanent spot in the back of her head. Fear takes over, and she snaps out of her daydreams, closing the room door instead of going to talk to her father — coming back to the nightmare where her father cries himself to sleep at night, all alone on the couch, then to sleep in a cold bed; coming back to the nightmare where her father lives with the monster.

The monster called pain.

And unfortunately, that’s a monster they both share. And will share, for as long as they live.

@yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

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fallenhuntersx · 3 years

Text

Emerald City.

It was just a normal Saturday night when everyone was up to their usual things. Watching TV, cooking family dinner and pining over certain Avengers.

The compound was usually quiet even though there was lots of things going on in the background, like you were still and everyone else was in slow motion.

You could see just out the corner of your eye Steve in deep conversation with Sam, probably talking about how he beat his lap time again on their morning run, Sam has been warned on plenty of occasions but does he listen? He's still determined to maybe one day he'll win one race.

” y/n.....? ” her voice softly echoing in the background. Like a muffled scream of someone trying to be heard. You were to focused on your partner to even notice Nat behind you. The truth is you weren't really listening in the first place. Nat has been one of your closest friends for the last decade, some may say she's more like a sister, she'd kick your ass, but she'd kill for you. Your love for her was undeniable, she was just a breath of fresh air.

” stop crushing, you're showing your pining over the captain face again ” she joked, lighting nudgeing you in your side.

” i’m not, that's just my normal face, I mean have you seen all of you, I mean damn ” you replied letting out, a moan, more of a sigh.

” it's been like... What 5 years, get over it and go get him, we all know he likes you but....... You should speak to a certain someone first ”

And who is that said person you may all be wondering?

Well you nick name him the hammer or some may call him lighting bolt, and Tony did call him point break but you also call him your best friend, that you were uncontrollably in love with but be had Jane and then he didn't and when he realised he loved you back it was too late because you were in love with Steve but we've gone full circle again because Steve doesn't know and you're sure that Bucky likes you.

Another thing Steve is/has been hung up on someone else but he doesn't say anything about this mystery women all anyone knows is he keeps a photo of this beautiful lady on him all the time. You've always wondered what it would like to make him notice you and you knew exactly how and when to try this idea of yours. Tony was having one of lavish parties Saturday night and you might just ask a certain someone to accompany you to this said party. Quill was in town for a few days and him and Glamora were kind of off again so you thought you’d asked him and of course he said yes, it's freaking starlord of course he’ll say yes, you formed a relationship over the past few years and let's just say, a lady never kisses and tells.

You wanted to get all dressed up with the sexiest dress of course, so I few hundreds of dollars later and a trip to the indoor salon you were ready to go.

“ you are one hot lady “ Nat said with a flirty wink. You blused, looking yourself up and down in the mirror in front of you. You had opted out for a crushed velvet emerald green off the shoulder dress, hugging your curses just right. Not too heavy on the eye make up but you though you'd wear a matte red lip colour, you're hair was clipped up elegantly to the side, loose curls just sitting nicely on you shoulder.

“ damn girl, can we just forget this party and i’ll take you out right now “

You heard his voice, you could picture his cheeky grin.

“ now that would take the fun out of all the trouble we’re going to cause tonight “ you walked up to Peter and he politley held his hand out. A lady man he may be but a perfect gentleman to you.

The elevators opened, just before you both stepped out Quill whispered “ lets get them talking, yeah?, that man is a fool if he doesn't see you right in front of him “. You lightly placed a kiss on his cheek as a thank you.

As you walked through to the bar, you seen some of the others crowed round, Bruce talking to Clint, Nat, Wander and Pepper all together, Thor laughing with Rocket, Mantis, and a very confused looking Drax.

Then you seen him, talking to Tony alongside Sam and Bucky, your cheeks flushed a little like a teenager, suddenly you turned into this shy girl with no confidence. To a surprised he didn't notice you until you turned your back to him, what you didn't see is Sam nudging him to make him look up to you.

“ Care to dance beautiful “ Quill asked, you honestly smile all of the time when he's around, you always will.

“ it would be me pleasure Starlord “ you curtsied jokingly as he wrapped his hands around your waist pulling you into the middle of the dance floor.

A few hours passed while you were with Quill and the others, by the time you stopped dancing most of the guests had left, agents having to get up early in the morning for training. You wandered over to where Thor and Rocket were, sitting down next to them.

“ right guy’s I think we're gonna take off, this idiot wants to go see Valkyrie “ Rocket said pointing to Thor.

“ please say you're coming back to the next party, don't think I would of survived if you guys weren't here. “ you sighed out whilst kneeling down to give Rocket a light hug.

“ HEY Y/N, let me steal you for 5 before these idiots take me away “ Peter shouted over the music making some of the others look your way, especially Steve.

You both walked onto the balcony that had a beautiful view of New York, through day time was amazing but the nightlife was just something different. You stepped closer to the railing, taking in the view in front of you.

“ views beautiful isn't it “ you mummbled.

“ it sure is “ Quill replied, moving closer to you, turning to look at him, you smiled.

He took his chance before you said anything else, pulling you closer to him, placing a soft kiss on your lips, the strange thing is you fell into the kiss until you pulled away realising why you're here.

“ Peter.... We can't “ you placed a hand onto his chest, stepping away.

“ c’mon y/n, you know we are good together, I know you remember the late nights we used to have, drinking beer, eating pizza and late night dancing sessions “ pulling you in closer by your hips.

You stopped, and took in the view on the city, taken a deep breath and shook your head slightly.

“ I'm sorry Peter, you know I love you to the moon and back, but my heart is with someone else “

Pressing a soft kiss on his lips, You stepped back, one more look to Quill, you patted yourself down, ready for someone you had finally had the courage to get.

Walking back through the balcony doors, you had your sights on him, passing by your other friends, winking at Nat and Wanda on the way, They smiled back, loving this new confidence. Mouthing “ Thank you “ towards them. You took in one deep breath as butterflies were dancing in your stomach. You had fallen deeply in love with Steve along time ago and it was only now you realised if you didn’t do something about it now, the opportunity was going a miss.

He was talking to Sam and Bucky, as you walked a little closer to them Bucky looked up and he knew what was about to happen, he always knew you had a thing for his best friend, he give you a nod and stepped back little. “ y/n “ slowly leaving you with Steve.

“ Stttt.. Steve, hey, I’m going to do something right now because if I don’t, I’m going to regret it “ You looked to him with a blush on your cheeks. Plucking up the nerve, you cut him off with a kiss on the lips before he could react to anything you had just said, and just like that he fell into this kiss, starting off a little nervous before passionately kissing you more.

Breaking away from the kiss that felt like hours, you stepped back little and just blurted it out. “ I know this isn't your thing, but I don't care because I love you, i’m in love with you, I think I always have, from the moment we completed our first mission together, to the late nights watching old movies, to the quirky sayings and your own ways . I’m whole heartily in love with you Rogers “

“ Finally come up with the nerve to tell this old man how you feel, because y/n, I’ve felt like this for a while. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love you back “ He give a smile that made you blush just at the words came out of his mouth, before even thinking about replying, his pressed his lips against yours and right then you knew exactly where you wanted to be and who you wanted it to be with.

“ GET IT CAP..... “ you heard Sam in the distant, you smiled into the kiss as your family watched on.

#marvel imagine #Steve Rogers #steve rodgers imagine #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #peter quill #peter quill x reader #marvel x reader #steve rogers x reader #Chris Evans #avengers x reader

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flatsuke · 4 years

Text

let me drown in you

Summary: A joke gift from Ota and Baba makes MC discover things about herself that she'd scarcely considered before. To her surprise, she also discovers things about her stoic fiancé.

or, Eisuke Gets Pegged, the fic.

Genre: Romance, SMUT

Pairing: Eisuke/MC

Word Count: 4275

a/n: I finally did it. this is filthy, filthy self-indulgence lmao. After months of not writing, I’ve returned with this filth and I sincerely hope you enjoy it lmao

Disclaimer: Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable with pegging.

AO3 Link

She was going to kill Ota and Baba.

Staring at MC was the stupid boxed package marked “FRAGILE” in big red letters. She’d thought it was the tea set her mother promised to send back from Japan, but upon opening the box, she was dead wrong.

Inside the box was a distinctly phallic object she surmised was a dildo, and from the looks of it, a high-quality silicone one, too. To her horror, the package also came with a leather harness and a terrifyingly extensive assortment of bottles she was sure was lube.

She’d castrate Ota and Baba for sure.

In the recesses of her mind, she remembered snippets of a conversation earlier that week that involved Ota, Baba, and a not-so-modest amount of alcohol.

“What, so you really think Eisuke would be okay with anything you ask?” Ota said. “Like, anything-anything?”

“M’yeah,” she replied, as if speaking a universal truth despite her inebriation.

“Really now?” Baba’s eyes were twinkling, but she didn’t notice the mischief brewing in them. “He liked the blindfold from our little bet, didn’t he?”

“Mm-hm. Maybe—hic—more than that, too.”

She foolishly thought they’d ignore her drunken babbling like they always did, but of course, they wouldn’t let anything remotely embarrassing slide, especially if it involved Eisuke. God knows those two would always find some way to prod at her and Eisuke’s sex life. The silicone cock in front of her was proof of that.

Shit. She had to get rid of the package before Eisuke got back. It wasn’t as if he’d welcome the sight anyway. The mere implication of Eisuke giving up his control was unheard of.

Liar, a smaller, more impish part of her said. Remember the blindfold.

The blindfold. She’d never forget that night for as long as she lived. The sight of the all-powerful Eisuke Ichinomiya squirming under her—blindfolded—and begging her to let him cum. She rode him till dawn that night, and the sound of her name spilling from his lips like a mantra would always send a hot stab of lust down her spine and god, the idea of being the one inside him—

“I’m home.” His bored voice and the automated beep of their suite door interrupted her thoughts.

Oh, no, no, no. The package was still in on top of the coffee table, and it was only a matter of seconds until he turned around and looked inside the damn thing.

“Welcome home, Eisuke,” she said, lifting the box as casually as she could manage. “I was just on my way to throw this out.”

“And what’s that?” He gestured to the box.

“It’s…well…nothing important.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. Years as a trained businessman meant lying to him was futile, and as transparent as she was, he’d see through her immediately.

“You’re being awfully suspicious,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “What, are those photos of your ex?”

“No! Just—it’s nothing, just let me throw this out, okay?”

Apparently, he wasn’t having it, and her shorter frame was no match for his deft hands swiping the box away from her.

Oh, god, she thought. This is where it all ends.

He stared at the contents with the same unreadable expression he had whenever he gauged his opponents. Her embarrassment morphed into dread when his blank reaction didn’t change the more he looked into the box.

Teasing her would’ve been better than whatever this silent assessment was.

“…Explain.”

God, just bury me alive right now.

“I—I swear, it’s not what you think. Ota and Baba thought it’d be funny to send this over as a joke, and I don’t really see any use for it so—”

“So you don’t want to use it?”

She was expecting him to have her toss out the box because as far as she knew, he’d go on a tirade about “not needing anything but himself” to get her off. In the years they were dating (and now engaged), he’d never once brought up the use of sex toys in the bedroom.

All she could do now was gape at him.

“…What?”

“I’m asking if you want to use it or not.” His eyes were fixed on her with that uncomfortably probing gaze he had whenever he wanted her to be completely honest with him—not that it took much effort on his part, anyway. Damn her honesty.

“…It’s not that I don’t want to use it—it’s just, you know…”

Oh, maybe he’d be disgusted if he knew she wanted to fuck him in earnest. He’d probably cringe at the thought of having someone else inside him, making a mess out of him. There’s no way he’d think of her the same way if he knew she wanted to have her way with him, from the plush softness of his lips, to the curve of his—

“…I don’t know if you’re okay with the idea of—” she said, taking a deep breath, “—me wanting to use it…on you.”

This was it. She’d just let it out in the open, and now he’d be grossed out by the fantasies she’d kept buried in all this time, and he’d be so revolted by her that he’d never want to lay with her again and—

“Ah, god, just forget I said that…” she groaned as she covered her face, not willing to look at him. “Please pretend this never happened.”

“MC.” He didn’t sound angry at her admission. If anything, his tone sounded far gentler than she was expecting. Nonetheless, she didn’t want to take the risk and see the inevitable disappointment on his face.

“Listen, I’d take it all back if I could, so—”

“MC.” His voice was firm as he said her name. She felt him pull her hands away from her face. “Look at me.”

There wasn’t anything on his face that indicated his disgust. Rather, his expression seemed softer than it usually was. His gaze was still intense, but instead of his usual searching glare, his stare was thoughtful.

“Do you really have that little faith in me?”

Did she?

She loved Eisuke with all her being, and she’d do anything to make sure they were both happy—that was an undeniable fact. They’d been through so much together the past few years that she knew nothing could ever break their relationship. Hell, she was kidnapped, drowned, drugged, poisoned, nearly murdered, and none of that did anything to deter her feelings for him.

But sometimes, she still felt like the same scared person she was when she first met him. Always afraid of what other people thought of her, of what he thought of her.

“I assumed you’d, um, hate the idea, so I never really brought it up…”

Even as she fiddled with the two engagement rings on her finger, she was still afraid. He didn’t miss the subtle action as his eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m not someone who gets rattled easily. I already told you before that you never have to hold back with me.”

“I thought most men didn’t like getting…you know.”

“You should know by now that I’m not ‘most men,’” he said while smirking at her. “When I said I was up for anything you wanted, I meant it. Besides, I clearly remember you enjoying the night you blindfolded me.”

Of course she did. Seeing him so debauched at her hands sent her on a high she didn’t know she was capable of having.

“…Anyway, I’m just glad you’re not upset or anything.”

“Why would I be? It just means you want me so badly that you’d want to fuck me instead. I’d never be mad about that.”

She flushed at his casual vulgarity. His bluntness always caught her off guard, and she didn’t know how he could keep a straight face at the idea of her pegging him to high heaven.

“Eisuke!”

“Good to know your reactions don’t lie.” He let out a slight laugh before continuing. “Just let me know when you’re up for it.”

She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for how he’d always blindside her with his frankness. Still, seeing him so amenable to her wants made her insides shudder with anticipation. Her earlier inhibitions were unfounded; he wouldn’t shy away from her anytime soon, and for that, she was grateful.

“Of course, Eisuke.”

It took a few days of mental preparation to get to this point, but she felt like she was finally ready.

They immediately headed for the bedroom once they’d finished their dinner and bath, and with the fervor Eisuke currently kissed her with, she was surprised at the enthusiasm he had.

Not that he was ever apathetic about sex—he initiated about ninety-five percent of the time—but seeing him so eager to let he do what she wanted made tonight feel different.

“Time to take these off, don’t you think?” He said, gesturing to the clothes they still wore. She held back a whine when he pulled back to strip himself.

Eisuke slowly unbuttoned his pajama shirt, and she stared at the show he willingly gave her.

He was always unfairly beautiful. In the dim light of their room, he looked almost ethereal, like he was only human and not some otherworldly being just because the universe missed a beat. No matter how well-tailored his suits were, they always hid how toned his physique really was—right now, only she could see the way the dip of his collarbones led to his firm chest, or the way the ridges of his muscles formed around his stomach.

At times, she’d stop to ask herself if it was okay for her to have all this to herself.

You’re still not good enough for him, a part of her said.

But he’s yours and yours alone, said another part of her.

“I can’t be the only one naked here.” His voice shook her out of her thoughts.

She took the time to strip as well, gingerly pulling her chemise over her shoulders. Even in the dim lighting, she could still feel his heated gaze on her.

Once she was fully nude, he didn’t waste any time pulling her close to him. They grappled as they kissed, nearly wrestling as their desperation threatened to overcome everything else. Like a dance they’d done so many times before, Eisuke let her push him down the bed, letting her take the lead.

She’d straddled him before, but knowing what was coming next sent a shot of lust straight to her core.

“Do what you want to me,” he all but growled at her.

In response, she stroked his cock in with the pace she knew he liked. He was already hard when she gripped him, and she could feel the precum drip from the head. Of course, he was never one to receive without giving, so he reached for her breasts, playing with her nipples until they pebbled from his ministrations.

She supposed that summed up their relationship in a nutshell. They both hated the idea of receiving anything without giving something in return. In turn, they’d do anything to make sure they reciprocated each other as much as possible.

Perhaps they were more similar than she thought.

He bucked into her hand when she pumped him from the base up, and just as he shuddered the same shudder that indicated his undoing, he stopped her.

“That’s—that’s enough of that,” he said, still panting from her handjob. “Time for the main event.”

“Of course.”

She pulled back and got the harness from the nightstand and fastened it around her thighs and ass. The dildo was next, and she fastened it to the harness with the metal clasps. Not once did Eisuke break eye contact with her, and she could’ve sworn she heard his breath hitch the moment she finished putting the dildo on.

She grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand before she climbed back into bed to kneel between his legs.

“I’ll start with my fingers. Just…you know…tell me if you want me to stop.”

He stared at her, as if challenging her to stop. Cocky as always.

“You seem like you know a lot about all this,” he said. The unspoken ‘have you done this with anyone else before’ was laced in there.

“I may have…read about it a lot in my free time.” Her cheeks burned at the plain admission that she’d been thinking about this for so goddamn long. “I just want you to feel good, Eisuke. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She’d never forgive herself if she hurt him in pursuit of her own pleasure.

“You could never hurt me,” he said, completely serious. “But alright, I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

She bent down to give his cock a kiss before applying the lube on her fingers. He tensed when her kisses traveled down to his pelvic area. That only reminded her of the anxiousness bubbling in her the past few days.

“I’m about to put my finger in,” she said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Was he nervous? Embarrassed? It was always hard to tell with her stoic fiancé. The man was an incomprehensible enigma when he wanted to be. Then again, she’d never known him to be the hesitant type.

Only one way to go but forward, then.

With one hand slowly pumping his cock, she pressed an oiled finger to his hole, which made him jerk involuntarily as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Does it hurt? I’ll stop if it does.”

“No—no, just keep going.” He looked back at her as she pet the ring of muscle. “It just feels…strange.”

“Bad-strange?”

“No…just different-strange.” He was always weirdly honest during sex.

From the looks of it, Eisuke didn’t seem to have considerable experience down there, yet he still agreed to her humor her idiosyncrasies. The fact that they even got this far astounded her, especially as the dildo hung between her legs.

She licked her lips. She’d make sure he felt good, the same way he always did for her.

In a swift motion, she took his cock into her mouth and sucked. His hips jerked again, and she took that as a sign of pleasure. From where she knelt, she could tell he was struggling not to screw it all, grab her head, and fuck her mouth with wild abandon—not that she’d mind.

Nevertheless, there was a silent agreement that tonight was about her, and Eisuke Ichinomiya never broke his promises.

She took him even deeper down her throat when she gently pushed a finger inside him. His breathing quickened, and she pushed inside just a tad harder.

“Are you—are you in?” The composure he had earlier was slowly wearing off, if the way he was gripping the sheets was any indication.

“Yeah.”

“…Continue.”

She moved her finger inside, setting a slow rhythm for both of them to get used to.

“Tell me if I’ve found—” she paused for a bit, realizing she was going in this blindly, “the spot.”

“No,” he replied. So there was a spot. She wondered if hitting that spot would feel the same, similar to when he hit hers.

She supposed being breached for the first time was going to be mildly uncomfortable for anyone, even for Eisuke. In high school, she’d lost her virginity to her first boyfriend, and looking back on it now, she didn’t feel particularly good—they were just two teenagers trying to figure out where the hell things were supposed to go. During those days, she realized that touching herself felt eons better than having her ex guess where her hole was. She knew just where exactly to stroke, to touch, and that made her nights a little less dissatisfying.

Hm. If she applied the same rationale she used on herself on Eisuke—curling her finger upward, using a consistent motion—

“Fuck!” Eisuke’s whole body shook, and he looked down at her in a panic. “Do that—hah—again.”

The pride of making him shudder in pleasure from fingering his ass hit her all at once, and with a renewed vigor, she repeated the motion.

He bit his bottom lip as she did so, and she could tell he was still trying to keep some semblance of control by holding his voice back. She’d have to up the ante.

She pulled her finger out, put more lube on her hand, and pushed two fingers inside.

He moaned immediately at the contact, and from her place, she watched in awe as he writhed and squirmed in place. They’d had sex more times than she could count, and she couldn’t recall ever hearing him moan. Pants, yes. Grunts, absolutely. Moans were new, and now she found herself understanding why he’d always encourage her screams in bed.

“Does it feel good, Eisuke?” she asked sweetly, repeating the same question he’d asked her so many times before.

He was never big on verbal confirmation, but his resounding groan put a smile on her face.

One more finger, and she just knew he was close, especially with how his hips were jerking upwards.

But no, she couldn’t have him finish just yet. This was only the beginning. With the way his eyes were focused on hers, she knew he understood.

She removed her fingers from him, and applied the lubricant generously—this time, on the dildo. He watched her intently, and she could just smell the combined anticipation and lust coming from him in waves. She lined the tip with his hole, but didn’t push it inside yet.

“I know I said this earlier, but if you ever get uncomfortable…tell me to stop.”

“How considerate,” he snorted, “coming from someone about to fuck me senseless.”

From years of experience, there was only one thing that could shut him up.

Moving forward, she pressed their lips together and let their tongues sloppily meet. As she did so, she pushed the dildo inside, making him squeal (he’d never admit it, but she heard it loud and clear) into her mouth.

The wet and enticingly lewd noise coming from the dildo in his ass encouraged her to keep going.

“Oh—oh god,” Eisuke gasped, calling out a for a deity she knew he didn’t even believe in.

She continued with a slow pace, especially considering how bigger the toy was compared to her fingers. Her hips thrust against him with that same, uniform pace as he laid on the sheets, his mouth open wide.

She remembered how he paced himself whenever he’d pound into her. Copying Eisuke’s motions, she stopped for a moment—and when he looked up at her in indignation at the absence of the friction, she took advantage of that split second to give him a particularly brutal thrust.

“Ah, fuck—" he choked, not even trying to restrain himself anymore. Her lips curled at the sight of her fiancé below her.

This she could used to. Seeing him utterly debased at her hands sent a hot flash of lust to her gut. Only she was privy to this rarity—his legs were shamelessly spread, his eyes were rolled backwards, and his drool dripped down his mouth—

No wonder he liked being in control.

At any point during this whole ordeal, he could have flipped them both over. He had the strength to do it; he was taller than her by almost a foot, and he was fit enough to match even Soryu’s athleticism. But he didn’t.

He let her do as she pleased with him, and she felt her fondness for him bloom tenfold.

“Tell me you like this,” she said, leaning forward to breathe in his ear.

Eisuke glowered at her, summoning the last vestiges of faux-resistance he had left in him. “D-don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to,” he managed.

She narrowed her eyes at him, noticing the red flush of his heavy cock. It stood proud against his stomach, leaking on the ridges of his muscles. Her gaze moved down to the spot where his hole was stretched tightly around the thickness of the toy. His signature words from before played in her mind.

Your body doesn’t lie, he’d always tell her.

Neither does yours, she echoed back.

She increased the pace of her thrusts, and she knew she hit that spot when his moans turned into whimpers. His entire body shuddered at the sheer anticipation of his undoing.

“…Eisuke,” she said.

“What—"

“You’re doing so well.” She felt him jolt at that.

Eisuke whined and shook against her merciless pounding, but he still found the energy to look back at her. He was past the point of scowling now, his eyes shiny with unshed tears and his lips parted for her. Beneath the absolute depravity of it all, there was a tenderness he tried to hide. But she caught it all the same.

“Eisuke,” she repeated his name with all the warmth she could muster, “I love you.”

That had always been his undoing, and today was no different. Despite how aloof he made himself out to be, he’d always come undone whenever she’d say those three words. It was almost like a secret only they knew—that she held his only weakness and that he enjoyed it.

Eisuke let out one last groan of her name as his entire body spasmed at the force of her words. His cock spilled between them, covering them both with his seed. She’d never seen him cum his hard before, and as she jerked him through his orgasm, his heavy breathing slowed down.

Drained, she pulled out of him, unfastened her harness, and slumped next to him. Eisuke still heaved slightly from the tremors of his intense orgasm, but he wrapped his arms around her the moment he felt her beside him.

It was customary for them to cuddle after sex—provided, neither of them passed out first—and she found that this was her favorite part. Having his arms around her waist as he nuzzled between her breasts was a warm kind of intimacy she’d never tire of. She was sure he felt the same way.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, silently listening to the thumps of their heartbeats move in sync.

“MC,” Eisuke said, finally breaking the silence. “Since I did what you asked, can you do me a favor?”

“Okay. What is it?”

He pulled back to stare at her, smirking as he did so.

“Sit on my face.”

She blinked at him twice. “Um, right now?”

“Yes,” he whispered to her ear, sending another shiver up her body. “It’s only fair I do the same for you.”

She should’ve known than to underestimate his seemingly neverending libido. Letting out a resigned laugh, she moved to position herself to straddle him, making sure both her knees were on both sides of his head.

“God, MC,” he breathed, eyes zeroing in on her glistening cunt, “you’re so wet.”

“…No need for the running commentary.” Her cheeks blazed with heat.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed after what you just did?”

“Hey, now, I—"

She couldn’t finish her sentence when she felt his hands grip her hips to pull her down to his face.

“Eisuke—ah—”

His tongue slipped immediately into her slit, and she rode his mouth, feeling the waves of pleasure emanate from her core.

Whenever he ate her out, he sometimes took his time, making sure she almost reached her peak and stopping right before she clenched on his tongue. Other nights, he ate her out with the fervor of a starving man, desperate to burn the taste of her slick to his memory

Tonight seemed to be leaning towards the latter.

Eisuke sucked on her clit, using his tongue to make small circles on the bundle of nerves. He was a far cry from the man she’d just fucked into submission earlier; this Eisuke was merciless and didn’t stop his ministrations, not even when she could already feel the coil within herself tighten.

“Close…I’m close,” she gasped.

A few more licks and one last suckle, and she pressed herself even further against his face. Her pussy clenched around his tongue, and she absently remembered the soundproof walls of their suite meant she could scream as loud as she pleased.

She felt hot pleasure throb within her and pour onto his face. Eisuke, not one to slow down, lapped up the slick like it was his last meal. In her fuck-dazed mind, she could vaguely feel a jolt, followed by something warm and wet behind her, but she paid it no mind.

Exhausted, she pulled away and laid herself next to him, nuzzling his neck.

Beside her, Eisuke was silent, taking in the intimacy of the moment. Her leg moved to wrap around him when she felt the sticky warmth on his stomach. The gears slowly turned in her head.

“Did you just…” The seed on his stomach was still hot, and considering the sudden jerk she’d felt earlier as she climaxed, was it possible that he—untouched—

“Don’t ask,” he murmured back, his arm moving to cover the blush on his face.

She’d long suspected he got off to her pleasure, and his reaction only proved her right.

Oh, Eisuke, she thought. You don’t have to hide that from me.

At that moment, she felt nothing but pure, unadulterated affection for him. With a smile on her face, she pulled him into her arms, hoping he could feel the same warmth he gave her.

#spade writes #kbtbb #kissed by the baddest bidder #voltage inc #eisuke ichinomiya #otp: thank you for being born #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #voltage fanfic #i stand by the idea of both of them being switches #i mean lol bound in love basically confirmed it #anyway lol this is just pure self-indulgence #and a little bit of tenderness if you squint #n//sfw

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jungkookiebus · 4 years

Text

Petals | kth

Genre: hanahaki!au, ANGST Rating: PG13 Pairing: taehyung x reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: heavy angst, unrequited love, mentions of blood (and a fair amount of it), major character death Author’s Note: A kind anon asked, I had never heard of it, but immediately started googling and found the subject pretty fascinating. It’s short and sweet, but I think it covers the angst bases. 🙈

The first time you saw him was in spring. The cherry blossoms were blooming, and life seemed magical. Sun beat down on the campus and right onto him. He must have been a transfer; you hadn’t seen him this semester. His soft brown hair shone with strands of gold in the sunlight. His skin was equally as golden, and he seemed to shine. Whispers went around campus quickly. The new boy was beautiful, that much you knew, but the rest was a mystery. Rumors surfaced that he was some out of town rich kid. Others said he was some poor orphan from Daegu. Whatever he was, he was your new object of affection.

You learned his name when you found out you had chemistry together and his last name put him right next to you. He sat smoothly on the stool next to yours, his sweet scent wafting in your direction.

Taehyung. It rolled off the teacher’s tongue delicately because that was the only way one should say it.

You chanced a glance at him. He must have felt your gaze because he looked over at you and smiled. His smile was boxy, but it reminded you of a heart. His eyes were a deep, chocolate brown.

That spring semester was one to remember for you. Every day, after lunch, he was always happy when he sat down next to you. He’d tell you about the current video games he was trying to beat, the book he read over the weekend, or the strange antics him and his new best friend, Jungkook, got up to. Every now and again his hand would find your arm as he excitedly told you a story. Your face would heat up, but you don’t think he noticed. He’d go on talking like nothing had happened and would eventually ask you what you had been up to.

Your feelings for him grew as the months wore on. His touches would happen more often, and he’d keep his palm against your skin just a little longer than normal. You knew, in your heart, that he was beginning to feel the same way.

That was, until, the last day of the semester before summer break. You were making your way down the hall to your last chemistry class. You were excited to see him, but sad that this would be your last class together. Maybe he would tell you about his feelings? If not, were you prepared to make the first move? But those thoughts were quickly dashed when you saw him in the hallway with her. Your school’s sweetheart was oddly close to him as he stood against the wall. One of his hands was on the strap of his backpack while the other was stuffed into his pocket. She, too, leaned against the wall but her chest was nearly touching his arm and she was doing that disgusting thing that girl’s do when they look up at boys and bat their eyelashes. He was talking to her and smiling. It made your heart drop sickeningly into your stomach. You just looked at them, neither of them noticing, as you passed and walked into class.

Moments later, Taehyung was walking into the room, usual smile on his face as he sat down next to you.

“Everything okay, ____?” he asked.

“Yea,” you mumbled, looking ahead.

He merely shrugged and began rambling on as he usually did. You wanted to pay attention, to give him all you had, but you also wanted to be upset with him. Why was he talking to her of all people? Did he not feel anything for you?

Class went by as usual and at the end, Taehyung was extending his hand towards yours. Your heart flipped in your chest.

“Hey, put your number in here,” he said while handing his phone to you, “so when I finally beat Jungkook at that game I’ll take a picture of his face and send it to you.”

And then again, maybe he did like you? Hope bloomed in your chest like a flower and settled here. Nestled deep in your heart, the petals fluttering in time with your heartbeat.

You put your number in his phone that day and he waved a goodbye to you as you parted ways in the hall. But the joy you felt when you left campus would not be long lived.

Taehyung texted you once and it was as promised, a picture of a sad looking Jungkook. You replied and got nothing in return. The message was left as read in your inbox and there it sat. That was when you coughed up the first petal. Delicate and white, it traveled up your throat as you panicked, and out came the fragile thing. It landed softly in your hand and laid there as if it had just come from a flower. You quickly dropped it on your bed, but the burn in your chest was undeniable. Utter pain coursed out from your lungs and to the rest of your body. Heartache charted a course of hot fire to your nerves.

You cried, holding your phone, telling yourself just to text him, but if he liked you, he would have messaged you back. That whole semester was nothing to him. Your talks about art, music, and books was just filler for him before class started. He was nice and social to everyone, so what really set you apart? Nothing. You were as forgettable to him as the rest of your classmates.

Later that night, you’d cough a pink petal, just a tad bigger than the last. You placed it with the other on your nightstand. They delicately overlapped, seeming to have come from the same flower. Perfect matches. Most unlike you and Taehyung.

A week later and you gathered up the courage to text him. Not even five minutes later he replied to you. The ache in your chest subsided a little. The tickle in the back of your throat wasn’t quite as pronounced. He seemed happy that you texted him. Or, as much as the text could portray emotion. He told you about his family vacation, where he had gone, the things he had seen, etc. He began to attach photos and you were excited that he was wanting to share such intimate details about his life. The first few were some nature shots, a couple of squirrels, and then you began to get to ones of his family. His little brother was just as cute as him and you saw that the both took after their father.

The next one sent your heart plummeting into your stomach.

It was Taehyung and her. The girl from the hallway. The one batting her eyelashes so innocently at him. You felt instantly sick, bile rising in your throat. You dropped your phone on your bed as you began to cough. It lit up with text after text from him, but you couldn’t see through the blur of tears as you coughed. Your chest was on fire and it felt as if someone had stuffed them full of old wash clothes. For the life of you, you could not catch your breath. Something was travelling up your throat, but it didn’t feel like sick. You clutched at your throat as you tried to get any amount of air around what was coming up. In the last few moments when you thought you were going to pass out, it fell from your mouth. A small bundle of forget-me-nots lay in your bed as if they had just been plucked from the bush. You inhaled a large breath, throat burning as you did so, but the burn in your lungs worsened.

You grabbed your phone and unlocked it, wiping away your tears so you could see the screen. Taehyung had kept on talking as if he hadn’t just sent you a picture of him and that girl. He kept talking to you like he had in class; like you were the only person in the world. He had begun asking you questions, but his last message was that she had just arrived at his house and he had to go.

I’ll talk to you later, yea?

No. No, he wouldn’t. This burn in your chest was killing you. You coughed into your hand and blood was spattered on your skin. The metallic taste of it made you sick as you stumbled to the bathroom. Leaning against your sink, you pulled the glass that was sat next to it under the tap. You drank heartily but was soon coughing most of it up. It came out stained pink, mixed with your blood, as you struggled to breathe. You dropped the glass into the sink as you fell to your knees. You couldn’t stop coughing. Your lungs burned like paper in a flame. More blood dripped from between your lips. Something was coming up your throat again. Tears streamed down you face, mixing with the blood, and caused a horrid display of red lines down your neck, mapping out your death. Two bundles of forget-me-notes fell to the bathroom tile. Their various blue, pinks, and whites were quickly becoming stained in the deep red blood that dripped to the floor. You were on your hands and knees but were becoming weak quickly. Your knees wobbled and your elbows began to give way as more flowers fell from your mouth. Soon, you would black out and hopefully the rest would be painless.

Yet, you couldn’t quit thinking about him, his soft smile, those bright brown eyes, and the soft, deep tenor of his voice.

Your thoughts were filled of still images and moments with Taehyung as you collapsed to the floor. By now, it was littered with your macabre floral artwork. Your eyes closed as the flowers filled your throat, a whole bouquet waiting to escape.

And it was his voice that said your name one last time and it was his face that you saw when your body seemed to sigh its last breath, if you had any. Blood still dripped thickly down your cheek and on the flowers beneath you. Finally, you were freed from the pain. No longer would you feel his rejection nor the anxiety that plagued your mind.

The medical examiner sat in a soft crouch next to your body. She came in after evidence had been marked off, photographed, and toted away in sterile bags. Now, it was just her, and you lying on the floor, in the bathroom. She quirked her head to the side as she searched your face. Your parents had found you the next morning, so even though the color had drained from your face, something about your features seemed…bright. The flowers spilling from your mouth hadn’t been removed, but the rest around you had been carefully stored away. Despite the gruesome, bloody bouquet however, it almost looked as if you had died with a turn of your lips. A grisly smile. This death would follow her forever.

The girl with the flower filled lungs. What a horrible, beautiful death.

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #bts angst #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #reader insert #tw:death #tw:blood #tw:character death #taehyung #bts #hanahaki

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reeesea · 4 years

Text

Something Sweet: Part Seven

~sweet home~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warning: mild language

words: 4.7k

summary: Home is where your bros at right? right.

a/n: I actually like this chapter, shocker. i hope you enjoy

ao3

----------------

Minho stared at the video file sitting on his computer, on the familiar application site that had been haunting his mind for the past couple years. The debate he found himself in with himself on whether or not to submit another application, had become his default subject of thought for much of the past few weeks. All building up to right now. Something had tipped the scale though. Something that reminded him if he didn't submit an entry this year, that he might as well have given up on his one dream. His one goal. The only thing that had been keeping him motivated through university. So once again he found himself rationalizing, and knew that if anything he had to try, at least just one last time.

Upload complete, Thank you for your entry!

Minho sighed loudly. He had sent it in. The first part of the application. It was just a basic dance routine supplied by the academy. He had practice and recorded it all within one sitting. Having been a part of a dance crew for much of the past year had allowed him to quickly pick up choreography and perfect it. The other reason being that he wanted more than anything to get the overbearing presence of the audition tape out of his head space as soon as possible. A heavy sigh left his lips as he laid back down on the studio floor, not too long after a ping of his phone revived just enough for him to check his messages.

[Rich Boy Han Jisung]

2:50 pm

Minho-hyung!

I hope your day has been going well~

Sadly, no updates on when ill be free :/

They’re working us hard for the debut

It’s alright Ji, work hard!

You better be taking care of yourself tho...

4:03 pm (new)

Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)

{link attached}

I hope you like it!!!!

Oh, no i havent

I’ll give it a listen ^-^

As of late it wasn’t uncommon for Jisung to send the older songs he thought he would like. Always saying some cheesy line that was so blatantly sweet it made Minho flustered everytime. This time of course was no exception.

Ping.

HYUNG THAT EMOJI

Asjdnjsfma

I knew I was rubbin goffon you

Kkkkk

Dont get too ahead of yourself

atleast I can still type coherent sentences

~goffon~

Boo :p

Why Jisung was so persistent about sending him songs was lost on the older, but it was a sweet reminder that someone was thinking about him. It had been a while since Minho had even imagined that someone took a few minutes of their day to actually consider how he was doing. It didn't quite make sense to him that suddenly out of nowhere, there was his boy, man, person, who purposefully took the time to dedicate brain cells to his existence. Wild.

Minho hurriedly clicked the link to the song that Jisung had sent. It was an upbeat song, with a strong but subtle strumming of a guitar to keep the song’s pace just quick enough to be comfortable. “There's no one else that could ever hold me like you do.” The lyrics were in the realm of positive longing and companionship, but the dips into minor chords and tone of the singer created a mood of desperation. More than anything, the song brought forth a story to Minho. One that he could see with his eyes close and feel his body wanting to move to.

A smile stretched across his face, as he rose from his spot on the floor, dusting off the dull ache and pressure in his shoulders from having just finished a routine not even 10 minutes ago.

“But I know that I'd be crazy, Not to wanna be the one to keep you up all night”

Woah there Jisung, at least take me out to dinner first. He made a mental note to tease the younger later about his “Made me think of you :)” line later. Already stretching and drawing a plan in his head, Minho took his phone and saved the song, pressing the repeat button twice, to allow the guitar chords and chorus harmonies to carry on endlessly. A smirk stretched into an excited smile. Not wanting to jinx himself, a shy “finally” was whispered in the back of Minho’s mind at the surge of inspiration, but not spoken aloud just yet.

---

Flashing lights, heavy makeup, hot clothing, and too much fog from the smoke machine is all Jisung had thought about for the last couple hours. 3RAHCHA was in their last photo shoot for their debut. The concept photos would be released later through the week, slowly revealing the three members and their group as officially signed with JJP ent.

The multicolor lights had been running through his vision for so long that as soon as he walked into their Green Room, he had almost forgotten what color everything actually was. Looking in the mirror he saw the blonde highlighted streaks in his hair had settled nicely, slightly slicked back. The stylist had surely done their jobs well. Painting the three rappers up to look less like the nightcrawlers they were, and into something that leather and fishnet clad superstars might look like was definitely a challenge. Jisung had his makeup done just enough to give his eyes a smoky look to them, and grey contacts to emphasize his gaze. The ensemble he had on looked like something that had come straight from a catwalk. Fishnets crawling up his arms from his gloved hands and an asymmetrical shit he for sure would not have been able to put on without the help of his stylist-noona. All that plus some leather pants and combat boots, he definitely looked more like his persona J.One than the notorious hoodie clad couch potato named Jisung he usually found himself as.

Having just finished his own solo shoot, he signaled Changbin to head on to the set as he returned. The older nodded from his chair in front of the makeup station, as the artist finished the final touches to his eyeliner. Jisung watched as the shorter rapper walked out to the set in a white puffer jacket that he somehow pulled off, even with the bright red pants he wore. A part of Jisung was thankful his stylist hadn’t taken that many liberties with his outfit, but the makeup and outfit Changbin wore really only emphasized his intimidating stare and the wideness of his shoulders. It was undeniable that their concept photos would come out well.

Chan, who was seated on a couch, eating some of the provided sandwiches, was already hunched over his computer and mixing equipment again, airpods in. Probably working on tracks for their third comeback knowing him. Not wanting to jump right back into work Jisung snagged a few snacks from the buffet and found a chair he could lay on. Listening to music that wasn't work had become a rarity for Jisung in the years he had been with 3RACHA. Of course he always tried to stay on top of the recent pop and hip hop trends, but straying any farther than his trusty morning and workout playlists was more than unlikely.

Lately though, Jisung found himself looking through a lot of random indie, alternative, “western” pop, and especially dance music. The versatility of the genres was comforting to Jisung in the rather turbulent state his emotions and mental state have been in, as the debut approached. Also Minho. Meeting Minho definitely had introduced a whole new set of feelings Jisung was still working on navigating. As he listened to the different songs that populated this radio, he told himself he was just looking for some inspiration for his lyrics and 3RACHA’s new music, but even he knew that was mostly a lie.

Ever since that night at the bar with Minho he found himself always considering the older and what he would think of a song or how he would dance to it, or if he would even like it. After pointing out that he liked a particularly upbeat pop song with melancholic lyrics, during their impromptu karaoke session, Jisung had been delvinging into all related categories to find songs he thought the older might enjoy. He wanted more than anything to inspire his older companion? Partner? (that was a later Jisung question.) but he wanted to repay the man who had allowed him to get out of his creative slump. That night, as soon as the youngest rapper had returned to the 3RACHA “house” he felt the start of at least 5 separate tracks and choruses appear in his brain. His two hyungs jumped into action along with him as Jisung desperately tried to write and record everything that was jumping out of his brain at once.

Jisung remembered Chan’s smile and encouraging words as he fitted a few of his new verses to songs they had previously put on the shelf. After finding a particularly emotional but upbeat song he immediately wanted to send it to Minho. He always got hung up on what to say with the link. Other than the thought vomit that occurred every time he chooses to send him a potentially good song: “Found this song? U Like???” No Jisung, what are you five?? “I think you will enjoy this song. Please give it a listen? :0” No that just sounds desperate.

“You doing alright there Ji, I can hear you sighing through my earbuds?” Chan peeked out from under his styled bangs with a raised eyebrow, sending Jisung into a red embarrassed mess that he had been caught. He hoped his layers of foundation would cover it up.

“Yeah fine fine, don't worry. I’m FINE.” Attempting to hide Jisung curled up tighter into his arm chair. Just be casual Jisung it's a song not a marriage proposal dear god. “Have you heard this song? Made me think of you :)” Good, yes fine. Send.

Minho responded immediately and cutely with an emoji that made his heart jump a little. Minho would respond always with a variation of a “Thanks! I’ll go listen”, but Jisung had yet to receive any confirmation that the older actually enjoyed the links he sent, much less had found some inspiration in them. At this point the only thing he could do was hope. He wanted nothing more than Minho to be smiling because of him.

Officially exhausted, it wasn’t until late when the 3RACHA boys had finally made it back to their apartment. The day Jisung had, had been anything but short. Almost collapsing immediately on the couch. Sana notified them that she had already ordered food to be delivered for dinner and that they should go to bed as soon as they had finished eating. Chan looked like he was about to pass out on the couch before the food even arrived, which was more than likely at this point. After their shoot they were immediately sent to a few other meetings laying out their marketing and schedule plans for the upcoming weeks. Although glad they were able to part with their artistic and career decisions with their company, it did add a lot of work and responsibilities to the trio.

Jisung’s phone had died somewhere after meeting 3 of 5 and he had submitted to having to carry the lifeless brick with him anyway. Not ideal for his wandering mind and anxiety that comes with a few too many stressful meetings. Once finally arriving home he went and plugged his phone in at the charger on the kitchen counter. Lighting up with notification buzzes as it rebooted back to life.

[ 5 new messages from Lee Minho hyungie]

Immediately cursing himself internally for not bringing his charger with him, he opened his messages from Minho ignoring all others.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

5:45 pm

Hey Jisungie, just finished up practice!

Actually may or may not have danced to the song u sent…

Maybe I’ll show you some day hehehehehehehehe ;)

7:21 pm

Han Jisung, did you forget your charger again >:/

Well I’m off to my late shift, I hope you have a good night~

Jisung always found himself smiling at Minho’s before work texts. They were always so cute. Either some sort of sweet well wishing or some other Minho-esque goodbye, along the lines of “don’t die mysteriously while i'm gone ;p” or “Have a good night, try not to miss my WONDERFUL company too much <3”. (The hearts always made Jisung grin hard, even if they were sarcastic)

This night though, Jisung found him almost jumping in victory at Minho’s text.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

12:35 am

YOU DANCED TO THE SONG

Really?!?!?!

What did you like about it?

When can I see????

You better not leave me on read after work!

Jisung tried to imagine what kind of dance Minho would do to the track he sent,and suddenly found himself flush at the thought of watching the other dance. Somehow, watching Minho dance, felt more intimate than any other situation that they’ve shared. Thankfully Minho seemed to want to hold off, so at least of the time being Jisung’s heart was safe. The exhaustion and stress from the day faded ever so slightly as soon as he thought of Minho with coordinating blush to match.

Jisung you lovestruck fool.

“Jisung! Food’s here!!! If you don't hurry Chan’ll eat your portion again.”

“HEY! It was one time.” Laughter filled the apartment gently as they all respectively fought gravity to get up and make their way to collect the food from the delivery man.

---

Minho tore up the stairs and through their apartment door as quickly as he could without spilling the carry out food he had in his arms. The clock was ticking a little past midnight and fear set in that the older would miss their planned celebrations.

Bursting through the door, “Did I beat him?!” The oldest was frazzled from rushing in order to beat their third roommate home from work.

“Barely! I was afraid you wouldn’t make it, with having to bring the carry out.” Hyunjin’s sigh of relief was visible throughout the boy's now relaxed body. He had spent the last ten minutes hoping that they would still be able to pull off their surprise party for the youngest. Pacing around and failing to come up with any backup plans if Minho had been later than Felix. Thankfully for them both, Minho had a way of always being on time.

“Hey all that matters is I made it. Is everything else ready?” Looking around Minho could see that Hyunjin’s bed was transitioned back into the couch setting and that the floors had been tidied up. A couple stray balloons littered the floor as well as a home made “happy birthday felix” sign hung from their living room screen divider.

“Yep, I've just been waiting anxiously for you to get home for the past half hour.”

The door handle of their apartment began to jiggle, signaling the two boys to spring into action. Minho setting down the carry out, and Hyunjin frantically lights candles on the small cake on the coffee table. The door swung open, revealing a disheveled after-work Felix wandering through the door. As soon as the boy turned toward their living room, he was accosted with shouts and the flailing limbs of his hyungs.

“Surprise!!!” “Happy Birthday!!!”

Felix’s smile erased any of the signs of exhaustion off his face immediately as soon as he spotted his hyungs excited expressions. The cake, the streamers, the balloons, and sign all sparked some joyful tearing of his eyes as he set down his things and made his way to the small cake with a few random lit candles on top. The clock had crossed over into the next day as Felix had made his way home, that he had almost forgotten that it was now technically the early morning hours of his birthday. Coming home to joyful cheers instead of their usual exhausted silence had given him a certain happiness that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

For all of three of the roommates this was their first time having a celebration in their small home together. By now the sense of home was undeniable and without realizing it all of them had begun to consider each other and their shared 3 room apartment, home.

The disjointed singing of happy birthday followed by the laughter and conversation surrounded their coffee table as the three enjoyed their small carryout feast and cake. The warmth that their company gave each other lasted well into the night.

“Hyung! It's my birthday, stop eating all the cake!!!”

“I have no idea what youre talking about Lixie.” Minho says while actively taking another bite of their 2 person sized cake.

“Hyung!” The laughter of the oldest filled the room followed by the other two’s not too long after.

“Happy Birthday Lixie~” The smile hadn’t left the freckled boys faces since he had sat down, and remained as he pulled his two roommates into a forceful hug. It was his birthday so the boys both submitted to the clingy nature of their third roommate, as always.

---

It was late into the early morning by the time Minho had checked his phone.

[ 5 new messages from Rich Boy Han Jisung]

A soft pang of guilt hits his chest after reading the younger’s texts and realizing that he did in fact leave the other on read for the better part of the last two hours.

2:43 am

I’m so sorry Sungie!

We were celebrating Felix’s birthday, and I didnt check my phone….

Look at the cute cake we got him!

{photo attached}

Minho sent the selfie of the three of them with Felix’s cake, if anything just to lessen the guilt in his chest. Hoping that the cuteness of Felix’s smile would be enough to forgive him for low key ghosting him for a few hours. Minho knows that on the days Jisung has the most schedules are the hardest for him mentally, and he always tries his best to be there for him and send him a message or two to lessen the load on those nights. The fact that he hadn’t been there tonight filled him with some worry. A part of him hoped that the younger would’ve been asleep by now but their late night track record did not exactly support that.

---

Jisung had been lying painfully awake in his bed for an hour when he heard the buzz of his phone. Slightly upset with his body for not giving into the exhaustion he had gathered from the day, and just letting him sleep, he turned to the side table to check the messages. Awake fully ,but only mentally half conscious, he read through his messages:

Minho. Oh, yay, it's Minho.

Felix’s Birthday. Oh right he had mentioned that coming up.

Cute cake. Aw that cake is really cute… wait.

Birthday.

I have one of those, around this time to-

I missed my birthday. I forgot my birthday. Everyone forgot.

The cute picture Minho had sent was so filled with happiness that Jisung almost let the pain slide and pass the moment by. But something just didn't feel right in letting himself forget his own birthday. The fact that the others hadn’t remembered didn’t bother him too much. Chan, Changbin, they were all busy with schedules and he can't blame them. Especially since he, himself had forgotten. No birthday text from his family either. Unsurprising though since he rarely got in contact with them since moving to Korea in high school. He forgot though.

He wasn’t quite sure why this was bothering him so much. Some people don't even celebrate their birthday, or remember how old they are, but Jisung had always prided himself on never letting his work take over entirely who he was. To exhausted-Jisung, he couldn’t help but feel like this was one step toward losing the grip on who he was, and that was in itself, terrifying.

The coldness of his bed and the dark expanse of his room seemed to only perpetuate the way Jisung felt. Floating, alone, lost. His insecurity was starting to come into focus, and no wonder it had been keeping him up. He had been spiraling for days probably, without even knowing it. The buzz of his phone lit up his face, snapping him out of his own thoughts for a moment.

[Lee Minho hyungie]

2:50 pm

You okay Jisung?

I hope I didn't wake you

Jisung noticed that the app had revealed that he had read the messages and was indeed awake. Unfortunately, exhausted-and--spirling-Jisung was the only one present enough to send a response. Hopefully Minho wouldn’t mind him too much.

You didn’t wake me, was already up :/

It looks really fun hyung

I just realized something too

My birthday was yesterday

I forgot it

Jisung found himself fighting the watering of his eyes as he sent those messages. Why was he crying? He just forgot, he was busy. It was okay. Right? The tears seemed to only cloud his vision more, blocking him from reading the messages from Minho that were buzzing and populating the screen. Not bothering to wipe his eyes, he let them blurr.

Wh- do you- mea- ???

Jis--ng ar- y-- ok--?

I-- sorry i- di-nt -----

---- wa-t --- ca-l?

--sung?

A few moments passed, without him realizing it, as his phone buzzed some more, screen changing to the incoming call screen. Sucking up his tears and drying his damp screen, it took a few tries before answering the call.

---

“Jisung!?” Jisung nearly flinched, just nearly.

“Hi hyung, How was work?” hoping to cover up his tears by changing the subject. Jisung thought it was a pretty good attempt.

“How wa- what, no. Jisung are you okay?” There it was again. The undeniable worry in Minho’s voice. Ow.

“Yeah I’m okay.” Despite Jisung’s efforts it was obvious to Minho that the other had in fact been crying. Not wanting to push the younger though, he allowed him to change the subject

“.... okay, I just want to check in on you. I worry you know, Sung!”

“About me? that's silly hyung.” The distance in his tone replaced Jisung’s usual brightness, and it hurt Minho to hear it.

“I don't think so. How am I to know what my favorite customer is up to? You may be a soon to be rap star but that doesn’t keep you from ignoring your hyung.” Even though Jisung giggled at that, the irony of the statement wasn’t lost on Minho. A wave of guilt washed over his chest as soon as he said it.

“I am sorry though. For not answering sooner and everything.”

And for reminding you of your birthday, and making you cry, and not being there to make you smile.

“No don’t be sorry! That’ll only make me feel worse for bothering you… I think the exhaustion was just making me delirious, I haven't been sleeping well these past few nights.” Minho had to fight his initial protective instincts that told him to scold the younger for not taking care of himself, because a part of him knew that the younger was certainly trying his best to do so.

“Well if you can’t sleep ever, just call me okay? I’m usually up from my shifts anyway. Plus if I'm not up surely one of my roommates is. Felix will probably never let go of you once he finds your birthday brothers." Hearing Minho's laugh lightened the tight pressure that Jisung hadn't realized had been settled in his chest.

"Okay hyung, i'd like that I think."

"You better. My time rarely comes free, and this is a limited time offer." Jisung’s laugh is a little bit more enthusiastic this time.

“Of course hyung.” A silence came over them for a moment. Not an awkward one, more of a point of realization and relief. Like the feeling after having a good cry, in Jisung’s case.

“Happy belated birthday Jisung.”

“Thanks hyung… Did you have a fun time with Felix?”

“Yeah! It was actually a lot of fun. Just some carry out and cake after work, but it was good to relax with them. We don't always have free time together, and haven’t had the chance to celebrate anything until now. Hyunnie luckily found a cake on sale at the mart today, sparking this whole thing.”

Minho remembered the frantic call from the younger as he delved into his plans for giving Felix the “perfect surprise birthday celebration” because he had “found the perfect cake to match Felix’s cuteness.” It was on sale. Also because “Come on Min-hyung Felix would absolutely do the same for us.” Explaining the situation to Jisung really did solidify the fact that Minho knew Felix, would in fact, plan some adorable birthday celebration for the older two if given the opportunity.

“What would you guys have done if he hadn't found the cake?”

“I’m not sure maybe it would’ve just been a carry-out celebration.”

“Still sounds really nice hyungie. You and your roommates seem so close.”

“I suppose shared rent does that to people.” Minho laughed it off but he had begun to cherish the brotherly bond that had grown between his roommates.

Not having ever considered it before, the fact that the roommates were only able to buy a cake because it happened to be on sale, revealed to Jisung that their financial situations may have been farther apart than he realized. Money had never been a barrier that Jisung had to face, always having family (or honestly Changbin) help pay for his living and pursuit of his dreams. Sure he’s had part time jobs in the past but he never found himself worrying about not making enough each month. Not going to university definitely was a large factor in maintaining his “affordable” lifestyle.

“It's nice you do things for each other. I can't remember the last time my hyungs and I have done something together that didn't have to do with our music.” Jisung started to feel some sort of jealousy at the closeness that Minho and his roommate had found in each other. Financial guilt and emotional jealousy are a strange combination for a half conscious Jisung to say the least.

“Are those fools not taking care of my Sung properly? Illegal, tell them to call me I have to yell at them too. They better not be working you too hard.”

‘My Sung’ Jisung almost choked. Almost.

“Nonono Hyung! They take care of me fine, we're all just exhausted with work.”

“Hmmmm okay they get a pass this time, but please relay my threat.”

“Okay okay I will.”

“You should probably get some rest soon. You're busy tomorrow right?”

Jisung yawned in response, which was enough convincing for Minho that he needed to rest.

“Okay looks like it's sleepy time for hardworking Jisung~”

“Wait hyung!” Jisung wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet, even though his body was actively fighting him.

“Yes belated birthday boy?”

“Thank you for not letting me be a sad gremlin all night. It would've been nice to have spent my birthday with you, but you still made me feel better.”

The musings of sleepy Jisung were just about enough to let the fondness burst from Minho’s chest. As much as he continues to hide it, the fondness still seeps into his voice, “Of course, Jisung we always have next year.” A promise he wasn’t sure he could keep but Jisung always made him want to try new things.

“Next year?” The sleepiness had definitely taken over, making his voice much softer than his usual bright edge.

“Yes next year... Goodnight Sungie, call me back if you can't sleep okay.”

“Mmkay, G’night hyungie.” Already half asleep by the time he hung up, Minho was glad that the younger was finally able to rest. Glancing at his roommates huddled together on the couch already drifting off, Minho accepted that it was his turn to finally rest knowing that all his younger companions were all safely sleeping. Hyung instincts he supposes.

-----

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#skz au #skz fic #stray kids au #stray kids fic #lee minho #han jisung #minsung #leeknow #skz lee know #skz han #stray kids #lee felix #hwang hyunjin

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evelinamox · 4 years

Text

Mammon x MC - Bewitched

*Side note before reading; I wrote this a few weeks ago. Been really out of practice writing, my peak was in 2017, so please go easy on me. ❤️ Also I should have named this something more like “Fell For You” 😂*

"Is he always late?" You groan to Satan as you wait outside RAD for Mammon to show up. Leaning against a wall, visibly pouting.

Satan shrugged and thumbed through one of his books. "Knowing him, he probably fell asleep in class or another teacher is scolding him for his grades."

You slid down against the wall until you were sitting on the ground. "Sadly I wouldn't be surprised," You looked down and picked at a loose thread on your RAD jacket. "Why did I even agree to meet with him here when he can't even try being on time? I'm never late so how come he can be whenever he chooses?"

Satan closed his book and looked down at you. "I have heard that exact line from you five times now. If you hate waiting on him then say something. I need to get going, good luck." With that he stepped away before you could even come up with a rebuttal.

Has it really been five times now? I mean I enjoy going with him places, especially photo shoots, but him always being late.. I think I'd rather be stood up at this point because at least it'd be clear how little he cares.

While lost in thought, Mammon snuck up to your side and attempted to scare you by grabbing your hip. Being an easily spooked, you let out an embarrassing yelp of fear that caught the attention of any demons within earshot.

"Grr Mammon!" You yelled at him as you jumped to your feet. Even while standing straight and trying to appear angry, you weren't near intimidating to him.

Mammon laughed at your attempt to be scary and ruffled your hair. "That's right! The Mammon has bested you! Say my name again for my victory!" He beamed a smile at you and put a hand behind his ear waiting for you to say his name again.

Crossing your arms at him and pouting, you shook your head in refusal. "Nope! Not happening!"

Mammon exaggerated a shocked look and clutched at his chest, pretending you physically hurt him. "After I grace you with my presence and you refuse my simple request?" Though still upset, his goofy nature caused you to crack a smile despite your annoyance.

Seeing you had cheered up some, Mammon did a "after you" hand motion, you started the walk together from RAD to Majolish.

Even while feeling a little better, Satans advice kept nagging at you until you spoke up. "Ya know... Not much of gracing me with your presence if you're making me wait every time." You said sounding dejected while kicking the same pebble every few steps to keep from looking at him. "I don't want to keep waiting for you on stuff you invited me to. I'm never late when it comes to our plans." The truth in your words hurt as they came out. You wanted to spend more time with him but being late for every plan he made got old fast.

Mammon at first became defensive at your words, "Why should I change my habits for a mere human?" but when you started picking up speed to get away from him, he quickened his pace to keep up with you. "Okay, fine! I will try to be on time from now on."

Due to his words you stop walking and so does he. "Promise?" You ask him with a hopeful tone.

He rolled his eyes at your question before saying "yes, I promise."

Without thinking you grabbed his hand while smiling at him. "Thank you!"

He became a bit flustered at first before nervously scratching the back of his head with his free hand. "N-no problem, (y/n)."

Unintentionally he looked down at your joined hands, but when you noticed and tried to pull away he held on tighter. "We'll keep it this way for now so I know where you are." He said while blushing brighter than you thought possible. You began blushing too since he wouldn't let go, but you went along with it as you both walked on.

Watching the shoot was intense as usual for all the workers. To avoid being caught in the hustle of all the other workers you took your usual spot against a wall between some unused equipment. You didn't ever mind your hide away nook since it also gave a decent side view of the action, and it was better than staying home studying.

After some time passed while watching the shoot, it started feeling awkward just watching Mammon. You liked him and he was undeniably hot, but you had a creeping feeling later he was going to say something like "Couldn't keep your eyes off me huh? Can't say I blame you though." Plus you weren't just tagging along to be some weird fan as much as it was entertaining.

Just as you took out your DDD to check Mononoke Land, you catch a glimpse of him winking at you which seemed to be anything but what the camera man wanted.

Was that intentional? Some kind of signal? You asked yourself. After that you continued to watch to see if it'd happen again. Before you knew it you forgot your plans catching spirits of Mononoke. Distraction. Definitely a distraction tactic that worked too well.

Finally the camera man ended the session and one of the assistants brought him a towel while a second assistant brought him a drink. It was noticeable that she tried to hold a conversation but he clearly just wanted to get away with how disinterested he acted.

Seeing him walk your direction you wanted to gather items and be ready to leave together. Rushing to pack your bag you didn't notice how numb your legs and butt were, causing you to stumble forward. Before you could fall face first Mammon caught you with his left arm wrapping around the front of you. Effortlessly he pulled you back up but then didn't let go. "Oh human, what would you do without me?" He laughed while still holding you against him.

Blushing from his bare muscles wrapped around you in what could best be described as a hug from behind, you glance around and notice a few staff looking at you two. Out of all the glances, there was a particular set of eyes glaring you down from the assistant that was trying to talk with him earlier.

"Probably have a few extra bruises." You try to laugh off how awkward you felt and lightly pushed off his arm that was still wrapped around you. "How much longer?" You nervously ask, feeling like a sheep with a wolf across the room planning its next meal.

"Aww want to know how long till we can leave and you can be alone with me?" Mammon beamed his same cocky smile.

Though you weren't sure it was actually happening, it felt as though the second assistant was starting through your back harder than before. If looks could kill, a crater would've been in your place. "Thanks." You sigh the word under your breath avoiding looking in her direction.

Completely oblivious to how uncomfortable you were, Mammon continued. "I'll get changed and we'll go. I'm not getting paid for cleanup so I'm not staying."

"I'll wait for you outside." You quickly answered before making a break to get out, not wanting to be alone in what felt like a lions den.

Waiting outside and taking in a fresh breath of air, you felt a dozen times better at the least. Mammon didn't take long either, but you did notice him shoving a strange crumpled piece of paper in his pocket while stepping out.

Awkwardly stopping at your side he extended his hand out to you while also bashfully looking away. "Let's get going."

Reaching out to grab his hand but stopping, you couldn't help but feel flustered. "Are you sure you want to still lead around a clumsy human?" You poked fun at yourself thinking back to him catching you.

Even after your question he still held his hand out but then looked back down to you. "It'd be for my own amusement, I'm not concerned or anything like that." He argued back, trying hard to not let his emotions show through.

Knowing he was trying to hide that he wanted to hold hands, you couldn't help but be a bit excited. Quickly you took hold of his hand and left together.

The walk home was fine, if not a little tiring. As a thank you gift you left a kiss on Mammon's cheek which left him so flustered that he was speechless as you quickly stepped away to hide your own embarrassment.

Next few days passed like any other school days, save for a few exchanged tsundere level flirting lines from Mammon and the usually shenanigans from the other brothers.

Early Saturday morning while sleeping you were suddenly awoken by rapid knocking on your door followed by a visitor coming in without permission.

Without even giving you a chance to comprehend his presence, Mammon deemed it appropriate to jump onto your bed in excitement.

"The hell do you want?!" You yelled while throwing a pillow at his face.

Mammon still excited ignored the pillow assault and showed you what looked like a paystub. "I got paid and decided you deserve a night out at a restaurant as thanks for coming with! We'll leave at 6p.m., so don't keep me waiting!"

He seemed so excited but you still wanted to pelt him with more pillows for waking you at 7 a.m.. "If you let me go back to sleep I'll give you a night to remember," you said, not really thinking on the meaning of the phrase.

Mammon's eyes widened and before you could take it back he ran out of the room while saying "Deal!"

"Nice one." You sighed sarcastically to yourself when you realized what you just said. In a short time you rolled back over hoping to sleep more but as soon as you closed your eyes many questions started running through your mind: Is this a date? Which restaurant? How should I dress? Did I really say I'd give him a night to remember? I mean I guess I wouldn't mind but... I must know if this is a date! It must be a date if he got that excited right? How long has he been planning this? Since when has he been a morning person?

After a fitful attempt at sleep that only lasted a few more hours, time passed and you began to obsess a bit too much over finding a outfit that wasn't too casual but also not to fancy either. Asking Asmo for help near noon, his shopping trip for you ended up taking another four hours before you could break free and retreat to your room.

Finishing putting on your favorite outfit of the assortment Asmo picked, you worry seeing that it was already 5:20p.m. and you haven't even attempted to help your hair yet. Sitting down at the vanity in your room, suddenly you noticed your face in the mirror appeared distorted. Your reflection appeared... Dead?

-Mammon's view-

While looking at his phone Mammon noticed it was already 6:20p.m.. Already annoyed he paced by the floor. "I gave (y/n) plenty of time to get ready. How dare that human make me wait." Getting tired of waiting Mammon marched up to your room about ready to pull you out of the room for the date. Nearing your room he felt dark magic in the air similar to what the witches have tortured him with. He made an audible gulp knowing that something wasn't right.

Knocking on your already open door he cautiously stuck his head in. "(Y/n)?"

Stepping into the center of the room he glanced around his eyes landed on a broken mirror and some strange green liquid he's seen before with the same witches he feared.

A churning feeling settled in his stomach and he ran to the first brother that came to mind that could help.

Slamming on the door to the twins room he started shouting. "Beel! Witches got (y/n)! Open up!!"

Beelzebub opened the door quickly when he heard that his favorite human was missing.

Completely panicking that two of Mammons worst fears became one, he didn't know what to do but he knew he needed help. "Beel! Can you sniff out (y/n)?!"

Beelzebub disappointedly shook his head at Mammons idea. "I'm a glutton but I'm not a dog! I will help you look though."

Mammon honestly thought it would be a solid plan for Beelzebub to sniff out (y/n).

Belphegor overhearing the conversation rolled his eyes at his greedy idiot brother, then got out of bed. Without a word he left the room and went down the hallway.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Mammon shouted to his youngest brother. Half tempted to grab Belphi by the back of his neck like a kitten and make him help.

"Getting Lucifer, (y/n) is screwed if you're in charge." Belphie answered with his back to Mammon, still walking down the hall.

Before much time passed all the brothers were searching the property.

When it turned 6:35p.m. it became established there was no sign that a human left on foot.

Lucifer shook his head while thinking over all the information the brothers have gathered. "There's no sign (y/n) left in a normal manner. This means either (y/n) was taken by teleportation magic or managed to break the enchanted locks to the roof. We should all contact with any mages we know to see if they know what happened."

Mammon ignoring the last of Lucifers plan, his eyes widened in realization as all the pieces came together. At the photo shoot the other day he received a message from one of the assistants that was the key to all of this. One side had a phone number but when he checked it the note again later on the numbers were replaced with the message, "A tragic fall at dusk the day of Sabbath."

Mammon didn't think long on this note, thought it was a bad poem from a fan.

Without giving a explanation, he ran as fast as he could up the stairs till he reached the roof exit that only the best at magic should've been able to unlock. Much to his surprise and dismay he was right. Seconds away from dusk, you were stepping to the edge of the roof.

When you stepped off you regained control of your body, giving you a chance to scream out as you fell. Your scream was cut short, not because the ground or form impact, but because you felt someone grab onto but also falling with you. The scent and feel of the person holding on from behind was familiar, but everything was happening so fast you couldn't even think. Mammon had twisted you both in midair so you'd land on him. The feeling of the air engulfing you two before the landing deafening all the senses.

Crash landing together with a loud thud, Mammon let out a gasp while still holding your back tightly to him. "I got you. I have you." He said between gasps.

Opening your eyes you looked up at the building seeing that easily the fall could've severely hurt if not killed you.

Mammon let out a groan before rolling you over to the side of him so he could see your face. "(Y/n)... are you hurt?"

Slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position, you nodded to him, feeling more concerned of his physical condition, though he didn't appear to be grimacing.

Mammon then sat up facing you, without a chance to ask his condition he pulled you to him in a tight hug.

Forgetting that witches were involved, only thinking of how his heart nearly lurched out his throat at the sight of you stepping off, he started shaking without realizing it. "Why? Why would you do something like that?! Do you hate it here so much that you'd rather die?!"

Unable to see his face or know what he was thinking, all you had to go on was the fall and the sound of him choking back sobs. "I.. I don't remember," You admit, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I was in my room, then next thing I knew I was falling in your arms."

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" He cried out, a few sobs escaping his mouth afterwards.

Forcing some space in his hold, you leaned back to look into his deep blue eyes. Instinctively you wiped away one of his tears rolling down his cheek. For longer than you could remember you had feelings for him, but could never get a full grasp of his emotions. For once his eyes and actions reflected how much he cared for and feared the thought of losing you. It hurt knowing how scared he was, but that made you all the more sure if there was ever a time to confess how you felt, it was then. "I love you too much to leave now." You whispered as you leaned in, your forehead against his.

In response to your words he placed his hand on the back of your head to push you into his kiss, it was a unexpected but welcomed surprise. Soaking in his emotions, a real feeling of love came from him. No force to it like lust, or void of emotions like pity. No, his kiss was perfect and reflected the bond you two built over the past few months.

When the kiss ended, his concerned expression was replaced by content. Hugging you to him once more he whispered in your ear. "I protect the things I love most, that includes you... (y/n)."

Epilogue

With help from all the brothers, Mammon found the witch responsible for the bewitching of (y/n). It turned out that a witch was helping the demon assistant steal Mammon's attention away, but the demon hoping to have just a disfiguring curse done to (y/n) was double crossed by the witch.

As it turned out this witch and Mammon held a contract but when he wasn't able to help with her most recent request, she decided to hit him where it hurt; by killing his precious human.

Though Mammon and the witch had a contract, no contract could save her from the brothers ripping her apart.

#obey me #mammon x oc #shall we date mammon #mammon x reader #please go easy on me #first work in years #out of practice #humans also fall like angels

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