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now-im-a-belieber · 3 years

Note

Ooh! Can I request some Liebgott with the prompt “of course it meant something”? Pretty please?

prompt: "of course it meant something."

joe liebgott x reader

a/n: thank you kindly for sending somethin' in luv! idfk what this is but, here have it!

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You weren't sure where they'd found all the booze. But it flowed through the night as the sun left the sky. The company's spirits brightened the inky night and you were delighted to have taken part in the celebration.

The promise of home was about to be made. The practice of polishing guns had been forgotten. And there was nothing to do, truly, besides, enjoy the last bit of time you were left with alongside the men with whom you'd made it this far.

One drink down and a bubbly haze coloured your vision as you admired your friends mucking about the parlour of the cottage you'd all been staying in. By morning you'd all up and leave like you gotten so good at doing. Only this time you'd each be going your separate ways... heading wherever home was.

It should've been more exciting. You should've joined in with everyone listing off their big plans, dreaming up dreams to make true. But you didn't want to think about what was next. You couldn't think of what was just ahead. Maybe that was a terrible habit you'd picked up somewhere back in between foxholes. But the same dread settled in your gut as thoughts of the near future came to mind. You swallowed another drink of liquor and cast your gaze to the company laughing together; sitting just on the outskirts to admire the scene.

Malarkey looked happy. Not as carefree as he had at the start of your knowing him. But far less plagued by darkness than he'd appeared not so long ago. His chuckles set your soul at ease, to know they were genuine.

Lipton looked tired. And you couldn't help but smile. He'd been tired for a while. But he was finally relaxed enough to let it show. You leaned closer to the armchair he'd slumped into and suggested he head to bed, saying he deserved rest more than anyone here.

Skip should've been here. Penkala too. You missed everyone who used to decorate spaces with their smiles and pass time with dumb jokes. And then you realized that very soon you'd miss everyone here just as well. Each man you'd come to know since the start of all this was about to become nothing more than a memory.

The thought ambushed your mission to remain steadfast to the moment. You sucked in a breath in hopes of washing away the dread that only seemed to cast darker shadows over your disposition. It was becoming a struggle to remain ever-present in the party that was in full swing by now.

And in a way, it seemed the party was only just beginning. Luz had made his way to stand on the coffee table, raising a glass to make his fourth toast of the hour- this time, to the sight of Martin carrying another set of bottles into the room. Some cheers and claps followed and the sound of collective mirth only served as a reminder that this was all really over.

"Maybe you're the one who needs some rest, huh?" Lipton's voice resonated in your ear as soon as the feeling of his hand on your shoulder did. And you realized your irrational fears had conjured up a sheen of tears you hadn't yet let fall but clouded your gaze evidently enough.

"I'm just gonna miss you guys is all." You shrugged the shoulder where his hand still rested, and his fingers squeezed tighter at your confession, as some kind of condolence. The lieutenant's gentle manner was interrupted then, by someone with a starkly enigmatic mien.

"Are you cryin'?" Joe asked in his usually distinctive tone, words strung together by drink. You couldn't help but chuckle, at the way he'd asked what he'd asked.

Joe abandoned the half-empty bottle in his grasp on a table just near and moved closer to you with a determination that made your heart skip a beat. Drunk or sober, you'd never been able to help the way you'd felt about Joe. Not to say you'd ever let your feelings so obviously show.

Lipton leaned away from you then, pretending to spark up a conversation with someone passing by. While Joe knelt in front of where you sat, biting back your feelings that were beginning to brew into one big dangerous storm of emotion.

You really couldn't afford to have Joe so close, tonight. You couldn't look right in his eyes, like you wanted. You could only stare at the hand he dared to place on your knee; as he cocked his head to try and see your face you attempted to hide away.

"Don't cry." He suggested through a smile, nearly letting a snicker escape too. This was what caused you to finally look up, to search his face in an attempt to place if he was making jest of your plight, or if he was really just that drunk. The latter seemed true, with the way Joe's eyes blinked slow and searched your own past a vitreous sheen.

"Don't cry." He repeated again in a whisper much more assured. The grin on his face dying away as his eyes stayed glued on yours. Funny, how his command did settle something within you, yet made you want to burst into tears all the same. You'd miss him most of all.

A faint few flashes of the days you'd plan your weekend passes together and the nights you shared beds of dirt flickered in the back of your mind, as you suddenly realized how close Joe was to you now. And like he knew you were thinking of broadening the space between the two of you, he closed it.

The press of Joe's lips against yours was a shock to your system. All your dread and fear halted as you processed what was happening. His kiss was brief and quick but not at all void. You knew it came from a place of well-meaning, somehow, but still; it wasn't right.

When he moved away, opening the space that belonged between the pair of you and kneeling further till his eyes met yours again, you were done for. All those feelings that had been halted by Joe's kind gesture flooded back tenfold and you couldn't hide the rush of tears any longer. You brushed away his hand, stood, and bolted for the nearest exit.

You thought you heard Joe ask you to wait up. You nearly ran into Bull on your dash away, and ignored his worried asking what the matter was.

"Okay, no more drinking," You heard Lipton declare, "It’s everybody's bedtime!" You heard a few chuckles and whines following his announcement just before you'd made it to the hall. You kept up your swift hurry with a hand shielding your tears and only let yourself start to lose it when you reached the room that belonged to you.

This wasn't how things were supposed to end. You were supposed to be glad for new beginnings. But everything you couldn't have seemed to suddenly plague you. Everything you'd tell yourself you'd worry about later, in the midst of the mission after mission; came bubbling up. You cried for one dozen reasons and let yourself keep on till your eyes grew heavy. Maybe by morning, you'd be able to move on, because you had to anyway.

///

You awoke early enough to be the first. Glad for the extra time to stroll toward the waterfront, and breath in some of the fresh morning air.

It was a new day. But it felt the same as so many others. You knew there were only hours left to spare in this chapter of your life. Yet you were still plagued by things that had and had not happened. You were still here.

You looked across the still blue lake and the soft green trees and listened to the dock creek under your feet, as it balanced and bobbed in the water. These were the things that calmed you. These were certainties. The colour of the trees and the rising of the sun. But then there were steps sounding on the dock you hadn't expected, and while it obstructed your state of taking in the scenery, you weren't surprised to be interrupted. You'd come to expect the unexpected over these years.

You turned from the end of the doc to find Joe lingering near the boards secured to the land. He looked vastly different from the night before, more put together, less wasted. He took a step closer as you cast your eyes to his feet, unsure of what to say to him, or how to act. Only a week before and you would've been able to trade chatter about your next mission or duty of the day. But now there was none of that sort of conversation to fall back on. There were only questions you'd never dreamed of asking, but one you knew was about to be addressed.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night." Joe started. You hadn't expected him to apologize. You hadn't even really wanted him too. And the fact that he did was the nail in the coffin that housed your trepidation. You bit your lip and turned away, holding back what you really wanted to say.

But Joe noticed your befuddled expression and apparently wasn't keen to let you sulk in silence. He stepped ever closer, the sound of his strides more assured as he asked what the matter was.

"I said sorry, what more can I do, huh? I didn't mean to upset you, you gotta know that-"

"I always wanted you to kiss me." You blurted, not quite facing him. Not quite meaning to expose your feelings either. But the regret that came after you spoke was distant, as a much stronger emptiness filled your gut. Everything was already over. Might as well have gone on confessing... "Only, you were drunk. So it didn't mean anything. And I'm upset because I wish it did...mean something."

You'd never spoken like this to Joe. You'd only ever traded jokes, or jabs or game plans. And now you were an hour from leaving him behind. This was the last of your knowing each other, and a silence followed your statement that brought back to life the regret you'd only just cast away.

Your heart ached and your eyes stung as you turned to face the water once more, the boards of the dock creaked and the sheer thought of Joe walking away was enough to make you break down. But then his voice called, just over your shoulder, stealing away your sorrows like his closeness had only the night before.

"Of course it meant something." Joe's voice demanded, thick with emotion you'd never heard him display.

When you turned your head and then your shoulders to face Joe and cast him a curious glare, the only way you could ask all the questions jammed in your head at once; he leaned in and kissed you again.

His hands held either side of your face as his lips pressed to yours with all the kind tenderness he'd displayed last night, and a new sort of urgent determination. You wised up to kissing Joe back, and thought of nothing but exactly that for what felt like forever.

He was the one to stop, to pull away and meet your eyes. His hands held your face, still, as his brow furrowed, and a small smile bloomed. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he seemed to take in the rest of your face. You stood entirely mesmerized by the man, like you always had been, only finally letting it show. That's when the sound of distant car doors slamming, and engines roaring to life sounded over the hill and past the trees you'd come out to admire one last time.

"Come on." Joe seemed to decide, letting his hands fall away, till one met yours. "Let's go home."

Joe laced his fingers through yours and led you away from the dock, toward the rest of the company starting to leave. And when thoughts of the future you'd soon be heading into started to flash through your mind, you welcomed them.

#band of brothers #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joe liebgott imagine

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lunatens · 3 years

Text

scaredy cats

requested by bea (🌱✨anon) tysm bby!! i’m sorry this took so long, i made it a lil longer to make up for it :>

prompt: “uh...did the power just go out?”

*part of my 2 years with luna event!

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff, high school au, childhood friends to lovers

pairing: lee chan x gn reader

warnings: there’s a thunderstorm and the power goes out!

[you: channieeeee pls come over~]

[chan: y??]

[you: do u rlly need a reason lmao i just wanna see my bestie]

[chan: it’s raining thoooooo]

[you: so? use an umbrella it ain’t a far walk]

[chan: okok i’ll come hang out]

[chan: i’m gonna kick ur ass at super mario party tho]

[you: in your dreams ;) see u soon bby!!]

slipping your phone into your pocket, you roll off your bed and excitedly rush to your front window, pulling the blinds aside so you can have a better view of the street outside. chan wasn’t kidding, it’s raining alright—heavy torrents of rain pour from the sky, and the clouds look a bit too dark for your liking. you bite your lip guiltily, feeling a little bad that chan’s walking here in this weather. at least he only lives a block over, you think to make yourself feel better.

chan’s been your best friend ever since he accidentally hit you in the face with a frisbee way back when you were just ten years old. your nose started bleeding, and chan panicked and tried to comfort you as he went with you to get cleaned up. even when the school nurse tried to send him back outside, he refused to leave until he knew you were okay. you tease him about this all the time, laughing at how overdramatic he was (”it was just a little nose bleed, chan” “okay but you were crying!!”) but you’re grateful for it, as you probably wouldn’t have become friends otherwise.

you smile to yourself as you think back fondly on the memories of your childhood with chan; it won’t be long till you’re both graduating high school, and it’s hard to believe it’s been so many years since that fateful frisbee incident. you can’t help but nervously wonder what the future will bring for you and chan, but you push those thoughts aside when you see a figure running down the street trying to cover his head as he sprints through the puddles. he slows down as he reaches your house, jogging up to your front door. not even giving him the chance to knock, you open the door for chan and usher him inside quickly.

“it’s a little wet out there,” he comments sarcastically, and a distant clap of thunder echoes through the sky as if to emphasize his point. you quickly shut the door and lock it, as if that’ll do something to keep the storm at bay.

“yeah, no kidding, you’re dripping all over the floor,” you comment. chan pulls of his drenched shoes and opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off before he can start.

“i’ll go get you some dry clothes, stay here so you don’t get the entire house wet,” you tell him as you rush to your room to search for something chan can wear. you find a couple of his sweaters lying around, one he forgot here just last week and the other one from god knows when. you decide to keep the more recent one and give chan the older one along with a pair of your sweatpants and some warm socks.

“here, catch,” you say as you throw the clothes towards chan, who’s now standing in a large puddle in your doorway. he’s caught off guard, and the clothes hit him square in the face.

“hey!!! i come all the way over here through a thunderstorm to see you just because you’re bored, and this is the thanks i get?” chan complains as he makes his way to your room to get changed.

“oh come on, i know you were just as bored as i was,” you tease, and chan can’t help but smile when you call him out.

“you got me,” he responds before slipping into your room and closing the door behind him. you proceed to hook up your nintendo switch to the tv, preparing for a night of video games and maybe a movie or two. as you connect the cables, you hear your bedroom door open and chan’s soft footsteps as he goes to throw his clothes in the dryer. he returns to the living room, flopping onto the couch and grabbing a controller.

“what do you want for dinner? my parents are away for the weekend so there’s frozen pizza or….some sort of leftovers i think?” you ask chan, making your way to the kitchen.

“you’re not gonna cook for me?” chan teases, knowing you sometimes struggle to make toast. you give him a look before digging the pizza out of the freezer. you preheat the oven and place the pizza on a tray.

“don’t forget to take the plastic off!” chan calls from the couch.

“i know, chan,” you say, but you’re glad he reminded you; that was a close one.

two hours and a slightly overcooked frozen pizza later, you and chan are yelling at the screen as your characters pummel each other in a heated round of super smash bros. it’s still heavily raining, but the sounds of the tv drown out the steady drumming on the roof and the increasingly loud and frequent thunder. the two of you hardly notice the flashes of lightning in the now-dark sky as you focus on the tv. you’re just about to smash chan’s character to oblivion when all of a sudden everything is pitch black and a blanket of dead silence washes over the house, save for the rain on the roof.

“uh...did the power just go out?” chan asks, the two of you sitting frozen on the couch. you turn your head to look at him, although there’s really no point--you can’t see anything.

“hm, yeah i think it did,” you say. you’re trying to tease him, but you can’t hide the fear wavering in your voice.

“where are you?” chan asks, voice equally fearful, and you reach out to feel for his outstretched hands in the dark. you find them, and the two of you grab onto each other and pull each other close. the room feels so empty without the bright lights from the tv and the chaotic yelling over the sounds of the game onscreen. now, there’s only the rain, louder than ever, although you swear you can hear your heartbeat out loud.

“i think we have some candles in the basement,” you whisper.

“noooooope, you’re crazy if you think i’m going down there; it’s scary even when the lights are on,” chan replies and you feel him shake his head. “what about that scented candle i gave you for your birthday?”

“ooh, good call! it’s in my room,” you remember. “let’s go,” you say, pulling out your phone to use as a flashlight. lightning outside lights up the room for a moment, and not too long after there’s a loud clap of thunder. both you and chan let out a small shriek, feeling your grips on each other tighten. now, is your heart beating from fear of the dark and stormy night? or from the way chan holds onto you for dear life? probably a mix of both, but you choose not to think about that right now.

“ok we’ll go on three, ready?” you say, waiting for chan’s response. you’re met with silence. “chan?”

“oh sorry, i forgot you can’t see me nodding. on three,” he confirms

“okay, one, two...three!” you count. on three, you pull chan off the couch and the two of you race hand in hand to your bedroom, guided by the bright light of your phone flashlight. you hesitantly let go of chan’s hand as you search for your candle and some matches. it doesn’t take too long to find them, and soon enough a flickering orange flame casts a faint flow around your room. you and chan climb onto your bed, you sitting up against the headboard and chan lying with his head in your lap. there’s enough light that you can now see each other’s silhouettes at least, and you look down to watch as the flame casts shadows that seem to dance across chan’s face. when did he grow up so much? you find yourself thinking, feeling like it was just yesterday the two of you were a couple of snot-nosed kids running around at recess. your fingers absentmindedly play with his hair as you’re lost in thought.

“this is kind of spooky, we should tell ghost stories!” chan suggests.

“or we could just talk and not scare ourselves into staying awake all night,” you reply.

“good idea,” he agrees, but neither of you say anything. you lie there in silence for a moment; the rain sounds a bit less violent from inside your room, and now that you can see a bit you find it’s quite a peaceful sound.

“mingyu asked me out today,” you tell chan. you’re not quite sure what possessed you to just tell him that out of the blue; you weren’t even planning on telling chan at all, but now you’ve gone and said it and you can’t take it back.

“really?? that’s great, y/n! when’s the date?”

you’re a bit disheartened at chan’s reaction; he seems genuinely excited for you, unless the shock is just masking his true feelings for now,

“i said no.”

“what?? why??? i thought you liked him?” chan sits up at this, his head now even with yours as he looks at you in shock.

“not anymore,” you say with a shrug. your voice is quiet, unsure of where this conversation will head.

“oh,” is all chan says. “is there...any particular reason?” he asks after a beat of silence. there’s something more in his voice now that wasn’t there before.

“i just don’t think he’s really my type,” you explain without elaborating.

“well, what is your type if not mingyu? he’s kind, smart, beautiful, tall...he’s got it all! i mean, you’ve had a crush on him for like, a year, and he finally asked you out and you said no?” chan says in mild disbelief.

“don’t get me wrong, mingyu’s a great guy and all, but i just-i think i realized i have feelings for someone else,” you say, voice trailing off to barely a whisper.

“really?? who is it?” chan asks all-too-eagerly, and you start to feel doubtful he likes you back.

“it’s no one.”

“awe y/n, don’t be like that! at least give me hints?” chan asks.

“fine,” you sigh, knowing he won’t leave it alone. “first of all, he’s annoying and loud,”

“that doesn’t sound like a crus-”

“do you want me to give you hints or not?”

“...yes please,”

“ok then shh. he’s annoying and loud, but it’s perfect because i am too so we get along really well. he’s also the most caring person i’ve ever met; i know he’d do anything for me if i asked him,” you continue, not sure how much you want to give away.

“wow, he sounds really great!” chan comments. to any other person, he’d sound excited for you, but you know him well enough to pick up on the slight disappointment in his voice, and it’s just the boost you need to keep going.

“he is; he’d even go out in a thunderstorm for me just because i said i’m bored,” you say and you turn to look at chan now. it’s too dark to read his expression, but you can see how he leans ever so closer to you.

“now that’s some dedication, i mean he sounds flawless,” chan teases. you can hear the smile in his voice, which makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

“the only problem is i’m not sure if he likes me back,” you whisper, your nose brushing the tip of chan’s, and before you know it his lips are on yours in a passionate yet gentle kiss. how you’ve gone so long without kissing chan you don’t know; the years of secret feelings all finally set free in this one kiss.

you didn’t lie about liking mingyu--you had actually thought you might’ve finally gotten over your feelings for chan and found someone else. for a couple of months it worked, and you found yourself distracted with thoughts of the tall boy instead of your best friend. but it all came crashing down when you caught the common cold the other week, and chan looked after you while you were sick--he even skipped class one day to make sure you weren’t lonely. all of your true feelings came rushing back to you, and you knew there were no hopes of losing them.

“what about now?” chan asks as he pulls away just enough to talk.

“i’m still not sure, he might have to kiss me again to convince me,” you say, unable to contain your smile. chan kisses you again, and it’s just as magical as the first time. a loud crack of thunder startles you, and you gasp as you latch onto chan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“you’re such a scaredy-cat,” he says, bringing his arms up to pull you closer.

“shut up so are you, i can hear your heart racing,” your voice is muffled by his sweater.

“maybe that’s just because of you,” he comments, stroking your hair.

“ew,” you reply, but your heart’s not in it; you can pretend to hate how cheesy chan is all you want, but internally you love it just as much as you love every other aspect of him.

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missmorosis · 3 years

Text

Day at the Carnival

hi yall~ this is a request from my love @urmomoness omg DUDE I LOVE YOU

I’m so so so sorry this took like a week to do, it was honestly so so weird- I’m gross at flirting and honestly I hate how this turned out IM SO SORRY

also hehe excited for this fic exchange thingy we set up 😌

urmomoness asked:

okay from the prompt thing in your masterlist

hear me out hear me out

sokka x reader,,,, #1 & #11 from the fluff stuff

#1: “Go with me?” “As long as you hold my hand.”

#11: “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

This is suuchhhhh a cute combo and I feel like I didn’t do it any justice AHHHH!! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!

Pairing: Sokka x reader (my fav pairing omg)

Warnings: None :)

Word Count: 1k!

Summary: Sokka and the reader spend a day at the carnival together!

*Set sometime in the future where covid is over!! Stay safe everyone!

Y/N was tired of staying home all the time. When quarantine ended, the first thing she wanted to do was something fun and social, so when she saw an Instagram post for a carnival later that week, she knew that she had to go. She called a “family meeting,” and everyone met in the middle of the living room, waiting for what Y/N had to say. Katara and Sokka made their way over to the couch, plopping down with some snacks in their hands, whereas Aang, Toph, and Zuko sat down onto the carpeted floor.

“OKAY. So, y’all know how we haven’t done anything outside our home for a while, right?” Everyone nodded. “Guess what I found.” She eagerly whipped out her phone and scrolled to the carnival advertisement post.

“It can be something fun for us to do together! Please?” She looked at everyone. “Go with me?”

“Only if you hold my hand,” Sokka wiggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Sure, it’ll be fun!” Katara and Aang began scheduling it onto their phones’ calendars, and Zuko nodded, signaling his approval.

“Why not?” Toph shrugged. Y/N clapped her hands in excitement. They were going to the carnival!

✧･ﾟ: *✧

Everyone stood outside the bustling carnival, unsure where to start. Sokka grabbed Y/N’s hand instantly and gravitated towards the food, dragging Y/N along. Aang and Zuko headed to the Hall of Mirrors, whereas Toph and Katara dispersed from the group to take funny photos of each other in the photo booth.

“Ooh, funnel cakes! Y/N look! Cotton candy!” Sokka jumped at the sight of all of the food the carnival offered. “Hot dogs!” Sokka grabbed two hot dogs, handing one to Y/N. “Sorry, I guess you only need the sausage, since you already got them buns.” He winked, and Y/N groaned. “I’m just joking!” He put his hands up in surrender, and Y/N slapped his arm in response.

By the end of a short 10-minute walk, Sokka and Y/N were full of sweet carnival treats, and Sokka’s eyes lit up once again as soon as he saw the carnival games.

“I need to get you a teddy bear!” He eagerly pulled her arm, making her laugh. “Come on!” He led her to a bright red and yellow booth. “Ring toss!”

“You know those things are rigged, right? There’s no way you’re going to win.” She rolled her eyes, but Sokka shook his head.

“What kind of carnival date would this be if the boyfriend didn’t get the girlfriend the classic carnival teddy bear?” He gave her a goofy grin as he walked up to the man running the ring toss game.

“One try please.” He spoke in that “Wang Fire” voice that Y/N always found hilarious, and this time was no exception. She giggled as he tried his best to toss the ring onto one of the pins. Squinting in focus, Sokka threw as accurately as he could, and surprisingly, it landed smack onto the middle pin. Y/N’s mouth swung open. Sokka gave her a quick “I told you I could do it” look before turning back to the man.

“Congratulations, choose your prize!” The man gestured to the rows of prizes, and Sokka picked out a blue teddy bear. He grabbed it in his hands and handed it to her.

“See, you were wrooong,” he sang in a sing-song voice, smiling. “What are you gonna name it?” His face lit up. “OH OH, NAME IT SOKKA JR.”

“No way.” She shook her head, laughing.

“Please? I got it for you,” he pouted.

“Nope. I’m naming it… Katara Jr.” He gasped, offended.

“KATARA JR?!? Come on, I’m at least better than Katara,” he argued.

“Are you sure about that?�� She grinned at his insulted facial expression.

She would never tell him, but she knew that Sokka Jr. was the perfect name. She would treasure it forever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

The sun was now setting in the sky, the sky darkening with streaks of pink and orange. It was the perfect setting to end the day. Everyone was full, happy, and ready to get back home, but they agreed to get one Ferris wheel ride together.

“One ticket per person, please.” The woman running the Ferris wheel held her hand out to collect the tickets.

Looking to Y/N, Sokka turned and whispered, “You don’t need a ticket to ride me!” Y/N ignored him and instead placed two tickets in the lady’s palm; one for her and one for Sokka. The woman let them in, and the two sat down in the Ferris wheel basket. They slowly moved up, and they heard the rest of their friends (except for Toph, who stayed behind) get into the basket behind them. They went higher and higher, watching the sunset together.

“You know, this is really beautiful. And I’m not talking about the sunset.” His voice broke the silence, loud enough for Y/N to hear, but not enough for the others to know what he was saying.

“Are- are you flirting with me?” She looked at him.

“You finally noticed?” Sokka kept his eyes trained on Y/N’s face, making Y/N blush. She had noticed, but she didn’t make much of it at the time. Here, it felt… different.

“Can… can I kiss you?”

“I’ve been waiting all day.” He gently leaned in to give her a soft kiss on the lips, and Y/N ate it up. As soon as he let go, she leaned in once again, longing for another kiss, and Sokka of course accepted. Behind them, someone groaned. Y/N whipped her head back to see Aang, Katara, and Zuko watching them. Y/N buried her hands in her sleeves out of embarrassment, but Sokka brought her back out, his finger pulling out her chin.

“Who cares?” He kissed her again, and again, laughing against her lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧

After they got home, Y/N plopped onto the bed, her body sighing at the cold sheets beneath her. She carefully set Sokka Jr. next to her and kissed the teddy bear goodnight before heading off to bed herself.

She had a great time at the carnival.

hello and welcome to today’s edition of i hate it i hate it i hate it! :D

N E WAYS i hope you enjoyed (somewhat) annndd ILY!!

surprisingly i have a tag list now!! send an ask to join! taglist: @zuko-is-the-sun @urmomoness hehehe i love you guys :)

feel free to send me more requests!! rules are in my blog navigation!

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka imagine #sokka #atla #atla imagine #atla x you #atla x y/n #atla x reader #sokka x yn

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hawkeish · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Interview

Thanks for tagging me @oxygenforthewicked! <3 Beneath The Veilfire is bloody fantastic and you should all go and read it, especially solavellan fans!

Name: hawkeish (here and on ao3)

Fandoms: Dragon Age

Where you post: here and on ao3

Most Popular One-shot: Fool’s Errand, the first Blackwall/Lavellan thing I wrote - which is wild, because it’s a pretty rare pair and I wasn’t expecting anyone to read it, let alone like it!

Most Popular Multichap: this is how the light gets in (although it’s only 2 chapters - does that count?). basically, Hawke and Anders sleep together, and Hawke’s terrible at feelings, and they’re both sweet idiots.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: I have a few favourites! I love La vie en rose - it was a dream to write, I’m weak for a modern au, and as an ex-barista it was pretty cathartic. I also love my Carver/Merrill fics, particularly and she said honey, take me dancing. basically, I’m a hopeless romantic.

Fic you were nervous to post: do all of them count? probably Go On Home, though - it was the first time I’d written Carver’s voice, and I was so worried about infantilising Merrill instead of writing her as she actually is, someone capable, clever, actively kind, and complex. but I think it went OK?

How do you choose your titles: I’m a sucker for song lyrics as titles. I think every single one has been a lyric so far, apart from the OTPtober stuff I wrote? I’m very basic, I know.

Do you outline: NOPE. I bulletpoint where I want to go when I reach a sticky point in a fic, though - either in my notes app or right in the middle of a paragraph or sentence a lot of the time. my zero-drafts are horrific to look at. they are crimes against god.

Complete: eleven! all of them are one-shots (pretty much) though, because I’m terrible at plot. my multi-chap fic about teenage Hawke & Anders getting up to shenanigans will be finished (and probably revised) next year, though, hopefully!

In progress: a frankly ridiculous amount, but the main ones are a follow-up to La vie en rose, a miserable post-da2 fic about a handers relationship breakdown, and a couple of prompts for the DA Drunk Writing Circle, ‘cause they were too tempting and I can’t wait till Fridays!

Prompts?: I LOVE PROMPTS SO MUCH. my imagination constantly gets stuck in a rut, so prompts are my go-to. plus I love writing stuff for people, so I’m always open to prompts - send me fun ideas and I might write them as part of DA DWC...

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: it’s very much an idea atm, but the very lovely and EXTREMELY talented @veorlian suggested a collab and the words ‘Carver/Merrill’, ‘commander’ and ‘arcane advisor’ were raised. make of that what you will x

Worlds I would love to write for in the future: ooh, I don’t know? Maybe AC Valhalla, mainly to process my MANY FEELINGS ABOUT WHAT THEY DID TO MY SWEET SON BOY CEOLBERT WHOM I LOVE (Ubisoft honestly it’s been nearly two weeks since I finished Shropshire and I’m not over it)

tagging @pinkfadespirit, @fandomn00blr, @kirkwallgremlin, @mrs-theirin, @hollyand-writes, and @noswordstyle - although any other writers, sorry if I’ve missed you and please feel free to do this too!

#ish writes #writing tag #valhalla spoilers #(covering all bases)#thanks for the tag again <3 #long post #absolutely no pressure to do this as always!#also christ my phone autocorrecting the title of oxygen's fic #sorry!!

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lokidiabolus · 4 years

Text

The Deal - Chapter 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (web series)

Pairing: Alastor / Angel Dust

Warnings: human!Angel Dust (Anthony), Deal with a devil AU

Summary: Sometimes you had nobody to spend the Christmas with. Sometimes you didn’t want to. Sometimes you took a chalk and drew a pentagram on the floor fully ready to deal with anything that would come out as an alternative to self-pity occurring otherwise.

The time when Anthony thought if he can’t get anybody to love him properly, he can just make a deal with a devil and find out what affection feels like. Alastor thinks this mortal is pitiful beyond belief and concede. Cuddles happen.

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I think Cajun Alastor is wonderful but for the love of god I can't write that shit, so I apologize in advance. Please pretend it's readable.

Unbetad!

2020, January 16th

“Mamaaa, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he’s dead~.”

Alastor raised his head from a book he snatched from Anthony’s poor excuse of a collection and narrowed his eyes. Anthony could see him in the corner of his eye, even though the demon excused himself to the living room because Anthony insisted on playing his music and not Alastor’s radio, and he couldn’t help it was Nicki Minaj for the first three songs. He even put it on shuffle too!

I’ve already died once, don’t need to repeat the experience, Alastor rudely scoffed at Anthony’s phone and left the room, even though he was bragging just night before he’d totally help with cooking. He didn’t even touch the knife before storming out rather than listen to anything modern.

“Mama, life had just begun, but now I've gone and thrown it all away. Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry~,” Anthony singsonged with the melody while grating cheese and could literally feel Alastor’s eyes stabbing the back of his head. Probably not a fan of Queen either.

“If I'm not back again this time tomorrow, carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters~,” he twirled around the counter to get plates out of cupboard, “Too late, my time has come, sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time. Goodbye everybody, I've got to go, gotta leave you all behind and face the truth~.”

He made a pirouette and his voice skipped an octave when he almost crashed into Alastor suddenly standing in front of him, right in Anthony’s personal bubble, just looming (which was strange he could, since he was half a head shorter than Anthony, yet it couldn’t be described otherwise). He didn’t say anything, just watched Anthony handle the plates clumsily until the human finally managed to put them on the counter without incident.

“See something you like?” Anthony batted his eyelashes while making a pose with pursed lips and Alastor looked him up and down and smirked:

“Not really.”

“Ouch.”

“What is this song about?” the demon ignored him and nodded towards the phone in the middle of Bohemian Rhapsody, surprisingly sounding curious instead of displeased like before (but alright, it was fair of him to be put off when Anaconda was the first thing he heard, Anthony didn’t blame him).

“Don’t have Freddie in hell?” Anthony chuckled and returned back to filling the plates with Carbonara. It wasn’t like he wanted to fall into an Italian household stereotype but Alastor seemed to like Italian cuisine and it was something Anthony was confident in anyway. Also the praise was always a pretty nice bonus and Anthony might have been fishing for it a little bit.

“Not that I know of,” Alastor hummed. “So what is it about? Murder?”

“I mean… I guess? Sorta?” Anthony shrugged and pushed a plate of steaming food into Alastor’s hands, then gestured towards the table. “Should be about a man who accidentally killed somebody and then sold his soul to the devil.”

“How intriguing!” Of course Alastor would like that topic, grinning like a loon. “You knew the lyrics by heart.”

“It’s a famous song,” Anthony stuck out his tongue. “Everybody knows the lyrics. It’s like an anthem, ya know. Great song.”

“Likeable,” the demon admitted and sat at the table while Anthony handed him a fork and a spoon. “Thank you, dear. Looks splendid as always.”

“I try,” Anthony beamed while sitting down as well. “Oh. Actually, what if I killed somebody too, like, in the future-,”

“Now that would be an adventure, would it not?” Alastor interrupted him with even a wider smile, while the invisible audience cheered, like the idea of murder appealed to him. Why wouldn’t it, as a demon of course he wouldn’t go ew, don’t.

“I’m too pretty for jail, ya know,” Anthony gave him an unamused glare. Alastor hummed in agreement and started eating, his eyes lighting up happily. For a hell person he sure was such a foodie.

“Aww, so you think I’m pretty?” Anthony cooed at him and Alastor glared. It was a thing with this guy – he handled flirtations very badly. Either he got angry or super frustrated, and the latter was honestly so adorable Anthony risked the wrath too often for his own good. “So, what do you like about me?”

“When you don’t talk.” Came a curt reply and Anthony snorted and let him get off the hook.

“What I meant was – what if I killed somebody but didn’t want to go to jail. And wanted to make a deal with you about keeping me safe from them? Would it work?”

“Why wouldn’t it work?” Alastor glanced at him from the food. “Safety is nothing difficult to achieve.”

“I mean,” Anthony leaned against his palm. “We already made a deal. Can you make two deals with the same person?”

“I can make as many deals as I want with the same person,” Alastor answered while twirling his fork in spaghetti. “Why would you think I could not?”

“Not that ya couldn’t but… more like it’s not worth it for ya anymore, right?” Anthony suggested and it seemed like he made an interesting point, since Alastor stopped eating to fully concentrate on the problem. “As in, ya already have my soul-,”

“Heart.”

“And undying love, of course,” Anthony winked at him, earning an eyeroll. Fair. “But another deal would not give ya anything else. Ya already have what ya wanted.”

“Oh, indeed,” the demon nodded thoughtfully. “Obviously true. It depends on the individual. Some demons can take years off the remaining life of the mortal, or actually only state the remaining years for their service, then come collect the life once the time is up.”

“Like they give ya an amazing painting skill, but you have… ten years to live and enjoy the fame?” Anthony prompted and Alastor nodded in agreement. “That sounds… pretty rough. Why would anybody take that?”

“Why would anybody do anything? Mortals are greedy. They want to be acknowledged. Or they fight sheer, absolute boredom and want to elevate it by any means necessary,” the demon tapped his claws against the table in quick staccato. “You think it is not worth it?”

“I mean maybe when I’m fifty, sure, ten years sounds fine,” Anthony shrugged. “But ten years from now? I guess I’d be bummed.”

“Maybe you are not thinking big enough,” Alastor gave him a wide smile. “Not all demons take remaining life force though. Everybody has different methods if necessary. Though the heart is usually a priority.”

“Not for everybody though?”

“Some don’t want underlings,” the demon opposed. “Some only work for Hell itself and don’t take anything, only assure the soul will belong to Hell once the mortal die. Some actually feed on the life force of humans. Hell is having all kind of horrors you can think of, you see.”

“At least yer a daydream,” Anthony winked and Alastor’s smile twitched. Easy. “Building your own harem down there, ya kinky bastard.”

“And here I thought we’re having a meaningful conversation,” the demon sighed and returned to the food, which made Anthony snicker.

“I mean… what do I know, it could be,” he teased him. “What else would ya need some poor bastard’s hearts to do your bidding?”

“To tell them when they need to close their pretty mouths shut if they want to keep them,” Alastor smiled at him sweetly, his crimson eyes shining, and alright, okay, threats on Thursday evening were a thing now. Anthony imitated a zipper on his mouth and quieted down, but still, it was kind of hilarious. Maybe a week ago he’d still be afraid of Alastor pouncing at over the table and slashing his throat but now it was more like no talk, I’m angy sort of meme.

The silence didn’t last very long when Alastor set the fork down and looked at Anthony with curiosity.

“You are full of vigour today,” he observed. “Something good happened? You seem to be in jolly mood.”

“Just glad ya could make it,” Anthony grinned. Alastor became very reliable when it came to the dinner dates and weekend plans after the New Year’s fiasco, never missed one when he promised to come. They found a certain rhythm in the cohabitation and Anthony got used to his presence maybe a little too fast. The man was an enigma with the way he behaved – they slept huddled together no problem, Alastor could be super clingy when he wanted to (rarely though, usually more like only when somehow too tired), but once they were out of the bedroom, any contact was met with stiffness or a five foot rule. The latter became a thing about a week after New Year’s thanks to Anthony’s inability to keep his hands to himself when it came to Alastor’s fluffiness. The hair, the ears and the tail that wagged when he liked something enough, which obviously couldn’t leave Anthony calm, right? A damn cute fluffy wagging tail just… there, for touching.

Well, Alastor wasn’t amused, not by a long shot. The moment Anthony gathered enough courage and touched the thing, the edge of Alastor’s microphone was pushing against his chest to keep him away, and he would have sworn there were creepy symbols flying all around the demon’s head like he was ready to let Anthony get swallowed by some Eldritch monster. Therefore five foot rule became a thing unless it was Alastor who initiated the touch – which was another weird thing about the man. He had no respect for personal space whatsoever, like at all, when he wanted to point out something, make a statement or just felt like it, but once somebody else breached his personal bubble, he bristled like a cat with murderous intent. So Anthony kept his hands to himself but started flirting. Honestly kind of expected a five words rule to happen at some point, but until then he just wanted to have his fun.

“I see,” Alastor watched him carefully and then picked the fork again. “And here I thought you won a lottery or maybe fell in love.”

“Yer the only love of my life, don’t ya worry,” Anthony winked because he could and Alastor let out a sigh that honestly didn’t even sound that fed up, more like just out of habit. “But like. It’s kinda convenient. If somebody confessed to me, that is.”

“Oh?” Alastor’s eyes were sharp.

“My heart belongs to another!” Anthony stated dramatically and then let out a small laugh. “Not even lying? Like. My heart is taken, literally, by the deal we made, it would be like an ultimate move.”

The demon seemed to ponder it, then said nothing. Probably didn’t want to rain on Anthony’s parade on shutting him down needlessly. Naturally, Anthony didn’t think any romance was possible, or even vaguely interesting for the demon, so all his jabs were good-natured but without seriousness.

Or almost all of them. He would be lying if he didn’t admit at least to himself he liked Alastor as a person, not only as a convenient body pillow with Bambi tail he didn’t even let him touch. But such thoughts were private, and he kept them hidden and locked inside of his mind. He learned well enough not to hope to protect himself, and the only relationship there could be was a master and an underling – eventually. Once Anthony die.

Though… who knew when he was going to die. Was Alastor willing to do this his whole life? What if he was going to live to 80? Was he going to cuddle with him and eat dinners every three days in a week for 49 years?

But then again… what is time for a demon? He didn’t even know how old Alastor was. By appearance he’d say maybe around Anthony’s age, but then again, he was never half deer so… could be different. Did deer age count the same as dogs?

“If you ever needed an excuse for that kind of thing,” Alastor suddenly spoke, his voice staticky as always, a weirdly comforting noise lately. “I would recommend saying your husband has a wide collection of knives. It usually scares people away.”

“Pfff.” Husband. “Would need a ring for that, ya know.”

“Mhm,” the demon hummed, not adding anything else. Seriously. He just kept leaving so many openings, there was no way Anthony would not use those when he had a chance.

“So how many knives you have, husband?” he sent him a bright smile and Alastor carefully twirled carbonara on his fork before putting it to his mouth primly, chewed and then gulped down, as a show of how not amusing the jab was, Anthony thought.

Then, after another moment: “About twelve.”

Anthony made a croaking noise and completely missed a smile Alastor hid with another bite of food.

***

“Anthony.”

“Mmmm?”

The clock showed 1 in the morning and Anthony couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he cuddled Alastor under the blanket. He tossed and turned and Alastor had to pull him back to him about ten times, but sleep eluded them both, even with the white noise of Alastor’s static floating around that usually lulled Anthony well enough.

“Can you play the murder song again,” Alastor requested from under Anthony’s weight, sprawled around the middle of the bed.

“Hah, sure,” the human reached for his phone resting on the nightstand and almost blinded himself when the display lit up. He clicked few times until Bohemian Rhapsody broke the silence of the otherwise quiet flat before returning back to lie on top of his demon.

“Sing with it too?” another request and Anthony prompted his chin on Alastor’s chest.

“Can’t sleep either?”

“You keep tossing and turning,” Alastor said simply. “Not me. Sing?”

Anthony raised an eyebrow, but there was no reasoning for the request, so he just softly sang along with the music, looking at Alastor with half lidded eyes until he couldn’t hold them open anymore. The song eventually ended, and Anthony finally felt sleep tugging on his consciousness like he just performed a lullaby that worked a bit too well.

“You asked about more deals for one person before,” he distantly felt a hand going through his hair and only hummed. “For you, my dear, I would close more deals if you ever asked me.”

“Aww,” he chuckled sleepily, his arms circling Alastor’s torso with possessiveness.

“The happier you are,” he heard, “the better your psyche becomes. The stronger the demon you’d be down there.”

“Boo, how cold,” Anthony pouted. “And here I thought ya actually liked me, at least a little.”

“You are… tolerable.” Anthony missed the small smile playing on Alastor’s lips, his face buried in the man’s red shirt. “But I am a professional, you see.”

“A professional dealmaker,” he yawned.

“Quite so.”

“Ya have that in your resume too?” Anthony couldn’t stop the tease. “Ya know, next to professional cuddler?”

“Probably as much as you have an immense tease in yours,” the demon uttered and his voice was thundering in his chest, which was weird, because it sounded like a completely different person without the static echo. Anthony liked it though.

“Sure, but also a good cook,” the human chuckled, “and a quality wife, ya see.”

A hum, then silence. Anthony considered the conversation closed, until Alastor spoke again softly: “There are always ways to get something in return for another deal, beside the servitude or life force.”

“Mmmlikewhat.”

“Why don’t you find out yourself?”

And with that Anthony fell asleep before any kind of dirty joke could come out.

***

2020, January 17th

It stayed in his head the whole next day. He kept thinking about it at home when getting ready to go out, then at work when taking orders and wondered, if a favourite dish made for dinner would be a possible kind of payment for the deal in Alastor’s book. What a demon like him could possibly want beside the heart he already got? He knew Alastor enjoyed good food, but was that actually something that could be exchanged for a supernatural request?

Or was it something kinky, like that in hell the only title Anthony would be able to use when talking to him would be Master? Or My Lord? Anthony could see himself do that, sure, though only in a joke to rile him up a little.

Funny how any fear of the guy went down the drain after the Bambi revelation, no matter how scary Alastor tried to be sometimes.

“Love, this is the third time you messed up an order, are you okay?” his colleague patted his shoulder and he blinked at her in confusion.

“Oh shit, did I?” he realized, after a long loading screen in his brain completed, what she just said and snapped back to reality where the demon in red didn’t bat his eyelashes at him. Not that he ever did. But he could dream. “I’m so sorry, my mind is in a gutter.”

“Yeah, can see that,” the girl patted his arm this time. He wasn’t sure why she was so touchy-feely all of sudden, but didn’t comment on it. “Something on your mind?”

“Weekend plans,” he shrugged and well, he wasn’t even lying, really. This was their weekend together and since Alastor didn’t mention any kind of obstacle in attending, it was Anthony’s turn to think of something to do. The forecast looked glum though, so going outside was probably not the best choice of outing, unless it would be short, so indoors activity sounded a little more satisfying. Maybe they could order some good food home, rather than cook this time. Or drink. Oooh, they could actually drink! He wondered if Alastor even liked alcohol.

“Man, Tony, are you in love or something?” the girl sighed, snapping her fingers in front of him. “You keep spacing out!”

“Well,” he glanced at her with a grin. “My heart has definitely been taken-,”

“In which gangbang this time?” another colleague cut in, smiling at him with fake sweetness while putting empty glasses in the sink with a loud thud. He didn’t even see her coming. “Did they pay you enough to buy you completely? Or just a quickie outside like always?”

Ouch.

“Don’t be salty just because nobody would fuck you even for free,” he cocked his hips. “Heard duster is good for cobwebs though.”

“Whatever you say, slut,” she made a face at him. “I’m not being the one spreading STD.”

“Good at spreading bullshit though,” he shot back, making her give him an uptight smile and a smack of her ponytail when she dramatically turned away and left for the kitchen. He decided not to comment on that and was kind of glad the other girl kept her mouth shut too.

Obviously, everybody at work knew about the New Year’s and his fall from grace – though that would indicate there was grace to begin with, which honestly was not. Maybe he should start looking for another job with how bleak things looked in this pub. The whole week after New Year’s random guys kept making pass at him even in his regular waiter clothes, like somebody just decided to advertise the pub as fuck-to-go eatery and it made his skin itch, especially when some of them were more handsy than others and didn’t understand no sent their way. A slap on his butt there, a grope here, hey cutie called from another table, and the girls he worked with either glared at him or had nasty remarks he should have already been able to deflect, but sometimes he just could not. He wasn’t made of sugar, some bad words and pointed fingers didn’t make him cry, but they didn’t add to good mood either.

He was always relieved if that evening Al showed up and took his worries away with the well-known staticky voice and invisible audience cheering at some of his bad dad jokes. Honestly, he had lots of bad dad jokes it was almost unreal, and the saddest thing was he unironically liked them while Anthony groaned every time he told some. He was just glad so far Alastor didn’t use those cringe worthy abominations against the flirting, because that would definitely shut Anthony down fast.

There were still four hours to his shift and for the first time since he knew Alastor he regretted the demon didn’t have a phone, so he could hear his voice while he locked himself in the bathroom stall with knees under his chin and quivering lip.

***

Anthony still didn’t know what to do over the weekend. It felt like he should have a plan, like there should be a diary or something, with post-it notes and differently coloured entries, but all he could do when he got back home was to sag down in the living room like a bag of potatoes on the couch and open a bottle of tequila. No limes, no salt, just the bottle and big gulps of it. He chugged it several times until the annoying tightness in his chest slowly eased off, until he could breathe normally and the bitter words he heard every time he turned his back towards the bar dissolved in burning taste of alcohol.

Who cared. People were mean and greedy, and he was broken and rotten to the core. Those things usually never combined well together, and he was a living proof. When was the last time he even had a friend? When did somebody expressed concern for him? Damn, when even was the last time somebody held his hair when he threw up?

Self-centred bitch. Show-off. Attention seeker. Dirty slut. A whore.

All fun and smiles and oh, I will do your make up, sweetie, oh, let me do your hair, honey, oh, this costume looks so cute on you, and oh, was it just a quickie outside or you fucked the whole train station? Did he just give you a ride home or you sucked his dick for it? Oh, new shoes? Which sugar daddy’s money was it today?

“Nobody’s fuckin’ money!” he yelled at nothing, swinging the almost empty bottle of tequila around. “None of yer fuckin’ business!”

Maybe we should do next costume event BDSM themed, our little darling angel Tony would love to lick somebody’s boots again.

“Fuck off!” A loud shattering noise when the bottle hit the wall felt like his sanity was breaking to pieces. “Just leave me the fuck alone…”

His brain was so hazed he barely registered arms circling around him, pulling him into a hug. He was swayed from side to side with a soft, crooning noise above him, and thought damn, how bad is it I even hallucinate? Up until he finally focused enough to realize he was engulfed with blackness without any real warmth, just suddenly there, holding him.

“Oh…” he chuckled pathetically. “It’s you.”

The Shadow nuzzled his face but didn’t say anything, just continued to hold him. Frankly, Anthony had no idea what day it was, even what time or where exactly he ended up, if he moved at all, if Alastor was supposed to come but couldn’t make it, so he sent Junior instead, or if this was some kind of weird, alcohol induced vision of much needed comfort.

“Whacha do’n her’, big boy?” The words were slurring together, the alcohol was doing its magic. “Al’s busy busy busy?”

Another nuzzle. Was that a touch therapy? Nobody touched him so readily before. Not even Al who cuddled him at night, but usually touched him only in two prime locations – his waist and around neck and head for pats, but otherwise kept his hands to himself. The Shadow on the other hand just pawed at him pretty much like a big dog wanting to rub all over and Anthony blearily wondered how a man and his shadow could be so different.

“Th’re, t’re,” he patted the Shadow’s head, a strange ghost-like tingling going through his hand. “Ar’ ya sad too?”

The hold remained and the dark tendrils from the shade were covering half of the couch like an expensive Persian rug. That mental image made Anthony bark out a drunken laugh. Could somebody’s shadow be sad? It was clinging to him like a lifeline and Anthony felt the tequila churning in his belly as if it were trying to burn its way through.

“Ah,” he finally realized what the shadow was doing. “Yer tryin’ t’ comf’rt me.”

A hum, clearly agreeing. It made Anthony relax into the hold, feeling a little like floating and not sitting on his tequila-stained couch, and yeah, it was relaxing, it was nice, it was… different.

“Wond’r how Al’s hugs ar’,” he sighed then giggled stupidly. “Prob’ly warm an’ nice. D’es he ev’n hug pe’ple?”

Maybe he did hug people. Just different people. Not Anthony, at least. Touching only when necessary. Maybe he could make a deal about hugging, Al said more deals are possible. Maybe he could ask for one hug a week or something, like one full body hug and then wait for seven days for Al to get his barriers back… or whatever he had. Human contact aversion, probably. He just wasn’t sure what to give in return. Being a personal cook? Not flirting at any point ever again?

Would Al even want shit like that? Or would he want some of his life force? Years off his back? He would give them… for Alastor. If he wanted his life force, Anthony wouldn’t mind if it was him. His life was not worth much anyway.

Would Alastor want something as rotten as his life energy though? Sure, he wanted his heart at least, but it just meant to have a servant later on, nothing he would feed himself with.

Unless he ate his servants. That would kinda suck.

“I k’nda like ‘im, y’kno,” he confessed quietly, slowly slipping lower in the hold. The anger he felt was already gone, now the tequila tried to pull at melancholy, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t need to be sad over the fact the only person at least vaguely resembling affectionate concern was a demon from hell that got paid with his soul and heart for acting out of his character three times a week. “Path’tic me, huh.”

Nuzzling ensued. He liked Al’s shadow. He was like a big animal soaking up bad vibes and making Anthony calmer.

“Wish I c’n talk to ‘im when I feel sad,” he mumbled to himself and barely registered the shadow pulled them both down to the cushions. “’s he French? He sounded French ‘nce…”

“Cajun,” rang through the room and Anthony attempted to focus, but his vision kept on blurring. Maybe he drank too much after all. “Louisiana.”

“Bayou boy?” he giggled anyway. “That’s cute.”

“You drank too much, cher,” rang through the room again and then another sigh came, and radio static buzzed to life. “And you. I was wondering where you slithered to.”

There was a rumble from under Anthony and he felt the force supporting him up to now disappearing until he only felt the couch around him and nothing else. He blinked in confusion before his vision cleared enough to realize all the darkness around him was gone, but legs clothed in red were standing next to him instead. They definitely weren’t there prior to his meltdown, he remembered as much.

He rubbed his eyes and attempted to look up before it finally dawned on him that this was Alastor standing here, flesh and bone and he didn’t even need to get all the way up to his face.

“Look at you,” the voice sounded a little exasperated and human. There was no static whatsoever. “Dat’s da second time you did somethin’ like dis.”

“Hi, Al,” Anthony tried sheepishly, and a clawed hand pushed him back into the cushions when he tried to sit down. Maybe for the best, the floor seemed to wobble more than usual.

“Hi yo’self,” the human voice was so warm. Or maybe he was drunk enough to imagine it that way. “How’s dat you make my shadow to just go and disappear from ‘ell just fo’ you?”

“I guess he likes me,” Anthony slid down the armrest and finally took in the whole Alastor’s height, gazing at his face he couldn’t read even if he tried to. He watched the demon look around until he stopped at the corner where the bottle landed and fell apart and his eyebrows knitted together.

“Hey Al,” Anthony raised a hand and tried to grab at something of the mans’ but missed. He tried few more times but couldn’t decide which of the three Alastors were the right one, so he just fumbled around until Alastor took a pity on him and grabbed his hand in his, stilling him. Also, warm. So, so warm. “Do you ever hug people?”

“No,” the demon answered back simply. “Do you?”

Anthony took a breath with sure answer, then stopped and thought about it.

“…I guess not,” he conceded momentarily. “Nobody t’ hug, really.”

“D’you wanna hug?” came a question and Anthony looked at their joined hands and let out a long, tired sigh.

“Ya,” he croaked out. “I wanna hug. I dun even rememb’r who or when I hugged someb’dy last.”

“I think I hugged ma mum last,” Alastor slowly lowered himself on the couch, sitting at Anthony’s feet, his hand still gripping his prey tightly. “Long time ago.”

“Was she nice?” the human whispered softly.

“Very nice.”

“Do ya miss her?”

“Ev’ry day,” Alastor had the softest expression Anthony ever saw on him. It was almost painful to see and yet somehow beautiful it would be a waste not to look. He wondered if Alastor was ever in love with somebody other than his mum.

“She in heaven?” he asked gently and only got a nod as a response. He felt his head clearing a little and hoped he would remember this tomorrow as clearly as he saw it now. He tried to scramble up, though it probably was the least dignified climb he ever did and then shuffled close to the demon, sitting down with his knees almost touching Alastor’s thigh. Almost.

“Tell me ‘bout her,” he nudged him gently.

The demon tilted his head, the buzz of the static coming to life all of sudden it almost startled him. Probably not the best topic to breach, he realized and looked down at the clawed hand that was still holding his with surprising gentleness.

“Your shadow is pretty independent, huh,” he changed the topic for peace of mind of both of them, and the buzzing intensified. Fuck, not that either.

“My shadow has no filter,” the static voice rang out, the tenseness of Alastor’s smile indicating the situation bothered him more than he let on at first. “He does what feels right.”

So, it felt right for it to come here and comfort Anthony when he felt like shit and wanted to drink himself into stupor?

“It’s nice sometimes,” Anthony tried carefully. “To do what feels right instead of worryin’ ‘bout consequences.”

The static picked up in obvious disagreement and Alastor was glaring at him, his eyes redder than ever.

“Like you do all your miserable life?” the demon uttered venomously, and Anthony felt his heart drop into his stomach and dissolve. When Alastor let go of his hand and abruptly stood up, it felt so far away it could have been considered out of body experience for how cold it suddenly became.

“Well,” his mouth moved by some miracle, though he felt his lower lip quiver. “Some days are hard and lonely. And then I get called a slut at work and groped by random guys because they think they’re allowed, and I feel like I need a hug and safety, but nobody can give me what I want, so I cling to somethin’ that feels right at least a little, even though it’s not good… or healthy… or… “

Sincere and not a lie.

“Or I just wanna forget all that shit by doin’ more dumb shit, because… why not. At least it makes me free for a while, other than just… surviving,” he tried to take a breath but it came in wet and hiccup-y and he realized he was already crying like a pathetic fool thinking a demon could give a shit about anything more than the end of the deal and one more chess piece on his black and white board.

Fucking, stupid idiot, like always. Even though he knew. He knew.

The static was so loud now it made Anthony cover his ears and shut his eyes and he felt sick in the stomach and the fucking tequila wanted to fuck him up now, because why not now, at this exact moment, when everything else was falling apart.

Just go away, go the fuck away, leave me alone.

Then everything stopped. When Anthony opened his eyes, he was alone.

***

2020, January 18th

Anthony woke up on the couch with a crick in his neck and stomach unstable like nitro-glycerine ready to explode. The room smelled of tequila shots and vomit and heartbreak and his whole body was in weird, gut wrenching spasm.

He stared into the ceiling with a splitting headache and wished he’d draw a blank about last night, because nothing about this situation gave a merciful vibe, only bad, bad consequences.

Like Alastor leaving, angry and staticky and cruel.

“FUUUUCK!” he yelled into silence and then grabbed a pillow so he could shout in it again as loud as he could. Regret immediately followed, but he probably deserved to suffer a bit more than usual after a vicious hangover and a dealmaker break up.

Obviously Alastor thought Anthony’s life was miserable. Even Anthony knew it was miserable, he was living it, and he got it. He even made a deal with a devil to make himself less miserable which only added to the pathetic part of the diagnose, so in the end there was nothing much left of him but a huge, pitiful mess.

And Alastor got dragged right into it – a failure after failure, just picking him up with all those fake smiles to keep the deal going because at the end the reward was guaranteed, but it was pretty apparent the equation was not adding up and the result could never be good enough for the demon’s standards.

He just wondered if there was a way to break the deal anyhow, from the demon’s side. There was no way Alastor was coming back after all that, and if he was by some miracle, then only to deliver a killing blow, collecting the soul at least and then leaving him to get eradicated in hell like any other lesser shade.

He managed to drag himself to the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid for 27 minutes before deciding to make himself throw up rather than wait if it would come by itself. It didn’t make him feel any better, sadly, so he just took a shower to get rid of all the sweat and guilt (sadly didn’t work for that one) under streams of water and remained there with head pressed against tiles in hope he would melt through the drain.

Would be honestly quite helpful.

“Anthony?”

He blinked. Did he just hear his name or…?

“Anthony, my good fellow, are you still alive?” Again.

That was Alastor‘s voice. Anthony stared at the door of the shower stand, afraid to even make a sound until he heard his name called once more and that couldn’t be his imagination anymore, right?

“…yeah?” he made himself talk but refused to step out.

“Good! You are still here,” Alastor’s voice was closer now, probably in the hallway. “I am taking your kitchen for now, but please do join me at your convenience!”

Happy, loud voice. The fake cheeriness he heard few times and learned how to recognize – he usually acted like that when he was mad at Anthony for needless flirting but refused to show it.

It made no sense. Why was he here?

The water started to run cold and Anthony gritted his teeth and turned it off, just to carefully step out, bundle up in a towel and added a fluffy bathrobe before cautiously leaving the bathroom. Jazz was playing through the radio in the kitchen and Alastor was humming along while the sound of cutting and simmering added to the ambience.

Was he cooking?

The human stopped near the entrance to the living room and took a deep breath. He wasn’t ready to face him just yet, he still felt like a raw bundle of nerves on two wobbly feet. It was ridiculous – Alastor didn’t exactly do anything wrong. He just stated how things were, Anthony hadn’t been told for the first or last time in his life for sure. He had no right to be mad about the truth.

It was just… such a bad timing. After having a bad day, after going through a depressive episode where the self-loathing starred in the main role, then get this thrown in his face like a hot potato just hurt. Rightfully. But still hurt.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” the staticky voice interrupted his thoughts and the tone was much less cheery now. It made his stomach drop and he unconsciously took a step back. There was a clink sound of a knife being put down and then steps leading towards him, which immediately made him panic and he shut the door to the living room with a loud slam.

The steps halted.

“Should I leave?” Came a question from the other side of the door, loud and clear and scary.

“I don’t know,” Anthony answered back, his hands shaking. It sucked. He should not be this way; he didn’t make a deal for feeling worse than on his normal bad days. He made a deal to be lied to, to be coddled, and then to die and suffer for being a coward, and that was it.

“I will if you want me to,” Alastor said quietly. “I am not here to torture you. Or make you feel bad.”

Too late, bucko.

“I crossed a line yesterday.” It sounded suspiciously like an apology, Anthony thought. “I apologize for saying what I said.”

“What, the truth?” Anthony snorted and leaned against the closed door, eyebrows knitted together unhappily. “Ya don’t need to worry about that one.”

“It upset you.”

“That’s what the truth does.”

“Yes, agreed,” there was a hint of guilt in Alastor’s voice, no matter how he tried to hide it with his radio nonsense. “I was upset too. But still… I should not have lashed out like that.”

Upset?

Anthony turned his head, partly facing the door. What was even Alastor upset about? He just suddenly got all staticky in there, just because Anthony asked… about his mum?

“Because I asked about your mum?” he tried and Alastor on the other side sighed.

“I am going to open the door now,” he stated instead, and Anthony immediately caught the handle in refusal with an immediate no. “Anthony.”

“I don’t get ya,” the human groaned, holding the door closed like it was a lifeline. “I just don’t get ya, why are ya even here? Why were ye so mad yesterday? For a while ya were the nicest person in the whole fuckin’ world and then ya kicked me when I was already on the fuckin’ ground, so why now? Why pretend yer a nice guy when ye don’t care?”

Silence.

“Just because I asked ‘bout her? Ya think it’s somethin’ I can hold against ya in hell or what?” He had no idea if Alastor was still even there. It was deadly silent on the other side, he probably just poofed out of thin air again rather than listen to this.

“No,” sounded behind him all of sudden and it made him curse loudly when he suddenly faced Alastor in his red shirt, with coat nowhere to be seen, his sleeves rolled up and his face not smiling at all. If anything, he actually looked quite hurt.

Fucking filthy lying bastard, that one. Actor worthy of a Golden Globe.

“That’s cheatin’,” Anthony scoffed but Alastor didn’t seem to mind it. He wasn’t immediately in his personal bubble, but he wasn’t far either and it made Anthony unable to collect his thoughts properly. All he wanted was to shout and maybe smack him a bit too. But the demon could bite his arms off, so he refrained from doing anything but glare.

“You seem to like my shadow much better,” Alastor said evenly.

Anthony didn’t get how that was relevant to anything.

“He likes to hug,” he said lamely.

“You like him because he hugs you?” Alastor’s expression morphed into a surprise and Anthony really didn’t get why was he asking about his shadow now of all times.

“Wha… who cares?” he stared at the demon, hating he felt cornered like an animal. “How’s yer shadow even relevant to this conversation?”

“I thought you were asking why I was upset,” Alastor looked away for a while, a strangely nervous gesture. “Therefore, I’m telling you.”

“Because I seem to like yer shadow better?” Anthony almost lost his jaw for how low it dropped and holy fucking shit, was Alastor fidgeting? Was he for real? Was it some refined plan for Anthony to drop his defences again? To act cute as fuck?

His fucking ears were droopy too, Anthony realized, his eyes glued to the top of the demon’s head. No. no no no. This couldn’t be real.

“Are you fuckin’ with me?”

“Since I made a deal with you,” Alastor ignored the question, but still avoided his eyes. “I felt like I lack complete control for some reason. It makes me uneasy when things do not work the way they are supposed to. The way I want them to.”

At that moment it finally hit him.

“You didn’t order yer shadow to come here even once,” Anthony stated, and the static crackled again until Alastor shook his head to get rid of it. Oh. He really didn’t like when things were out of his reach. And his shadow just fucking off to visit the human must have been one of them, especially yesterday.

“But… but you can’t blame me for that?” the human insisted, his eyes wide. “It’s not like I called him here or…”

“Of course not,” Alastor let out a sigh. “He just acts on his feelings.”

“Your shadow likes me?”

“You keep referring to him like he is a completely different person,” the demon crossed his arms on his chest. His forearms were scarred and for some reason showing that bit of skin now seemed like a big step for the man, though Anthony wouldn’t really call him vulnerable. Still scary as fuck.

Silence. Alastor tilted his head to the side, then pursed his lips and looked away again.

“He is not,” he added for good measure. “We are the same being.”

Anthony gaped.

“He has no filter,” he repeated, the conversation yesterday so clear even despite his drunken state, and the more he was staring at Alastor in front of him, the more the demon in red seemed to fluster.

“I, for one,” the demon finally spoke, “have tons of filters. We seem to disagree when it comes to you. On how to… handle you.”

Full body hug versus five foot rule is a pretty wide gap, Anthony mused, still gaping.

“I was unfair yesterday,” Alastor cleared his throat. “You are not… well, of course you are pretty miserable, honestly,” he looked him over, and yeah, okay, fair. He must have looked like complete shit with the hangover, now bundled up in fluffiness of the bathrobe. “There’s no denying it, and you are at least aware of it. But that was not supposed to make you feel bad. It is why we are going to fix this. Eventually.”

“Fix…?” Anthony repeated, not being able to get his expression under control.

“Yes. And then you will die and that would be it, but that is not important right now,” Alastor shook his head again, his voice softer. “Now… you are alive. And you need me.”

“Cocky, aren’t ya,” Anthony sniffed a little. “Mr. Control Freak.”

“At least I don drink tequila like a savage,” Alastor scoffed, the static dropping from his voice like a curtain. “No class at all, cher.”

“Bite me,” Anthony flipped him off and finally opened the door to the living room. Somehow it felt like a gateway where his insecurity had no way to pass and when he walked through, his chest was not so tight anymore.

Then he realized there was a dead deer in the living room, and he hurled out the rest of his stomach contents.

“Tu as fait un gâchis,” Alastor said and went back to the kitchen.

No. No nice things. Alastor was a fucking freak.

#hazbin hotel #radiodust #alastor x angel dust #au #the deal series #human!Angel Dust

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shreddedparchment · 5 years

Text

Man and Wife Pt.10 - Final Part

The Future

04/28/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 8,014

Masterpost Warnings: smut, language, jealousy - both ways, FLUFF!, a smidge of angst

A/N: This is the end. The final chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who became so invested in this little series and thanks to @until-theend-oftheline for letting me have the prompt that inspired the entire series! This has been an amazing exploration of conflict within a marriage and partnership and forgiveness and thank you all so much for loving it! If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

He's as gentle as he can be with you, now more so than ever before, but it's still really fucking hot sneaking around the compound.

You and Bucky have never lacked in passion. It was how your love was born and now with what you hope is the biggest test of your relationship over, you surrender to your passion again.

Bucky's large body takes up most of the space in the closet. The smell of chemical cleaners saturates the air for one passing moment and is then mulled by Bucky's own heady scent.

As he pushes you back against the wall you sigh against his open mouth, his tongue darting out to taste your lemon-sugar lips.

You're already late to the after party, but Bucky couldn’t wait and his need for you sets your heart and hips ablaze with desire too.

“I missed you so much.” He breathes, filling your mouth with the taste of maple mead. You can’t drink but he finally relented and let you talk him into enjoying a glass of Thor’s latest brew.

It's made him hungry for you and you’re so glad you convinced him to have a drink.

“Bucky…” You mewl and he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth, licking up the taste of your lemonade.

He grinds against you but then stops when your belly gets in the way. Instead he pulls his hips back a bit and with his flesh hand he flicks the hem of your orange, blue, and gray plaid dress up to find your underwear. His fingers tickle the skin of your pelvis then slide down further until he can feel your slippery folds.

You both still, freezing as a wave of unexpected pleasure rages through your body. Bucky smiles, like he finally found his prize as you gasp, wispy sweet air breathed into his mouth as he tantalizingly traces a single like from the center of your heat, all the way up to your nub to gently coax a moan from your lips.

“That feel good, baby?” Deep lust echoes in the recess of his chest sending chilling vibrations into yours.

“Yeah.” You whimper, your voice high and hitched as you spread your legs for him.

“Tell me, kitten. Tell me how much you love it when I touch you.” His breathy instruction sounds almost like pleading. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me.”

“Ooh, Bucky that feels so good.” You twitch as he wiggles his finger and reach down to take hold of his forearm while you keep your left arm wrapped around his neck. He slips his finger inside you slowly, teasing you luridly. “Yes, that feels…oh, Bucky, I love it when you touch me.”

Bucky dives for your mouth again, growling as he pushes his finger inside your velvety core further, and kisses you breathless.

“You're so damn beautiful, kitten.” He groans as he slides his right leg between yours and nudges your feet further apart as he slips another finger inside you.

The way he caresses your belly with his metal arm tells you it's your swollen belly, the idea of you full with his babe that is driving him crazy. Why he's so excited you don’t completely understand but now that you’re eight and a half months pregnant, as huge as a house, and he still for some reason wants you, it excites you.

“Bucky…please…” You can’t take much more teasing. Your knees buckle and you slide your hand up further, fisting the soft back of the white long sleeve t-shirt he's wearing as your whole body shift down along the wall.

He wraps his left arm around your waist, hoists you back up and then pins you against the wall with his body to support your weight. Odds are this isn’t the only time your knees will buckle.

You love how he curves away from your tummy. Even though he knows he can’t hurt the baby, he's tender and soft around it but his hands are rough and quick as they tug at his pants.

The clink of his belt fills the otherwise silent closet and then you feel him frantically tugging your undies down as he leans forward and kisses the thin V of exposed skin on your chest.

Sliding into his hair with your free hand, you hold tight as he hikes your left leg around his waist and then stuffs himself into you fully. He trembles as he pushes himself in, restraining himself from the urge to ram into you.

Both of you moan, your higher trill and his booming, guttural, and almost desperately satisfied groan fill the small space and echoes too loud. Neither of you care.

You wiggle with him inside you, willing him to move and he responds, pulling out slowly until he nearly falls out before shoving himself into you again and again and again.

Your moans began as rattling breaths, small cries of frenzied pleasure escape your lips and permeate the air to mingle with the scent of sex and sweat.

Bucky nibbles your neck, licking and biting, groaning and kissing.

“Yes…” You suddenly whisper and Bucky's head whips back to stare into your lust-filled eyes.

“Right there?”

“Yeah, oh yeah, right there…Bucky…oh, god…”

“Tell me, kitten. How do you want me?”

“Harder…f-faster...Rougher, Bucky, please.”

He grins, eyes alight, and wraps his arms tighter, pulling you as close as he can to grind his pelvis into yours. Each thrust is harder, pounding against your nub as the pressure in your hips begins to build and build.

“Yes, yes! Shit. Yes, Bucky!” You grip him hard, wrinkling his shirt between your fingers as you bury your face against his neck, the shock of your orgasm almost splitting you in two. Your stupid swollen right foot—thanks, ducky—cramps as you clench, shuddering as your body shatters with pleasure.

He keeps thrusting and you twitch against his chest until suddenly he wraps his metal hand around the back of your neck and squeezes. His other arm is around your waist as he releases completely within you. Heat fills you and you sigh, almost laugh with glee as you bask in the glow.

It took seven minutes to get your quickie in and with humming bodies, the two of you scramble out of the supply closet.

You adjust your dress, fixing the second to top button back up so that no one can see the marks that Bucky's left.

Bucky smiles at you, holding his metal hand out for you. You shuffle forward and he tucks you there beneath his arm, pulling your hand up to kiss the back.

You rest your head against his bicep, exhausted but happy.

When the two of you reach the large door that leads out to the wide lawn where you’d previously had your wedding, you stop.

You straighten his shirt and he turns you around to make sure your dress is down. He turns you back to face him and straightens your hair.

“I smell like sex. They’re gonna know.” You complain, cheeks hot and ears burning.

“You smell like me.” Bucky smirks. “Besides, it's our anniversary. There'll be more where that came from.”

You smile but still worry about the team being able to tell you’ve just been ravaged in a closet.

“The first year really is the hardest, huh?” You wrap your arms around Bucky's waist and he caresses your cheeks.

“I almost lost you. The first year was hell. I’ll never risk anything that stupid again.” He assures you. “You know we could have gone to a lake or the beach? Fancy dinner? We could have done anything.”

“Except fly.” You remind him. You are eight and a half months pregnant, you’re not allowed to fly. No way you’re getting your ass in a plane.

Bucky frowns. “I never did take you on that honeymoon.”

You scratch his back and he sighs, dropping his hands to rest against the sides of your neck.

“I don’t need a honeymoon, babe.” He’s sweet to want to give you one still but the thought of a honeymoon now is just impossible.

“How about, once ducky’s a few months old, we get Auntie Nat and Uncle Steve to-”

“James Buchanan Barnes, I know you are not suggesting that I leave my baby alone after only having a few months to be with them.” Not happening!

Bucky smiles. Not surprised in the least by your reaction. “I know. I know. I just feel like such a dick for letting chasing Elias keep me from giving you all the things you should have gotten.”

“Bucky-”

“Yes, yes. You don’t need rings. You don’t need a honeymoon. You don’t need a new car.” His eyes sparkle impishly and turn the blue into icy fire. He shouldn’t be allowed to look at you like that.

Your ducky kicks in response. Hard.

“What do you mean, new car?” You narrow your eyes at him, and Bucky chuckles and pulls you up as he stoops down to kiss your lips. He laughs against them, wafting more of that maple mead taste into your mouth. When he pulls back, he’s still grinning, soft laughs in his chest. “Bucky?”

“With the baby, you’re going to need a good car. Something better than the Audi Tony’s been letting me use. I got you a little crossover with lots of space in the backseat. Good for that fancy car seat that Steve got you to surprise you with.” He chuckles louder because he just went and ruined the damn surprise.

“Bucky!” You smack his chest and he catches your hand, pulls it up to his face and holds it against his cheek.

“He was gonna bring it out during dinner. Just try and act surprised.” He shrugs.

“You shouldn’t have told me.”

He’s full of easy laughs and chuckles and you suddenly really want to drag him back to that supply closet.

“It’s just going to be the team, right?” You wonder and Bucky hesitates.

“I think from what Sam said there’s going to be a few of the S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits here too.”

You gasp and take a step back, pulling your hand from his grip. Or you try but Bucky winds his arm around your waist quickly, pulling your round belly against his own sculpted one and pressing your hand back against his cheek again.

“She’s not here, Y/N. Steve and Tony got Fury to offer her a better job and she transferred overseas. We’ll never see her again.”

However, as happy as that fact makes you, it still means that there are other girls who look and move like the blonde. There are women who chase after Bucky even after he’s slipped that silver ring on his finger. They don’t care. They want him anyway and it sucks.

You don’t relax. Instead you look out the glass windows, trying to see if there are any leggy blondes walking around or buxom brunettes. Maybe even some fiery redheads?

“Y/N, look at me.” Bucky pleads, his voice soft and hurt. When your eyes meet his he sighs heavily, slowly, squeezing you close. “I don’t want anyone but you. I love you. No one compares to you, Y/N. Can you trust that I will never let anyone come between us again?”

He looks worried as he waits for your answer. When you nod he releases a held breath and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Come on. If we don’t go out they'll send search party.”

“Okay.” You take his metal hand again and he pulls you out onto the lawn.

Several picnic tables have been gathered together in the distance by the lake. The pier at the end has been transformed into a bar, stocked with more of Thor's mead but also regular drinks and liquor for the rest of the team.

Bucky takes you towards one of the trees where some canvas seats have been set out in a semi-circle. Sam and Steve look up and both spring from their seats. They hurry towards you and Steve dips down first to kiss your cheek, Sam follows, and Nat waves you over.

“Where’s Case?” Sam wonders, watching you as Bucky leads you towards where Nat is sitting in the shade.

“She’ll be here soon. She had to change and get the kids fed before she can leave Jeff alone with them. Jess is still on bedrest and the new baby is her entire world right now.” You explain. Jess had finally had her baby and Casey had taken charge of corralling the other four kids into what passes as acceptably cared for tiny humans.

Jeff does a good job on his own, but Casey worries. She’d really prefer him to take care of Jess and lately it seems he’s doing just that and focusing on the new baby.

“Hey, Caaaaap!” The high reedy voices of several female cadets reach your ears and Steve turns away from you and moves towards them.

You heart speeds up. Bucky senses your distress and reaches up to turn your face towards him. “Ready to take a load off?”

You smile, “Yes.”

“Hey, Y/N. You missed the party. I thought out of everyone you’d be the one celebrating Elias’s capture the hardest.” Nat grins at you then smirks up at Bucky who helps lower you into the seat beside Nat. The sun is still somewhat high in the sky but late afternoon approaches.

You know she’s teasing you, so you sigh heavily, playing along. “Well, I was determined to cut loose and get wasted but Bucky won’t let me.”

He’s smiling at you when you look at him.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here for the afterparty. Tony’s got Happy on the grill and he’s being grumpy.”

You chuckle, feeling more at home with the team than you did the last time all of you got together. They’ve all gone out of their way to be as inclusive as possible and you know that Steve had a lot to do with that. Bucky’s been so focused on you, shunning the team that you’d finally had to push him to stop being so neglectful of them.

He’d fought you on it, but finally relented and you’ve been to two gatherings with Bucky since—you were too exhausted to go the other times and Bucky always came home before ten.

His hand wanders down to the back of your neck and he gives it a squeeze. “You thirsty? Want some water? Lemonade?”

You make a face, the idea of drinking anything after having all that lemonade with Casey at lunch…Bucky laughs at your expression. “Okay, how about something to eat?”

You smile, wide, eyes scrunching because you know he’s spoiling you. You’re starving. You’re always starving. This little ducky is a monster in size and they just seem to keep growing.

“Please.” You tell him and he leans down to kiss your lips with a loud smack.

“Hamburger?” He asks.

You nod and he kisses your lips again with another equally loud smack.

“Pickles and ranch only?” He clarifies and you nod again.

“You’re disgusting.” He gushes at you.

You giggle, literally giggle, and he smooshes his lips against yours a final time then pulls back with a loud, “Muah!”

“I’ll be back.” He assures you then turns and leaves to bother Tony and Happy who are standing by the pier in front of the large Barbecue pit, arguing about the correct amount of time to leave burgers on the grill.

When you look at Nat, she’s got beaming heart eyes. “You guys are too cute.”

You feel your cheeks and neck heat up, the embarrassment of being so open with the PDA catching up with you.

“We had sex in the supply closet.” You laugh, your lower lip pulled through your teeth and your hands shooting up to touch your hot cheeks.

Nat laughs. “Of course, you did. How many more weeks until you’re due?”

“Two.” You smile, reaching down to rub your bulging belly.

“May I?” Nat asks, tentative but when you nod and smile, she hurries forward and presses her hands to your stomach.

“She won’t kick?” Nat wonders, pouting because she wants to feel the baby. She reaches up and pulls her red hair back behind her ear then places her hand back in its spot.

“We might have tired our ducky out.” You don’t know if the baby’s a boy or girl. You don’t care. Neither does Bucky. You just want a healthy baby though you suspect that Bucky’s been partial towards a boy. “My ducky only kicks when I look at Bucky now. Otherwise, nothing.”

You look over towards Bucky standing by the grill with a plate of hamburger buns, waiting for the patty. Your heart flutters when he looks up towards you and smiles widely. His blue eyes sparkle at you, like he can’t help but seduce you over and over. How does he hold this power over you?

You feel the familiar bubbles in your stomach and Nat laughs when her hand is thoroughly kicked.

“Ooh, yay. Hi baby girl.” She looks at you. “Nat, right? Please tell me you’re naming her Natalia.”

You laugh and shake your head. “I don’t know if it is a girl, Nat.”

“Bah.” She shrugs at you. “It’s a girl. Aren’t you baby Natalia? Natasha? Which one do you want, baby girl?”

You let Nat spout her affections, appreciating the love the team seems to have for your coming bundle of joy.

The night moves along, eventually Tony claps his hands and about thirty small orbs with tiny little thrusters on the base of shining metal panels surrounding the orbs float overhead and light up the area.

Tony eventually escaped to one of the picnic tables. Bruce, Clint, and Thor sit with him talking animatedly about something. They keep waving their hands around as if describing the size of something. Wanda, Vision, Rhodey, and Steve sit at another table with a group of four cadets, both male and female.

Happy has taken to sitting in a lounge chair—snoozing near the grill, sunglasses on his face to complete the very dad-like outfit of khaki shorts and a blue, red, and yellow tropical shirt; palm trees and fronds.

Sam and Bucky are standing further out than anyone else with a trio of cadets. Two female, one male. The two females are the ones you’re watching. You can’t help it.

Can anyone really blame you? You rub your tummy, your brow furrowed. Bucky’s back is to you, Sam is opposite him with one hand in his pockets, the other holding a beer. He looks serious, despite his relaxed stance, as if he’s explaining something. He’s the only one talking. One girl, with long blonde hair wearing jeans and a white peasant top stands to Bucky’s right. The other girl, dark brown hair wearing a jean skirt and a red cotton crop top exposing stunningly cut abs, is standing to Sam’s right. Between them is the guy, you don’t know what he’s wearing. You don’t care.

Bucky’s white long sleeve pulls against the taut muscles of his shoulders. He’s so deliciously huge. He’s yours! The possessive instinct makes you rub your stomach faster. Harder. Worried. His butt looks good in those jeans too. Ugh, why does he have to be so good looking?

You like it. You wanna stare at him all day, every day. But you also wish he was less alluring. Maybe you’ll ask him to get fat? Can Super Soldiers get fat? Will his metabolism not let him?

The blonde beside him laughs as Sam smiles. The other girl who you can’t see clearly because Bucky’s blocking her also moves with laughter, as does the guy. A joke? Had Sam been telling a joke?

As the blonde laughs, she reaches over and place her hand on the small of Bucky’s back and you freeze. When she removes it, only then do you breathe and move again, rubbing just as fast against your tummy. Just as hard.

She begins talking quickly, looking up at Bucky as he looks down at her. He looks confused and then she stops as if waiting for an answer. She asks Sam and he shakes his head. She asks the other girl. Nope, she shakes her head too. Then she asks Bucky, reaching over to place her hand on his large bicep but it’s not just a placement. She gives it a squeeze and drags her hand down slowly until she can take hold of his elbow.

Bucky shakes his head and you can read his mouth as he says, I don’t know. What?

The girl looks away and says something then let’s go of Bucky as everyone laughs.

Beside you, Casey reaches out to place her hand over your stomach. She, Pepper, and Nat are sitting around you. The four of you forming a cross around a small portable fire pit that Tony had purchased specifically for tonight.

As your attention is drawn away from Bucky. You see that all three women are watching you with furrowed brows. You settle on Casey.

“He wouldn’t do anything, Y/N.” Casey reminds you and you know that she’s right.

Nat and Pepper nod in agreement.

“I already told him I’d cut his balls off if he did anything stupid like that again.” Nat assures you.

Pepper nods again. “We all did. You’re very good for him. Tony made sure he understood what he almost lost.”

“Tony?” You’re surprised because out of all the members of the team, you’d never thought Tony would go to bat for Bucky. And giving him a get-it-together talk is definitely going to bat for them.

“Yeah. We’re all of the same mind.” Nat promises.

“And Sam won’t let him make a mistake like that again.” Casey assures you, her blonde hair gathered up into a small ponytail.

You look back towards your husband, sighing deeply as you caress the base of your stomach. The blonde beside Bucky laughs as the guy finishes his own story or joke or whatever the fuck he’s saying, then she reaches out and grabs the Bucky’s shirt just above the curve of his butt. Bucky shifts to his left as if he’s trying to get beyond her reach while you grip your dress in tight fists as your heart nearly leaps into your throat to choke you.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you need to say something, Y/N.”

You look at Pepper and she’s leaning towards you, hands on between her jean covered knees.

“Tony—before we got together had a different girl every week. It took a while for some of them to take the hint, but you have to be firm with those that can’t.”

You know what she’s saying. She’s telling you that if you want to keep your man free of other women touching him, then you need to say something.

It feels strange to feel like this, jealous and possessive because you were never like this before. Yes, you cared, but you were never worried like this. It feels like a gnawing in your chest and you hate that it’s there.

You get up slowly, Casey helps you get to your feet, then you waddle up behind the blonde.

“So, he tries to get me to buy the watch even after I told him that I was there to take him in for fraud. I mean, this guy won’t quit.” Sam is saying. He spots you but his eyes shine, and he says nothing as you approach.

You steel your nerves, harden your heart for a bit, and reach out. Placing your hand on the upper butt of a girl that you don’t know feels weird. But this is the best way that you can think to make your point.

She squeals and jumps, not recognizing the pressure and turns to look at you with shock on her face. Everyone looks at you.

Bucky’s eyes, bright from Sam’s story, dim and his smile disappears immediately as he takes in the expression on your face.

“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice hard and sharp. “Did that feel weird?”

She smiles, uncertain. “Yes?”

“Did it feel kinda like it’s not a good place to be touched by some stranger?”

Her eyes shift with realization. She looks at Bucky and then looks back at you.

“Y/N…” Bucky begins but you cut him off.

“You know that he’s married, right?” You ask her, feeling like shit yourself for saying these things but also feeling all the way into your bones that if you don’t say it that you might very well choke on the words.

No one is talking. No one. Not Thor, Clint, Bruce, or Tony sitting at the nearest picnic table. Neither Steve, Rhodey, Vision, or Wanda. In fact, Tony is on his feet. Steve too.

The girl seems to notice this too because she looks around at Bucky, Sam, her two friends, and the rest of the group before she meets your eyes again. “Y-yes.”

“Yes? And you still thought it was okay to grab at his arms and ass?” Your voice is still strong but hurt and full of disbelief.

“I didn’t-” She begins then looks at your rounded belly, and guilt floods her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You look at Bucky and he’s staring at you with such intensity that you forget your anger and reach over to take his arm.

“You wanna go home?” Bucky asks.

“No. Why should I cut my night short. I am tired though. I need to sit.” He leads you back towards your seat.

Behind you, you can hear Sam speak, his voice low and commanding. “I think you’ve outstayed your welcome.”

Casey grabs and drags her hand across your arm as she passes you to get to Sam. Pepper and Nat both get up to join the other tables leaving you and Bucky alone by the fire pit. Once you’re seated, Bucky squats down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“Bucky, if you don’t say anything, they’re just going to keep doing it. Why do I have to be the one to say something?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I knew she was touching me too much. I should have said something.”

You saw him shifting away from her. He probably just didn’t want to be rude but that’s how they get their stupid feet in the door. You know this is your insecurity now. One that you never had before.

This sucks.

“I think we need to go back to Dr. Garza. This isn’t okay, Bucky.” You sigh, hating yourself for feeling like this.

He reaches up, cupping the sides of your face. “Okay. I’ll call her and make an appointment. Okay?”

You nod.

“I love you, kitten. I’m sorry. I’m…I’ll be more aware from now on.” He promises and you take him at his word because you know he does love you and you’d seen how uncomfortable he was with her touching him.

“I love you, too, Bucky. So much. I never want to lose you.” You admit, reaching up to place your hands over his.

You see pain flicker in Bucky’s blue eyes, and he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, one cool, one hot. “You won’t, Y/N. Never.”

He pulls you down for a kiss and holds it. When he finally breaks it, you’re both breathless and emotional.

“Should we go home?” He wonders, you nod. “Okay, let’s go home.”

Goodbyes are quick and Steve finally produces the car seat that Bucky had promised was coming. You try your best to pretend to be surprised but it falls flat and Steve frowns at Bucky before reaching over to shove him, hard.

“Thanks a lot, jerk.”

“I’m sorry!” Bucky laughs. “I couldn’t help it. She seduced it out of me.”

“Hey!” You protest. Who was seducing who here?! He’s the one that dragged you into that closet. You’re already feeling better.

At home, once you and Bucky can just be alone together—the night and the blonde begin to fade away. Bucky helps you shower, lovingly scrubbing all the places you can’t reach. He kisses your tummy, cherishing the life within.

“Hurry up, ducky. I can’t wait to meet you.” He whispers against your belly as warm water washes over you both.

You chuckle.

Bucky waits until you’re sitting up in bed, propped up against the headboard, before he grabs a large dark brown glass canister and crawls over to you expectantly.

You know what he wants and if you’re honest, it’s the best part of your day. You lift up your pajama top to show him your tummy. He screws the bottle open and takes a scoop of cream from inside then begins to slowly massage it against your swollen and scarred belly.

“Ooh, cold.” You gasp.

Bucky smiles. “I can’t wait to meet our ducky.”

“I know.” You laugh again. “Two more weeks baby. Then our ducky will be with us and we can-Ow.”

You gasp, reaching down to hold your tummy as your body is rocked with pain. It’s not pain like you’ve really ever felt before. Pressure. So much pressure. All of it on your pelvis and then your lower back.

“Y/N?”

“I’m okay.” You sigh, releasing a slow breath.

“You sure?”

“Mm-hmm.” You make to shift up some more so that Bucky can get more comfortable, but you stop, fisting the sheets as a wave of throbbing pain moves from the top of your pelvis all the way to the bottom, then your back bursts into a radiating ache. “Ow!”

“Y/N?!” Bucky pushes himself up onto his knees and leans to place the bottle of cream on his bedside table.

“Bucky…” You blink, suddenly scared. “I think the baby’s coming.”

If your water had broken in the shower, there would be no way of knowing. Had you peed yourself in there? You can’t remember. This baby has you going so much that you’ve grown a little numb to the sensation.

Bucky’s already up, scooping up your packed bag, racing to get your shoes, and then helping you to the door.

He holds your hand, letting you squeeze it as hard as you can when you have to stop as the pain shocks you again. Thank God, the elevator is fixed. As the doors close, Bucky wraps his right arm around your waist.

“I’ve got you, Y/N.” Bucky promises. “I’ve got you.”

And then, as he gets you in the car and shuts the door, you can hear his panic slip through as he hurries around to the driver’s side door. “Holy shit, I’m gonna be a dad.”

Small squeaks, small murmurs, little whines, and tiny grunts. These sounds are like the songs of angels. Your angel. Your precious Natalia Rebecca Barnes. Lia for short because Bucky says he’s not saying all that.

Her tiny body, the literal size of a baby-doll, lays between you and Bucky. You’re on your right, resting comfortably against your pillows. Exhausted. Breast feeding is no joke and getting up at all hours to feed your ducky is draining.

Luckily, with Elias caught and you out of official work, both of you get the rare luxury of staying home with her. He helps to let you sleep but right now you and your baby girl are sleeping a lot together.

Right now, the exception as she drifts off after a feeding. Bucky’s right index finger and thumb measure the length of her teeny foot. She’s so beautiful, her dark patch of hair so stark compared to the blue of her eyes, hidden at the moment as she sleeps.

“She’s so small.” Bucky smiles, so happy you can almost feel the utter sunshine radiating off of him.

You’re busy staring at her, the knuckle of your left hand gently stroking her puffy left cheek.

“She’s perfect.” You sigh. “Oh, Bucky, I’m so happy.”

And you’re crying, so desperately pleased with yourself and Bucky and your little ducky in this one perfect moment.

Bucky reaches over to cup your cheek and when you look at him, he’s crying too.

“I can’t believe how different everything feels. This is all that I’ve ever wanted, and you gave it to me and I’m so grateful.” You sob, quietly because you don’t want to startle Lia.

“You’re grateful?” He half-laughs. “I never thought I could have this. You’re my miracle, Y/N. You and Lia.”

You laugh too, still sobbing happily. Bucky pushes himself up and leans over your little one and you hurry to meet his lips because that’s what he’s asking for.

You try to see this from the outside. Bucky laying on your daughter’s right, you on her left. Bucky wearing a pair of soft comfy black sleep pants, no shirt, his hair smooth and tucked behind his ear. You in your own powder pink—Bucky’s favorite color on you—pajama shorts set; hair braided to keep it out of Lia’s face. And your teeny one, in her newborn, black onesie with white polka dots, her little arms and legs exposed as the scorch of summer demands exposed skin.

The three of you are perfection. Maybe in not being perfect, you are perfect. Lia had come two weeks early, excited to meet her daddy. He had asked her several times to hurry up and she’d quickly obliged.

Bucky pulls back, staring deep into the ecstatic pools of your eyes, and he says nothing. He doesn’t have to. You feel it. As he lays back down, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek, the adoration pouring off his expression fills you with all the assurance you need to know that Bucky is here with you and Lia. He’s not going anywhere.

You are his love and Lia is his life. Nothing will ever come between you again. You may still struggle. You may still fight, but nothing is stronger than your need to be together. With each other. With Lia.

The front door beeps and you gasp, exaggerating for the benefit of your audience.

“Where are my girls?” Bucky’s deep timber shakes the walls, filling your home with a much missed warmth.

Lia, standing at just three feet wearing a steel gray tulle skirt with a jean ruffled top, gasps too. Her little voice high but confident as she jumps to her feet and with her small feet slapping against the wood of the entryway, she stops just inside the door as it creaks open slowly. As she hops in place, her hair swishes along her back, long and dark.

“Daddy! Hurry! Winnie was making Ana laugh!” Lia exclaims.

Bucky throws the door open.

“What?!” He exclaims but drops his duffel bag on the floor and throws his arms open as his four-year old runs towards him, shrieking excitedly.

Smiling, you get to your feet slowly, balancing one-year old Georgiana on your hip. She’s dressed comfortably with her soft brown curls pinned back with a silver baby bow, and her teal and white polka dot dress fixed around her pampered bottom. Her little potbelly sticks out as you hold her, her tiny hands pressed against your neck and chest as she holds on.

Beside you, Winnie, your two-year-old, in her light blue floral skirt and her white dress shirt solidifies her as the princess of your girls. She loves dressing fancy, even if she’s just going to hang around her house, her dark brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She scampers forward, as Bucky opens his metal arm and scoops her and Lia up with a chuckle.

“Daddy home!” Winnie exclaims. “Wook, mommy!”

You stop at the edge of the carpet, watching as Bucky kisses each girl on their puffed-up cheeks.

“I see that, Winnie. Did you miss your daddy?”

“Yah!” She giggles. “I miss daddy, dis mush!”

She spreads her little arms as wide as she can, and Bucky widens his eyes. “Woah! That much?”

“Yah!” Winnie shouts again.

“Sshhh, Winnie. Mr. Ryan will get angry again.” Lia says responsibly, pressing her small index finger to her lips as she shushes her finger.

“Oops.” Winnie whispers then giggles again as she wraps her arms around Bucky’s neck and cuddles against him.

Lia shakes her head, rolling her eyes, and it hurts to see how big your baby girl has gotten! Ouch!

Not much however, because she dives into Bucky’s neck, following Winnie’s lead as she wraps her arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, I missed my girls so much.” Bucky says, moving towards the couch.

As he passes you, he leans in and kisses Ana’s chubby cheek. She giggles and coos and reaches for his cheeks but when he pulls away, she whimpers, and you rub her back because you know how she feels. You want him too. Bucky falls into the sofa, sighing as the girls get more comfortable.

“Pwesents, daddy? Pwesents?” Winnie asks, curious, not demanding.

“Oh, man. The presents! I forgot the presents.”

Winnie’s little eyes dim, and Lia shakes her head. “It’s okay, daddy. We don’t need presents. Right Winnie?”

Winnie looks at her older sister and nods furiously. “Yah! We dun need pwesents…but it wooda bean nice.” She shrugs.

Bucky chuckles, throwing his head back with genuine amusement at his second-born. “I’m just kidding, princess, go look in daddy’s bag.”

You watch a both Winnie and Lia scamper off towards his abandoned duffel bag screaming and giggling the whole way. They dive onto their knees and begin to pull apart his clothes. Once Lia had been old enough to get into things, he’d stopped carrying weapons in there.

You turn back to look at Bucky and jump with slight surprise as you find yourself looking into his shining blue eyes. He’s biting his bottom lip, scrunched down with his shoulders hunched so that he’s at exactly your level. His hands take hold of the sides of your face and he dips down low, kissing you softly, then greedily, his tongue dipping between your lips to pry your mouth open for him.

“Mmmmm.” He moans.

“Mmm.” You moan too, higher and more quickly as your eyes shut and your eyebrows shoot up into your forehead. God, this man can kiss. Even after five years.

“Eeeewwww, Daddy!” Winnie exclaims.

“Shush, Winnie.” Lia chastises. Both of them hold fluffy bunnies. One pink, one blue. Winnie holds the pink. Lia the blue. “Come on, Winnie let’s go play.”

You and Bucky are oblivious to them at the moment, since they’re safe and perfect, Bucky gives you his full attention as he pulls back to stare at your face. “Let me look at you.”

He still says that, after every mission. Your heart beats wildly in your chest but the one year old in your arms screams and Bucky turns to her. He tickles her tummy and kisses her cheeks. She laughs her adorable baby laugh. It makes you chuckle and Bucky too.

You reach up and fix her hair as Bucky suddenly drops to his knees and places his hands on your six-month baby bump.

“How’s our little soldier?”

“Bucky,” you laugh. “We don’t know if it’s a boy yet.”

“It has to be a boy. I need to start evening out the numbers.”

“Yeah, well, if you get another girl, what are you going to do?” You wonder, adjusting Ana. Bucky sees you’re struggling and kisses your stomach before rushing back to his feet. He offers his toddler his hands and she lunges for him.

“What do you mean? I’ll name her Stephanie, after Steve.” He bounces Ana and pretends to eat up her tummy. She laughs again. “Won’t we, baby-doll? We’ll name her Stephanie and tell Uncle Steve that he’s gonna be Godfather again.”

“Bucky?” You probe carefully, wondering if you should even bring this up. You lick your lips and place your hands on your lower back, resting your weight back on them. “Something happened while you were out on mission.”

With worried blue eyes, he turns to you, swaying with Ana as she plays with his hair and tugs his ear.

“I bumped into Henry.”

You see the ice in his eyes as you say the name and sigh. “I took the girls to the park and-Nothing happened.”

“Of course, it didn’t. I’m not stupid.” Bucky says and though he sounds like he trusts you, there’s a shiver of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I just…I wanted you to know. I wanted to tell you myself.”

“Why?” He asks, his voice sharp and it hurts to hear. Why did you bring it up? He’s angry now.

“Because? I don’t know. I want to be open about it. He still lives here but we never see him when we’re together and all of a sudden he shows up when I’m alone with the girls? I only ever seem to bump into him when you’re out.” You’re not sure what to make of it. It has to be a coincidence. Every few months or so he pops up out of nowhere and makes conversation. Asks how you are and asks about the girls but never about Bucky.

“How often?” He asks, curt and brooding.

“Once every few months? It started after that one time you and I bumped into him when Lia was one, remember?” You watch his face, wondering if he could ever forget it. Probably not.

You’re not unaware of Henry’s gaze when he bumps into you. He always glances at your left hand first, like he had that first time, and you’re grateful for the shine of your wedding band. So unnecessary in your opinion back when Bucky gave it to you because you were violently committed to him—you still are—but with him gone, you suddenly see the perk of having it.

Bucky stops swaying as Ana’s little eyes shut. He stares at you, watching as you begin to fidget. You wring your hands and play with that wedding band. He frowns, hating to see you worry.

“Are you angry?” You ask and Bucky breathes in deep and then releases it slowly.

“No. Of course, not, kitten. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You relax. “Okay.”

“When did you see him last?” Bucky asks.

“Day before yesterday? He sat with me in the park for about an hour and then left.”

Bucky nods and kisses Ana’s forehead carefully rested on his shoulder. You can see how much he cherishes her, half you and half him. His little doll, perfect and peaceful.

Bucky’s not sure what he’s doing. He’s driven forward by anger. Not hatred. Jealousy maybe? He knows he has no one to blame but himself for what happened five years ago. Both of you have moved on very well from that but Henry’s popping up every few months and only when you’re alone?

What the hell is he playing at?

Bucky knows very well what he’s doing. Checking to see if things are still good, probably.

He moves into the elevator of the familiar office building. Luckily, it’s after hours, and your old floor is nearly empty as he stomps towards the large office at the back. He stops, steadies his breathing because he’s fuming, and tries not to bang on the door.

He fails.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

There’s a startled shift in the room beyond and the door is suddenly yanked open. Bucky tries to melt the ice in his eyes, but he can’t. His heart is racing, his breathing short, his shoulders heaving, and it takes every ounce of will power to channel his rage into his hands.

He grips the doorframe and holds it tight, squeezing the wood. It cracks. Henry’s dark eyes dart towards the sound and only when Bucky finally speaks does Henry look at him.

“I know you slept with my wife.”

“I-” Henry begins, but Bucky’s eyes narrow and it stops his words in their tracks.

“I don’t know what game you’re trying to play but I am never going to leave her. We’ve got three daughters, and a fourth on the way. Y/N and those girls are my life and if you come near them again, I’ll make it so that no one will ever find what’s left of your body when I’m finished with it. Stop showing up. Got it?”

Henry nods his head, his hands shaking, his eyes wide.

“Say it.” Bucky growls, feeling more and more possessive of his perfect family the more he pictures you with the girls sitting on the floor watching Ana play with her toys.

His girls. His wife. His perfect happiness. He’ll kill anyone who threatens to take it away.

“I-I’ll stay away.” Henry stutters, fear making his voice shake.

“If she tells me you showed up again—I promise you, I will come for you. I retired the Winter Soldier but if I need to, I will let him come out and play.” Mean it? Maybe. Being the Winter Soldier is one of the darkest parts of Bucky’s past but if he needed to use it to protect you and the girls, he would do it in a heartbeat.

“O-o-okay.” Henry nods, taking another step back.

“Okay.” Bucky says, giving the man a small smile before he turns and stalks back out to head back home, he’s got some berries to refrigerate.

You’re almost asleep. Your body exhausted from watching the girls all day and carrying your fourth. Absentmindedly, as you drift off, you stroke your belly.

Heat engulfs you from behind and you smile wider. “Mmmm.” You groan, so at peace to know Bucky’s home.

His hands wind their way around you and carefully he pulls your shirt up so that he can stroke your bare belly. You place your hand over his and wind your fingers through his. He kisses the space behind your ear and heavily sighs.

“Did you find the strawberries? Winnie won’t eat her pancakes without them.” You tell him, eyes still shut tight as he splays his fingers on your distended stomach and rubs it again.

“I found them.” He whispers.

“You were gone for a while.” You observe, the closest grocery store is only a few blocks away. Shouldn’t have taken so long.

“I-” His hesitation more than anything makes you open your eyes. You and Bucky have no secrets. Not since that night. “I went to see Henry.”

You shift around, twisting so that you can lay on your back and Bucky lifts his hand just enough to give you the room to do so. When you’re still again, he wraps you up tighter and pulls you closer. “You what?”

“I told him to stay away.” Bucky looks a little sad about it and you wonder if he’s feeling the way you once felt so long ago telling some random girl to back off. “Was I wrong?”

You reach over with your left hand and tuck his long hair behind his right ear. You shake your head. “No. I’m grateful.”

In all honesty, you hadn’t been able to tell Henry to go away. Not because you wanted to see him but because you didn’t want to justify the need to tell him to keep his distance. He should mean nothing. He does mean nothing…but not to Bucky. You wish that wasn’t there. That forever worry about the man whose arms you ran to when Bucky fucked up.

“Really?” He asks, raising his eyebrows and his face relaxing a bit.

“Yes.” You pull him down by his ear, kissing his lips briefly. “I hated seeing him.”

He rests against the mattress, letting all the stress in his body fall away as he cuddles closer to you, inhaling deeply as he presses the tip of his nose to the space behind your ear again.

“I love you, Y/N. I know I say it all the time. I’m-I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t.” He pulls back to watch as you smile, loving him more after all this time than you did before.

“I never do.” You promise him. “I love you, too, Bucky. You’re my everything.”

“And you’re my life.” He whispers, “My kitten. Forever.”

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necropsittacus · 4 years

Note

for the ask thing, all the ones you have an interesting answer for

this is extremely long because I Love Oversharing so under a cut. thanks britta!!!

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?tea, black; i've tried putting extra spices in it but i think i'm not doing it right bc it gets grainy and weird? i don't drink coffee anymore for "hey maybe we should stop consuming this thing that makes us feel like we're actually about to die" reasons but when i did it was with a fuckton of cream5. are you self-conscious of your smile?yeah; less so since i actually brush my teeth semi routinely now, so they're less awful, but i still have a slight overbite and a residual habit of covering my mouth with my hand if i open it very much 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?either weird vent fanfiction that i never end up finishing, drawing in my notebooks, or i try to make the overly dramatic/pretentious thoughts that pop into my head into poetry (which i never end up finishing, go figure).9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?used to, but it's like. even besides insecurity about my voice and the fear that i'll be Too Loud and bother someone. the same internal barrier that makes it hard to speak out loud, especially if i'm not directly prompted to, applies to singing10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?usually side, and in the fetal position. occasionally back though13: what’s something that made you smile today?saw a chickadee!14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?god i don't know that's like. that's the fucking dream, for the future, but i hadn't gotten as far as daydreaming about *decoration* or anything of that sort. at the moment i tend towards covering things in movie posters and little trinkets i accumulate and toys and that sort of thing. i know i couldn't do sharing a room with someone else long term, it'd get stressy, so at least two bedrooms (or a bedroom and a pull out couch in the living room, that'd work), a little kitchen. no minimalism, but i might like having primary responsibility for Housecleaning sorts of things for my loved ones, or keeping things reasonably neat. just. something that feels like a proper home. safe. 16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?i am extremely boring and usually just do fettuccine alfredo. that said, cheese ravioli and pesto products are also very good. i just don't like super complicated foods with ingredients i don't recognize, or red sauce. red sauce is Sensory Bad. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?i mean i've been dyeing mine black since i was like 17 to the point that people think that's the natural color and i just let them, and honestly i'm very happy with thatred looked good on me, and i definitely like the way a lot of those super bright unnatural purples, blues, etc look on other people but it doesn't feel like "yes this is Correct this is what i'm Supposed to Look Like, this is the color it was *supposed* to be all along" in the same way, it just feels like i'm dyeing it a weird color for fun18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up."mola mola isn't a slur, right?"20: what’s your favorite eye color?idk about "favorite" but dark brown eyes are really pretty22: are you a morning person?i tend to be more productive and (assuming at least like five or six hours of sleep) more cheerful in the morning, but getting out of bed is a horrible struggle bc executive dysfunction and anxiety23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?tbh i HATE having those days, i don't like being super busy Either but i get really like bored/restless/I Am Going to Rip My Skin Off to Have Something to Do Please Let Me Out of the House if i genuinely don't have anything scheduled for a day? so i usually *make* obligations for myself, writing projects or something like that, if i don't have anything externally enforced. and go to the library or a cafe or something bc i feel more alive if i don't stay in my room all day24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?yeah26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?i mean i've only had them for like a year bc it turns out that wearing the same pair of shoes almost every day wears through them pretty fast, who would have thought? but black combat boots28: sunrise or sunset?sunset31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.they hurt but i p much only wear boots so i have to wear them all the time. also my feet are weird and fucked up and i don’t especially like looking at them. and then i forget to take them off to sleep so i just. wear them all the time except to shower. i like weird socks with like animal pictures or whatever but then i feel bad abt wearing them bc i wear out socks really fast for unclear reasons34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?ooh i had a lot!! most of them were sea mammals, a couple sharks i think? i had a couple rabbits when i was Really small but i don't remember them as clearlyi can't remember most of their names but they had whole like imagined stories and relationships to each other and shit, i definitely remember there was one stuffed orca that was almost as big as kindergartener me35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?oh absolutely!! i write mostly in pencil for ease of corrections and so it doesn't bleed through the paper, but i accumulate pens/weird ink colors/etc37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?see i *prefer* having my room be clean but it literally never is 39: what color do you wear the most?black. combination of "trying to be low effort goth" and that idk how to coordinate colors so all my outfits are either all black or like. black + one other color + possibly grey, bc i figure there's no way that could end up clashing horribly. also i only HAVE black pants anyway so like. 41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?mm i know accident by christa wolf hit me pretty hard in some emotions, and that was recent44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?i'm not sure that's an emotion i have tbhwhen i'm happy there's this kind of anxious edge to it, not necessarily in a bad way, but "at peace" is. an odd concept for me. the closest i get is this sort of quiet not-exactly-negative melancholy if i'm not behind on anything and it's raining and everything's just sort of soft yknow? 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?marinara sauce. i hate that shit. i'll eat it on pizza or if i literally have to in order to get a meal and i can't physically handle not having one, but that's about it. also tomatoes more generally! i like ketchup but that's it. why do yall insist on putting tomatoes on everything all the time i Don't Like Them50: what’s an odd thing you collect?i keep all the toys i get out of kinder eggs and stuff like that. also i just have hyperempathy about inanimate objects and animals (and basically no empathy for humans most of the time, weirdly enough) and it's frequently difficult for me to throw things away because "well i'll be hurting it!" so uh. i just accumulate objects. i still have my old toothbrush somewhere55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?i straight up tried to kill myself to win an argument with mom once in high school. and i'm not talking like a mini fakeout attempt that wasn't supposed/expected to work, either, i did regret it but i was straight up prepared to die to get her to believe me 56: what are some things you find endearing in people?rambling/talking about your interests, emotional openness. if you like. send me things that reminded you of me/you thought i'd like, or initiate physical contact so i don't have to feel so weird/guilty about it, that's a very fast path to my affections. just being weird as shit. lots of little things, really. depends on the person a lot, though; either "person is Soft and Good and i feel like it's my responsibility to protect them" or "person is Kind of Scary/Edgy and i will attach myself to them and remain loyal no matter what and they appreciate it" are pretty consistent things, but those are a long way from the Only paths to my affection58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?awfully bold of you to assume i have a friend group and not just a disparate group of friends who mostly don't talk to each other. i AM semi consistently the weird vodka uncle though. 59: what’s your favorite myth?LOTS. that's not quite a fair question i can't pick one favoritethe volsunga saga does come to mind, though60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?i do!!! i thought i didn't because turns out the things they make you read in high school english are often Not Terribly Emotionally Resonant for me, funnily enough, but when i started reading russian poetry in college, and more mental illness focused stuff tbh, it was like Oh Shit This Is Really Cool. i really like vladimir mayakovsky!61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?when i was really small i gave my dad a care bears coloring book for his birthday because for some reason i didn't process that other people didn't have exactly the same interests as me??62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?i drink either unsweetened green tea or monster energy drinks in the morning. depends how much of a disaster i'm being on that particular day. 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?all my music is online or haphazardly downloaded to my phone so there's. not really any way to organize that if i wanted to tbh. i make a lot of character or ship playlists that i'd put more effort into organizing if i ever got around to showing them to other people, but Also anything that isn't too embarrassing to risk anyone else seeing just gets put in one folder. i DO organize my books, though. i usually *forget* to put them back where they're supposed to go, but there is a proper order (everything from one author or franchise together, stuff like star wars or tolkien is together and in in-universe chronological order, stuff like that), and i get upset if people fuck with it67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?nice. it's very calming, and also bright sunlight hurts my eyes fjgshtf68: what’s winter like where you live?not very different from fall most of the time. climate change is making it more midwest-y, which i'm not sure if i'm happy about or not (snow nice, but summer is also progressing in that direction, which is unfortunate). somewhere between the 30's and 50's (fahrenheit), mostly pretty grey, it rains sometimes. it's not cold enough that i need to have a real coat, usually sweater+leather jacket is enough. my hands always hurt, though70: have you ever used a ouija board?yeah i used to do it with my brother sometimes. nothing ever happened tho76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?i need to write my paper proposal for nuclear lit and also draw some stuff for people that i've been putting off because my brain hates me and Catching Up On Everything I Should Have Been Doing a While Ago Is Scary77: pink or yellow lemonade?both? both is good78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?i have no real feelings on minions one way or the other but i have no interest in them and don't like seeing them all the time79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?someone i used to know was going to move away from their abusers and get a job and such, partly or mostly For Me, so we could run away and start things over together after i graduated. and then things blew up but. it was very sweet and sometimes i get emotional about the concept of that still 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?three white, one blue. i didn't choose it, it came with the dorm room. my bedroom in my parents house has really dark blue walls, which i DID choose bc i wanted a dark color and my brother already had red ones and i wanted to distinguish myself from him. 82: are/were you good in school?mmm more or less, yes i'm terrible at certain kinds of projects and at getting stuff done without pretty much devastating my physical ability to function pushing myself at the last minute. that said, i'm very good at tests, good at papers, good at language learning and bullshit analysis. it's just like. PLEASE don't give me "fun creative projects!!!" or start with the "oh well tests aren't a good way of measuring learning, here's some other stuff that will be easier for you!" thing. i *like* tests. tests make sense and it's just sit down for an hour and you're done. it's the other stuff that's hard also i'm so used to my mother's ridiculous standards that it's like. yes i am good at school, in that my professors keep telling me i am Very Smart and things of that nature. but also i am terrible at taking care of myself while i have school because me being good at school is to some extent reliant on my brain's false insistence that Everybody Else Has Perfect Grades and Is Killing Themselves Slowly To Be The Best, so clearly we need to do that too! and any sacrifice is worth it! so eventually i just collapse84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?yeah definitely, at some point. there's other things that are more pressing to spend my limited amount of non-parent-controlled money on right now, but i know i want like. some manner of thing referencing my chronic turin turambar (self dx) status, probably his grave inscription or a sword (or both eventually!). probably also a bird of some sort85: do you read comics? what are your faves?see i'll happily read comics if there's a franchise i'm already interested in that has comics as part of it, but i'm not like a Comics Fan per se. i tend to find them kind of overwhelming because there's just So Much content and i don't know where to start and i usually get distracted before i finish. i did really enjoy mtmte and the tdc creation myths comics89: are you close to your parents?nope! i send my dad animal pictures, and vice versa, and that's about the extent of it when i'm not staying with them for breaks. mom's...Difficult(TM) and dad i get along with fine but i don't really know how to text him 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?drowns. i want to be able to actually taste it.93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?my hair is too short to really have Different Styles. i just keep it combed pretty neatly bc that's the only thing i know how to do afngjdsgf94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?my friend emma @autisticsansamaybe people i care less about had them more recently but tbh if we aren't friends i don't know when your birthday is without being told96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?i have literally never updated this laptop because it does not have space for an update. this isn't even my fault. i have deleted *every single thing on it that is not important to make it actually run* in order to have enough space to update, and it STILL doesn't. 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?a few months ago i would have said 5 years into the past, because i Desperately missed aspects of how my life was at that part of high school--mostly having people i loved and who loved me, who wanted a future with me, and the certainty of that, that i wouldn't just be On My Own Forever post educational system--but now? future. high school fucking *sucked* in a lot of ways, and also i was a terrible person and i don't especially want to go back to that version of me. future is like...scary because yeah there is a decent possibility i'll just be pretty much totally alone and having to work a job i hate to keep up, but like. there is also a possibility that i'll have the things i wanted all along in a more stable context, yknow?

#suicide ment /#alcohol ment /#ask memes #long post #very long post ajhnfgsf im so sorry

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incorrect-got-quotes · 6 years

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“Testing the Waters”-Sansaery

Based on, and may be continued by, @captainofthekryptonspacemarines prompt: “May I abuse of your amazing skills to get prompts for the next setting? I’ll credit you with the ideas and I’ll send you the links. Sansa a shy girl who is questioning her sexuality and one night goes to a club and Margaery is just drawn to her, Margaery herself doesn’t know why she’s talking to her when there are other more attractive girls on the club with more revealing outfits but before they know it they’re back at Margaery’s. If I could I’d let you publish the stories yourself”-

WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD

(A club, late at night, somewhere in Kings Landing. It’s a mostly nice place, but it’s also somewhere that you could you probably catch an STD. There are several scantily clad people dancing on the dance floor, masses of sweaty bodies rubbing against each other, bounding up and down to the beat of the song that the DJ is so masterfully spinning. The whole place is alive. The only place not bustling with life is the bar, a rather dead affair. Only a few people hang around there; the whole purpose of this club is just the dance floor, and the only purpose of the bar is for people who are just desperate enough for hydration to wade through the bodies to get there. The few people who hang around there have either been dragged here by friends or have only come reluctantly, and are seriously regretting it. One such character at the bar is Sansa Stark. This is where our story begins.)

Sansa: *takes a sip of her drink, accidentally spilling some on herself in the process* Oh, shit! *starts wiping herself down with napkins, to no avail* Voice: Need a hand? Sansa: *looks up, it’s Margaery, but in this story, Sansa doesn’t know her yet* I, uh- Margaery: *reaches her hand out* Margaery. Sansa: *takes it gingerly* S-Sansa. I’m sorry about- *gestures to the front of her dress, which is completely soaked by now* Margaery: *laughs* It’s fine. I’ve done worse, believe me. Sansa: *laughs nervously* Yeah? Margaery: *looks down with amusement* Yeah, one time I was talking to this really cute girl, and it was going great… Sansa, with a suddenly piqued interest: And? Margaery: Well, I’d had a little too much to drink, because my brother had dared me to a drinking contest, and there was absolutely no way I’d let that son of a bitch beat me. So, at this point, by the time I’m talking to this girl, I’m absolutely HAMMERED. Sansa: *gasps* Oh no. You didn’t. Margaery: *nods solemnly* I did. All over her new shoes. They were really pretty, as well. Sansa: *winces* Ooh. Margaery: *laughs with self-deprecation* Yeah, my brother has yet to let me live it down. Sansa: *chuckles with empathy* That sounds like something my brothers would make fun of me for. And my sister. Margaery: *hums* Oh, yeah? How many do you have? *takes a sip of her drink* Sansa: Four. Margaery: *chokes briefly* Four? I barely survive with one! Sansa: *nods and hums* Well, they’re not too bad. You’ve got Robb-he’s the eldest, and he can be a big sweetheart, when he’s not a complete moron. Jon’s the second eldest, and he tends to be pretty quiet compared to the rest of us, with the only exception being when he’s with either Ygritte, his girlfriend, or Theon, Robb’s boyfriend who may as well count as a fifth brother with how long we’ve known him. Jon’s always bickering with them. Margaery: *snorts* That sounds like fun. Sansa: *laughs* Yeah, well. *clears throat* Then, you have Bran, my younger brother, who’s the second youngest. He’s also pretty quiet, but he’s always spewing some mystical bullshit at us, predicting the future. Of course the scary thing is-he’s almost always right. Margaery: *eyes widen* What? Sansa: *continues on* Other than that, he only seems to hang out with this pair of siblings who are the kids of an old friend of our Dad. They’re also pretty quiet. *laughs* We all know that he’s dating one of them, we just don’t know which. Margaery: *laughs* Sansa: Then there’s Rickon. He’s the youngest, and the loudest. He’s always running around with his direwolf, Shaggydog. Mum nearly gets a heart attack everyday with him around. He’s cute, but not cute enough for him to get away with the things he does. Margaery: *brow furrows* He has a direwolf? Sansa: Yeah, one day, about 10 years ago, my dad, Robb, Jon, Bran, and Theon were traveling through the woods together after a camping trip, and they stumbled across a dead mother direwolf. Her litter was surrounding her, trying to nurse. There were 6 pups in the litter-one for each of my siblings and me. Margaery: *raises an eyebrow* Speaking of your siblings, you mentioned a sister? Sansa: *snorts and scoffs* Arya? She’s the whole reason I’m here. She dragged me here saying that, “I need to get out more.” Margaery: What’s she like? Sansa: *brow furrows* Well, for one, she’s incredibly rebellious. She’s the only one out of the six of us with an actual criminal record. Margaery: *raises an eyebrow and smiles* Yeah? Sansa: She’s also kind of like Bran in that there are twice as many people who we don’t know if she’s dating or not. And they’re all related, too. Margaery: *laughs* Sounds like you’ve got a complicated family. Sansa: *lightly laughs* Yeah, sort of. *takes another sip of her drink* What’s yours like? That is-if you don’t mind me asking. Margaery: *hums with contemplation* Well, compared to your family, mine seems pretty standard. Sansa: *shrugs* There’s no such thing as a “standard family.” Margaery: *briefly raises her eyebrows in concession* True. *furrows her brow* Well, my mom was your typical mom. Strict, but caring. My dad is a bit weird. He loves to sing for us, and he’s a bit of a big idiot, but he means well. My grandmother is practically my mentor. She’s taken it to teach me everything about handling people, the political world, everything. Sansa: *raises eyebrows* Really? Margaery: Yup. *chuckles* My brother, Loras, and I are practically best friends. We go everywhere together, do everything together, and judge everyone together. Sansa: *laughs* Oh, yeah? Sounds like Bran and Arya, and Jon and Robb when they were younger. Margaery: *laughs* Did Bran and Arya, or Jon and Robb date the same guys? Sansa: N- *blinks in surprise* Wait, what? Margaery: *raises an eyebrow in amusement* If you’re wondering, yes, he is gay. Sansa: *rubs the back of her neck with uncertainty* Is-is he okay with you letting me know something like that. Margaery: *shrugs* Everyone who knows him pretty much has figured it out at this point. *raises an eyebrow* And based on your reaction to my story earlier, you seemed like a person who could relate… Sansa: *eyes widen* What-I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about. Margaery: *laughs* Based on your reaction when I mentioned flirting with a cute girl, I think you do. Sansa: *bites her lip* I-um… Margaery: *puts a hand on her shoulder in comfort* It’s okay. I’m not judging. *shrugs* After all, I’m the same. Sansa: *breaths out through her nose, relaxes* Right. Margaery: Besides, your family must not care either. Sansa: *raises an eyebrow in confusion* Yeah, how do you figure? Margaery: *chuckles* Well for one, you mentioned before that your brother has a boyfriend. Sansa: *blushes* Oh, right. Margaery: You also were very general when you mentioned your younger brother and sister’s respective love interests. You said, “siblings,” and, “people.” *raises an eyebrow* Care to explain? Sansa: *smiles lightly* Well, with Bran, we’re not sure if he’s dating Meera or Jojen Reed. And with Arya, it’s a tossup between Gendry Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon, Shireen Baratheon, and Daenerys Targaryen. Margaery: *blinks* Gendry, Myrcella, and Shireen Baratheon? As in, the older brother, younger sister, and cousin of Joffrey Baratheon? Sansa: *eyes widen* You KNOW Joffrey Baratheon? Margaery: *nods* Yeah, I used to date him back in college! Sansa: That’s insane! I used to date him back in high school! We broke up because he went off to college, and because I was starting to question my sexuality. Margaery: We broke up because he was an asshole, and, to completely blunt, I was never really into him anyways. Sansa: I can believe that. Margaery: So, your sister is into his siblings and cousin. As well as his distant cousin. Is she here? Sansa: Arya? Yeah, she’s actually right- (Sansa is cut off by the sound of the thump of someone sitting down next to her on her other side. It’s Arya, and, surprisingly, next to her is Myrcella. They both look flustered from dancing.) Sansa:…here. Arya: *looks over* Hey, Sansa. *looks past Sansa* Hey, Margaery. *looks over to the bartender* Two bottles of beer, please. Myrcella: *looks over in surprise* Oh! Hey Margaery! Hey, Sansa! Margaery: *raises hand in greeting, but is also stunned* SHE’S your sister? Sansa: *blinks in confusion* You two know each other? Arya: Yeah, she was the girl I told you about that had started dating Joff-freak. Myrcella: *snorts* Arya: I would see her whenever I came over to the Baratheon house to hang out. *raises her eyebrow* What are you guys talking about over here? (Sansa and Margaery both stutter, still confused. Arya and Myrcella laugh in response.) Arya: *puts her hand on Sansa’s shoulder* I’m just messin’ with ya’! Myrcella: You two should see the looks on your faces! (At this point, the bartender is back with their drinks. Arya and Myrcella take their drinks and start to get up again, after Arya leaves their pay, as well as a fair tip on the counter.) Arya: *turns towards the pair* Well, it’s been nice talking to you guys! *wiggles her eyebrows* Have fun! Myrcella: *giggles* (They disappear back into the wave of bodies. Sansa and Margaery watch as they go. Margaery finally shakes out her shock first, and Sansa gradually follows.) Margaery: *laughs* Huh, small world we live in, right? Sansa: *laughs with slight hesitation* Yeah, small world. Margaery: *gestures to the crowd* Guess that answers the question of who Arya’s dating, right? Sansa: *laughs again, this time with more confidence, and shakes her head* No, trust me. This just makes things more complicated. Last week, Robb and I found her tangled up in the blankets of her bed with Daenerys. The week before that, Jon and Ygritte saw her and Shireen, and ONLY her and Shireen, coming out of a theater together, holding hands. The week before THAT we were looking for Arya, and we asked her friend Hot Pie where she was- Margaery: Hot Pie? Sansa: Don’t ask. And he told us that she and Gendry had driven over to this cliff that was notorious for being a great place to make out. We honestly have no idea how to decipher her love life. Margaery: *whistles* Wow. Sansa: *chuckles* Yeah. *takes a final sip of her now empty drink*…what about you? Margaery: *blinks in surprise* What about me? Sansa: *gestures the empty bottle at her* Your love life? Margaery: *pauses, then breaths out of her nose* Honestly, it’s been rather stale ever since I broke up with Joffrey. Sansa: *eyes widen* You of all people have a stale love life? Margaery: *cocks an eyebrow* Me, of all people? What is that supposed to mean? Sansa: *stammers* Well, it’s just that-well, you’re so charming and beautiful. I just…don’t understand why someone so gorgeous is still single. Margaery: *eye soften, looks down* I just…haven’t found the right one. *looks back at Sansa, raises an eyebrow* And what about you, hot-shot? Why are you still single? Sansa: *shrugs* I’m still…*pauses, but does not find her words* Margaery:…still figuring things out? Sansa: *nods gently* (There is a small stretch of silence.) Margaery: You know, sometimes people find things out about themselves through experience. Do you wanna…? *bites her lip* Sansa: *looks up in shock, but does not argue* Are you…seducing me? Margaery: Unless, that is, if you’re too drunk, or… Sansa: No, no. Trust me. *gestures to her bottle* This is the only one I’ve had. And besides, I’m a Northerner. *puffs up her chest* I’m no lightweight. It takes at least three fairly heavy drinks for me to get buzzed. I’ve learned from experience. *gestures to Margaery’s drink* What about you? Margaery: *holds up her drink* It’s non-alcoholic. I came here with my brother, and any time he catches me drinking something with alcohol in it, he challenges me to a drinking game. Sansa: Where’s your brother? Margaery: He left a while ago with his boyfriend, Renly, and some other guy that I, and I suspect they, don’t know. Sansa: Aren’t you worried? Margaery: Nah, Loras is a big boy. Renly is older than I am. They can make their own decisions. Sansa: *hesitates, then nods* I guess I can understand. I probably wouldn’t do the same, but I get it. Margaery: *shrugs* Eh, to each their own. *looks back at her* Now, where were we? Sansa: *furrows her brow* Huh? Margaery: *chuckles* I was “seducing you”? Sansa: *laughs hesitantly* Oh, yeah. Margaery: *smiles* Would you be okay if I kissed you? Sansa: Oh-I-are you sure? Would that be okay? Is it-I don’t- Margaery: *puts a hand on Sansa’s shoulder* Hey, hey! It’s okay! We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just to test the waters, remember? Sansa: *chuckles* Right. Margaery: *tilts her head* Well…? Sansa: *bites her lip in contemplation for about 10 seconds, then nods* Margaery: *smiles lightly, then leans over* (When their lips meet, it’s with gentleness, and care. It’s not a strong enough contact that there are any fireworks, but there’s definitely a spark there. When they pull back after only 6 seconds, their eyes meet. There is a brief silence between them, as neither of them even let out a breath, until suddenly, Sansa pulls Margaery towards her again. This time, their lips join together in passion, and it’s not fireworks that go off, but wildfire explosions, engulfing the whole world around them in heat. When they pull apart, it is only because the bartender begins clearing her throat.) Bartender: *raises an eyebrow* (They break apart in embarrassment.) Bartender: *points to a sign on the wall that says “NO PDA”* Margaery: *chuckles* Sansa: *blushes* Sorry. Bartender: *rolls her eyes and walks away* (Another silence falls upon them as they catch their breaths.) Sansa: *looks over at Margaery* Well, if that was only testing the waters, then I really wanna know what it’d be like to actually swim in them. Margaery: *raises an eyebrow* Oh, really? Sansa: *nods again, filled with confidence* Yeah. Margaery: *smiles coquettishly* Well then, how’s about we go take a dip back at my place? Sansa: *blinks in surprise* Wait, seriously? Margaery: That is- *rubs her own arm* Unless you- Sansa: No, no! *grabs Margaery’s hand* I do want to! Let me just- *pulls out her phone and sends a quick text to Arya, telling her that she won’t be coming home tonight* Margaery:…well? Sansa: *finishes her text and sends it* Done. *starts getting her things together* Let’s get out of here. Margaery: *starts gathering herself as well* Let’s. (They pay the bartender, and leave. As they start walking out, Sansa’s phone suddenly buzzes.) Sansa: *looks down at her phone* Margaery: Who is it? Sansa: It’s Arya. Margaery: What does she say? Arya’s text: !!!!!GET LAID BIG SIS!!!!!! Sansa:…she says good night. Margaery: *furrows her brow, then shrugs* (They go off on their way.)

THE END (For now…)

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sachertortes · 6 years

Note

More prompts!!!! Do you think you're up to having a go at reformed/double agent!Brock Rumlow?? If not, I'll settle for Bucky :-). I'll take nobility theme #2 please 😄💖

@ibelieveinturtles ooh! my first ever Brock x Darcy fic! Enjoy

Prompt: Nobility themed, #2: “we’ve been engaged to be married since we were three but this is the first time we’ve met and your portraits really don’t do you justice”

Pairing: Brock x Darcy

Rating: T, for language

Notes: Modern Royalty AU

“She could have a huge fuckin’ wart in the middle of her face,” Brock said, glaring at the portrait that had been hanging in the sitting room for the past two years.

“Hell, she could have several huge fuckin’ warts in the middle of her face,” added Jack. He squinted at the portrait while taking a sip of the Rumlows’ incredibly expensive scotch.

A round, pale face stared back at them with large, luminous blue eyes. The Lady Darcy Lewis wore a deep purple silk gown that showed off her bare shoulders and the long column of her neck. Her dark brown hair was braided into an elaborate style that was adorned with tiny gold vines and amethysts.

But Brock’s favorite part of the portrait, not that he’d ever tell anyone, was her lips. Her soft-looking pink lips that made him think of doing things that would’ve gotten him kicked out of any number of posh Swiss boarding schools. (He should know, he’d hopped around them often enough.)

“She could have bad teeth,” Brock continued casually.

“Bad teeth? Maybe you’ll be lucky if she has any at all.”

“Aw, what the shit.” Brock winced.

Jack laughed raucously. “Seriously, man, what’ll you do if she looks nothin’ like this portrait? You gonna disappear the painter or somethin’, that poor bastard?”

“Nah. That’s that artsy fartsy artistic license. You can’t fault him for that. You should feel sorry for me. A goddamned arranged marriage, can you believe this shit?”

Jack clapped a comforting hand onto Brock’s shoulder.

“Well I guess it’s not every day your parents give you Rumlow Hall and a girl.”

Rumlow rolled his eyes. “They’re not giving me anything but a headache. Our families have known each other for generations. They think it’s only natural that we should…make our alliance official.”

“Ah, romance the old money way. Her bling looks like it’s old money too,” observed Jack. He snickered. “Hey, notice how she’s not wearing any silver? What if she’s a werewolf? Or some kinda bearded lady?”

“I’ll run away to the Amazon. Live in the jungle.”

“Well, if I were I bearded lady, you wouldn’t know. I could just shave it off, right?” came a sarcastic voice from behind them.

Brock turned and the woman in the portrait stared back him.

It was then that he realized that the portraitist was wrong. So wrong.

Lady Darcy was even more beautiful in person. Instead of a gown, she was wearing tan breeches that clung to some delectable thighs and tall, slightly muddy, riding boots. She had her herringbone jacket draped over her arm and there was a spark of mischievousness in her eyes that the artist hadn’t managed to capture.

Jesus, was she holding a riding crop?!

A sly smile spread across Brock’s face.

“Oh! Your mother wanted to show off your prized horses, so we went riding for a bit. Hope that was okay.”

“Yes.” Brock cleared his throat. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to.”

“Darcy Lewis. I’m your future bride, I guess.” She laughed and held out her hand.

Brock took her offered hand in his and squeezed it once.

“Brock Rumlow. Nice to finally meet you, Lady Darcy.”

Brock had never thought of himself as a husband. Married, yes, because that was expected of him, but never a husband. His future bride’s face, until recently, had been a formless thing when he thought about it. He gave more thought as to how he was going to keep his various dalliances discreet during the marriage.

But now he smiled when he thought of being a husband. Because Lady Darcy was to be his wife.

Darcy smiled back at him, humor in her eyes, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. He gazed back, suddenly thinking about all the various ways he would fulfill his “husbandly duties”.

In the quiet, Jack coughed expectantly.

When Brock still did nothing, his friend let out an exasperated breath.

“Hi, I’m Jack Rollins,” Jack said, extending his hand. Darcy shook it politely. “I’ll just be over –“ Jack gestured to the bookcase by the window and when Darcy nodded, he left.

“You know, you don’t come off nearly as annoying as the papers would have me believe,” Darcy lilted at him, once they were alone.

“Of course I’m not. I have…interests other than parties and cars.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

“Yes. I even read your thesis.”

At this Darcy finally seemed surprised. “Wait. Really? You read my thesis?”

“Certainly.”

He didn’t tell her that it took him five tries to finish and understand it. He definitely didn’t tell her that after one night of particularly hard partying, he was nursing a hangover when his mother shoved some papers in front of him. They were her thesis and an article in the Times praising her and Dr. Jane Foster’s research.

“Lady Darcy is certainly making herself worthy of our title. See that you’re worthy of her, will you?”

He laid in bed all day feeling like a shit. Well, he always knew he was a shit but something in his mother’s tone and his father’s stare made him ashamed of being a shit. Suddenly, all of his “antics” weren’t fun and exciting, they were embarrassing.

The next day he cancelled his trip to Dubai and told the model he occasionally slept with that he wasn’t going to be able to make their date. He flushed his “recreational medications” down the toilet and began avoiding the worst of his hangers on.

It took a few months to end some of his more shady business ventures, but he did it.

And although he cleaned up his act (the Times no longer referred to him as the “Famous Dissolute Rake”) he admittedly felt resentment towards his betrothed. Who was she anyways to make him upend his life like this?

But apparently, she was Lady Darcy Lewis, who eschewed crashing expensive cars and getting high in the back of exclusive nightclubs for a chance to intern with renowned American astrophysicist, Dr. Jane Foster. Darcy Lewis who found a puppy in the street, kept it, then opened several animal shelters. Darcy Lewis who had an Instagram account specifically for all the costumes she made for comic conventions.

“Well. Look at that. I’m very relieved you’re not a stereotypical upper crust bad boy,” she teased in a voice that made the hairs on the back of neck prickle pleasantly.

He took a step closer to her. Closer than what would be considered polite, actually. But she didn’t seem to mind. She only looked at him with those big eyes tantalizingly.

“Believe me, sweetheart, I can still be a bad guy if you want it. If you need it. All you gotta do is ask nicely.”

“Well, Earl Rumlow, can I let you in on my super secret request?”

He nodded. She made him feel generous.

She leaned into his space, filling his senses with the faint scent of vanilla and clean woman.

“Rubies,” breathed Darcy into his ear, sending a shiver through him.

“What?”

“I like rubies best. For the engagement ring. The setting can be silver, if you like. Promise I’m not a werewolf.” She tapped the riding crop lightly against his leg, three times. “And your parents are expecting us for tea in the solarium in twenty minutes. Don’t be late, sweetheart.”

She didn’t wait for his reply, but sauntered out the door, her backside swaying enticingly.

He and Jack both watched her leave.

Jack came over from where he was pretending to leaf through a book.

“Still running away to the Amazon?” Jack asked, looping an arm over his shoulder.

“Shut up and call the Royal Jeweler, would you?”

#brock x darcy #darcyland #darcy lewis #taserbones #taserbones fic #(reformed!Brock needs someone to keep him in line is all...!)#sachertortes fic #prompt fill

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kookingtae · 7 years

Text

experimental error (pt. 2)

pt. 1

→ scenario: Out of fear of being bad in bed, you ask your best friend to help you become better at sex.

→ pairing: taehyung | reader

→ genre: best friend au | smut

→ word count: 6k

The next time you saw Taehyung, things were not the same.

Maybe it was just you being weird—god, why did you have to be so awkward?—but every time you made eye contact, even when you were with a group of friends, all you could do was picture the way he had been staring at you, his intense, lust-filled gaze locking with yours as he rocked into your frame, leaning his forehead against yours and never, ever breaking the eye contact that had played a crucial role in sending you over the edge. The memory would hit you all at once, and suddenly you would be unable to look at him again for the rest of the day.

If he was feeling anything even remotely similar to what you were, he definitely didn’t show it. He continued to talk to you as if nothing had happened, laughing and joking like you usually did until eventually you would get annoyed. Why isn’t this affecting you like it’s affecting me?! you wanted to scream, but you knew you couldn’t. After all, you had told him from the very beginning that you wouldn’t make things weird. He was the one who didn’t want to do this, and you convinced him; you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all just one huge, irreversible mistake.

But then you reminded yourself of why you wanted to do this in the first place: you had only had sex twice with two different guys before Taehyung, and both times were completely miserable. You couldn’t figure out how sex was supposed to be fun; you’re just laying there getting a dick shoved into you, no? But then you realized, maybe the problem was you. How was one supposed to be “good at sex”; isn’t it all just the same thing? How is one person better in bed than another? And it was these simple questions that sparked fear into your brain, starting off as a flickering flame and soon growing into a giant forest fire of worry and self-doubt. You needed answers, needed to find out the truth before the next guy you seriously liked came along; you didn’t want to mess up any future relationships by being boring between the sheets.

So that’s what prompted you to keep your mouth shut. That’s what prompted you to swallow whatever doubts you were having about this and go over to Taehyung’s again, knowing exactly what your time together would entail. You were ready for your second lesson.

“Okay, so I bought a few things for us to talk about.”

As soon as you walked into Taehyung’s room he immediately sat you down on the bed and pulled out an array of objects, anywhere from lube to anal beads, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“What?” Tae frowned, obviously not receiving the reaction he expected.

“What is all of this?” You were still laughing, but when you looked up and realized that he wasn’t smiling, you quickly tried to hide your amusement with stifled grins.

“They’re sex toys!” He whined defensively. “Like look, here’s a dildo, and oh—here’s a cock ring.”

“A cock ring?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re gonna wear a cock ring?”

Taehyung looked down at the object before seeming to contemplate it in his mind. “Well, these are more for educational purposes—to show you what’s out there rather than for personal use.” He quickly placed it back down.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I already know what’s out there, Tae. I don’t live under a rock.”

“Yeah, well toys are important during sex, so we’re discussing them,” he sighed with a plop on the bed. “Now this is an ovipositor. It deposits little alien eggs–”

“Wait, a what?” You leaned away, staring at the phallic-shaped tube incredulously.

“An ovipositor, pay attention.” He rolled his eyes with a huff. “It deposits these little gelatin eggs inside of you, and it’s meant to replicate the feeling of being impregnated by an alien!”

You stared back at him, shocked into silence, mouth hanging open in pure disbelief. “Tae, what the fuck are you into?!”

“I found it on this forum,” he quickly waved off your question before reaching over to his nightstand. “Here, this is one of the gelatin eggs–”

As soon as he dropped the slick, goopy, yellow ball resembling the shape of an egg in your hand, you immediately screamed and let it fall to the floor.

“Y/N! You’re supposed to keep those clean!”

“What the fuck Tae!” You yelled, wide eyes looking from the alien sex toy to your best friend and then back again. “How does that thing even work?!”

“There’s a hole at both ends,” Taehyung explained as calmly as one would discuss the weather, leaning in so he could show you the blue phallic tube. “See, this is where you insert the eggs one by one, and then that forces them up and out the top!”

You continued staring with a look of disgust on your face. “You’re really sick, you know that?”

“I thought you said you already knew what’s out there!” Tae countered defensively as you got up.

“Not being impregnated by an alien!” You whipped around to look at him again. “Who the fuck has heard of that?!”

He simply shrugged. “Guess you’re not as kinky as you thought.”

You shook your head as you looked down at the forgotten egg on the floor, debating on leaving if your problem was just going to be made fun of like this. “You know, Tae, this isn’t a joke to me. I put myself out there and came to you because I seriously–”

“Oh my god, we’re not using them!” He groaned with a roll of his eyes. “I just got it because I thought it’d be funny to show you! There’s an actual reason for all of this; here, come sit down.”

He was patting the spot next to him that you’d just gotten up from, blinking his eyes innocently and smiling one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen—one he always used to get what he wanted.

You crossed your arms and shook your head, this time in disbelief that you were actually entertaining one of his antics as you took your spot back on the bed, careful to avoid the alien dick as you did.

“Now, as I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” Taehyung glared at you, “sex toys are what makes a relationship fun and exciting, and can set apart the wild in bed from the snoozers. The kinkier, the better.” He held up the ovipositor with a wriggle of his brows.

You pressed your palm to your face, silently asking yourself why he was the one out of all your friends who you chose for these lessons.

“These are anal beads.” He held up the long string of black balls on his finger. “They can be used to–”

“No way, nuh uh,” you waved both hands at him, quickly shaking your head. “We’re not doing any butt stuff.”

He seemed surprisingly caught off guard by this. “Are you sure? Anal is a given way to make any sex life better.”

“Yes, Tae, I’m sure. No anal.”

The boy just shrugged before putting them down, this time picking up a small, thin, metallic looking object. “Now this is a Prince’s Wand, and it gets inserted into the male's–”

“Okay, you know what? I think I’m good on sex toys,” you immediately jumped up, lifting the objects in your arms and shoving them back into the drawer of his nightstand. “Why don’t we move onto the next part of the lesson?”

Taehyung looked offended at first before his eyes lit up. “Ooh, okay! The next part is sex positions.”

You nearly resisted the urge to smack yourself on the forehead.

45 minutes and 22 positions later, you were currently laying on the bed, your head and shoulders flat against the mattress while the rest of your body was up in the air, your legs bent so far back that they were touching the pillow behind you.

“I don’t really see how I’m supposed to… move in this position,” you called to Tae who was kneeling in front of you, attempting to move your hips which just made your body rock back and forth like the ball that it was shaped into.

“No, that’s my job,” your friend informed you, grabbing onto the back of your thighs which were pointed right at his face. “I move you up and down with the pace of my thrusts; see, you just roll a little! That’s why it’s called the butter churner.”

You glared up at him as he mimicked the movements. “I don’t see how this could at all be sexually pleasing,” you frowned as you put your legs back down and emerged from your ball. “It just seems like it would hurt my neck.”

“Well maybe, but what’s life without living on the edge a little?” He smirked before nudging you playfully.

You didn’t nudge back. “Do people actually do these sex positions?” You rested your elbow on your knee with a sigh. “The only ones I know of are missionary, doggy style, reverse cowgirl… all these others seem like ones that old people would use if they were scrambling to keep their marriage alive.”

He barked out a laugh before answering your question. “Not really, no. Not unless the sex is so bad that you need to start looking up new positions.”

You chuckled before growing silent. “Sex with me isn’t that bad… right?” You bit your lip and looked up at him with worried eyes.

“No!” Taehyung’s booming laughter filled the room as he hit your arm for good measure. “I’m talking about people who don’t move and basically act like they’re dead. No one wants that… unless necrophilia is your thing.”

“Gross!” You hit his arm back with a laugh, the sounds of amusement fading naturally into silence.

Tae looked at you before holding out his hand. “Come on, enough fooling around. Let’s get to the action, shall we?”

You felt your stomach roll as you took his outstretched hand, not sure of where he was going with this until he suddenly sat up against the bed frame and pulled you on top of him.

“O–oh.” Your eyes went wide at the abrupt action before grabbing onto his shoulders and adjusting your position on his lap, your knees bent on either side of his waist and your back straight so that you were straddling him.

Taehyung didn’t notice your awkward movements, or if he did, he didn’t say anything, because soon his lips were on yours and he was kissing you in a way that had all of the air whooshing from your lungs.

You nearly resisted the urge to push him away—you hadn’t been expecting that, the action still so foreign and unfamiliar to you with your best friend—but it didn’t take long for him to refresh your memory on why you went as far as you did with him last week.

Kissing Tae wasn’t the worst experience, you could say.

You were quick to recover from your initial surprise and started moving your lips back against his, his touch and taste slowly coming back to memory after you’d all but shoved the thoughts from your mind in an effort to suppress them. Though at the moment, you couldn’t begin to remember why—not when he already had your lungs gasping for breath and his hands climbing beneath your shirt.

His fervor was just another thing that came as a surprise to you compared to his timid attitude at the beginning of your last session, though you knew it really shouldn’t have; this was Taehyung you were talking about. He could befriend a total stranger in .25 seconds, much less work up the courage to seduce his best friend.

His enthusiasm did wonders to encourage you, though. Already you could feel your hesitation waning and your hunger growing as you moved your hands from his shoulders up to tangle in the soft locks of his matted hair, already tousled on his head from the extensive workout of sex positions (aka trying to figure out which limb went where) that he just put you through.

A few wandering hands, battling tongues and heavy breaths later, it wasn’t long until you felt them: his bucking hips, which contained the one thing that played an essential role in this arrangement in the first place, and it was pressing between your legs with each motion until you suddenly couldn’t take it any longer.

“If I wanted a lesson on making out, I would’ve just asked Jimin,” you abruptly pulled away to bark in an impatient tone; this was your unconventional way of telling him to hurry up, apparently.

Taehyung’s chest was rising and falling with his heavy breaths, his lips were red from the pressure that he used to kiss you, and his eyebrows were knitting together in confusion at your departure before he was suddenly rolling his eyes.

“God, you sure know how to ruin the mood.”

His words came out as a grumble though you could sense there was no true malice or hard feelings behind them. He quickly tore your shirt over your head which was then accompanied by your bra, and you almost made a remark about the speed at which he was moving but you bit your tongue. You had asked for this, after all.

“Get on your back.” His voice was firm now, more of an order than the playful whine that he would usually speak with, and so you had no other choice but to gulp down your protests and do as he said.

As soon as you were against the mattress and left exposed from the waist up with nothing but your nerves driving you forward, Tae’s fingers were on your zipper. “Do you mind if I take these off?” He grinned, a glint of mischief in his expression as he started undoing the button of your pants without waiting for an answer.

Your breath stayed lodged in your throat as you watched him, unable to make any movement from your spot against the mattress as he eased your legs out of their confinement. It was only with the realization that you had forgotten which pair of underwear you put on today that you lifted your head to look down out of curiosity.

“Oh my god,” you groaned out loud when you saw them, completely mortified as you squeezed your eyes shut and collapsed your head back against the pillow with a sigh of defeat.

“Frozen?” Taehyung stated in disbelief, staring down at your panties before looking up at you with wide eyes. “You have Frozen underwear?”

“I bought them when I was a little kid!” You groaned again, covering up your face with your hands and silently reprimanding yourself. You couldn’t believe today was the day you chose to wear these.

“Um, Frozen didn’t come out that long ago…”

“Shut up!” You shouted in exasperation before sitting up. “You’re ruining the mood!”

“Me? You’re the one wearing Frozen underwear!” He shot back while trying to hide the giggles that were threatening to escape his lips.

“Whatever,” you scoffed, ignoring the embarrassment that inflamed your face as you fell back against the bed.

“Jeez, Y/N. Why can’t you just let it go,” Taehyung said, and this time he was unable to hold back as he burst into laughter at his own joke.

You groaned louder to drown him out. “I hate you,” you grumbled, fighting the smile tugging at your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared off into the distance.

“Oh really?” He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head at you cockily.

Oh no. You knew that look.

You quickly sat up and opened your mouth to protest when you suddenly felt a long, slender finger being pressed against the center of your clothed slit.

You instantly fell back against the mattress as a shudder ran straight through you. “Tae!” You scolded, gritting your teeth at him. The little shit.

“What is it, Y/N?” He asked innocently, peering down at you with an unsuspecting smile as he pressed his finger against you harder. “You were saying something?”

“I–” You fought to get your words out, but you couldn’t speak between the heavy breaths of air that escaped you as you felt him start to massage small, tight circles around your clit. “I–”

“You—you what?” He teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched your writhing frame. “You hate me?” In one swift motion he pushed your panties to the side and swiped his cool finger against your now dripping wet core.

“Ah!” You moaned out, throwing your head back and arching your back as he found direct contact with your exposed clit.

“It sure doesn’t sound like you hate me,” he said, tauntingly swirling within your wetness and dragging mewls of desire from your throat. “It sounds like you like what I’m doing to you. Is that right?”

He kept dancing around your entrance, teasingly starting to dip his finger inside only to quickly pull it away again. You started to shake your head no, if only to withhold the satisfaction from him, but at this point your lust outweighed your pride.

“Please,” you whimpered.

His eyes sparkled even brighter at your plea, instantly shooting forward to hover over your body as his fingers lingered over where you wanted him the most, his face now inches from yours and studying your expressions closely.

“You have to say…” He paused, sticking out his bottom lip and looking up at the ceiling in thought. “Kim Taehyung is better than me at everything.”

“What?” You cried out before harshly jerking away from him. “No!”

“Oh? Is that so?” He raised both his eyebrows, peering down at you innocently as his fingers suddenly tore through your walls and entered inside of you.

Your mouth fell open into a frozen gasp, rendered completely speechless as he hooked his index finger before dragging it back out. A deep shudder ran through you as you watched him bring the finger up to his mouth before sucking it clean of your juices.

“You taste so good,” he marveled, eyeing you under heavy lids as he licked a stripe up his finger one more time with his enticingly pink tongue. “It would be a shame for it to go to waste.”

You were panting heavily now, but this time it was solely from the intoxicatingly lustful gaze he was giving you. “Tae, pl–”

“Ah ah,” he interrupted, shaking his head at you with a grin. “You know the magic words.”

You swear to god when this is over, you’re going to kill him.

“Kim Taehyung is better than me at everything!” You cried out desperately, and then the air was whooshing from your lungs as you felt his finger finally enter you again. “Oh my god,” you moaned in pleasure, gaping at the pure ecstasy that took over your body.

Taehyung watched you closely, his mouth in an open-smile and his eyes drinking up every single one of your reactions. It was only when you felt him pull away did you open your mouth to bark out a protest, but to your delight, you realized that he was just properly removing your Frozen underwear (which thankfully was not brought up to ruin the mood again) before returning to pleasuring you.

“More Tae,” you whimpered, completely tossing your pride aside as you all but begged for him. He was definitely going to give you shit for this later. “I need more.”

“Oh?” Taehyung simply cocked his head before obeying your words and inserting a second finger through your walls. “Already ready to be stretched out for my huge cock, huh?”

“God, would it kill you to not be a cocky prick for two seconds?” You couldn’t help but snap.

“With the way you’re moaning my name like that, yes, it really would.” There was a dark chuckle that escaped his lips as he said this, and it took everything in you not to rip his fingers out of you and shove them up his own ass. You might’ve, too, if it hadn’t been for the immense pleasure that was coursing through your veins and clouding your senses right now.

“I–I don’t s–see what your fucking problem i–is,” you barely managed to get out through the constant pumping of his digits.

“Why can’t you just stop being mean to me and enjoy the pleasure?” He groaned out. “God, it’s almost like you don’t want to feel good.”

You scoffed and opened your mouth to berate him some more, but suddenly he was inserting a third finger through your walls and all logical thought was instantaneously wiped from your mind.

“Oh fuck Tae!” You cried out, head thrown back and back arched as you basked in the onslaught of the sudden overwhelming pleasure he was inflicting on you. “Fuck, too much, too much!”

“Too much?” He repeated in confusion before pulling his fingers out and staring at the width of the three of them put together. “But my dick is way bigger than this!”

“And?” You screeched. “We had sex one time, it’s not like my vagina is going to magically morph to your size!”

“The vagina is a muscle that contracts and forms around what’s inserted inside of it!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Where’s that damn cock ring?!”

“Okay, okay, no need to be rash,” Taehyung was quick to calm you down, the fear evident in his eyes as he raised his hands in a settling manner. “Just… come here. Are you ready to fuck? We can fuck now. You can be on top if you want since I was last time.”

Your friend’s sudden cooperative attitude had your nerves calming a bit. There was even a hint of a smile on your face as you raised to your knees, able to feel the wetness sliding between your slick folds as you waited for Taehyung to take your spot on the bed so that you could climb on top.

“This is good variety,” he commented idly while you were busy straddling him. “Should we try one of the positions we tested earlier?”

The frightening memories of sex positions ranging anywhere from “downward dog” to “king cobra” flashed through your mind—images that you were sure were going to haunt your dreams for weeks. “No, that’s okay,” you quickly reassured him. “Let’s just stick to conventional methods for now since they’re the most common ones that I’ll most likely be doing with other guys.”

Taehyung stalled at your words for a moment before seeming to snap back into it and steadying your hips with his hands. “Do you got it?” He asked as you fiddled with his member outside your entrance. “Fuck I’m so hard right now… I can’t wait to be inside you.”

You suppressed the shiver that ran down your spine at his words and forced yourself from not jumping him right then and there. “Wait! Did you get condoms this time while you were out purchasing your weird sex toys?”

Taehyung’s lips formed into a small ‘o’ before he was sitting up and leaning over to the top drawer of his nightstand.

You shuttered when you caught a glimpse of the ominous ovipositor peeking out at you. “Seriously, how much did you even pay for that thing?” You were scoffing before you could keep your mouth shut. “Did you really get it just to show to me, or do you have plans of actually using it one day?”

Your friend only glanced back at you with a wriggle of his eyebrows and a creepy smirk on his lips. “Why, do you want to try it out?”

“No!” You nearly screeched.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he put his hands up in mock defense and shrugged. “You know, you’re coming off as a real kink shamer right now, Y/N.”

“Because I don’t want to have alien eggs deposited into my vagina?!”

Tae simply shrugged again before shutting the drawer—thankfully without the ovipositor—and ripping open the small condom packet. “Here, put it on for me would ya?”

You were too impatient to argue as you quickly snatched the rubber from his hands, not wasting any time in coaxing it on with your fingers before proceeding to slowly lower yourself onto his dick, knowing that the foreplay already left you with more than enough wetness to take him with ease.

“Fuck,” you cried out in a long, drawn out voice as a spike of pain shot throughout your lower region. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”

“Are you okay?” You heard Taehyung ask, and if it wasn’t for the surprise that filled you when something cocky wasn’t the first thing that flew from his lips after your reaction, then you wouldn’t have opened your eyes to see him staring up at you in concern, almost all traces of pleasure erased from his features as he put your wellbeing first.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you inhaled sharply through your nose before exhaling a deep breath. “It just… took me by surprise is all.”

“Sorry–”

Caring and apologetic? Who was this new Taehyung?

“–I can’t help that my dick is so huge.”

And there he was.

You chose to ignore his arrogance by shooting him a glare before going back to closing your eyes, your head tilted back and bottom lip caught between your teeth as you slowly started to sink lower on his length. The effects were almost immediate; once you sat down on his hips with him buried to the hilt, both of you let out a simultaneous groan.

“God you feel so good,” Tae moaned, unable to stop himself from giving a small buck of his hips up into your heat. “How is it that neither guy liked having sex with you before?”

“I didn’t say they didn’t like having sex with me!” You scoffed in disbelief while experimentally swiveling your hips, suddenly fearful that he misinterpreted your whole purpose for asking this arrangement of him in the first place. “I said the sex wasn’t good for me! I just wanted to make sure I’m not the problem!”

“I can tell you right now, you’re fucking not the problem,” Taehyung let out a small, dark chuckle of disbelief as he tightened his grip and rutted his hips up a bit harder into yours, the action causing you to gain extra height as you bounced on his dick.

“Shit, Tae,” you didn’t even have time to question his words as you were suddenly doubling over in pleasure, the upper half of your body bending at the waist and collapsing onto his chest as you let his thrusting hips take over and send your body to the seventh heaven; if you weren’t religious before, you definitely were now. “Shit, right there, don’t stop!”

Taehyung grunted as he followed your commands, each snap of his hips causing his dick to hit a spot deep inside of you that felt so glorious, so deliciously sweet, that you found yourself screaming out his name like a mantra on repeat. You were enjoying sex more than you ever had in your entire life—which albeit wasn’t saying much, but hell, it was still something.

“I love hearing you,” he groaned with a devilish grin at the sheer audacity of the pleasure that was overpowering him. “Do you like it when I fuck your tight little pussy? Answer me, Y/N.”

“Yes, yes I fucking love it,” you cried back as you clung to his chest for dear life, scratches and bite marks sure to be left on his skin from where you tried to hold yourself together, if only for your sheer sanity. “God Tae, don’t stop, it feels so fucking good!”

“Good–ah!–good girl.” His praise was interrupted by an involuntary clench of your walls, one that usually happened when you were either close to cumming or trying to coax them to their climax so it could be over with as soon as possible; this time, it just so happened to be the former.

“Taehyung… I’m…” you were barely able to get the words out between the heavy breaths that labored your chest and moans that spilled from your lips.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” His tone was rhetorical, almost patronizing, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a damn, what with the way the sweat was plastered to your forehead and your knees shook every time you tried to lift your hips up and bounce on his cock.

So all you could do was meekly nod, your face buried in his neck and your fingernails digging into his caramel skin while your best friend completely obliterated what was left of your sanity and your pussy.

“Oh my god, Taehyung–!” There was a flash of electrifying white light until there was suddenly nothing at all, your vision going momentarily blind as your earth shattering orgasm took over your body and sky rocketed your soul into a different dimension that not even you could comprehend. It took a few moments to realize that his thumb was on your clit, still vibrating away while you rode out the aftereffects of your euphoric high.

“Holy shit you’re tightening around me so fucking much.” Taehyung was a mess of mewls and moans that finally registered through your ears when you came back to reality. “I’m not gonna be able to last much longer.”

“Then let go.” You were panting, almost exhausted at this point from the whirlwind of bliss that your body just put you through, though that didn’t stop you from gritting your teeth and pressing your hands against his chest while you bounced your hips up and down on his length, each slap of your ass against his skin filling the room with lewd noises that you’re sure it never expected to hear coming from the two best friends that had spent years upon years of their childhood playing within its walls.

“Cum for me, Tae.”

That was all it took; one breathy command of your voice, and he was instantly melting like putty beneath your body.

Gasps of ah! and Y/N! tumbled from his lips like a never ending waterfall of ecstasy, each one shooting straight into your core as you felt his dick pulsate within you. There were sudden pauses from hot cum spilling into the covering of the condom that caused his hips to stutter, movement ceasing from every bone in his body before he was suddenly coming back to reality and gently pulling out of you.

“Holy shit, that was good.” Taehyung was rolling onto his back with a laugh and tugging the rubber off. “Next time I wanna try out the vibrator I bought. Oh, and one of the sex positions!”

You were gaping like a fish out of water as you scrambled to keep up with his words, not even having a second to process things before he was already talking about your next session. “O–oh, okay.” You were nodding your head and sitting up as well to grab your clothes. “So was I good, then? Any pointers?”

“You were fucking amaz–” Taehyung cut himself off as he realized what he was saying before his entire demeanor changed, a scoff that was obviously a facade falling from his lips as he nonchalantly shrugged. “I mean, you were alright, I guess. We’re definitely gonna have to practice again though to fix some more things.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh as you playfully swatted him before pulling on your underwear and bra. “Where’s my shorts?” You blurted out in amusement once you realized that he must’ve chucked them somewhere in the midst of your heated exchange.

After a few minutes of both of you searching the bedroom high and low, Tae finally found them abandoned beneath the skirt of the bed. “Sorry,” he chuckled as he held his own tshirt in his hands. “I’ll try to remember to throw it somewhere easily accessible next time.”

The sound of his laughter was bright and jubilant as the warm glow of the sunlight that was streaming in from the window behind him illuminated his skin, framing the outline of his body like a halo and shadowing the facial structure of his handsome–

Whoa. Handsome?

You had never called Taehyung handsome before. You always knew that he was, in an objective sort of way—but you had never viewed him like that personally.

And you still didn’t.

You quickly shook away your thoughts before refocusing back on your best friend. “Thank you. I don’t want to have to end up leaving here wearing your clothes. Nothing screams I just had sex more than that.”

“What, are you embarrassed of me?” He raised his eyebrow accusingly as if daring you to say yes, and though his actions were light and playful, you still couldn’t help but frown at this.

“Wait… you aren’t telling people about our arrangement, are you?”

“Not yet,” Taehyung answered. “I was gonna tell some of the guys but–”

“Please don’t.” You were blurting out before you could stop yourself. “The last thing I want is for people to find out I had to come to my best friend for sex advice. Especially Jimin. Can we just… keep this to ourselves?”

There was a slight pause while he frowned. “Why Jimin?” He asked with a tilt of his head in confusion.

You almost tutted in disbelief. “Tae, you know that I like Jimin. Why are you acting like this is new news?”

You friend blinked at you as he processed this information. “Why didn’t you just go to him for sex advice, then?”

“And have him never speak to me again because I’m terrible in bed and ruined our friendship? No thanks!”

“Oh, so you were okay with potentially ruining ours, then.” His words were more of a statement than a question as he crossed his arms and glared at you.

“What? No, I knew something like this wouldn’t ruin ours because you’re my best fucking friend, Tae.” Your expression softened as you took a step closer to him and held out your pinky finger. “Since we were five years old for life.”

The was a moment of silence as tension hung in the room while you waited for him to accept your gesture of friendship, though it wasn’t long before a tut fell from his lips and rang through the air. “Five years old for life,” he repeated, and then he was hooking his finger around yours and interlocking your pinkys, savoring this moment between you that embodied nothing but the strength of your bond and purity of your friendship.

“That has to be the weirdest thing I’ve ever said after sex,” he commented idly while the two of you continued getting dressed, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Maybe your deal with Taehyung wasn’t going to turn out to be such a mistake after all.

#btswriters #taehyung smut #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #im sorry ive taken so long to update!!#thank you guys for sticking with me <3

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freeyourheartandsoul · 7 years

Text

Dear No One.

Prompt: Writing challenge from @myteenwolf-world. Song: Tori Kelley “Dear No One” – Character: Scott McCall

Dear No One.

I like being independent Not so much of an investment No one to tell me what to do I like being by myself Don't gotta entertain anybody else No one to answer to.

(Y/N) was very independent. She’d practically raised herself from the age of fourteen to her present age of nineteen. A dead-beat dad and a mom who put her career first, she didn’t really have any other option. So, she got herself through school and managed to score a 4.0 GPA, which got her the hell out of Los Angeles and into UC Davis – the school she’d been dreaming of going to ever since she decided to be a veterinarian when she was twelve. Thanks to scholarships, (Y/N) only asked very little from her mom – to pay the rest of her tuition and books and first and last month’s rent for an apartment of her own. After that, (Y/N) found a job as an assistant at a small, local animal shelter so she could make the rest on her own.

That’s exactly what (Y/N) was doing. She was making it just fine on her own. She made just enough money to pay the few bills she had – rent, phone, internet and utilities (she didn’t have cable) – and still live comfortably. Plus, her mom insisted on sending her money once or twice a month even though (Y/N) had turned it down multiple times. She figured it had to do with reassuring that (Y/N) stayed in her life occasionally. (Y/N) didn’t have a problem with that so long as her mom didn’t start pushing to take control.

Living on her own wasn’t really a new concept to (Y/N). She’d been doing it for practically half of her life since her mom was rarely home. She’d grown to love it. The freedom it gave her. No one telling her what, when, or how to do something. It’s why she wanted an apartment on her own rather than in a dorm or with a roommate. She didn’t want to feel the need to please, entertain, or answer to anyone else. She could make her own house rules and her own schedule that didn’t revolve around anyone else.

She was able to be selfish with her time, which ultimately made her feel happier with herself.

She was perfectly content being alone.

But sometimes I just want somebody to hold Someone to give me their jacket when it's cold Got that young love even when we're old Yeah, sometimes I want someone to grab my hand Pick me up, pull me close, be my man I will love you 'til the end

As she walked around the campus day in and day out, though, (Y/N) started to feel something she’d never really felt before – loneliness. She’d see all the nauseating, but cute couples holding hands and kissing all over campus. She’d see the boyfriends and girlfriends who traveled near and far from their own school to visit their significant others. She’d see the love notes that her friends got from their boyfriends. She’d hear her friends gush over this and that. They’d go on double – even group – dates. It was all really starting to get to her.

(Y/N) started to wish sometimes that she had someone to not even be nauseatingly cute with, but just someone to be completely normal with. Someone she could talk to about the grade she got on a paper or about the hell that was her required Comparative Literature courses – she’s always been a math and science girl. Just someone to come home to and tell her everything would be okay. The more the loneliness etched into her brain, the more she realized she just wanted someone to love her.

She tried to push that to the back of her brain, though. After the tumultuous relationship that was her mom and dad, and the whirlwind of flings her mom had, (Y/N) was in no rush to commitment. That’s why she’d stayed as far away from relationships for this long. She’d dated a few guys in LA, but nothing that lasted longer than a few months, and nothing since her move to Davis. It just wasn’t on her list of priorities.

But none of that meant the thought never crossed her mind.

“Is anyone sitting here?” And it just so happened to be at the forefront of her mind as she waited on her Biology lab to start when someone’s voice tore her from her thoughts.

(Y/N) looked to her right and was met with a pair of chocolate eyes and a crooked jaw. He was cute in the adorable puppy kind of way, aka: exactly her type. “Um… no.” She managed to muster out as she shook her head.

This boy has only said four words to me and he has me flustered. What the hell? She thought to herself. No one had ever made her nearly stutter over her own words before.

The mysterious, dark haired boy slid into the seat beside her with an appreciative smile. “Thanks. I’m Scott.” He offered his hand and a boyish grin as soon as he got comfortable.

(Y/N) smiled back and shook his hand, “(Y/N).” It wasn’t until then that she realized she had never seen him in the class before and they were already two weeks in. “Are you in the right class? I’ve never seen you in here before.”

Scott chuckled as he nodded his head. “Yeah. There was some mix-up or something and they had me in the wrong class at first. Took me a couple weeks to finally get it fixed. Have I missed much?”

“A couple of labs and two days’ worth of notes. It’s only twice a week, so you haven’t missed too much. You should talk to the professor about making up the labs somehow, though. And I can catch you up on the notes.” (Y/N) explained. She had no idea what he was majoring in, but if it was the same as her, she could imagine that he wouldn’t want to get too behind.

His eyebrows shot up. “Really? You wouldn’t mind? You’d be a real life saver.” He said with his hopeful puppy eyes.

Damn, she was in trouble with this one already.

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders with an understanding smile. “Sure. It’s not a problem.”

“Thank you so much. I really don’t want to start the year off by getting behind. I swore to myself college would be different for me, and yet right off the bat I had to put my first semester on hold and sign up to take summer classes to make up for it.” He confessed with a huff as he pulled out a pencil, notebook, and his textbook.

“Not a fan of school?” She questioned out of curiosity as she doodled in her notebook.

“Nah, it wasn’t that. Some other things just had to take priority.” He corrected without going into detail.

She nodded her head a little, but still not looking in his direction. “I can understand that, I guess.” She paused for a minute, “well I can help keep you on track, if you want.” She offered before even thinking about what was spilling out of her mouth. She looked back at him with embarrassment written all over her face, “I... uh… I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I just meant…”

Scott couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped as he heard her heartbeat rise. “Thanks. I could probably use the help.” He confessed with an appreciative smile, trying to ease her nerves.

The heat in her cheeks began to vanish, but it didn’t completely disappear as she nodded. The professor walked in and started class not long after. However, as he drug on with the notes, the thoughts that consumed her before Scott sat next to her only intensified.

And maybe, just maybe, she wanted that with Scott McCall.

So if you're out there I swear to be good to you But I'm done lookin' for my future someone 'Cause when the time is right you'll be here, But for now, dear No One, This is your love song Ooh, oh, oh

The next few months seemed to fly by as (Y/N) balanced her job, her own school work, and helped Scott stay on track. They spent a lot of their free-time together and getting to know one another. For example, she learned that he wanted to be a veterinarian too and that his mentor was his boss all throughout high school in Beacon Hills. While he learned about her urgency to get out of Los Angeles and how she tends to bury herself in studies and work. She didn’t dare divulge into her family and commitment issues, though, nor did he share his werewolf secret with her.

All she knew was that the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. He made her want more. He made her crave the warmth of being held, and cared for, and loved. Not even because he had shown any sign that he was interested in her that way. Rather because he was just that good of a person as just a friend. He offered his jacket to her when he noticed chill bumps on her arms in class. He congratulated her with a giant bear hug when she got an A on that literature paper she struggled with, and he let her cry in his arms when her mom only sent her a check for her birthday – a vulnerability she had never shown to anyone before.

He had quickly become her best friend, but the fact that she craved more was slightly terrifying.

(Y/N) never said a word about it, though, nor did she make any effort to push it. She was a strong believer that if something was meant to happen, it would happen. So, she was choosing to believe that if she were meant to be with someone – or Scott, then it would happen on its own accord. She was finding the waiting game to be excruciating, though.

“So, are you going back to L.A. for Thanksgiving break?” Scott asked out of the blue as they sat down for coffee after their final class for the week.

“Not a chance.” (Y/N) said without missing a beat as she stifled a sarcastic laugh.

He looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, “why not? I know you sort of have a strained relationship with your mom, but don’t you want to see her?”

(Y/N) sighed a little as she stared down at the hot coffee in her mug. “Having her judge me for my life decisions and try to shove money down my throat to convince me to move back doesn’t sound too appealing to me. I’d rather stay in my tiny apartment and eat takeout.”

Scott sympathized with her. “Or… you can come back to Beacon Hills with me and have a nice home-cooked meal. My mom makes a pretty mean Thanksgiving dinner.” He suggested somewhat shyly as he stirred a little bit of cream into his coffee.

Her head shot up in surprise. The offer took her completely off guard and left her speechless. He was inviting her back to his hometown. To eat dinner with his family and friends. To meet his mom. Stop it, (Y/N). Do not read too much into it. She warned herself. She didn’t need to get herself worked up over nothing.

“I mean, you don’t have to. I just thought…” Scott began as he suddenly got nervous sensing her own nervousness. “You know… maybe you’d want some good food… and to not be alone on Thanksgiving.” He swallowed hard. “But it’s totally okay if you don’t want to.”

Normally, she didn’t mind being alone, even during the holidays, but the idea of spending one with Scott actually sounded refreshing. Plus, a good home-cooked meal sounded amazing. She could cook, but she wasn’t great at it – especially dinner foods like the ones served on Thanksgiving. She was more of a simple meals kind of girl, like pasta and burgers.

“No, that sounds great. I just… I wouldn’t want to impose.” She tried not to seem too eager.

Scott visibly relaxed as he shook his head. “Don’t worry. You wouldn’t be. My mom always makes more than enough food, and it usually turns into this big dinner party with my friends and their parents, especially now that everyone comes back from college.”

The thought of all these people that she didn’t know, made (Y/N) a little nervous, but she tried not to let it show. “Okay. As long as you’re sure.”

“And my friends are all really chill and accepting for the most part. So, you don’t need to be nervous about that either.” Scott said and it left her wondering how he practically read her mind. He reached across the table and placed his hand on top of her free one, instantly calming her. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

I don't really like big crowds I tend to shut people out I like my space, yeah But I'd love to have a soul mate And God'll give him to me someday And I know it'll be worth the wait, Oh So if you're out there I swear to be good to you But I'm done lookin', I'm done lookin' for my future someone 'Cause when the time is right you'll be here, But for now, dear No One Dear Nobody This is your love song

So, (Y/N) tagged along, nervous jitters and all. Scott tried his best to calm her nerves by reassuring her the whole way to Beacon Hills that everyone would love her. As much as she trusted him, his reassurance didn’t calm her nerves. Besides, it wasn’t really about his family and friends liking her, it was more about how it would change her relationship with Scott because she had no doubt in her mind that it would. And she was right.

The overall trip went fantastic. (Y/N) met his mom, his best friend - Stiles and his dad - Lydia and her mom, Malia and her dad, Liam and his parents, Mason, Hayden, some guy named Jordan, Derek, Isaac, and Scott’s old boss and mentor, Deaton. It was a full house, like Scott said it probably would be, and the food was delicious. They munched on turkey and dressing, rolls, sweet potato casserole, green beans, and so much more, including desert, until they couldn’t possibly eat anymore. (Y/N) listened as they all caught up with each other as if they didn’t talk on the phone all the time. She could tell that they were more than just friends, they were family, and that made her nearly break because she had never experienced anything like it.

However, thy dynamic between her and Scott changed. (Y/N) felt it the whole time she was there – as he introduced her to everyone, as they told their shared stories from UC Davis, and as he kept her close and kept an eye on her when she wasn’t right by his side. The more she realized it, the more it terrified her because, to her surprise, it felt nice. More than that, it felt right.

All the feelings running through her caused her to be silent nearly the whole way back to Davis. When Scott would ask if she was okay, she’d lie and say she was fine, just tired, but she’s almost positive he knew she was lying. He stayed quiet and let her pretend to sleep, though. He dropped her off at her apartment a week ago and they hadn’t spoken outside of class since. He hadn’t tried to call her and she definitely hadn’t tried to call him. She was shutting him out and running. That’s what she was used to. It’s what she was good at.

When she saw him walking towards her at a party the following Friday, panic started to rise. She tried to look around and think of how she could avoid him, but they had already locked eyes so he would know what she was doing. She knew this was going to happen eventually, she’d just hoped it wasn’t so soon when she was still trying to figure things out. But man, he looked good in his white t-shirt, dark denim jacket, and his hand stuffed in his black jeans.

“Hey.” Scott said when he stood in front of her.

“Hey. Didn’t expect to see you here…” She started to say more but he interrupted her.

“I bet. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have come.” He stated with an accusing look. Ouch. She didn’t expect him to call her out like that, so she just stood there look at him dumbfounded. “Am I right?”

All (Y/N) could do was stare at him. She could see the underlying hurt behind his accusatory eye and it made guilt wash over her like a flood. She never wanted to hurt him. Then, the walls started closing in around her as the crowd of the party and the onslaught of emotions set in. She never went to parties because she hated the crowd – another reason she chose to be alone most of the time. Now, here she was in the middle of one being confronted by the one person she really cared for about shutting him out. She couldn’t handle it.

So, she turned and ran. Scott called after her as she weaved through the people, and she could tell that he was following her because his voice never drifted farther away. She ran until she was away from the crowd and the panic had finally subsided. About two blocks down from the frat house party, she finally stopped and bent over with her hands on her knees as she calmed her breathing – thankful she was in jeans and comfortable shoes.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked not even a minute after she stopped. He had been hot on her heels the whole time.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” (Y/N) answered with a shaky breath, not moving her position to look at him.

Scott scoffed as he shook his head. “You don’t go running out of a party because you’re fine, (Y/N).”

“The crowd just got to me. I’m fine.” She stated as she finally stood up straight and looked at him. “See? Fine.”

“So, it wasn’t because I confronted you about avoiding me?” He questioned with scrutinizing eyes.

“Nope.” She lied.

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?” She questioned, getting defensive and putting her hands on her hips.

“I said, you’re a liar.” Scott responded without hesitation. “And a bad one at that.”

She glared at him and shook her head, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Scott thought for a minute about telling her about him being a werewolf and hearing her heartbeat rise, but he didn’t need her to freak out on him right now. “You clench your jaw when you lie.”

“What? No, I don’t.” She defended and had to force herself not to clench her jaw as she realized that she does indeed do that when she lies.

“Yes, you do, and I’m not arguing about it. You’ve been lying and shutting me out ever since Thanksgiving, and I want to know why.” He said as he finally got to the point of his mission tonight.

(Y/N) sighed as she looked at him. “If you haven’t noticed, Scott. I’m kind of a loner. I shut people out. It’s what I do.”

Scott shook his head, “no. I don’t think that’s it.”

“Oh? Then please enlighten me on what it is since you apparently know me so well.” She exaggerated as she flailed her arms.

“I think you’re afraid.” Scott replied without hesitation or remorse.

“Afraid of what?”

“Getting close to someone and caring about them. Me.” (Y/N) scoffed a little and rolled her eyes, avoiding looking at him. “You can avoid me and deny it all you want, (Y/N), but something changed between us last weekend, and you’re afraid of that. You’re afraid because you’re so used to being independent and alone and taking care of yourself and you don’t want to be like your parents.”

She tossed him a daggering glare. “You don’t know anything about my parents.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I know enough, though. Like I know that you never talk about your dad, nor does he ever call you. I know your mom seemingly only wants to throw money your way and control your life. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that they aren’t together.” She looked away from him, pushing the tears back in her eyes. “Clearly I pay more attention to you than you give me credit for.”

Scott stepped closer to her. “I’m not letting you push me away, (Y/N). I know that deep down you feel something for me, too, and you’re just too afraid of getting out of your comfort zone of being independent. Well, let me tell you, you can be with someone and still be independent.”

(Y/N) wiped a few tears that had slipped before she finally looked back him and whispered, “you don’t want to be with me, Scott.”

Scott took another step closer, nearly closing the distance between them. He lifted his hand to her cheek and wiped another stray tear as he looked into her eyes. “Yes, I do.” He whispered back before officially closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to hers in a sweet, but meaningful kiss that sent a bolt of electricity up her spine.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers as their eyes stayed closed. “I have since the first day I sat next to you in Bio lab.”

(Y/N) slowly opened her eyes only to be met with his sincere chocolate ones staring back at her with a soft smile on his face. She smiled back before wrapping her arms behind his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Her someone had finally found her.

Ooh, ooh Sometimes I just want somebody to hold Someone to give me their jacket when it's cold Got that young love even when we're old

(Y/N) shivered as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, silently cursing the maintenance man for not coming to fix the heat in the apartment yet. A week and a half without heat in the middle of winter was ridiculous. It didn’t help that she got cold easily. Not even the floor heaters were helping.

“Stupid maintenance man going on an ‘extended vacation’ in the middle of winter.” She mumbled to herself.

“Extended vacation sounds a lot like they fired him and still haven’t found a replacement.” Scott said as he walked down the hallway from the bedroom. “Here, put this on.” He said as he handed her his hoodie and sidled up beside her on the couch.

(Y/N) sat up a little and pulled her favorite hoodie over her head, instantly embracing its warmth and Scott’s aftershave. A smile tugged at her lips as she breathed it in. He had easily become one of her favorite scents. “Mm… thank you.”

Scott smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “Anytime, beautiful.”

She smiled back at him as she wrapped her arms around his torso and leaned in to give him a kiss of appreciation before snuggling into him. A little over a year together and he still gave her butterflies. He knew it, too, but she didn’t care. He turned her life around when he sat beside her in Bio lab. He showed her that it’s okay to not want to be alone – to need someone. He filled a void that she didn’t know was there.

“So, did you pick a movie?” Scott asked as he propped his legs up on the coffee table, to which she threw hers over his.

“Yup.” She stated as she grabbed the remote from the beside her and pressed the button for the Blu-Ray player to close. “Well, Stiles did.”

Scott threw his head back with a chuckle, “Star Wars.”

(Y/N) laughed with him. “He found out that I’ve never seen it either and he said he would kill us both if we didn’t watch it.”

“I would say we could just lie and say we did, but he would definitely grill us about it.” He said with a grin at knowing his best friend so well.

(Y/N) nodded. “Undoubtedly.”

Scott released a deep breath as he pulled (Y/N) even closer. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

She laughed a little. “Wait, let’s send him a SnapChat proving that we’re watching it… or at least attempting to.”

He nodded, “good idea.” He pulled out his phone and opened the app. He held up the phone and tapped the screen to pull up the filters on their faces. “Oh look, a wolf one… how ironic.” Scott said with a chuckle as he selected that one.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh. “We should definitely use that one.”

Scott nodded his head and hit the record button. “Look what we’re watching!” Scott said as (Y/N) gave a big grin next to him. Scott then switched the camera to face the tv where the Star Wars logo was showing. He faced the camera back to them and they both gave a quick thumbs up before the ten seconds was up.

They watched the short video back before Scott sent it to Stiles. “Okay. Ready?” (Y/N) asked as she pointed the remote toward the TV with her finger hovering over the play button.

“No.” Scott said somewhat seriously.

She giggled and leaned up a little to kiss him on the cheek. “It’ll be okay.” She pressed play as he kissed her forehead.

About halfway through the movie, Scott got a SnapChat reply from Stiles. He opened it only to see a picture of Stiles with an arched eyebrow and the caption “that doesn’t prove anything.” Scott couldn’t help but laugh and show (Y/N) who burst out laughing as well. Scott hit the reply button and faced the camera towards the movie playing and recorded for the ten seconds without saying anything and hit send.

Minutes later, Scott got another notification from him. Scott opened the app and his response. “Oh, my God! Okay, it’s happening!” Stiles yelled, then it led into another response. “Everybody stay calm! Everybody, stay calm!” Stiles was running around his apartment and you could see Lydia in the background shaking her head at his crazy antics. Another response played right after that, “Everybody just calm fucking down!” Stiles continued to yell as he ran around like Steve Carrell on The Office.

Scott and (Y/N) were both dying of laughter. “That is your best friend.” (Y/N) said through the laughter.

“I know, and that right there is why.” Scott said still laughing at how much of an idiot his best friend was. Instead of responding, he put his phone away and focused back on the movie.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” (Y/N) asked as they both stared at the television.

“Not a clue.” Scott responded with a straight face.

“He’s going to kill us.”

“Probably.” They both laughed again and tried to focus and figure out what was happening in the movie. They spent the rest of the night trying to watch as many Star Wars movies as they could before falling asleep in each other’s arms on the couch.

Yeah, sometimes I want someone to grab my hand Pick me up, pull me close, be my man I will love you 'til the end So if you're out there I swear to be good to you But I'm done lookin', I'm done lookin' for my future someone 'Cause when the time is right you'll be here, But for now, dear No One, dear Nobody This is your love song This is your love song Dear No One, no need to be searchin', no Dear No One. Dear No One. Dear No One, this is your love song

With a lot of hard work and luck, Scott and (Y/N) survived four years of UC Davis together. More than that though, they both made it into their School of Veterinary Medicine and were ready to start in the fall. First though, they deserved a celebratory summer, which was exactly what they had planned. Between the two of them, they had managed to save up enough money to go on a mini roadtrip down the coast for a couple weeks. Their first stop was San Francisco where they hit up the Golden Gate Bridge, Golden Gate Park, Fisherman’s Wharf, and (Y/N) insisted on seeing the Full House house and riding the cable cars. Their final stop was Los Angeles, where they paid a short visit to her mom and did everything touristy – Universal Studios, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Griffith Park, they hiked to the Hollywood sign, and even spent a few days at Disneyland. Scott had never been to LA, so she wanted to make sure she gave him the full tourist experience.

It was their last night before they had to drive back up to Beacon Hills and they wanted to make the most of it. So, they spent the day at Venice Beach and walked down the boardwalk to Santa Monica Pier where they grabbed dinner, played a couple of games, and rode a few rides. She won Scott a giant tie-dye gorilla, while he managed to win her a giant stuffed wolf.

“To remind you of me.” He said with a cheesy grin as he handed it to her.

She looked up at him with a cute grin before leaning up on her toes a little to reward him with a kiss. “I love it.”

He grinned down at her, “as much as you love me?”

(Y/N) smiled and dropped the wolf beside their feet so she could lean up and wrap her arms behind his neck. “Not even close.” She whispered as she looked him dead in the eye before pressing her lips to his again.

They didn’t part until their lungs started burning for air. He had dropped his stuffed animal on the opposite side so he could pull her closer. “Wanna watch the sunset from the Ferris wheel?”

Her eyes lit up as a smile spread across her face. “You bet I do.” Then she looked down at their feet and saw the giant stuffed animals. “There’s no way those will both fit with us.” She said with sort of a pout.

Scott shook his head, “I’ll take care of it.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the ride after they grabbed the stuffed toys. “Hold our spot in line. I’ll be right back.” Scott said as he took the toys and walked up to the guy in charge.

(Y/N) watched as he talked to the guy, probably asking him to the hold the stuffed animals for them. The guy looked at Scott for a minute and then his eyes landed on her and then back to Scott before he nodded his head. He took the toys from Scott and put them on top of a table behind him as Scott walked back to (Y/N).

“Well, aren’t you a smooth talker.” She said with a laugh.

Scott took her hand and smiled, “it got me you, didn’t it?”

“Ha. Ha.” She responded as she shook her head.

It didn’t take long for it to finally be their turn. They climbed inside and waited for the wheel to slowly take them to the top as others boarded. No matter which way they looked, though, they saw the beautiful sun setting behind the ocean. The sky had beautiful shades of pink, orange, blue, and purple. Down below them, they could see all the lights of the rides and games.

“Wow. I can’t believe I’ve never thought to do this.” (Y/N) said as she looked out at the beautiful sight in front of her. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Scott was silent beside her, which she thought was weird. When she turned to look at him, he wasn’t even looking at the sunset, instead, he was looking down at his lap as if he were trying to think of something. “Scott?”

He finally looked back at her. “What? Oh. Yeah, it’s a beautiful sunset.”

(Y/N) eyed him with furrowed eyebrows. “You weren’t even looking.” She said as the wheel moved to the top and stopped.

“That’s because I’m nervous.” He confessed.

“What? Why? You’re not afraid of heights.” She knew that for a fact, so she didn’t know what he would be nervous about.

“No, but I am nervous about this.” Scott reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black box, causing (Y/N) to gasp a little. He grabbed her left hand and held it in his. “Sorry, my palms are sweaty.” He apologized before releasing her hand and wiping it on his jeans. (Y/N) was speechless.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat before looking directly into her eyes. “(Y/N), I know you like being independent and you like to believe you’re a loner, well you used to at least. But I also know that I give you butterflies, and you like waking up in my arms and wearing my hoodie, and that you were secretly wishing for someone to do all these things with before I came along.”

Scott let out a shaky breath as he looked down at their intertwined hands and back up at her. “The day I sat beside you in Bio lab and you rambled about how you could keep me on track, my heart skipped a beat or two, and I knew you were about to change my life. Four years later and my heart still skips a beat or two because I am so in love with you.”

“So, I know it’s terrifying, for you and me both,” he continued as he opened the little black box. “but I hope you’ll take this leap of faith with me and make me…”

He was about to finish, but (Y/N) crashed her lips to his in a searing kiss that caught him completely off guard. “Yes. A million times yes.” She answered without even letting him ask the question she knew was coming.

“You didn’t even let me ask.” He said a little bit awestruck.

A blush rose to her now tear stained cheeks, “sorry.”

He smiled at how adorable she was. “Even though you’ve already answered me… will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He finally asked, his adorable brown puppy eyes practically pleading with her like he didn’t already know the answer.

She smiled from ear to ear, “yes. A million times yes.”

A smile that mirrored hers spread across Scott’s face. He took the princess cut ring out of the box and gently slid it on her finger – a perfect fit. He pulled her in for their most meaningful kiss yet as the Ferris wheel began to take them back down – their lips barely parting the whole way. When it was their turn to exit the ride, he pulled her by the hand to an open area and wrapped his arms around her waist as hers wrapped behind his neck and their lips met once again. He lifted her up and spun her around as she squealed in happiness and excitement.

She had finally found her future someone.

The End.

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