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hopelesslys-world · 1 year

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50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH. 5

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐌 momentarily disoriented. Oh yes. I’m at The Heathman. The clock at my bedside says 7:43. When was the last time I slept this late?

Y/N.

Slowly I turn my head, and she’s fast asleep, facing me. Her beautiful face soft in repose. I have never slept with a woman. I’ve fucked many, but to wake up beside an alluring young woman is a new and stimulating experience. My cock agrees.

This will not do.

Reluctantly, I climb out of bed and change into my running gear. I need to burn off this…excess energy. As I change into my sweats I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well. In the living room, I fire up my laptop, check my e-mail, and respond to two from Ros and one from Andrea. It takes me a little longer than usual¸ as I’m distracted knowing that Y/N is asleep in the next room. I wonder how she’ll feel when she wakes.

Hungover. Ah.

In the minibar I find a bottle of orange juice and empty it into a glass. She’s still asleep when I enter, her hair a riot of mahogany spread across her pillow, and the covers have slipped below her waist. Her shirt has ridden up, exposing her belly and her navel. The sight stirs my body once more.

Stop standing here ogling the girl, for fuck’s sake, Grey.

I have to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Placing the glass on the bedside table, I duck into the bathroom, find two Advil in my travel kit, and deposit them beside the glass of orange juice.

With one last lingering look at Y/N Y/L/N—the first woman I’ve ever slept with—I head out for my run.

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When I return from my exercise, there’s a bag in the living room from a store I don’t recognize. I take a peek and see it contains clothes for Y/N. From what I can see, Taylor has done well—and all before 9:00. The man is a marvel.

Her purse is on the sofa where I dropped it last night, and the door to the bedroom is closed, so I assume she’s not left and that she’s still asleep.

It’s a relief. Poring over the room-service menu, I decide to order some food. She’ll be hungry when she wakes, but I have no idea what she’ll eat, so in a rare moment of indulgence I order a selection from the breakfast menu. I’m informed it will take half an hour.

Time to wake the delectable Miss Y/L/N; she’s slept enough.

Grabbing my workout towel and the shopping bag, I knock on the door and enter. To my delight, she’s sitting up in bed. The tablets are gone and so is the juice.

Good girl.

She pales as I saunter into the room.

Keep it casual, Grey. You don’t want to be charged with kidnapping.

She closes her eyes, and I assume it’s because she’s embarrassed.

“Good morning, Y/N. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I deserve,” she mutters, as I place the bag on the chair. When she turns her gaze to me her eyes are the most beautiful and though her hair is a tangled mess…she looks stunning.

“How did I get here?” she asks, as though she’s afraid of the answer.

Reassure her, Grey.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and stick to the facts. “After you passed out, I didn’t want to risk the leather upholstery in my car, taking you all the way to your apartment. So I brought you here.”

“Did you put me to bed?”

“Yes.”

“Did I throw up again?”

“No.” Thank God.

“Did you undress me?”

“Yes.” Who else would have undressed you?

She blushes, and at last she has some color in her cheeks. Perfect teeth bite down on her lip. I suppress a groan.

“We didn’t—?” she whispers, staring at her hands.

Christ, what kind of animal does she think I am? “Y/N, you were comatose. Necrophilia is not my thing.” My tone is dry. “I like my women sentient and receptive.” She sags with relief, which makes me wonder if this has happened to her before, that she’s passed out and woken up in a stranger’s bed and found out he’s fucked her without her consent. Maybe that’s the photographer’s modus operandi. The thought is disturbing. But I recall her confession last night—that she’d never been drunk before. Thank God she hasn’t made a habit of this.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice full of shame.

Hell. Maybe I should go easy on her. “It was a very diverting evening. Not one that I’ll forget in a while.” I hope that sounds conciliatory, but her brow creases.

“You didn’t have to track me down with whatever James Bond gadgetry you’re developing for the highest bidder.”

Whoa! Now she’s pissed. Why?

“First, the technology to track cell phones is available over the Internet.” Well, the Deep Net…

“Second, my company does not invest or manufacture any kind of surveillance devices.” My temper is fraying, but I’m on a roll. “And third, if I hadn’t come to get you, you’d probably be waking up in the photographer’s bed, and from what I can remember, you weren’t overly enthused about him pressing his suit.”

She blinks a couple of times, then starts giggling. She’s laughing at me again.

“Which medieval chronicle did you escape from? You sound like a courtly knight.”

She’s beguiling. She’s calling me out…again, and her irreverence is refreshing, really refreshing. However, I’m under no illusion that I’m a knight in shining armor. Boy, has she got the wrong idea. And though it may not be to my advantage, I’m compelled to warn her that there’s nothing chivalrous or courtly about me.

“Y/N, I don’t think so. Dark knight, maybe.” If only she knew—and why are we discussing me? I change the subject. “Did you eat last night?” She shakes her head.

I knew it!

“You need to eat. That’s why you were so ill. Honestly, it’s drinking rule number one.”

“Are you going to continue to scold me?”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“I think so.”

“You’re lucky I’m just scolding you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday. You didn’t eat, you got drunk, you put yourself at risk.” The fear in my gut surprises me; such irresponsible, risk-taking behavior. “I hate to think what could have happened to you.”

She scowls. “I would have been fine. I was with Bella.”

Some help she was!

“And the photographer?” I retort.

“José just got out of line,” she says, dismissing my concern and tossing her tangled hair over her shoulder.

“Well, the next time he gets out of line, maybe someone should teach him some manners.”

“You’re quite the disciplinarian,” she snaps.

“Oh, Y/N, you have no idea.”

An image of her; shackled to my bench, peeled gingerroot inserted in her ass so she can’t clench her buttocks, comes to mind, followed by judicious use of a belt or strap. Yeah…That would teach her not to be so irresponsible. The thought is hugely appealing.

She’s staring at me wide-eyed and dazed, and it makes me uncomfortable. Can she read my mind? Or is she just looking at a pretty face.

“I’m going to have a shower. Unless you’d like to shower first?” I tell her, but she continues to gape. Even with her mouth open she’s quite lovely. She’s hard to resist, and I grant myself permission to touch her, tracing the line of her cheek with my thumb. Her breath catches in her throat as I stroke her soft bottom lip.

“Breathe, Y/N,” I murmur, before I stand and inform her that breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes. She says nothing, her mouth silent for once.

In the bathroom I take a deep breath, strip, and climb into the shower. I’m half tempted to jerk off, but the familiar fear of discovery and disclosure, from an earlier time in my life, stops me.

Elena would not be pleased. Old habits.

As the water cascades over my head I reflect on my latest interaction with the challenging Miss Y/L/N. She’s still here, in my bed, so she cannot find me completely repulsive. I noticed the way her breath caught in her throat, and how her gaze followed me around the room.

Yeah. There’s hope.

But would she make a good submissive?

It’s obvious she knows nothing of the lifestyle. She couldn’t even say “fuck” or “sex” or whatever bookish college students use as a euphemism for fucking these days. She’s quite the innocent. She’s probably been subjected to a few fumbling encounters with boys like the photographer.

The thought of her fumbling with anyone irks me. I could just ask her if she’s interested.

No. I’d have to show her what she’d be taking on if she agreed to a relationship with me. Let’s see how we both fare over breakfast.

Rinsing off the soap, I stand beneath the hot stream and gather my wits for round two with Y/N. I switch off the water and, stepping out of the shower, grab a towel. A quick check in the steamed-up mirror and I decide to skip shaving today. Breakfast will be here shortly, and I’m hungry. Quickly I brush my teeth.

When I open the bathroom door she’s out of bed and searching for her jeans. She looks up like the archetypal startled fawn, all long legs and big eyes.

“If you’re looking for your skirt, I’ve sent it to the laundry.” She really has great legs. Her skirts give them and her a lot of credit. Her eyes narrow, and I think she’s going to argue with me, so I tell her why. “It was spattered with your vomit.”

“Oh,” she says.

Yes. “Oh.” Now, what do you have to say to that, Miss Y/L/N?

“I sent Taylor out for another pair and some shoes. They’re in the bag on the chair.” I nod at the shopping bag. She raises her eyebrows—in surprise, I think. “Um. I’ll have a shower,” she mutters, and then as an afterthought she adds, “Thanks.”

Grabbing the bag, she dodges around me, darts into the bathroom, and locks the door. Hmm…she couldn’t get into the bathroom quick enough. Away from me. Perhaps I’m being too optimistic.

Disheartened, I briskly dry off and get dressed. In the living room I check my e-mail, but there’s nothing urgent. I’m interrupted by a knock on the door. Two young women have arrived from room service.

“Where would you like breakfast, sir?”

“Set it up on the dining table.”

Walking back into the bedroom, I catch their furtive looks, but I ignore them and suppress the guilt I feel over how much food I’ve ordered. We’ll never eat it all.

“Breakfast is here,” I call, and rap on the bathroom door.

“O-okay.” Y/N’s voice sounds a little muted.

Back in the living room, our breakfast is on the table. One of the women, who has dark, dark eyes, hands me the check to sign, and from my wallet I pull a couple of twenties for them.

“Thank you, ladies.”

“Just call room service when you want the table cleared, sir,” Miss Dark Eyes says with a coquettish look, as if she’s offering more.

My chilly smile warns her off. Sitting down at the table with the newspaper, I pour myself a coffee and make a start on my omelet. My phone buzzes—a text from Elliot.

Bella wants to know if Y/N is still alive.

I chuckle, somewhat mollified that Y/N’s so-called friend is thinking about her. It’s obvious that Elliot hasn’t given his dick a rest after all his protestations yesterday. I text back.

Alive and kicking ;)

Y/N appears a few moments later: hair wet, in the pretty shirt that matches her eyes. Taylor has done well; she looks lovely. Scanning the room, she spots her purse.

“Crap, Bella!” she blurts.

“She knows you’re here and still alive. I texted Elliot.”

She gives me an uncertain smile as she walks toward the table.

“Sit,” I say, pointing to the place that’s been set for her. She frowns at the amount of food on the table, which only accentuates my guilt.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a selection from the breakfast menu,” I mutter by way of an apology.

“That’s very profligate of you,” she says.

“Yes, it is.” My guilt blooms. But as she opts for the pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon with maple syrup, and tucks in, I forgive myself. It’s good to see her eat.

“Tea?” I ask.

“Yes, please,” she says between mouthfuls. She’s obviously famished. I pass her the small teapot of water. She gives me a sweet smile when she notices the Twinings English Breakfast tea.

I have to catch my breath at her expression. And it makes me uneasy. It gives me hope.

“Your hair’s very damp,” I observe.

“I couldn’t find the hair dryer,” she says, embarrassed.

She’ll get sick.

“Thank you for the clothes,” she adds.

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N. That color suits you.”

She stares down at her fingers.

“You know, you really should learn to take a compliment.”

Perhaps she doesn’t get many…but why? She’s gorgeous in an understated way.

“I should give you some money for these clothes.”

What?

I glare at her, and she continues quickly, “You’ve already given me the books, which, of course, I can’t accept. But these, please let me pay you back.”

Sweetheart. “Y/N, trust me, I can afford it.”

“That’s not the point. Why should you buy these for me?”

“Because I can.” I’m a very rich man, Y/N.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean that you should.” Her voice is soft, but suddenly I’m wondering if she’s looked through me and seen my darkest desires. “Why did you send me the books, Christian?”

Because I wanted to see you again, and here you are… “Well, when you were nearly run over by the cyclist—and I was holding you and you were looking up at me—all ‘kiss me, kiss me, Christian’—” I stop, recalling that moment, her body pressed against mine.

Shit. Quickly I shrug off the memory. “I felt I owed you an apology and a warning. Y/N, I’m not a hearts-and-flowers kind of man. I don’t do romance. My tastes are very singular. You should steer clear of me. There’s something about you, though, and I’m finding it impossible to stay away. But I think you’ve figured that out already.”

“Then don’t,” she whispers.

What? “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Enlighten me, then.” Her words travel straight to my cock.

Fuck.

“You’re not celibate?” she asks.

“No, Y/N, I’m not celibate.” And if you’d let me tie you up I’d prove it to you right now. Her eyes widen and her cheeks pink.

Oh, Y/N.

I have to show her. It’s the only way I’ll know. “What are your plans for the next few days?” I ask.

“I’m working today, from midday. What time is it?” she exclaims in panic.

“It’s just after ten; you’ve plenty of time. What about tomorrow?”

“Bella and I are going to start packing. We’re moving to Seattle next weekend, and I’m working at Clayton’s all this week.”

“You have a place in Seattle already?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I can’t remember the address. It’s in the Pike Market District.”

“Not far from me.” Good! “So what are you going to do for work in Seattle?”

“I’ve applied for some internships. I’m waiting to hear.”

“Have you applied to my company, as I suggested?”

“Um…no.”

“And what’s wrong with my company?”

“Your company or your company?” She arches an eyebrow.

“Are you smirking at me, Miss Y/L/N?” I can’t hide my amusement.

Oh, she’d be a joy to train…challenging, maddening woman. She examines her plate, chewing at her lip.

“I’d like to bite that lip,” I whisper, because it’s true.

Her face flies to mine and she shuffles in her seat. She tilts her chin toward me, her eyes full of confidence. “Why don’t you?” she says quietly.

Oh. Don’t tempt me, baby. I can’t. Not yet.

“Because I’m not going to touch you, Y/N—not until I have your written consent to do so.”

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“Exactly what I say. I need to show you, Y/N.” So you know what you’re getting yourself into.

“What time do you finish work this evening?”

“About eight.”

“Well, we could go to Seattle this evening or next Saturday for dinner at my place, and I’ll acquaint you with the facts then. The choice is yours.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

“Because I’m enjoying my breakfast and your company. Once you’re enlightened, you probably won’t want to see me again.”

She frowns as she processes what I’ve said. “Tonight,” she says.

Whoa. That didn’t take long.

“Like Eve, you’re so quick to eat from the tree of knowledge,” I taunt her.

“Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey?” she asks.

I look at her through narrowed eyes. Okay, baby, you asked for this. I pick up my phone and press Taylor on speed dial. He answers almost immediately.

“Mr. Grey.”

“Taylor. I’m going to need Charlie Tango.”

She watches me closely as I make arrangements to bring my EC135 to Portland. I’ll show her what I have in mind…and the rest will be up to her. She may want to come home once she knows. I’ll need Stephan, my pilot, to be on standby so he can bring her back to Portland if she decides to have nothing more to do with me. I hope that’s not the case. And it dawns on me that I’m thrilled that I can take her to Seattle in Charlie Tango. It’ll be a first.

“Standby pilot from 22:30,” I confirm with Taylor and hang up.

“Do people always do what you tell them?” she asks, and the disapproval in her voice is obvious. Is she scolding me now? Her challenge is annoying.

“Usually, if they want to keep their jobs.” Don’t question how I treat my staff.

“And if they don’t work for you?” she adds.

“I can be very persuasive, Y/N. You should finish your breakfast. And then I’ll drop you off at home. I’ll pick you up at Clayton’s at eight when you finish. We’ll fly up to Seattle.”

“Fly?”

“Yes. I have a helicopter.”

Her mouth drops open, forming a small o. It’s a pleasing moment. “We’ll go by helicopter to Seattle?” she whispers.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” I grin. Sometimes it’s just fucking great to be me. “Finish your breakfast.”

She seems stunned.

“Eat!” My voice is more forceful. “Y/N, I have an issue with wasted food. Eat.”

“I can’t eat all this.” She studies all the food on the table and I feel guilty once more. Yes, there is too much food here.

“Eat what’s on your plate. If you’d eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be declaring my hand so soon.”

Hell. This could be a huge mistake.

She gives me a sideways look as she chases her food around on the plate with a fork, and her mouth twitches.

“What’s so funny?”

She shakes her head and pops the last piece of pancake into her mouth, and I try not to laugh. As ever, she surprises me. She’s awkward, unexpected, and disarming. She really makes me want to laugh, and what’s more, it’s at myself.

“Good girl,” I mutter. “I’ll take you home when you’ve dried your hair. I don’t want you getting ill.”

You’ll need all your strength for tonight, for what I have to show you. Suddenly, she gets up from the table and I have to stop myself from telling her that she doesn’t have permission.

She’s not your submissive…yet, Grey.

On the way back to the bedroom, she pauses by the sofa. “Where did you sleep last night?” she asks.

“In my bed.” With you.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, it was quite a novelty for me, too.”

“Not having…sex.”

She said the s-word…and the telltale pink cheeks appear.

“No.” How can I tell her this, without it sounding weird? Just tell her, Grey.

“Sleeping with someone.” Nonchalantly, I turn my attention back to the sports section and the write-up on last night’s game, then watch as she disappears into the bedroom.

No, that didn’t sound weird at all. Well, I have another date with Miss Y/L/N. No, not a date. She needs to know about me. I let out a long breath and drink what’s left of my orange juice. This is shaping up to be a very interesting day.

I’m pleased when I hear the buzz of the hair dryer and surprised that she’s doing what she’s been told.

While I’m waiting for her, I phone the valet to bring my car up from the garage and check her address once more on Google Maps. Next, I text Andrea to send me an NDA via e-mail; if Y/N wants enlightenment, she’ll need to keep her mouth shut. My phone buzzes. It’s Ros.

As I’m on the phone, Y/N emerges from the bedroom and picks up her purse. Ros is talking about Darfur, but my attention is on Miss Y/N. She rummages around in her purse and she’s pleased when she finds a hair tie.

Her hair is beautiful. Lush. Long. Thick. Idly, I wonder what it would be like to braid. She ties it back on a low delicate ponytail, a few strands of hair decorates her face and puts on her jacket, then sits down on the sofa, waiting for me to finish my call.

“Okay, let’s do it. Keep me abreast of progress.” I conclude my conversation with Ros. She’s been working miracles and it looks like our food shipment to Darfur is happening.

“Ready to go?” I ask her. She nods. I grab my jacket and car keys and follow her out the door. She peeks at me through long lashes as we walk toward the elevator, and her lips curl into a shy smile. My lips twitch in response.

What the hell is she doing to me?

The elevator arrives, and I allow her to step in first. I press the first-floor button and the doors close. In the confines of the elevator, I’m completely aware of her. A trace of her sweet fragrance invades my senses…Her breathing alters, hitching a little, and she peeks up at me with a bright come-hither look.

Shit.

She bites her lip. She’s doing this on purpose. And for a split second I’m lost in her sensual, mesmerizing stare. She doesn’t back down.

I’m hard.

Instantly.

I want her.

Here.

Now.

In the elevator.

“Oh, fuck the paperwork.” The words come from nowhere and on instinct I grab her and push her against the wall. Clasping both her hands, I pin them above her head so she can’t touch me, and once she’s secure, I twist my other hand in her hair while my lips seek and find hers.

She moans into my mouth, the call of a siren, and finally I can sample her: mint and tea and an orchard of mellow fruitfulness. She tastes every bit as good as she looks. Reminding me of a time of plenty. Good Lord. I’m yearning for her. I grasp her chin, deepening the kiss, and her tongue tentatively touches mine…exploring. Considering. Feeling. Kissing me back.

Oh, God in heaven.

I'm completely intoxicated, punch-drunk with her scent and taste.

The elevator stops and the doors begin to open. Get a fucking grip, Grey.

I push myself off her and stand beyond her reach.

She’s breathing hard. As am I.

When was the last time I lost control? Three men in business suits give us knowing looks as they join us. And I stare at the poster that’s above the buttons in the elevator advertising a sensual weekend at The Heathman. I glance at Y/N and exhale.

She grins. And my lips twitch once more.

What the fuck has she done to me?

The elevator stops at the second floor and the guys get out, leaving me alone with Miss Y/N/L.

“You’ve brushed your teeth,” I observe with wry amusement.

“I used your toothbrush,” she says, eyes shining. Of course she has…and for some reason, I find this pleasing, too pleasing. I stifle my smile. “Y/N Y/L/N, what am I going to do with you?” I take her hand as the elevator doors open on the ground floor, and I mutter under my breath, “What is it about elevators?”

She gives me a knowing look as we stroll across the polished marble of the lobby. The car is waiting in one of the bays in front of the hotel; the valet is pacing impatiently. I give him an obscene tip and open the passenger door for Y/N, who is quiet and introspective.

But she hasn’t run.

Even though I jumped her in the elevator. I should say something about what happened in there—but what? Sorry?

How was that for you? What the hell are you doing to me?

I start the car and decide that the less said, the better. The soothing sound of Delibes’s “Flower Duet” fills the car and I begin to relax.

“What are we listening to?” Y/N inquires, as I turn onto Southwest Jefferson Street. I tell her and ask her if she likes it. “Christian, it’s wonderful.”

To hear my name on her lips is a strange delight. She’s said it about half a dozen times now, and each time it’s different. Today, it’s with wonder—at the music. It’s great that she likes this piece: it’s one of my favorites. I find myself beaming; she’s obviously excused me for the elevator outburst. “Can I hear that again?”

“Of course.” I tap the touch screen to replay the music.

“You like classical music?” she asks, as we cross the Fremont Bridge, and we fall into an easy conversation about my taste in music. While we’re talking I get a call on the hands-free.

“Grey,” I answer.

“Mr. Grey, it’s Welch here. I have the information you require.” Oh yes, details about the photographer.

“Good. E-mail it to me. Anything to add?”

“No, sir.”

I press the button and the music is back. We both listen, now lost in the raw sound of the Kings of Leon. But it doesn’t last long—our listening pleasure is disturbed once more by the hands-free. What the hell?

“Grey,” I snap.

“The NDA has been e-mailed to you, Mr. Grey.”

“Good. That’s all, Andrea.”

“Good day, sir.”

I sneak a look at Y/N, to see if she’s picked up on that conversation, but she’s studying the Portland scenery. I suspect she’s being polite. It’s difficult to keep my eyes on the road. I want to stare at her.

For all her maladroitness, she has a beautiful neckline, one that I’d like to kiss from the bottom of herear right down to her shoulder. Hell. I shuffle in my seat. I hope she agrees to sign the NDA and to take what I have to offer. When we join I-5 I get another call.

It’s Elliot.

“Hi, Christian, d’you get laid?”

Oh…smooth, dude, smooth.

“Hello, Elliot—I’m on speakerphone, and I’m not alone in the car.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N”

“Hi, Y/N!”

“Hello, Elliot,” she says, animated.

“Heard a lot about you,” Elliot says.

Shit. What has he heard?

“Don’t believe a word Bella says,” she responds good-naturedly.

Elliot laughs.

“I’m dropping Y/N off now. Do you want me to pick you up?” I interject.

There’s no doubt Elliot will want to make a quick getaway. “Sure.”

“See you shortly.” I say.

And in that moment I think about how I know that her rejection, when it comes, will be hard to take. It’s happened before, but I’ve never felt this…invested. I don’t even know this girl, but I want to know her, all of her.

Maybe it’s because I’ve never chased a woman. Grey, get control of yourself and follow the rules, otherwise this will all go to shit.

“Y/N,” I say, ignoring her disapproving look. “What happened in the elevator—it won’t happen again—well, not unless it’s premeditated.”

That keeps her quiet as I park outside her apartment. Before she can answer me I climb out of the car, walk around and open her door.

As she steps onto the sidewalk, she gives me a fleeting glance. “I liked what happened in the elevator,” she says.

You did? Her confession halts me in my tracks. I’m pleasantly surprised again by little Miss Y/L/N.

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#christian grey #christian grey fanfic #christian grey smut #christian grey x reader #christian grey x yn #christian grey x you #jamie dornan #50 shades of gray #smut

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nothing-at-the-moment · 2 years

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Rewrite The Stars VI

Pairing: James Potter x Hufflepuff!Reader

The night had ended with the hope that the morning would bring answers and clarity. And maybe some orange juice.

Morning rolled about, the mind still clouded with questions, dread, and pain and a weird sense of melancholy.

The day passed by in a blur. None of them really had any idea what happened the previous day. Not Remus, not James and certainly not Y/N. The only thing worth noticing was Y/N received a letter from her Uncle Newt with a package of freshly made food for Calypso. She had been running out.

Remus didn’t know what to feel. He had liked Y/N and he felt when he was with her. But knowing what he knows now, he realized how it had always felt off. There were a lot of discontinuities. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Y/N wasn’t his soulmate. Granted it was only for a couple of days but it had been the best couple of days. His wrist still buzzed with his soulmate’s thoughts, whoever they might be. But Remus never really looked. He knew it was unfair to whoever was his soulmate but he couldn’t help it.

Naturally, his friends were worried.

Sirius who had been there when it happened had seen how horrified Moony had been. He had tried to help with the good old “plenty of fish in the sea” and the “your soulmate is still out there waiting for you.” He even tried anger. Peter had helped too. He didn’t speak much. He was there. He’d slip some chocolate or maybe some dessert to Moony with a small pat on his back as he laid in his bed. It did make him feel a little bit better.

James however, was drowning in guilt. He knew it wasn’t his fault. None of this was supposed to happen. It was just a giant mistake or maybe a huge misunderstanding. It was always Moony for Y/N. It was never James. James wasn’t even in the ballpark for Y/N. The two have been crushing on each other since third year for god’s sake! Soulmates are supposed to spend forever together smiling, laughing, loving. He could never have that with Y/N.

Sure, she did make him smile when he talked to her through thoughts and even a simple random animal fact from her would be enough to brighten his whole day. But that was before. Before he knew it was Y/N. Moony’s Y/N. He has hated her for so long, how could the universe think that they would be able to spend eternity together without ripping each other to shreds? His soulmate made him happy. Y/N did not. It was all wrong.

Y/N though of every encounter she has had with her soulmate. Every conversation, every dream, every thought, every promise, even every fight. Crazy, she had thought him to be. Remus was never it. Her soulmate was absolutely bonkers. How did she ever think it was Remus? But she wants it to be Remus. No matter how much she revels in the craziness of her soulmate’s love, Remus’s warmth and comfort and soft love was something she had never experienced before. Sirius had tried to talk to her once. Now she had never really held up any conversation with any of The Marauders besides Remus that contained more than two sentences. Unless you count the endless bickering with James.

James. It hurt to think about him. It hurt to think about him as her soulmate. She had spent years trying to put an identity to the inky thoughts on her skin, the various feelings on her wrist and the improbable dreams that had the worst representation of art on her skin ever. She felt happy when she thought it was Remus. She felt destroyed when she found out it was James. She had found him after years of searching and yearning and longing. But now she didn’t want him.

She knew he loved his soulmate very much. The happiest she has seen him was when he was animatedly talking about his soulmate while comforting her in the rain. Her mind keeps wandering back to that incident. A lot happened that day. She got heartbroken. She broke someone else’s heart. She ran out of food for Calypso. She met that strange stag who ran away as he heard James Potter’s name. But out of all the things that happened, her mind always seems to square in on that one moment when he held her tight. That one moment when he was blushing like crazy. That one moment when he was trying to make her laugh. That one moment when he talked about his soulmate and he looked so in love. That one moment when she realized that he was in love with her.

It all played like a loop in her head and honestly, it was giving her a headache.

All of it hurt. The two most conflicting feelings mashed up together. Pain and emptiness. Pain made her feel everything at once. Emptiness was just that. Empty. Numb. Nothing. Dead.

She should’ve known. James was there in the hospital wings too. Remus wouldn’t be thinking about the comfort of the hospital wing and the love in Madam Pomfrey’s care when he was unconscious in the uncomfortable beds in the hospital wing. Remus didn’t take Alchemy. James did and he was brilliant at it, especially the gold spell. She knows how much Remus loves his sleep. He wouldn’t be at the breakfast table if he had been talking to her till three in the morning the previous night. James was still catching up on his sleep then.

It was all right there. The cheesiness, the exaggerated feelings, the mischief, the absurdly far-fetched promises, it could never have been Remus.

She should’ve known.

It was always James. James, with his round glasses. James with his hazel eyes. James, with his unbelievably messy hair (didn’t his father develop sleekeazy’s?). James with his motherly nature when concerned with his friends. James, with his ridiculously clever pranks. James with his exaggerated and loud exclamations of love for Lily Evans at breakfast-

Lily Evans.

The love of his life, as he has said on multiple occasions.

Perfect Lily Evans. Beautiful Lily Evans. Clever Lily Evans. Funny Lily Evans. Lovely Lily Evans. Always-fights-for-justice Lily Evans. Y/N’s friend Lily Evans. James’s love Lily Evans. But really Xander’s soulmate Lily Evans.

Did James know that Lily Evans is Xander’s soulmate Lily Evans?

Y/N would like that orange juice now.

…

Today was a sad day. At breakfast, James had received mail conveying how his parents had fallen sick. Dragon Pox. Highly lethal, highly communicable. So he was not even allowed to go see them in what may be their last few weeks. He had been a mess since he found out. His friends tried to talk to him, ask him what happened but James refused to speak. He had wandered around school the whole day, skipping all his classes. Silent, stiff, sad. He didn’t talk even when he was in his dorm, dressed for bed, not even when he couldn’t sleep.

He had had a lot of time to think. With everything falling apart around him, things really got put into perspective. He thought about Y/N and that day in the courtyard. The night by the lake. The whole situation regarding Remus and Y/N was so fucked up. He loved his soulmate. And if his soulmate is freaking Y/N L/N, then he loves her too. He loves her even when she loves his best friend. All of this was a lot. Things should clear up in a few days between Remus and Y/N but he was scared of what she was thinking. He could come to love her but she seemed so repelled by the idea of being his soulmate. She seemed scared. He knew he wasn’t exactly her favorite person in the world. But he didn’t want her to be scared. He wanted her to know she was loved. They could work past their petty rivalry, right? They could come to love and understand each other eventually. He wasn’t ready to give up on her and he hated seeing her go through all of it alone. And he needed to let her know that.

When he was sure that the boys had fallen asleep, he slid out of bed, his bare feet touching the cold wood. He took his invisible cloak and went out the Gryffindor common room. It was a bit chilly that night. He thought a hot beverage might help.

He found the kitchen just as he expected to, warm and heavenly. What he didn’t expect was his soulmate stuffing her face with cake with tears in her eyes.

He wanted to go away. Neither of them seemed like they were in the best emotional state to talk. But he couldn’t walk away when he heard her little sniff as she tried to hold in a sob so as to not spew cake out everywhere.

He sighed as he entered her line of sight. Her eyes widened before she started choking. She felt a hand on her back in second calming her coughing.

“You okay, L/N?”

She took a huge gulp of milk before nodding, not meeting his eyes.

James was unsure of what to do. She knew they were soulmates. He knew they were soulmates. They didn’t know the other knew they were soulmates. And they decided that was best.

James fumbled around the cabinets as he made himself a hot chocolate while Y/N debated whether to leave or stay.

James sat down on the small table facing away from the kitchen doors as Y/N decided on the latter. As she reached the door, she heard James.

“Do you have to leave?”

She turned to look at where he was sitting to be met with the sight of his back hunched over his steaming hot mug of chocolate. She looked at the cake that she had decided to take with her and thought about how she wouldn’t be able to finish it all by herself anyway.

Y/N to cautious steps towards the table and sat down opposite to him. She slid the plate of chocolate cake to the space between them as James split his hot chocolate into two cups and slid one over to her.

Y/N cleared her throat in the heavy silence that weighed on them.

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah. You probably don’t want to hear about it. But my soulmate it not talking to me so I need someone to talk to about all this stuff.”

Y/N gulped as she looked around the kitchens.

“Mum and Dad are deadly sick. They somehow contracted Dragon Pox and…I don’t know what to do. They’re not strong enough to pull through and I’m not strong enough to do it without them. Things are already so messed up and I just can’t imagine going through all of it without them.”

Y/N’s eyes found his as they started to water up and her heart broke at the sight of him trying to stop his lips from trembling.

She reached for his hand that was resting on the table and placed hers on top of his. He felt the warmth of the cup she was holding seep into him as he let out a wavering sigh. Her fingers entangled themselves with his and he clutched at them with all his might in an attempt to not break down.

A tear escaped his eyes as she started to draw little circles on the back of his palm with her thumb.

With his other hand, he quickly wiped away the tear and looked up at her with a small smile.

“I’ve always adored their marriage y’know? I’ve always wanted a love like theirs. They must’ve been around our age when they found out that they were soulmates. It was just all lovely after that. I’ve seen the pictures of their school days, their graduation, their wedding and their married life. The day when they had me, they looked so in love. Always yearned for that love and I thought me and my soulmate would be just like them.”

Tears pooled up in Y/N’s eyes again. She wanted to tell him but it would break his heart. He had so many dreams of what his soulmate would be like. Dreams about what their life would be like. She couldn’t bring herself to shatter those dreams by telling him. He deserved to dream those dreams.

He looked at her for a second, waiting for something before letting go of the hand abruptly.

“Oh what are we doing? It’s not like we’re two otters going to sleep holding each other’s hands, now are we? Did you know they do that? My soulmate told me. She just absolutely lovely.”

Y/N looked up at his again, pools of tears clearly visible in both of their eyes.

“No. I didn’t know that-“ she smiled a little trying to hold back her tears, “-but it sound like you really love your soulmate, huh?”

“I do. More than anything in the world.”

Y/N nodded as her eyes went back to the table.

“Y/N, look at me-“Her eyes snapped to his, “-I really do love her. And I always will, no matter what. Even if she’s not who I would have thought she is, even is she won’t talk to me, even if she’s scared, even if nothing seems right, I’ll love her. And I’m not stopping. Ever.”

#james potter fanfictions #james potter soulmate au #james potter x reader #james potter imagines #rewrite the stars #soulmate au #hogwarts #remus lupin #remus and james #james potter #wizarding world #hufflepuff!reader #marauders era #the marauders

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the-name-is-z · 6 months

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SKELETONS | ch. 10

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: The group preemptively settles in at the farm. Iris finds herself risking her life once more, only this time it's a little more futile. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; surgery on a young boy, blood donation, memorial for a murder victim, iris drinks a lot of juice, planning search parties for a lost child, discussion of zombie contaminating drinking water

Chapter 10 - At What Cost

Hershel continued to check Carl’s vitals as the sun set. They were all holding off as long as they could, but they could only wait so long before Carl’s life was at risk.

“Pressure’s dropping again. We can’t wait much longer.” He warned.

“Do you need more blood?” Iris asked, offering her arm.

“No, you can’t give much more.” Hershel denied.

“I should go.” Rick mumbled.

“Go? Go where?” Lori asked, blinking.

“He said five miles. They should be long back by now. Something’s gone wrong.”

“Are you insane? You’re not going after them. Your place is here. If Shane said he’ll be back, he’ll be back. He’s like you that way.” Lori assured.

“I can’t just sit here.” Rick protested.

“That’s exactly what you do.” Lori snapped. “If you need to pray or cry or tell God he’s cruel you go right ahead, but you’re not leaving, Rick. Carl needs you— here. And I can’t do this by myself. Not this one. I can’t. I can’t.”

Hershel allowed each of them full access to their facilities, meaning soap and a hot shower, which they were grateful for. Rick told Lori and Carl stories as they waited for Shane to make it back. Iris ate, for Carl’s sake, even if she felt guilty for it. Maggie made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was the best thing she’d tasted in months, aside from the orange juice. She’d even slept.

At one point, Glenn and T-Dog showed up to get his wound treated and to bring a few antibiotics and pain killers they’d found.

“How you doing?” Iris asked as T-Dog ate across from her.

“We should be asking you the same thing.” Glenn stated. Iris shrugged, on her eighth glass of orange juice.

“Drinking them out of house and home.” She replied, wiggling the glass. He chuckled. “T-Dog?”

“I’m alright. It hurts.” He replied. Iris nodded. “You’re pale.”

“Thanks.” She replied, grinning.

“Iris!” Lori cried from the room. Iris stood abruptly, feeling her head rush.

“Woah.” Glenn helped steady her, taking her into the room. Carl’s blankets were mussed and Rick was straightening him back out across the bed.

“He needs another transfusion.” Hershel said quietly.

“Okay. I’m ready.” She agreed, sitting down in the chair.

“If I take any more out of you, your body could shut down. You could go into a coma. Or cardiac arrest.” Hershel explained. Iris didn’t have to look at Rick or Lori to see them staring at her. Neither one of them asked her to do this, nor did they want to ask her for more. But seeing Carl… He was such a hopeful kid. Happy. Eager. Despite everything. Iris didn’t hesitate.

“Do it.” She stated, offering her arm. Hershel set up the transfusion again, Carl’s parents at his side.

“He’s still losing blood faster than we can replace it. And with the swelling in his abdomen, we can’t wait any longer, or he’s just going to slip away.” Hershel explained after a while. Iris sat, staring up at the ceiling. “I need to know right now if you want me to do this, because I think your boy is out of time. You have to make a choice.”

“A choice?” Lori asked, horrified.

“A choice.” Rick nodded, turning to look her in the eyes. “You have to tell me what it is.”

“We do it.” Lori decided. They held each other tight, Hershel nodding to his daughter, Beth.

They moved Carl to a metal table, Patricia pulling a lamp close by, bringing the surgical instruments. Just as Hershel gripped the scalpel, Otis’ truck pulled in. Iris sat next to Carl, waiting as they brought the instruments in. Rick and Lori waited outside.

It was a couple hours before it was done, Hershel going back out to announce that he was stable. Iris was barely lucid in the chair beside him, but she was glad to be there with him.

“Iris.” Lori whispered, walking in.

“He’s doing good.” Iris whispered. She was white as a sheet, her lips paler than Carl’s. Lori sobbed, kneeling beside them and taking Carl’s hand once more. Shane appeared in the doorway, some sort of relief on his face. He looked up at her, nodding.

“Stay.” Lori whispered. Shane paused before nodding. When she turned away, he disappeared. Iris sighed, leaning her head back against the wall.

“Fuck me.” She muttered.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Lori whispered. Iris only nodded, and Lori took her hand, too.

By the time the morning came around, Iris was already feeling much better, though they wouldn’t let her help as the others collected rocks for Otis’ burial. Apparently something happened on the run, and Shane had returned without him. Wouldn’t be much of a burial.

Iris sat on the porch railing, watching the others work. The roar of Daryl’s motorcycle sounded in the distance, and she watched him pull up with the RV, a new SUV in tow. T-Dog went inside to get Rick and Lori so they could have a group conversation.

“How is he?” Dale asked, the lot of them gathering on the lawn.

“He’ll pull through.” Lori said, smiling in relief. “Thanks to Hershel and his people, and Iris.”

“And Shane. We would have lost Carl if not for him.” Rick added. Dale sighed in relief, bringing Rick in for a hug. Carol embraced Lori fairly quickly.

“How’d it happen?” Dale asked.

“Hunting accident.” Rick replied. “That’s all, just a stupid accident.”

“You look like shit.” Daryl said quietly, approaching Iris on the porch.

“Boy, do you know how to sweet-talk a girl.” She replied, looking up at him. He half-shrugged.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She huffed. “Just waiting for my body to make some more blood.” He nodded. He stepped forward, and Iris raised an eyebrow as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. She grinned, almost ready to bust out laughing.

“Alright.” He said simply, turning back to the others.

Once they were ready, they all walked a ways down the road to a large oak tree, where they’d brought the stones they collected. One by one, everyone placed a stone on the growing pile in memory of Otis, while Hershel read a funeral passage.

“Blessed be God, Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Praise be to him for the gift of our brother, Otis. For his span of years, for his abundance of character. Otis, who gave his life to save a child’s, now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, God, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived. In Grace. Shane, will you speak for Otis?”

“I’m not good at it.” Shane mumbled. He wore Otis’ old clothes, his head newly shaved down to the scalp. Iris raised an eyebrow at his refusal, leaning against Glenn, who had offered himself for support. “I’m sorry.”

“You were the last one with him.” Patricia stated, through her tears. “You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning.”

“We were about done.” Shane murmured. “Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad, ankle all swollen up. ‘We’ve gotta save the boy.’ See, that’s what he said. He gave me his backpack, he shoved me ahead. ‘Run.’ He said. He said, ‘I’ll take the rear, I’ll cover you.’ And when I looked back…” He paused, limping forward toward the wheel barrow of rocks. “If not for Otis, I’d have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl, too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his.”

Once the memorial was finished and the group dispersed, Rick gathered a few volunteers to talk about their search for Sophia. Hershel joined in, curious as to what the situation was.

“How long has this girl been lost?” He asked, Daryl, Iris, Shane, Andrea, and Rick all standing around the hood of the station wagon.

“This’ll be day three.” Rick replied. Maggie came over, laying out a map of the area on the hood of the car.

“County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations.” She stated, spreading it out. She placed stones on the corners to hold them down.

“This is perfect.” Rick murmured. “We can finally get this thing organized. We’ll grid the whole area, start searching in teams.” Iris opened her mouth, but Hershel pointed at her.

“Not you.” He said firmly. “You gave three units of blood. You wouldn’t be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out.” He turned to Shane as well. “And your ankle— push it now, you’ll be laid up a month, no good to anybody.”

“Guess it’s just me and Rick.” Daryl stated. Rick nodded. “I’m gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there.”

“I can still be useful.” Shane insisted. “I’ll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back.”

“Alright. Tomorrow then, we start doing this right.” Rick nodded to Iris, who huffed.

“That means we can’t have our people out there with just knives.” Shane stated. “They need the gun training we’ve been promising them.”

“I’d prefer you not carry guns on my property.” Hershel stated. “We’ve managed so far without turning this into an armed camp.”

“All due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here…” Shane warned.

“Look, we’re guests here.” Rick shook his head. “This is your property and we will respect that.” He looked at Shane pointedly, who exhaled sharply through his nose. Rick put his revolver on the hood of the car, waiting. Shane slammed his pistol alongside it but stared right through Hershel. Iris raised an eyebrow, carefully placing her gun down. “First things first: Set camp, find Sophia.”

“What happens if we find her, and she’s bit? Or… worse?” Iris asked quietly. “How… how do we handle that?”

“You do what has to be done.” Rick replied.

“And her mother? What do you tell her?” Maggie asked in disbelief.

“The truth.” Andrea replied. Hershel shook his head at Maggie as they exchanged a look.

“I’ll gather and secure all the weapons.” Shane offered. “Make sure no one’s carrying until we’re at a practice range, off-site. I do request one rifleman on lookout. Dale’s got experience…”

“Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun.” Rick explained, looking to Hershel questioningly. The old man sighed, nodding. “Thank you.”

“That stuff you brought… got anymore antibiotics, bandages, anything like that?” Maggie asked.

“Just what you’ve seen.” Andrea replied. Maggie pressed her lips together.

“We’re running short already. I should make a run into town.” She stated.

“Not the place Shane went?”

“No, there’s a pharmacy just a mile down the road. I’ve done it before.” She explained. Rick turned around, motioning to Glenn, who was helping Lori set up her tent.

“See our man there, in the baseball cap?” He asked. “That’s Glenn, our go-to-town expert. I’d ask him along, just to be cautious.” Hershel nodded to Maggie, who nodded back as she walked over to him.

Iris made her way to where Dale had laid out a tent for her. It had belonged to Jim and Jacqui, but they didn’t really need it anymore. She took her time setting up the tent, sitting on the grass and enjoying the shade. She watched as Daryl and Rick had a brief conversation near the porch before Daryl stormed away, obviously mad about something, like usual. It was nice to have a moment to herself, a moment to relax.

But of course, moments like that were fleeting, and soon Dale and T-Dog came running from out in the field, where Maggie had directed them to the second of five wells on their property. The two of them led Iris, Maggie, Lori, Glenn, Andrea and Shane to the well, where the old wood boards had apparently rotted and broken, a few telltale raspy growls from inside the well telling Iris everything she needed to know.

Shane shone a flashlight down into the well, and for the first time in a while, Iris felt sick to her stomach at the sight of a walker. He’d been there a while, clearly, as his flesh had ballooned up with water, bloating in the most unsightly way.

“Looks like we got us a swimmer.” Dale mused.

“You don’t drink from here, do you?” Iris asked, glancing to Maggie. She shook her head.

“We use it for the cattle.” She muttered, scowling.

“How long do you think it’s been down there?” Glenn asked.

“Long enough to grow gills.” Andrea replied, cringing.

“We can’t leave it in there. God knows what it’s doing to the water.” Lori replied. Iris tilted her head, taking the offered flashlight from Shane and angling it downward.

“I don’t see any open wounds, but its hard to tell from here.” She pointed out.

“We gotta get it out.” Shane said plainly.

“Easy. Put a bullet in it’s head.” T-Dog replied.

“Well that’s a real quick way to contaminate the drinkable water.” Iris said, looking up with an amused expression.

“She’s right. Can’t risk it.” Shane agreed.

“So it has to come out alive?”

“So to speak.” Shane replied with a smirk.

“How do we do that?” Maggie asked. Within a few seconds, they had fashioned a rope with a loop at the end and a fishing line with a canned ham hooked at the end. Iris had plainly stated that this wasn’t going to work, but the rest of the group argued that they may as well try. The walker was very disinterested.

“He’s not going for it.” Dale observed.

“Because a canned ham don’t kick and scream when you try to eat it.” T-Dog replied.

“He’s right.” Lori agreed. “There’s a reason the dead didn’t come back to life and start raiding our cupboards.”

“So, what, we catch a squirrel or something for live bait? Where’s Daryl when you need him?” Iris scoffed, looking around the farm.

“Well, we need some kind of live bait.” Andrea said, turning to Iris. She looked up, glancing at her companions as they all nervously looked to her.

“Oh, really? I’m glad that I’m the sacrificial lamb in all of your eyes.” Iris grumbled.

“It’s not—“ Dale began, but Iris waved him off.

“You’re light and you don’t turn tail at danger. You’re a good fit.” Shane stated, shrugging.

“Gee, thanks. Just give me the damn rope.” She mumbled. They looped one end of rope around the metal spout of the pump and Iris braced her feet on the pipe spanning the diameter of the well. Shane began tying the rope around her legs in a series of knots she didn’t know the names of, assuring her they wouldn’t come undone. “Have I mentioned that I love the new look?” She joked, trying to brush off the nerves.

“Don’t stress. You got it, sweetheart.” Shane assured, patting her on the back.

“Yeah, I don’t like that.” Iris replied.

“Me either. Felt weird as soon as I said it.” He agreed, flashing her a grin. Iris smiled back, shaking her head.

“I’d like to be mostly unharmed when I go to bed tonight.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Dale offered a nervous smile. They all took their places along the rope, as if it was a game of tug-of-war.

“I thought you’d make me do it.” Glenn whispered to T-Dog over his shoulder.

“I guess you owe me one, Glenn.” Iris called, earning a nervous laugh from the boy.

“We got you.” Andrea assured.

“You people are crazy.” Maggie groaned, worried.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Iris challenged.

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#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x original character #skeletons #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl dixon #thenameisz #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc

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samoankpoper21 · 1 year

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Levi, I'm Pregnant...

Summary: Levi made it very clear that he wasn't too keen on having children but the universe has a way of throwing you off; modern! au

Side note: Anything with < text > is Levi's thoughts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, you anxiously paced back and forth, gnawing at your bottom lip, trying to come up with different ways to tell Levi the one thing you knew he may dread: I'm pregnant. How could have this happened? Growing up you've always experienced irregular periods so this time you didn't think much of it...that was until the nausea started kicking in, the fatigue crashes, the way your nose would scrunch up at certain scents i.e lavender, pickles, honey, garlic; and the fact that you were always so god damn horny for Levi. You took the first test and it came back positive. Nah that can't be right. The first one is most likely a false positive. You took a second one a week later. Positive. Third times a charm right? POS.I.TIVE. While Levi was at work you scheduled an appointment with your primary doctor. "Congratulations! You're 11 weeks along!"

In the midst of your pacing, you failed to realize Levi step foot in the house until he plopped his briefcase down and stared at you causing you to gasp. "Hey baby." you squeaked.

"Hey you. What are you doing?"

"Huh?" you noticed Levi slightly frowning, you knew that he was catching on to you. "Baby I made dinner why don't you wash up?" Levi stared at you a beat longer and sighed. "Tch. Fine."

You both sat for dinner and you suddenly felt a bit queasy, it's mac and cheese for goodness sake! This was your comfort food! You cleared your throat and began to drink your orange juice - heeding your coworker's advice of eating oranges to deal with the nausea. Without a beat Levi's eyebrow shot up, he knew you wanted to tell him something but was waiting for you to approach the subject. You don't realize it but you gnaw your lips and avoid eye contact when there's something heavy on your mind. Levi continued eating the steak, mashed potatoes, and string beans you set out for him. "How was work today baby?"

"Oh uh it was fine. How about you?" <there shes goes again gnawing at her damn lips>

"Same shit, different toilet." You chuckled at his response but went back to gnawing your lips. You could feel Levi staring holes into you as you looked everywhere but him. "Tch." His impatience was rising with you but he didn't want to make you feel rushed. <What could be so fucking important that she can't spit it out?!> The rest of the night progressed as "normal" as you tried to make it. As you were both preparing for bed you got a whiff of honey, ran to the toilet, and began throwing up; Levi instantly behind you holding your hair. "Oi. What's wrong with you? Are you getting sick or something? You better not be I swear to God if you are-"

"No," your eyes started tearing up, hands shaking.

"Oi, what's wrong with you?"

You hastily stood up to blow your nose, rinse out your mouth, and turned to look at him. <Oh no...is she...leaving me??>

"I don't know how else to tell you this so I'm just going to shoot it to you straight...I'm pregnant." <What...> Levi standing there with no response trying to figure out the mechanisms of it drove your anxiety through the roof, upset even. "Fine then! Good talk." You were trying to rush past him but he was too quick. "Oi, it's rude to walk away when people are still having a conversation."

"Well it's rude not to say anything when your girlfriend gives you life shattering news you twat!" you spat out. Your crumbled into his arms sobbing. This damn pregnancy! Levi carried you and placed you on the bed gently, he kneeling in front of you. "Levi, I hic I'm s-sorry," you tried to explain through the tears. "I, hic, I I know hic you said you hic don't want kids but hic it just happened! Okay?!" Levi was drawing patterns into your hands. "Y/N I never said I didn't want kids."

"Yes you did! When hic I brought it hic to your attention you said no hic that they're little shits!"

"Y/N I only said that because I'm scared," he whispered. "I don't want my kid to go through what I went through." You gently tilted Levi's head with your finger to look up to you, into your eyes, gently grasping both sides of his face. "Baby they don't have to." you whispered.

A beat of silence passed with Levi closing his eyes leaning his face into your hands. You began running your hands through his hair.

"I-"

"F-" you both stopped and began to awkwardly laugh. "What were you going to say?" he asked.

"You go first."

"Shit heads go first."

"Ha ha you're so funny," you dryly responded. You took a deep breath and said, "I'm keeping the baby. With or without you." A moment of silence passed when he replied, "Oh the irony because I was going to say fuck it, yolo." Your face lit up. "Really? Baby really?! We're really doing this?!"

"Shut up will you." you jumped up, embracing him in a hug, plastering kisses all over his face. He laid both of you down and you nuzzled into him more, your foreheads touching. "Baby."

"What?"

"You're going to be a great father."

103 notes · View notes

imhereforscm · 6 months

Text

The gods' reactions to you gripping their thigh

Leon: Rest in peace to you AND your spine

Scorpio: Blushed. Then screeched so hard he accidentally called a poor dolpin's mom a scum

Teorus: You do realize you gotta do that every day now, cause he likes it, right?

Dui: *sigghhh* He is so touch starved he almost cried at the physical contact. Please, hold him or I will

Huedhaut: This man... *sniffling* He placed his hand on top of yours and laced fingers with you *screeching like Scorpio did earlier*

Ichthys: Bro realized how much of a sub he actually is AND BOI DID HE NOT SEE THAT SHIT COMING

Karno: Looks at you. Smiles. Presses a kiss to your temple and continues doing whatever he was doing. (Spoiler alert: Tonight say bye bye to your spine. It'll be joining the Kangaroos in Australia very soon, aka tonight)

Zyglavis: "What?" "What do you mean 'what'?" "You wanted something." "I wanted to grip your thigh, Zyg, for you's sake! Let me have my moment!"

Aigonorus: "Why the grip? Something scared you?" You kinda wanna call him a dumbass, but he's too cute and you can't find the strength

Krioff: Blushes and stays silent. "Kri?" He nods slowly, still refusing to stop looking at the ground. "You okay, baby?" He nods again. His brain is like a computer that had orange juice spilt all over it

Tauxolouve: HE'S A SWITCH AND WE ALL FUCKING KNEW. AND UNLIKE ICHTHYS, YOU BET YOUR ASS HE KNEW TOO. THIS MAN ACTS LIKE YOU JUST PICKED HIM UP FROM HIS HOUSE WITH YOUR CAR AND NOW YOU'RE TAKING HIM FOR ICE CREAM. (Which... IS a good idea. TAKE HIM FOR ICE CREAM!)

Partheno: Room overflowed with cum. There are no survivors.

41 notes · View notes

msnanu · 1 year

Text

Life Twist 02 | JJK

⏤banner by the talented and sweet: @archivedkookie ❣

⏤summary ❧ After an enormous loss in your life and breaking a long relationship with your now ex boyfriend, you decided you needed a life twist. So you move into a new country to try restart your life and seek for your happiness. What you weren’t expecting was someone like Jungkook entering into your life as soon as you got to Seoul.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ❧ jungkook x female reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 ❧ fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, 4 years age gap (reader is JK’s noona)

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ❧ mature language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ❧ 7.9k+

⏤ author’s note❧ Please, enjoy the new chapter, guys! I hope you don't hate me after this one. Trust me, things are getting interesting from now on - the trip is coming too! 😏 Let me know your thoughts on the story so far! If there's any misspelling please forgive me, I tried to update as fast as possible since I'm not gonna be able to write the next chapter until next Monday so I wanted to give you this time a chapter that's a little more longer than the first one.

‘Oh, for fucks sake my head, make it stop!’ you hear your best friend groaning on the sofa while you’re in the kitchen preparing yourselves breakfast.

You placed in the kitchen counter a plate with strawberries, kiwi, and banana. You've also prepared some french toasts, scrambled eggs, and fresh orange juice. It’s not like you've worked a lot preparing everything but you know Chris likes that kind of breakfast, so knowing he would get up any time soon feeling like hell, you went for that.

‘There you have some Ibuprofen for you to take, it will help with the headache, at least I hope so’ you say when Chris approaches one of the chairs next to the counter.

‘Thanks, you’re an angel’ he says whilst he drinks the pill with help of the freshly orange juice that you’ve prepared him and then he adds: ‘I missed so much having these hangover breakfasts with you’.

Right before he started to talk, you were about to scold him for over drinking on the very first night you went out together again and leaving you with people that you just met. Thank God for Jungkook that helped you dragging his ass back to home, you don’t know how you would’ve done it without his help. But you bite your tongue because, to be totally honest there’s been a million times where the situation was the opposite, you being drunk as fuck and he being the one to drag you home so, you can only respond ‘I missed this too’ while placing your head for a few seconds on his shoulder and then start eating your breakfast next to him

‘So…the golden maknae has charmed his way out to you?’ says your friend out of the sudden

‘The golden what?’

‘Maknae means the youngest. JK is insanely good at every thing that human beings can possibly do, so Namjoon thought of that nickname and now most of the guys in the group call him ‘golden maknae’ because of that’ he explains while you just nod

You feel like you’re starting to blush remembering about yesterday’s events so you look away and then you think to yourself – how the fuck did your friend noticed? He was so freakin wasted but he still noticed the flirting? Well…at least that’s what you think you were both doing…you were both flirting each other, right?

Chris knows you like the back of his hand, he noticed how you looked away and he clearly saw you blushing while spacing out. ‘I was wasted but not to that extent to not remembering how you were both obviously flirting with each other’ he says suddenly making you return to Earth

‘I wasn’t flirting!’ You respond almost immediately knowing it’s a lie and that Chris can see right through it

‘Hey – It’s me who you’re talking to, since when do you get this shy over a guy that you flirted with? I’m actually happy that you’re putting yourself out on the market again. I mean, it’s been like ages’

‘It’s only been a year’

‘Only a year? Dear God if I didn’t get my dick wet for a week I would be bawling like a baby’

‘That’s because you constantly think with your dick, there’s more in life than sex’

‘Oh yeah? Like what? Watching Netflix on your couch while eating popcorn alone on a Friday night? – what’s wrong with that? you think to yourself while your friend keeps talking - Come on, you’re about to turn 30, you haven’t been single for almost a decade... you need to start having some fun again’

‘Honestly, I don’t know if it can be catalogued as flirting what happened last night, maybe he was just being friendly with me. I have been in a relationship for so long that I feel like I don’t even know how to act properly with a hot guy’ you say sincerely

‘From what I remember I’m convinced that my man JK was flirting with you too… but stop worrying so much, go with the flow…you’ll know what to do’ your friend tries to comfort you

‘He asked me for my cellphone number before leaving’ you confess

‘He did, huh?’ - says wiggling his eyebrows over to you while you roll your eyes - ‘Though, I have to say, I’m surprised you’re even attracted to him, he is an insanely handsome guy...but you were never too fond of younger guys’

‘That’s what I thought exactly when he told me how old he is. But I’ve never really tried with a younger guy anything so…maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to give it a go at one point’

‘Now that’s my best friend! Go get that dick bestie!’

‘Eww, why do you always have to be so explicit? I’m not even sure something is gonna happen with him… we just talked a bit and he asked my cellphone. It doesn’t mean anything’

‘Maybe we’ll find out tonight’ says Chris while heading over to wash the dishes

‘Huh? Why tonight?’ you flip your head towards him and curiously ask

‘Didn’t you check your phone? The guys added you to our group chat. We’re going to a night club tonight; we’ll keep it going with Jackson’s birthday party… he really enjoys celebrating the whole weekend whenever he’s the birthday boy’ says your friend

And then he adds: ‘And I’m pretty sure that your lover boy JK confirmed he’s going tonight’ while he winks at you

‘Shut up, he’s not my lover. And who said I’m going too? I might be busy’

‘Are you, though?’, he looks suspiciously at you because he already knows you’re lying

‘No’ you almost whisper

‘Then that’s it, you’re coming. You need to get laid, it’s good for your health, you know’

‘Oh my god Christian, I just met the guy last night, I’m not gonna sleep with him immediately!’

‘Why not? You’re not hurting anyone by enjoying yourself’

You go near him and hand a few dirty dishes that were left in the counter while you sigh and say ‘I'm aware that I’m not hurting anyone, it’s just that I don’t usually go sleeping around, you know it. And we’re getting to much ahead of ourselves, I already told you I don’t know if he’s even attracted to me, I just saw him one time, I barely know the guy for crying out loud!’

He chuckles while saying ‘Trust me. I have the feeling that he wants to pound you until you don’t remember your own name’

‘Oh my f – You’re such a pig sometimes!’ you say while punching his arm with your small fists, though he doesn’t even budge

He smiles at you and says ‘So, that means you’re coming, right?’

‘Fine, I’ll go. But I don’t want to drag your drunken ass back home again tonight so please control yourself’

‘Don’t worry, after last night I think I’ll just drink water tonight. I’m not getting any younger and it takes a lot more time to recover now than when I was 18’ and you both chuckle at your friend’s sincerity while you take a rest scattered in your couch

°•○•°●♤♡◇♧•°○•°□▪︎☆♤

‘Ugh, I don’t know, I’m not sure… maybe this is too revealing or maybe it’s too tight, why am I getting so stressed over a dress?!’ you say while you show your outfit through videocall to your best friend

‘Maybe because you know you have pretty good chances on hooking up with certain someone today’

‘Please, cut it out. You’re making me nervous, I just want to have a good night’

‘Okay, okay sorry… you know I’m just kidding. You look amazing, stop having doubts. You usually don’t give a shit about what people says so what’s with the insecurities now?’

‘It’s not insecurities, I know I’m gorgeous’ and you see him rolling your eyes at you ‘Hey – don’t you roll your eyes on me, mister. You know it’s true’

You both snicker at this point and he simply replies ‘Yeah, I honestly can’t disagree on that’

‘Maybe I’m nervous because he’s also kind of your friend and I don’t want to make things awkward. Imagine that we hook up... and then we start dating... and then for some reason we break up, it would be so weird giving that he’s in your friend’s group and now I’m also being included’

You see your friend laughing like crazy through the screen, till the point that he’s cleaning a few tears of his cheeks

‘What the hell are you laughing for?’ you say with greeted teeths

‘It’s just that you said to me earlier that we were getting ahead of ourselves because you don’t even know if JK feels the same way about you and now here you are imagining scenarios were you two are dating… gosh, you can be so funny sometimes’

‘Fuck off’

He snickers and says ‘Listen, just go with the flow. He is my friend too, yes, but don’t even think about that. Just do whatever your heart… or your pussy says’

You can’t help to laugh at your friend’s words, and you respond ‘Okay, we’ll see were the night goes. Let’s have fun tonight!’

‘I love that spirit! I’ll pick you up in an hour, bestie. See u’

You send him a flying kiss and you see him faking like he passed out after he received it ‘See u, clown’ you say while laughing at his bad acting skills

°•○•°●♤♡◇♧•°○•°□▪︎☆♤

This club looks posh, you think to yourself. Although, it’s not that big as you imagined to be, it has only 2 dance floors, one of them is basically a huge ass balcony right next to the Han River with a beautiful view to Seoul city

Chris guides you to the usual spot where he and his friends use to hang out, he told you that Jin’s brother-in-law is the owner, so they come very often to this particular night club.

You spotted Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Taehyung with smiling faces waving at you from across a table that’s right next to the dance floor.

Once you greet everyone, they start telling you that Joey and Emma couldn’t make it, they were still recovering from last night. Aria had her best friend’s baby shower during the day and felt exhausted, so she couldn’t come either. Namjoon and Jackson were asking for some drinks at the bar… and JK and Jin where nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, you started to feel a little bit more nervous at JK’s mention and Chris noticed it so, he grabbed your hand and asked at the same time looking on the guys direction ‘Hey, we’re going to grab some drinks, do you want anything from the bar?’. Yoongi said a short 'No, thanks', Jimin and Taehyung were already drinking Soju so they raised their glasses and said ‘No, thank you hyung!’ while Hobi said ‘Um, could you order a whisky on the rocks for me, please? Thanks, hyung!’. Chris just winked at Hobi and said ‘You got it, buddy’ while dragging you with him holding your hand

When you got to the bar, Chris said while ordering the drinks ‘Okay, maybe a drink will help to make you loosen up a little bit. Remember, we are just having fun!’

‘Yeah, I know, you’re right. I need a drink ASAP’ you respond to your friend and then you redirect your attention towards the bartender who was waiting for you to order ‘A gin tonic for me, please. Thank you’

You take your drinks to the table with the guys and once your glasses are empty, Chris says ‘Come on, let’s go dancing bestie’. The gin tonic definitely helped you to loosen up a little bit more because you didn’t even hesitate and accepted your friend’s request while you grabbed his hand and went towards the dance floor

‘I’m good yeah I’m feeling alright, baby Imma have the best fucking night of my life and wherever it takes me, I’m down for the ride’ you were singing along while dancing with your best friend. You danced for about half an hour when you said to Chris ‘Hey I’m going to the bath, I’m about to pee myself’ which he only replied ‘Who’s the one being explicit now, huh? Go go! I’ll be here when you come back’

So, you started running off to the bath, on your way there you spotted Jin right on the other side of one of the bars grabbing a bottle of Soju as if he was the owner of the club, he smiled brightly and waved at you which you replied back and suddenly you saw his eyes widening… you curiously followed whatever his eyes were looking at and saw a blonde girl kissing… Jungkook.

Your smile dropped instantly. You didn’t want Jin to see your face, so you quickly continued your way to the bath not looking back.

After emptying your bladder and sanitizing your hands, you stayed for a few minutes in the bath against a wall spacing out. Did I really misread that bad his intentions? Fuck I’m really out of the game, how could I think that he was interested in me? He was just being friendly with you, y/n. You’re such an idiot. Is she his girlfriend? I mean, of course he has a girlfriend, he's so fucking gorgeous...stupid, stupid, stupid – You kept scolding yourself in your own mind. You somehow felt sad and stupid, how could you feel sad about a guy that you just saw one time in your whole life? Maybe it was the fact that he made you feel wanted after such a long time of not having that feeling – though, you now realize it wasn’t like that at all, you just felt that –

Suddenly you realize you have been inside the bathroom for almost 20 minutes and Chris might start worrying if he sees that you are not coming back. So, you arm yourself of bravery and get out of there, you’ll just walk quickly towards the dance floor, that way you won’t have to witness again that scene of Jungkook and that blondie kissing.

When you were already passing by the bar, you feel a hand pulling yours… you move your head to see who’s the person that grabbed you and it’s none other than Jungkook. ‘Hi, noona – you look beautiful’ he says while smiling with that sweet tone that you didn’t even know you missed hearing. You don’t know how to react, you just keep repeating in your head the scene of that girl kissing him, but you must be mature about it, he’s nothing to you… he’s just... a friend of your best friend that you’ve just met, and you were the one to misread the signs, it's not his fault. So, you just reply with a simple ‘Hi Jungkook, thanks… you look good too’

You feel like his hold on you is almost burning, so you take back your hand unconciously which Jungkook notices and looks at you strangely. ‘Is everything okay?’ he asks, and you just respond ‘Yeah, everything’s great’ though by the way he’s looking at you, you know he didn’t buy your fake smile. You start to feel insanely uncomfortable, so you immediately say ‘Um, I have to go, Chris must be looking for me… It was nice seeing you again’ and you don’t even wait for him to respond when you turn your heels and walk away as fast as you can.

Of course, Chris disappeared. You went looking for him on the same place where you left him before going to the bath and he wasn’t there. Knowing your friend, you know that he probably met some random girl and must be having his fun somewhere around.

You really need a drink, pronto. So, you head towards the bar and sit on one of the stalls while looking at the dance floor. From where you are situated, you could see Jimin and Taehyung dancing on top of a speakerbox, they seemed to be a little bit hammered, and it made you laugh for a minute. Those two share the same braincell, they remind you of Chris and you – soulmates -, you can’t help to think

You were waiting for the bartender to finish preparing another gin tonic for you when a guy sat on the next stall right next to you. You were already cursing inside your head; you had already sent off 3 guys that came up to you with cheesy lines trying to get your number or for you to accept them buying you a drink… you just weren’t in the mood to hear any more fuckboys coming to you with their stupid attempts.

‘Rough night?’ you hear from the guy that just sat next to you

Well, at least this one’s trying to make a conversation before coming up with a cheesy line – you think to yourself

‘I don’t know if rough is the right word… nothing that tragic happened, it’s just not what I had in mind’ you reply while you thank the bartender that has finished preparing your drink

‘You and me both, my friends dragged me here with the excuse that I should get out of my house more often and have fun… and they’re nowhere to be found’ he responds and then asks you ‘so…your boyfriend is an asshole or what’s been troubling you tonight?’

He got a good laugh out of you this time while you respond ‘wow, smooth way to find out if a girl has a boyfriend or not’

‘What can I say? I have my ways’ he responds giving you a cocky grin

You take a proper look at him now… he’s handsome - you think – while holding his gaze you respond ‘I don’t have a boyfriend’

He smiles at you and says ‘Nice to know that. So, what’s in your mind?’

You don’t know if it’s the gin tonic that once again is putting your filters down or what, but you start telling him ‘Well, I met this guy… I saw him only once, but I don’t know… I felt like we had kind of a connection and that we were both flirting back and forth and thought that maybe tonight was going somewhere with him but on my way to the bath I just saw a blondie sucking his face – so I clearly misread the signals and I’m feeling like an idiot’

‘Auch, that’s a bummer’ he responds while taking a sip of his drink

‘You don’t say’

‘You don’t have to feel like an idiot though, we all been there at some point of our lives’ he says while keeping his gaze on you

You noticed he never told you what’s his name was throughout all the conversation, so you offer your hand while smiling at him and say ‘I’m y/n, by the way’

He smiles and says ‘I’m Minho, Choi Minho. Nice to meet you, y/n’ while taking your hand on his

‘Nice to meet you too, Choi Minho’ you say while also smiling at him. You feel like you don't have any shame left in your body, alcohol does wonders indeed- you think to yourself for a second - and bravely ask Minho ‘What do you say? Wanna have a dance with me? Please don’t reject me, I already had too much embarassment for one night. Oh..wait.. do you have a girlfriend?’ -

‘Only an idiot could reject a beautiful girl like you and no, I don't have a girlfriend’ he says in the most flirticious way while you both smile at each other like two idiots and without further do, you both headed hand in hand towards the dance floor

°•○•°●♤♡◇♧•°○•°□▪︎☆♤

What you weren’t aware of, was that there was a pair of burning eyes watching the whole scene unraveling between you and Minho.

Jungkook was about to head to the dance floor and drag you out of that guy’s hold when Jin putted a hand in his shoulder and told him ‘That wouldn’t be wise to do’

‘What the hell do you know, hyung?’

‘JK, she saw you kissing Lina and I saw y/n’s face… she seemed as shocked as I was. It’s only fair to say that right now she must be thinking that you either have a girlfriend that you didn’t tell her about or that you are not interested in her. Either way, if you go there and make a scene, she will probably tell you to fuck off and I wouldn’t blame her to be honest’

Jungkook’s eyes were big as a plate when he said ‘She saw me with Lina? Oh no.... no no no. Fuck. I didn’t even kiss her, she did. I stopped her as soon as I realize what we were doing. She just came out of nowhere and kissed me, I haven’t seen her in 3 months, hyung’

‘Well, my friend, bad luck. I think you lost your chance… at least for tonight. Just don’t do anything stupid. When you get the opportunity to talk to y/n, you can let her know what really happened tonight but barging in when she’s having a good time with someone else, it’s not a good choice’

‘It should be me the one dancing with her, not that guy’ he says with greeted teeth

‘She’s just dancing, it doesn’t mean it’s going to go fur- okay, forget what I said… he’s kissing her’ Jin said a little bit preoccupied

‘Fuck this, I can’t keep just staring while she’s kissing some random guy’ Jungkook responded with jealousy running down his veins while walking towards you and Minho

Jin got to him quickly and dragged him back to the bar saying ‘Jungkook don’t! Be mature about it. You’ll ruin any chance you have with her if you get in the middle. Let her be’

Jungkook sighed and said with a defeating tone while looking on your direction ‘I fucked up, hyung. I like her, I don’t even know how to explain it… I just saw her yesterday and every time she smiled at me, I felt like I was going to pass out. I should have kissed her last night’

Jin looked the maknae with a pitiful look and while hugging him responded ‘Hey – if it’s meant to be, it’ll be – Maybe in time you’ll get closer and you’ll be able to tell her all of this. But if I were you, I’d be careful not to hurt her in any way because Chris will sure beat you ass’

And that got a little chuckle from Jungkook that left Jin content, his job was done. He somehow avoided Jungkook doing something that he would have regretted for sure later.

‘Come on, let’s get something to drink and swallow our sorrows’ Jin said while taking JK with him

°•○•°●♤♡◇♧•°○•°□▪︎☆♤

Alcohol was flowing freely in your body, everything felt numb. You loved how free you felt whenever a few glasses of alcohol were involved. It’s been such a fucking long time not feeling this good. You don’t overthink anymore, it’s the first time over the night that you don’t think about Jungkook and that blondie and you just let yourself enjoy every second of dancing with a handsome guy like Minho who’s been giving all his attention solely to you.

His hands are respectably on your waist while you turn around and have your back pressed against his chest, you don’t even care that your ass is brushing against his crotch. He doesn’t seem to mind, not at all because he doesn’t put any distance between you two. In fact, he grabs one of your hands and places it on the back of his head while one of his hands goes from your waist to your stomach, the palm of his hand holding you as close as possible to his body

Excitement overflows in your body, you’re trying so hard to act unaffected but once you share a look with Minho, you realized you’re failing to do so. His gaze is so intense, he’s driving you crazy and he’s not even doing anything… just sharing one dance with you, a very very close dance.

When you look away, you can feel his breath hitting the crook of your neck and God how you wish he would press those lips onto your neck. You don’t know when you got this bold, but there’s this sort of confidence boost that makes you shamelessly grind your ass against Minho’s crotch and that’s when his lips brush against your jaw… he knows what you’re doing… so, you take one more look at him, you realize his gaze goes straight to your lips and then to your eyes like he’s asking for permission.

And then your own eyes can’t help but do the same, your gaze going towards his lips and then look directly to his eyes while nodding. Without even sharing any words, he gives you the sweetest smile and then proceeds to kiss you.

You don’t know if it’s because you haven’t been kissed in a long time or the fact that you’re a little bit tipsy, you can’t even think straight… you just know that his lips feel so amazing against yours. So, you let yourself enjoy and start moving your lips against his own while you’re being turned around by his hands. Your hands go behind his neck and his hands stay by your hips, grabbing you tightly.

The first touch of his tongue entering your mouth makes you feel like you’ve been electrified, you feel 100x times horny than what you were already. You’re so close to him that you can feel his bulge starting to grow harder and you can’t help to moan once you feel him. You know he heard you, he stopped the kiss for a moment while looking at you in the eyes and smiling again. Then he kissed you once more, it was so passionately, you haven’t been kissed like this in ages.

That’s when you grabbed his hands and moved them from your hips to your ass and you could swear this time you heard him trying to restrain his groaning. You didn’t care you were in the middle of a night club surrounded by people, you just wanted to feel him

‘We should go somewhere else’ you say breathlessly – since when you sleep with guys that you just met? It came across for a split second in your mind, but you quickly shush all your thoughts away, right now you just want to enjoy the moment. Plus, just like Chris said, you’re not hurting anyone by enjoying yourself -

‘We can go my place’ you visibly see him gulping while he offers, you don’t know how but he looked so innocent for a second while he was telling you to go over his place

‘Sure’ you respond simply while giggling

By the time you’re walking hand in hand with Minho from the night club, you grab your phone quickly and text Chris that you’re leaving with a guy that you met in the club and that you’ll leave you’re location tracker activated – Chris always makes you do that in case you have any problem, so he can locate you easily - you don’t even wait for your friend to respond and get on an Uber that Minho called.

°•○•°●♤♡◇♧•°○•°□▪︎☆♤

The ride to Minho's apartment building felt long but it was maybe less than 10 minutes. The only moment when you weren’t kissing each other like maniacs was when the car slowed down because you’ve had arrived to your destiny. You almost jump out of the car while Minho was holding the door for you and helps you get out of it while also thanking the driver. As soon as he shut the door, he grabbed your hand and hurried guiding you through the building entrance.

You waited for 2 minutes until the elevator finally arrived, the longest 2 minutes of your life. While you were waiting for it, Minho cupped your face and gave you a sweet kiss on your nose and said ‘You’re so fucking gorgeous’ – gosh, you’ve a pool between your legs by now, it’s all you can think of – and as soon as the doors of the elevator opened, Minho clicked the button of his floor and as soon as he turned around you both threw yourselves at each other.

Minho opened his front door so quickly you didn’t even saw him taking his key out. He took you in and his hands were all over your body, fiddling with your tight dress, feeling every part of your body and all you can think of is: please just, take it off of me

He leads you to his bedroom while your mouths are attached to each other, oh my…this is really happening

Once you see his bed, you push him lightly and he lets himself fall and sit into his bed while he’s eye fucking you. You grab the end of your dress and while pulling it off from your neck you see him biting his lower lip, he seems hypnotized.

You sit on his lap in your black lacy underwear, feeling his bulge so hard and you almost salivate at the feeling. He goes for your neck with slow but intense kisses.

"Minho" you whisper, feeling his breath ghosting against your neck.

"Hm?" he hums, while he’s occupied sucking your skin, the tips of his fingers grazing over your exposed thighs.

"Please, fuck me" you keep whispering on his ear while grinding on him and he swears he could bust his nut right there just by hearing your sweet voice asking him to fuck you

‘Fuck, you’re so hot. Your wish is my command, gorgeous’ he says with a raspy tone

He then turns you around and your back touches the mattress, while he takes off his shirt and you swear your pussy just clenched by itself by taking one look at his toned body – Good, God, what do they eat in South Korea? Do they all look like they’ve just come straight out of a Calvin Klein’s publicity? – your hands start to work on his belt and pants while he’s smirking at your desperation.

Once he's only on his boxers, you palm his bulge giving him a few strokes through the fabric – and oh…he’s big that’s for sure - while he grunts at you and says ‘I swear you’re driving me insane’

His lips start trailing his tongue on your collarbone, a small moan slips out of your mouth and it’s just in a matter of seconds that your bra and panties are taken off you and thrown somewhere in the room.

You feel like you’re starting to blush and maybe he notices it because he stops for a moment while looking you straight to your eyes and says sweetly ‘If you want me to stop just tell me, it’s okay, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want’ and you respond ‘I do want it, I really do. It’s just that’s been a long time since I had sex and…I’m nervous’

‘You’re doing great if you didn’t notice’ – he says signaling his bulge while you both chuckle at the sight – ‘You’re so beautiful, baby’ he says and starts to kiss you all over again gaining some more moans from your mouth ‘Just tell me if you want me to stop’

‘Don’t. Please don’t stop’ you manage to mumble somehow. And that’s all he needs, your reassurance, because as soon as you gave him the green light, he connected his lips to your nipple while one of his hands is cupping your other breast, driving you insane, fogging your mind with nothing but pleasure

“Fuck, your tits, so fucking perfect, you like the feeling of my tongue in your tits, huh? I can tell baby, your body is speaking to me, who knew you were such a dirty girl?” he whispers in your ear and proceeds to bite your earlobe earning another moan from you, fuck.. the dirty talk is about to kill your pussy

Suddenly, you feel his fingers slipping inside you, thrusting in while his thumb rubs circles on your clit. You can’t help but scream at the pleasure his giving you, grabbing the sheets with a fist while he tells you ‘That’s it baby, keep moaning for me, we have to stretch you out so you can take me’

You’re blinded by pleasure by now, you feel the knot about to unleash while he keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. ‘Shit, yes – don’t stop – keep doing that, please. I’m cumming… I’m cumming’ you inform him almost screaming though he was already feeling how you were clenching around his fingers uncontrollably, ‘Yeah? Cum for me baby, come on, make a mess on my fingers like the dirty girl that you are’ and that was the final point. You came so fucking hard. Finally, you get an amazing orgasm and he rode you through it thrusting in a few more times his fingers. And then, when he finally takes them off, he licks his fingers and says ‘You taste amazing’ making you go crazier from all the dirtiness.

You grab him by the neck and kiss him tasting yourself on him and start taking off his boxers, you can’t wait anymore. Your thirst is still there, even though he just gave you one hell of an orgasm… you need him inside you right now.

He smiles through the kisses and grabs a condom from his nightstand, you watch every move he takes while he’s putting on the condom and giving himself a few strokes to check everything’s okay.

“Are you ready, princess?” Minho asks, while his hand is trailing your thighs. You respond ‘Never been more ready’ while you smile at each other, and that’s when he positions himself to be on top of you, his eyes trailing every part of your naked body as if he’s taking a mental picture of it.

You gasp when he enters you in one go, followed by a long pornographic moan from the sudden stretch you feel from his cock. He grabs your cheek, forcing you to look into his big eyes.

‘I’m gonna fuck you so hard, princess’ You stare into his eyes while he squeezes your cheeks. You whimper and he adds: ‘I’ll start moving now, okay?’

You nod your head, and he starts thrusting in and out, biting his lips while he pushes his cock deeply into you and you’re just a mess, you keep moaning at the amazing feeling of him inside your pussy.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt this, you feel like you’ve almost forgotten how it felt to have sex— how the fuck did you go a year without this?

“You feel so fuckin’ tight, fuck princess.” Minho moans on the crook of your neck, and you close your eyes taking all the pleasure in while your legs automatically wrap themselves around his waist as he is still thrusting at a slow pace, so you can get used to him inside you.

In the meantime, his lips are occupied on yours, his tongue entering your mouth and meeting with yours in a passionate kiss. That’s when he starts to thrust faster into you, and you moan desperately on the kiss.

“M-MMinho!!” You moan his name, and you hear him cursing loudly making him go feral, while you’re scratching his back with your nails as he thrusts roughly into you, without giving mercy to your clenching pussy.

The room is filled with the sounds of your skins meeting each other, you feel how insanely wet is your cunt, your juices and his cock mixing and how close you’re from your second orgasm.

You are out of this world, so out of it that you didn’t even realize but in a split of a second he’s out of your cunt and turning you around, putting you in all fours with your ass perked up while your hands are pressed against the mattress.

He thrusts his cock inside you once again and you both curse at the amazing feeling that it brings. His hands grab your hips while pounding you as fast as possible, he feels his cock starting to twitch and he says ‘God, princess, you feel so good, so warm, so fucking tight’ while the only sounds that come out from you are moans and his name being screamed all over again and again as if it was a chant.

He feels you getting tighter every second that passes and says, ‘My dirty slut wants to cum, huh?’ and you’re going crazy, you’re so close, so fucking close. You respond breathlessly ‘Yes, please daddy I wanna cum so bad’

You feel his balls slapping against your cunt while he sets a ruthless pace and then you feel one of his hands going for your clit, rubbing it while he keeps pounding you from behind and opens that dirty mouth of his saying ‘Cum princess, cum all over my cock’ and that’s it, that’s when you hit your second orgasm of the night while being a moaning mess.

As soon as he feels you cumming, clenching like crazy around him, he feels his balls tightening ‘I’ll fill you up so good baby, I’m cumming fuck fuck fuck’ he keeps cursing as he shoots his cum into the condom with a few more sloppy thrusts until he slows down trying to come back from his own high while you both are out of breath

A few moments later, he pulls out slowly. You can’t help but to fall onto the mattress while he’s taking the condom off and throws it away to a trash can near the nightstand.

He falls right next to you, both of you sweating like hell and still recovering your breaths while you share a look and start chuckling, still none of you over the mind-blowing orgasms you just had

‘That was-’ you start saying but he interrupts you by saying ‘The best sex I ever had’ while panting and you can’t help but to laugh again. ‘Yes, it was indeed’ you say

When you both recover, he says ‘Um, you can take a shower if you want. I can give you some of my clothes to sleep with if you’d like’

Well, thank God he’s not the kind of asshole that sleeps with someone and throws them out immediately after the act – you think to yourself. You look at him and say ‘Yes, a shower sounds amazing right now. Thanks’ and then you give him a sweet peck on one of his cheeks that he returns with one of his beautiful, sweet smiles while caressing the side of your face.

You take a shower separately and by the time he’s finished with his, you’re all covered up on his bed wearing nothing but one of his long shirts and a pair of boxers that he gave you. He gets in the bed wearing only boxers and you just can’t help but to think – what a fine piece of art – he pecks you on your cheek and says ‘It was an amazing night with you, goodnight princess’ and you’re already dozing off when you say ‘It really was, goodnight to u too Minho’

°•○•°●♤♡◇♧•°○•°□▪︎☆♤

Next morning, you got up with the sound of Minho preparing both of you breakfast. You had a nice talk with him where you both got to know each other a little bit better. He told you all about his job being a lawyer, he’s working in one of the most important law firms in Seoul now. He surely knows what he wants in life and that’s something you really like about him.

You told him about your job as a Manager in the Finance team in this big multinational tech company that you’ve been working for 2 years now and that thankfully when you decided to move to South Korea there was an opening at the Seoul Office so you didn’t even have to look for a new job, you just switched positions from your native country base to South Korea’s. Which honestly it was a big relief for you. Not having to look for a new job made everything so much easier to you.

Since the moment that you got up and went over to the kitchen to encounter him, the conversation with Minho was totally natural. It wasn’t awkward at all. It felt nice. It felt fresh.

Before you leave, he made sure that you have exchanged numbers and you both promised to see each other soon. You waved him goodbye before by his door frame and while you were waiting for the elevator his hands turned you around and he gave you the sweetest and most passionate kiss ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help it, you’re so addictive, princess’ he says - and that’s when the elevator comes, and you hit him slowly in the arm saying ‘Stop it – you’re making me blush’ while he chuckles he says ‘You’re so cute when you get shy’

You enter the elevator and tell him ‘I’ll see u soon, thanks for the breakfast…and last night’ and he gets to respond before the doors close ‘I’ll be eagerly waiting to see u again, thank u princess’

You realize when the elevator opens its doors again that you’re smiling like an idiot – what a good night that was –

Once you get home, you take out your cellphone from your purse and realize you have 5 messages from your best friend all from last night

Chris bestie: what? Who? what guy are you leaving with? When did that happened?

Chris bestie: what about JK?? Did he do something bad to you??? You better tell me because I’ll kick his ass if he did

Chris bestie: Honestly, I never felt so happy to say that my best friend is finally getting a dick again

Chris bestie: If anything happens and you need me to pick you up, I’ll be one call away

Chris bestie: Use protection, bestie! Have a nice fuck! ;)

You can help but to laugh at his messages while you start replying

‘God, I didn’t even realize how much I missed having sex until now’

‘I’m home by the way, safe and sound. And to respond your various questions, I met this amazing guy while having a drink at the bar. Remember when I went to the bath? Before you ditched me? Well, on my way there I saw a blondie sucking on JK’s face… so, I guess he has a girlfriend that I didn’t know of and clearly we were wrong about him having some kind of interest in me, I got it all wrong :/’

‘I’m not complaining tho – I did felt like an idiot for a while - but, because of that I met Minho and had the most mind blowing orgasms so, the night didn’t suck at all, not at all :)’

Clearly your friend was expecting your messages because as soon as you sent them, you saw that he read them and started to type

Chris bestie: ‘I told you it’s good for your health having sex!!!’

Chris bestie: ‘JK and a blondie? Wtf? JK doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least not that I know of, and I already told you, I saw the way he was looking at you… I’m sure he likes you; I don’t know about the girlfriend thing but I’m sure that he likes you’

Chris bestie: ‘Oh my god, I’m getting déjà vu of all the times that I sent you messages after a hook up but now the tables have turned! Well done my friend!!’

Chris bestie: ‘by the way, is this the same blondie you saw with JK yesterday?’

You download the photo that your best friend sent you and immediately recognize the blondie girl that was sucking JK’s face last night

‘Yep, that’s the blondie’

‘Honestly, I don’t know if he has a girlfriend or not. I only know what I saw. And they were kissing’

Chris bestie: ‘I knew it. The blondie’s name is Lina. JK hooked up with her for a few months, they didn’t get to be official because JK found out that Lina was hooking up pretty much with anything that moved on the Earth at the same time she was with him – so he stopped being with her a few months ago’

‘Well, it seems like he has forgiven her because she had her tongue down his throat yesterday. Anyways, it sounds messy and complicated and honestly, the last thing I need right now it’s something complicated. I guess JK and I will be friends from now on… or something like that’

Chris bestie: ‘As far as I know, he despises her. I really don’t understand why he would be kissing her again. It’s weird’

Chris bestie: ‘But anyways, I’m happy you had a nice and orgasmic night. Are you gonna see this Minho guy again?’

Are you? – you thought to yourself – and then all the sudden JK’s face with that Lina girl came right at you – God, why the fuck you keep thinking about JK when you had this amazing night with an amazing guy??

Whatever relationship that JK has with that girl is none of your business. It would be the best to maintain your relationship with JK as friends – just friends – and maybe you should give Minho a chance, I mean… if he’s also interested of course.

And you start reminiscing last night with Minho and all that wonderful sex. Yes, you should give it a try with Minho definitely

‘Yes, I think I’ll see Minho again’ you respond to your friend with a smile on your face

‘I’ll go take a warm bath, talk to u later bestie’

You leave your phone charging and head to have a nice bubbly bath to relax for a bit while listening to some music. After a good half and hour of being on the bathtub, you dry yourself and check on your phone where you had 2 message notifications.

You thought that Chris was the one that texted you, but you saw Minho’s name on your screen, for a moment your heart skipped a beat and you quickly read it:

Minho: ‘Hey princess, just wanted to make sure you got home safely. And I also wanted to ask you something’

Minho: ‘Do you wanna have dinner with me tomorrow night?’

Excitement overflows in your body. Did he just ask you on a date? Oh my god, oh my gooooodd!!!

‘Hiii :) I got home safely, thank u for asking’

‘Of course, dinner sounds great. It’s a date’ you responded immediately, and then you start regretting the message you just sent ‘It’s a date’ - maybe he wasn’t inviting you like a date date, oh my god what if you scare him away? Ughhhh why do I over think everything? Since when am I this idiotic when it comes to guys? – and while you were busy mentally scolding yourself your phone vibrates and you see a new notification

Minho: ‘Cool. It’s a date :) I’ll pick u at 8PM then, see u princess’

You have a date. With Minho. OH MY GOOOOOOOD!

Previous | Next

#jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #fic recs #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #lifetwist #jjk smut #jjk x y/n

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boltupbitches · 7 months

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The Great Outdoors

A week in the great outdoors sounded idealistic until reality set in. Hiking didn’t just mean scenic views and fresh air. It also meant insects, mud, sweat, dirt somehow getting into unimaginable places, poison oak and poison ivy, and the possibility of getting lost on a trail and being eaten by a brown bear or mountain lion.

Maria didn’t know which possibility would be worse of the latter, but she knew she had to suck it up for Justin’s sake. Her boyfriend was beyond excited to bring her to Oregon, particularly Eugene, to meet his family and close friends. Justin spoke so highly of the nature trails and parks that littered the region. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wasn’t the outdoorsy type.

The morning of the hike, Justin had taken her to one of his favorite diners he went to as a kid. They laughed and talked over stacks of pancakes and bacon as the waiter attempted to ply them with refills of water and orange juice. Justin was well-known around here - that was a given. The older waitress (Peggy was her name) doted on him as if he were her own son.

“I’m so glad you all stopped by here. It’s always good to see you, Justin. Please tell your mom I said ‘hello’. I’m sure she’s happy you brought such a beautiful girl home with you.”

Maria couldn’t stop grinning at the exchange as Justin’s face flushed beet red with embarrassment.

“I’ll let her know you said ‘hi’, Peggy.” He handed her a folded $100 bill with a small smile as the older woman gave him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and turned to wink at Maria.

“Great meeting you, dear. Keep him out of trouble!” She jokingly cautioned as she set off to her other table that just had people seated with menus.

Maria thought about that exchange as she struggled up the path Justin decided on. He was lucky she loved him so much to be in this current predicament. Her legs were not as long as his so Justin had to slow down anytime he picked up pace unconsciously. He didn’t complain at all. She also was sure she could no longer feel her calves from the last mile they walked. Being eaten by bears or mountain lions was starting to sound better with each passing minute.

Don’t even get her started on the insane amount of gear they were carrying because Justin was a meticulous man who was prepared for anything. That included a bandana he packed for each of them.

She mistakenly assumed it was for if they sweat too much.

Justin just grinned and said, “Nope. It’s what we’ll use in place of toilet paper.” He held up the plastic back labeled ‘waste’. “We’ll put the rags in here when we’re done.”

“Oh.” She almost gagged, “That’s… that’s convenient.”

Maria didn’t consider herself a high-maintenance girl. Not by a long shot. But as someone who grew up in urban spaces her whole life, this was extremely out of her comfort level and understanding. She was just thankful Justin didn’t make fun of her novice information on the great outdoors. If anything he was like an eager boy scout, eager to point out everything he knew.

Even in her miserable state, she couldn’t bear to snap at him when he stopped them to observe a yellow-bellied marmot that was scaling around a large rock, likely trying to find its burrow to return to.

When they reached a clearing on a cliff, he finally declared it was time for a rest and some lunch. Maria almost cried out “thank God” as she dropped her bag next to her as she leaned in exhaustion against a rock.

Justin was drinking from his huge canteen as he observed his exhausted girlfriend. She was digging the beef jerky from her bag as she ate ravenously, not even caring about manners in that moment. “Thanks for coming out here with me,” he said softly, his eyes shining with happiness at the sight of her. “Honestly, it means a lot to me. I know it’s out of your comfort level but you’ve been a huge champ.”

Maria smiled after gulping down the mouthful of chewed jerky. “Of course. It meant a lot to you. I wanted to spend the day doing what you wanted to do with being back home.”

Justin walked over to her and leaned down to press a kiss against her lips, not at all minding the salty and savory taste of beef jerky on her lips. He leaned back and pressed one more kiss to her sweaty forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She hummed back with her own matching smile.

They set about eating their lunch and quietly taking in the beautiful scenery around them. This is what Maria had in mind for a hike. She was glad to at least get this view. It was ethereal. It was beautiful. She felt like she was in heaven.

To be away from the constant noise of civilization and to just hear the beautiful noises of the breeze moving through the trees, the luscious grass gently dancing in that same breeze, and the sunlight spilling through as it encroached on shadowy spaces underneath the towering trees.

Justin put his arm around her and pulled her into him as he pressed another kiss to her temple. “I wish I could stay here forever with you.” He murmured against her ear.

“Me too…” She thought for a moment, “Well, maybe just right here the walk back will be hell and I am afraid of half the things that live in the forest here.” She admitted.

Justin laughed at that and said, “I figured. You’ve been a frazzled mess since we started this hike. I was so concerned you were going to pitch yourself off the nearest cliff if we hadn’t made it to the clearing when we did.”

“Glad my misery amuses you,” She said flatly.

“It does.” He grins as he lets her smack him in the stomach, barely feeling it. “But your happiness makes me happy too.”

She ‘hmphed’ at him and pretended to pout.

Justin just looked at her in amusement. “Wait until we go on a hike again tomorrow! More altitude and better views.” He was egging her on.

She took the bait. “Absolutely not! I’ll stay home with your mom instead.”

“Awww don’t be like that.” He urged. “It’s good exercise.”

“So is a treadmill on fat burn mode. I’m good. If the trail isn’t flat, I’m not interested. I’d rather let a bear eat me out here.”

“Dramatic.”

“I am - you knew that when you got with me, Mr. Social Media Quarterback.”

“Love you too, Maria.”

Maria couldn’t help but smile and notice how carefree Justin was now that he was back home. It was refreshing. The tenseness he usually carried in LA during the regular season was a lot that he shouldered. Here? He was just Justin Herbert, a man who loved football and the outdoors. Someone who tipped waitresses generously at small diners he grew up patroning. A man who was a walking encyclopedia of flora and fauna knowledge as he quietly pointed out each animal and plant they passed.

He was so endearing and everything she ever wanted in a man. She felt so lucky he trusted her enough to show her this part of him, the real him. As she looked at him, admiring the freckles on his face, she knew he was someone she could see herself spending the rest of her life with. Even if it meant going on the occasional hike to see this side of him.

#justin herbert fanfiction #justin herbert fanfic #justin herbert imagines #justin herbert oneshot

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darsynia · 1 year

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They Show Their Truth (one single time) | Oneshot

gif from @marvelheroes

Summary: Steve's managed to keep how he feels about Natasha a secret, but the vision he saw in South Africa shook him.

Caring about Natasha Romanoff this much means that when there's a chance to heal her wounds by revealing his secret, Steve throws himself on the grenade, because of course he does.

Length/Warnings: 5,443 | Porn with plot, unrequited love. Minors DNI

Tags (please forgive me if this isn't your thing, feel free to ignore if so 💚): @ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @deepbatched @chibijusstuff @caplanreblogsfics

This was written as a request for my friend @salovie a while back!

They Show Their Truth (one single time)

“I don’t trust a guy without a dark side.”

The worst part is that Stark would probably appreciate what Steve is struggling with. He might even trust Steve more because of it, and isn’t that just exactly the worst conclusion to draw, tonight?

Steve’s on his back on the floor in the Barton family room. He’d feel more comfortable if he could rest on his side with his back against the couch, second best to the wall, but every square foot of wall in this room is filled with shelving. Toys, books, puzzles; the accoutrements of a life he’ll never live, all stacked up with the chaotic order of an unexpected visit. The couch is ready for Natasha, with a sheet covering the cold, worn leather. He’s left her the handcrafted afghan and the better of the two pillows Clint’s wife had offered, and kept the sports fleece for himself.

It makes sense that they’ve put the two of them in here; whatever is going on between Bruce and Nat means it would be irresponsible to force them to share. Stark’s by himself on an air mattress in the laundry room instead of in the guest room with Bruce, because out of all of them, he’s the one most likely to accidentally set Banner off-- and just like Clint said, it’s not that they don’t trust Bruce. They don’t trust Tony.

Steve likes Laura Barton. It seems to him that she understands the purgatory they’re all putting themselves through, most of them, anyway. He sure as hell hopes she hasn’t caught on to his, but she couldn’t have.

If she had, she wouldn’t have put him in a room with Natasha.

He gets up and turns off the overhead light, using the chain, then flips off the switch. The ceiling fan’s breeze is just on the edge of too much, but if Nat wants it on, it’ll be set up so the light won’t disturb her. He walks over to the door and cracks it, listening. Laura and Natasha are still talking quietly in the kitchen. Steve pushes the door mostly shut again, and turns off the light that’s across the room from the couch, leaving just the one lamp directly next to it.

He winces. The room is now bathed in an orange-yellow glow that reminds him of the quality of light in the vision he’d seen in South Africa. The truth is that practically everything here reminds him of the vision.

The glint of the sun off of the axe had reminded him of the flashbulbs.

One of Barton’s kids had spilled juice, and its blood red color had been like the wine on the soldier’s chest.

A rare moment of collective laughter in the dining room with Nick Fury had pulled Steve out of the moment and thrust him, unwillingly, back into the vision.

He’d had to walk away, away from the mirth, away from her red hair as she faced away from him, so similar to the twice-damned vision where Peggy Carter had asked him to dance. As he’d turned to say yes, she’d spun away, dress flying off to reveal a tight-fitting black jumpsuit, the brown wig falling away to red, her familiar, beloved face morphing into Natasha Romanoff’s familiar, beloved face.

Because she is. Beloved. Despite everything. No amount of brutal training at the gym until his hands are numb and bruised, no amount of self-denial or self-recrimination has cured him of it. Hell, no monk has ever kept himself as pure for the sake of his God as Steve Rogers has, for fear of thinking of his teammate in a way that is definitely unholy.

The result has been the exact opposite of his intention; all roads lead to Natasha in his mind, because as ever, Steve Rogers aspires for that which cannot be. The only thing he’s learned from being chosen for the program, from rejecting orders and saving his best friend despite everything, from crashing the plane to save the world, from waking up after seventy years on ice, is that fate loves to give him what he wants.

And he wants her.

“Not this time,” Steve murmurs from his position on the floor, one knee up, arm behind his head.

“Well, if that’s the way it’s gonna be,” Natasha says in a sultry, teasing voice from the doorway.

Steve launches himself into a stand as if she’s the personification of an enemy, and in a way, she is.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Steve, but you’re a little edgy.”

“You and Clint are always telling me to rough it up a little, just trying to follow orders,” Steve jokes, backing up out of her way as she walks into the room.

“We were thinking more along the lines of getting you to watch some porn, grow some scruff,” she tells him. “So, you trying to be chivalrous, leaving me the couch and the best blanket?”

The tingling awareness he’s been fighting down for hours rears back to life at her provocative words, even more so when she immediately tempers them with a challenge about the couch. He knows her. Her behavior tells him that she thinks her words were reckless, that’s why she’s covering them. That means there was some truth to what she said, that they were revealing. If he were an enemy, it might be a trick to let him lower his guard, but she doesn’t know that he’s been fighting her in his mind for months. At least, he hopes to hell she doesn’t.

“Not at all,” Steve lies smoothly. “It’s pure math. I don’t fit.”

Nat turns her warm, impish gaze towards him and Steve feels a jolt of pure, unadulterated desire. Don’t, sweetheart. Don’t, he begs in his own head. She’s vulnerable, open, teasing, coy. Because she trusts him.

“Now, come on, soldier,” she says, sweetly mocking. “That’s boy scout math. Unimaginative math. I could probably fit the whole team on that couch if I had to. They might even enjoy it.”

He’s hardly ever seen her like this, but he knew she had it in reserve. “Well,” he says in his best regimental, Team Captain voice, hoping she won’t hear the regret he feels in pulling it out to dash water all over her lush, flirty flames. “That might be so, but that has nothing to do with sleeping.”

“Oh no, Steve,” she says, amused concern woven through the husk of her voice. “Turn it off, I absolutely cannot sleep with a Steve Rogers figurine in the room with me tonight!” Natasha comes over to him, her lips curved into a smile under furrowed eyebrows, and before he can fully understand what she’s doing, she’s got her hands on him, stroking along his back, and he’s hard, his heartbeat spiking, she’s going to know, fuck, fuck…

“Nat, what--” he chokes out, throwing his arms out wide in hopes that he can talk himself down before she walks back around.

“I’m looking for the pull cord,” she says, resting a hand on his arm so she can lean over and catch his eye. “For your sayings. You know, ‘It’s the American Way!’ and ‘Do it for your country!’”

Every single thing she says sounds like innuendo to him. To think that Tony fucking Stark thought he doesn’t have a dark side. He’s sworn more in silent frustration about this gorgeous, unattainable woman than Stark probably has in the whole year, on purpose, out loud.

“Lay back and think of Uncle Sam?” Steve suggests, forcing his limbs to move, walking toward the other side of the room as he pulls his arms out of the long-sleeved overshirt he’s wearing.

“I’ve actually done that, you know. Multiple times,” Nat tells him, chuckling.

“Are you going to sleep in that? Do you want me to leave the room while you change?” he forces himself to ask. She’s got her own dark, long-sleeved shirt on, over a soft, grey thing that clings to her curves in a wholesome, farmhouse way that doesn’t stop him from finding it sexy in the slightest.

“You wouldn’t have to even if I wasn’t,” she tells him in a voice that chastises him for even asking.

I don’t trust a man without a dark side, Tony’s voice repeats, in his mind.

He should have just confessed to Stark. ‘Some nights I’m so desperate for thoughts of Natasha that I’ve tied my hands to my own bedpost. Just enough resistance so I wake up if my hands drift down to touch myself. It’s her face in my erotic dreams, her body in my everpresent thoughts. Not Peggy’s. I’m not wholesome, Stark. I’m a sinner. A hypocrite.’

“The figurine comment was metaphorical, Steve,” Nat is saying. She’s inches away from him somehow, because once again he’s caught up in his thoughts. “You okay? Tony said you were unaffected, but--”

“He’s wrong. She got to me.”

“Yeah,” Natasha breathes, looking up at him. “Me too.” Her eyes are troubled, hurt, practically anguished.

Steve’s resolve weakens, and he smiles down at her with a fraction of his feelings showing through as reassurance. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Nat looks up at the ceiling and does a little frustrated shiver. “Talk, no. I either need to--” she breaks off and looks at Steve, her eyes shining with repressed tears. “There’s something really wrong about punching Captain America in the face because I need a release of tension.”

He thinks he knows what her aborted sentence was. I either need to hit someone or fuck someone.

Steve says what he was thinking out loud. “People see me as standing for the way things ought to be. Fairness. Doing your duty. Things working out the way they’re supposed to.” He lets out a short, frustrated sigh. “Life doesn’t always happen that way, and reacting with frustration against that fact is very reasonable. If you need to, go ahead. Punch me.”

“She really did get to you,” Nat whispers.

“I mean it. You know I can take it, Natasha. Physically, I mean. I won’t take it personally.” He wants her to. If he can’t have her softness, he’ll take hardness over nothingness.

The regretful vulnerability is back on her face. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew why I need it.”

“They’re trying to tear us apart, Natasha. The best way not to tear is to reinforce the connections you already have.”

“It’s not about what I saw. At all. It’s about wanting someone and being rejected, not even because I’m not enough, but because he’s too broken.” She reels back in reaction to even saying the words, and impulsively, Steve reaches down and takes her wrists, shakes them until she responds by resisting his actions.

“You didn’t want to set him off in Clint’s house. You won’t set me off,” Steve lies. She already has, in exactly the wrong way. “Shove me, hit me, punish me. Get it out.” He pulls her hands, despite her resistance, until they’re flat on his chest. “He said he was too broken?”

Natasha’s lovely face crumples for a split second before her jaw tightens in anger. She shoves him; Steve was ready for it, doesn’t stop himself, lets the momentum carry him back a little.

“As if being broken is some kind of contagious!” she bites out, her voice angry but restrained. There are children sleeping in the house somewhere, after all. “As if I’m not a shattered teapot--” another shove. “--held together by the kind of toxic glue that builds up--” she punches his shoulder in a jab that does more than sting. “--in your system until I’ve killed you just by doing my job!”

For the word ‘job,’ Natasha drops back and her foot flies out, catching him in the chest. If they had been anywhere else, Steve would have let the full force of it knock him across the room, as intended, but he can’t risk the sound bringing someone who might see the heat he’s trying to repress. Instead, he takes the hit, his foot braced on the door, which shakes but doesn’t make much noise. Steve ends up on one knee, looking at Natasha, who is breathing heavily out of fury rather than exertion.

“Isn’t that just the perfect kind of symbolism,” she sighs, sounding defeated.

Steve raises his eyebrows, biting his cheek inside his mouth against the way his pants are pulled tight and uncomfortable against his arousal. That should be enough to kill it, but she’s walking toward him and all he can focus on are her hips, the way they sway. He wants to see what they look like with his hand gripping them, his thumb pressing against the thin, delicate skin that curves toward her inner thighs.

“You have my shoeprint on your chest, Rogers,” Nat says.

“What, it’s visible now?” he quips. The hold she’s got over him has been too close to the surface for too long.

“Now don’t go trying to make me feel better,” she says in that rich, amused voice of hers, tossing him a look before starting back toward the couch. It reminds him of the first time he ever wanted her; she’d said something in that tone and he’d found himself suddenly desperate to trace the origins of the sound with his lips and tongue against her neck.

“Any man who doesn’t want you is definitely broken,” Steve tells her, standing.

If she doesn’t recognize his confession, is that his fault?

“Even if that’s true, and I know it’s not, I’m just as easy to brush off,” she says, nodding at the way he’s wiping away the dust of her shoe so it doesn’t soil Laura Barton’s bedclothes. His hands still, not just because of what she’s said, but because Natasha’s rolling up the sheet and tossing it to the side, adding the pillow seconds later.

“What are you--” he starts, cutting himself off when she tugs the couch cushion off of the frame of the couch and sets it beside his makeshift bedroll. “Nat?”

He can’t sleep beside her. He can’t not sleep beside her, not after Bruce seems to have done his best to fracture her confidence into little pieces just so he could sweep her away more easily.

“You asked what you can do? You can do this.” Her words are short, choppy, defensive. “I can’t sleep next to Clint and take my confidence from him, not when he’s doing that for Laura right now. Unless you--”

“Here, my arms are longer,” Steve says, picking up the sheet and unfurling it over the cushions for her before she finishes that final, uncertain sentence.

“Thanks, Captain,” she tells him, her lips twitching up into a tiny, precious smile.

“At your service, Ma’am.”

He doesn’t let himself watch her wriggle into a comfortable sleeping position, choosing instead to walk over and turn out the light. He seeks out his own sparse sheet and too-short blanket in the fresh darkness, turning his back so his arms can’t seek her out in his sleep. Steve does scoot back far enough that he’s up against her cushions, the only concession he’ll allow himself to her nearness. He reminds himself sternly that it is just to give her the warmth and closeness she said she needed, nothing more.

Steve wakes to the feeling of a small hand worming its way under the tight shirt he’s wearing. He can feel Natasha’s body pressed up against his back, all softness and curves and forbidden sweetness.

Is she awake??

This is the stuff of his nightmares, dreams he’s forcibly categorized as such because of the moral implications. Her arm has snuck under his, so he lifts his arm, hoping the change of pressure will be enough to wake her up. Instead, this earns him a closer snuggle, one where he can identify her breasts along his back, the dip of her pelvis molding against his ass.

“Nat?” he whispers.

“Cold,” she says, her lips and nose nuzzling the word against his shoulder. Steve doesn’t know what to think. Her hand on his stomach is warm. In his sleep-fuzzed laxity, he decides to react the way he assumes he would if he didn’t have an attachment to her, which is to roll over and encourage her to curl up against him to warm herself up.

Steve rolls onto his back, the movement brushing his body against her in thrilling ways.

“Mmm,” she murmurs, chasing his heat as he carefully scoots over so that she can slot into the warmth of the place he’d been lying. Steve only succeeds in moving about three inches before Natasha throws her right leg out and twines it around his left leg as she slips down from the thick cushions toward him. Before he fully understands what’s happening, she’s mostly on top of him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her hot hand tucking ever so slightly into his waistband.

“Natasha, this can’t be what you do with Clint,” Steve hisses at her, desperate for her to stop moving before he shames himself with the speed of how fast he hardens for her. So far he’s controlling himself through sheer embarrassment on her behalf, but that won’t last much longer if she keeps squirming.

“Mmm, you’re right. He would have shoved me off by now, and we would have sparred about it or I’d have headed off to have a hot shower and a thorough conversation with my own hands,” she says, her voice wavering between an actual whisper and a tone husky with vocal fry.

Steve is nearly speechless. “Shower it is, then?” he suggests.

“Fresh out of hot water.” Natasha tells him, using a firm grip on his waistband to haul herself across his body to straddle him. Steve lifts both of his hands up over his head in self defense, but he’s essentially lost the battle. She’d removed her pants at some point in the night, and she’s sleep-mussed and gorgeous. Their enemies’ mental handiwork has done its job, led him right to what he’s always wanted, and it’ll be the end of them. She has to feel his reaction to her.

He closes his eyes and turns his head away. “I’m not going to fight you,” he says.

“That much is obvious,” she observes.

“What do you want me to say?” he asks between gritted teeth. “Put any man in this position and he’ll react the same.”

“Anything but that,” Natasha says in a small voice. Steve looks at her and sees pain in the angle of her head, the tightness around her eyes, the straightness of her back. She’s not putting all of her weight on him, he can tell, and just imagining the coiled strength that she’s exerting to rest so lightly and devastatingly against his thighs is undoing him.

She’s holding steady, but it feels like she’s pressing down thanks to his reaction to her. His body is gorging itself on a futile hope, and there’s no way that Natasha Romanoff doesn’t know this.

“I’m not Bruce,” he says, simply.

Her smile is a slice of pain. “Obviously,” she says, lowering herself fully and rocking her hips, pinning him with a challenging gaze.

Steve’s instinct is to stop her, but when he tries, his hands clutch naked skin and soft lace. The smile she offers him in response freezes him in place.

He shakes his head, delighted, miserable. “What are you looking for? Validation?”

“Goddamnit, Rogers, stop trying to fix everything,” she says, grinding against him again, making him gasp. “If the team’s fucked, the team’s fucked, so why not fuck the team, right? That’s what I’m trained for.”

The agony in her voice is all the worse because she doesn’t sound vulnerable anymore, and her eyes have lost the sheen of regret. She’s bitter, determined, and so broken in the process that Steve aches for her in a whole new, terrifying way. He reaches up to touch her face and she slaps at him before grabbing him, tearing open her shirt and clutching his hand to her breasts, fighting to keep him from fisting it.

Steve sits up, alarmed at her violence, and she tightens her thighs against him, rocking rhythmically.

“This is just sparring with different weapons, Nat, don’t do this,” he says.

“It’s all I have,” she snaps. “It’s my role. Tony would do it, you know he would.”

The jibe hits him in just the right way to be really painful, and Steve wrenches his hand away from her breast, trying to mitigate the way she’s ramping his desire up so skillfully with the drag of her body.

“Tony couldn’t, not in the way you want,” he says, his heart pounding, realizing that her plea for him not to fix it will have to be the one that will go unanswered. He knows exactly what she needs. Exactly. It’ll rip him apart to do this, in all of the best, soul-destroying ways, but it’s what she needs. Steve Rogers, throwing himself on the wire for his team.

“You and your stupid fucking rivalry--”

Steve interrupts her by arching his back, thrusting up against her, holding her gaze. “That’s not it.”

Natasha’s still hard-edged, scoffing. “I should have realized that would set you off. It must drive you crazy that his giant tower puts him ahead in your dick-measuring contest.”

“You think Tony wants you the way I want you? He doesn’t,” he says, blunt and honest. Her hips stutter in surprise, and Steve lets himself slide one hand up to the front clasp of her bra, flicking it open. “He’s known you longer, sure.” Natasha’s green eyes are wide, stunned. He takes advantage of her momentary stillness to hold her steady as he sits all the way up, sliding his other hand up to cup her face. “But would he throw away everything he has at the very thought of kissing you again, on purpose this time? No.”

“Steve?” she breathes, hesitant, haunted.

“Say the word and I’ll sleep on the porch and never mention this,” he tells her, hoping to hell she doesn’t.

“What even is ‘this?’” Natasha asks, tracing his face with doubtful eyes. “You trying to make up for Banner? I’m not a grenade, Rogers.” Her words are vulnerable but her voice isn’t. She’s using it as a weapon, pushing her sex appeal into the tone, sultry and challenging.

He watches himself push one of her wild curls back behind her ear, indulging a long-held desire that has nothing to do with the other ways he wants to touch her. “Seems like you’re trying to blow up like one. You just picked the exact wrong person to prove your point.” Steve makes eye contact with her. “Since when do I lie to you? About anything?”

“You want me,” she states dubiously, tossing her head, shaking it as she questions him, as if even saying it at all is too much to be believed.

“Very much.”

“I find it hard to believe this is anything more than a seventy-year--”

Steve buries his hand in the curls at the back of her head and kisses her, pouring all of his longing into the sweep of his lips, coaxing her to respond. For all the time he’s wanted this, he’d always thought if he got the chance again, it would be like the first time. Unexpected, unplanned, uncomplicated, unrepeatable. Not like this. Not with ardor, affection, adoration.

Natasha shifts toward him after a few seconds, letting out a small noise and tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Her movement sparks the napalm in his blood, little explosions of pleasure that follow her hand as she grabs his shirt, dragging it up his back to bare it for her fingernails. Steve can’t help it, he thrusts up into the sweet heat of her thighs in his lap, even as she gasps her mouth open for him to taste her. Natasha pulls back and rips off her shirt.

“Touch me, please, Steve, touch me,” she begs, grabbing his hand from where he’s been gripping her hip like a lifeline.

“I--” he starts, completely forgetting what he was going to say as he watches her throw her head back as soon as he palms her breast, shifting his grip so he can trace his thumb across her nipple. “Ahhhh, fuck,” she groans. Steve dips his head to suck an open-mouthed kiss against her neck at the same time he uses both hands to circle his thumbs across her nipples again. The sound she makes in response is as resonant and aching as he’d always hoped it would be, from the outside.

“Do you believe me now?” he says, each word a kiss.

“I might need more proof. You could be very dedicated to my well-being,” she laughs. It’s throaty and sexual, and he surprises her and even himself by the way he abandons what he was doing to hold her down as he grinds his hardness against her yet again, blatant and demanding. “Yeah?” she encourages.

“Yeah,” he pants, screwing his eyes shut to settle the overpowering urge he has to wreck everything about himself and the team, rip off their clothing and rut with her. He wants to keep this, and to hell with Banner and his reticence.

“So, you’re saying…” she dangles, reaching down and unbuttoning his pants, taking down the zipper, and lifting herself up long enough for him to yank everything down in a frantic rush. Steve can barely believe what’s happening until it happens-- she takes him in her hand at the same time she curls her other hand around his neck to haul him down for a filthy kiss. Every single nerve ending in his body is a conductor for her electricity, and the two of them together prompt a chemical reaction that send his pleasure centers into overdrive.

With a herculean effort, Steve pulls back from the kiss, cupping her face with one hand, the other fisted in the fleece beneath them, channeling all of his excess energy and desperation. He’s not in control, and he knows he could hurt her by accident.

“Was supposed to be about you,” he manages to say between a gasp and a groan at the way she’s working him with expert movements.

“Are you kidding? You should see your face,” Nat says in that rich, sensuous voice of hers. “Very complimentary. But how did you keep this from me?”

Steve drops his head, overcome, when she leans over and tongues his nipple in a completely unexpected, devastating move. “S’wrong,” he slurs. “Ahhhhh, stop, stop, Natasha, you-- stop.” She stills her hand slowly, easing him into the loss of it, and it’s so thoughtful, so thorough, so Natasha, that the action cuts the last threads that held his heart back from its inevitable fall.

“Bet you never thought you’d try to stop me,” she whispers in his ear, hooking her chin over his shoulder for a second, her various movements inexplicable until suddenly they’re not, she’s naked and sinking onto him, and Steve’s gone, he’s gone, his back arching, hips chasing her heat and tightness.

“Shhh, shhh,” Nat reassures. Her hands smooth over his back, his arms, his face, and finally he can open his eyes and see her, sweat-touched and exquisite.

“Natasha,” Steve whispers, shaking his head. He has never felt so clumsy and imprecise in his life. “I wanted to make you see,” he tries to explain. She’s given him everything he’s wanted, freely, somehow, but his goal had been to tear apart her insecurities, not force her to support him in exposing his own.

“You did. You are,” she says, but he shakes his head, noses a caress onto her shoulder.

“We’re all a mess in so many ways, the team,” Steve tells her, groaning as she tightens around him, seeking out her lips to taste the groan when he strokes his fingertips over her nipple. “Most of our strengths are outside-in. Yours is inside-out. You’re made of steel, coated in silk.”

“You always fuck so poetic?” she teases, but her eyes are luminous.

“Gotta get it all out now,” Steve whispers, seeing his peak on the horizon and craving as well as dreading it.

“Steve,” she warns, and he shakes his head.

“You know I’m right.”

Natasha leans over, kisses his neck just under his ear, and whispers, “That why you haven’t really touched me?” she challenges.

“I’m inside you, that’s not enough?” he groans, knowing it’s not, feeling caught out, hating and loving the way she absolutely knows him. His avoidance had been subconscious, but she’s a master of that domain.

Oh my, is she.

Natasha sets a hand on his shoulder and caresses him all the way down to his hand, pulling him, unresisting, to just above where they’re joined.

“Touch me, Steve. Make it so every time I see your hands I remember this. If I can’t keep you, if this is it, if this is all I get, give me that to remember this by,” she whispers.

“Fuck, Natasha, you can’t just--” he groans, so close to coming his vision is whiting out, but she stills her hips.

“You kept this from me,” she says.

She’s right.

As penance goes, it’s appropriate.

Steve turns his hand, lightly probing and swirling his fingers exactly where she wants him to. Her reaction rattles him to the core; Natasha had always struck him as an inherently sensual person, even if she only let small glimpses of that show at any given time, and rightly so. But even a light graze of his fingers against that sensitive part of her takes her apart. It’s wrecking to watch, and he craves the chance to see it over and over, again and again, in any and every possible way, even as his orgasm approaches exactly like the tiny death the poets call it.

“God, Steve, yes. Yes, fuck, please, please,” she babbles, her mouth pressed against his shoulder to muffle the noises just enough for propriety, or so he hopes. “Please, sweet-- ahhhhh!”

Because fate loves to give Steve just what he wants, they come apart at the same time, the cloying, clenching, glorious pleasure bearing down on him just as the woman he cares so much about shakes and shudders and begs in his arms.

They hold still for long enough that each of them has to know it’s just to prolong the inevitable.

“Count of three?” Natasha finally whispers.

“No need,” Steve says, and they slowly pull apart, avoiding eye contact. He’s trying to decide which shirt to soil when she brings him a package of non alcoholic baby wipes.

“Thanks,” he says.

“No, thank you,” Natasha says. It’s sincere, he realizes. No sarcasm, no innuendo, no amusement, just a sincere, heartfelt gratitude that feels simultaneously like a slap and a caress.

“You’re important to me,” he mutters, pulling his clothes back on.

“Right back at you, Cap,” Natasha tells him. It’s the transition, he can sense it. He settles back onto the sheet, facing her this time, a tiny concession to plausible deniability. She’s perceptive enough to catch it, of course, but they’ve got a shared secret, now, and that’s just the way things are. There’s just one more thing to do, one final rip through a single word written on a mostly torn piece of paper.

“Don’t give up on Banner,” Steve tells her, his tone as kind and matter-of-fact as he can make it, right now. “Today was probably the worst day of his life. People don’t make rational decisions on days like that.” The smile feels bitter and truthful on his lips.

Natasha’s lying on her side, lifted those few inches above him by the height of the cushions she’s resting on top of. Her expression had been sober, maybe even sad, but on hearing those words, a tiny fraction of lightness crosses her face. One corner of her lip turns up.

“Really?”

Steve’s paper metaphorically flutters to the floor, the bold block letters of the word landing imprecisely, but readable. UNRE QUITED, it reads. The meaning of the first four letters of the second half are not lost on him.

“Really.”

#steve rogers x natasha romanoff #steve rogers smut #natasha romanoff smut #romanogers #romanogers smut #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #angst #romance #smut #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #stevenat

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octoberobserver · 2 years

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Aprons and Ascots - Benoit Blanc/Phillip Fic

(Read on ao3)

“Is that one of the tie-dye aprons Helen’s third graders made you?”

Phillip froze, left foot suspended over their notoriously creaky floorboard.

“Nothing gets past you, Sherlock,” he teased before turning on the spot to finish up the breakfast tray he had been surreptitiously preparing (or so he thought) for his husband before he was unceremoniously interrupted.

“One for every day of the week,” he continued as Blanc crossed to the coffee maker. “They meticulously chose the colours and patterns for all seven of them. Being back in their classroom, even on a staggered basis has done them the world of good, it seems. They’re a very nice payment for my legal fees.”

All of Andi’s assets had been released to Helen months ago, but neither Blanc nor Phillip had accepted a cent for their detective or lawyer services. Watching that shithead Bron suffer under the weight of his own idiocy had been payment enough as far as they were concerned. Well, that and Helen’s sugar cookies. Those too. Not all baking had halted when lockdown lifted, thank God. Though he could admit, his own kitchen endeavours probably had, for the greater good of his tastebuds and waistline.

“I will say, I’m glad it was an open and shut case, to be sure, for our dear Ms. Brand’s sake,” Blanc murmured between sips of his coffee, coming up to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder. “But I’d also be remiss if I didn’t admit that I rather mourned your very delectable lawyerin’ theatrics during the trial.”

“Says the most dramatic man in the world,” Phillip scoffed back, slapping his hand away when he attempted to reach toward the buttered toast.

Blanc wasn’t easily deterred, however, merely stepping closer and leaning his chin on his shoulder.

“Watching you tear down the Thrombeys’ revolving door of rabid dogs was very sexy and debonair, Mr. Thacker. I have missed the spectacle.”

Phillip chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for the orange juice.

“You just like my courtroom voice, Mr. Blanc.”

“Lord help me, I do.”

Their eyes met.

“Hmm. Well, aren’t I ever so glad a certain private detective convinced me to leave my bustling London law firm and spend the next two decades setting up sticks Stateside?” Phillip replied cheekily, hip-checking him out of the way and carrying the laden tray over to their breakfast nook.

It was all true, of course—he had fallen for the (Texan? Louisianan? He hadn’t been sure at the time) foreigner whom he met when he had been under suspicion of the murder of his boss, of all things, near Westminster Abbey, in 1998. Benoit, who was reluctantly brought there at the behest of Phillip’s other, very rich, very powerful boss, had ruled him out immediately, but somehow still found a way to keep questioning him, much to Phillip’s baffled delight and to Scotland Yard’s continued annoyance.

It had been the meek personal assistant who had done his boss in, in the end. And once the guilty party had been stuffed into the back of a patrol car, Blanc had turned to him, with his mesmerizing gaze and in his famous Southern drawl, set his heart racing with words he would never forget.

“I confess, Mr. Thacker, but I feel a type of connection with you. As if we’ve known each other all our lives. I cannot make any sense of it…compels me, though.”

They had dinner that night.

And almost every night since.

For twenty-three years today, Phillip Thacker had spent his life with the whirlwind that was world-renowned, private-detective, Benoit Blanc, and he wouldn’t give up one single second of it.

Well. Maybe the lockdown sulk baths. They could stay firmly in the past, thank you very much.

“Oh, speaking of those wretched Thrombeys, Marta wants us over for dinner at six pm on Friday. Her mum is making that delicious Ropa Vieja again. Natasha wants us to save her some leftovers.”

He could feel Blanc’s steely blue eyes follow him as he set himself up at the nook.

“Those leftovers stand no chance against your midnight munchies,” he smoothly retorted, joining him, taking his usual seat opposite, newspaper folded under his arm.

��I already told her that,” Phillip smirked.

They tucked into their cheese omelets, toast, tea, and coffee, respectively.

“A package arrived for you earlier,” he piped up after a few minutes, as innocently as he could, knowing there was absolutely no way he was getting anything past his husband and loving him anyway.

“Oh?”

Those gorgeous eyes locked onto him like a beacon.

“Another mysterious box,” he added, trying and failing to hide his smile behind his cup of tea.

“Well now,” Blanc smiled back, “that’ll be somethin’ for after this very nice meal. Thank you,” he raised his glass of orange juice in a toast. “Happy Anniversary, mon chéri.”

“Happy Annivesary, love,” Phillip echoed, clinking their glasses before gesturing out to the hallway. “I did try to get it closer to the bed for actual breakfast in bed this time. But you caught me, as always.”

Blanc gave a half-shrug.

“You have as many tells as you have talents.”

“Of course I do, dear. And you know every single one.”

Blanc narrowed his piercing eyes, pensive.

“Not every single one. For example, I had no earthly idea that you brushed up on your art law to help bury Bron deeper than a groundhog in December.”

“Miles Bron is an insufferable, murderous twat and he’ll get everything he deserves,” Phillip sipped his tea before lowering his cup and clasping his hand. “But I am glad I can still surprise you, even after all these years.”

“Compel me,” Blanc murmured, squeezing his hand back and leaning in to peck his lips, humming into it when Phillip deepened it, turning it just a little devious, as was his wont.

Once they finished breakfast, Blanc filled the dishwasher and made his way out to the living room, calling over his shoulder.

“I have a new movie we can watch.”

“As long as it’s not another one of your blasted rom-coms, Ben,” Phillip yelled back, head deep in their pantry, searching for the chocolate biscuits his mother shipped over for his birthday. They were perfect for dipping in his tea, much to Benoit’s disgust. “You know I loath them more than you loath Cluedo.”

“We call it, ‘Clue’ here, darlin’,” Blanc retorted same as always, edging closer to the large, dark box sitting pretty by their front door.

Phillip emerged, biscuits in hand, just as he was grinning down at the familiar handwriting, tearing the cardboard open with zeal and laughing in delight at what it revealed.

“Tie-dye ascots! Seven of them! Just look at these beauties. Helen’s students are marvels.”

Phillip chuckled as Blanc tied the ascot more like a neckerchief in his haste and began inspecting himself in the mirror.

“You look as handsome as ever.”

He made a mental note to send a card of thanks for the extra anniversary present. Helen Brand and her clever third graders truly were a godsend.

#glass onion #knives out #benoit blanc #benoit blanc/phillip #my fanfiction #listen hugh grant was on our screens for 26 seconds and i was compelled to write this #benoit blanc x phillip

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spahhzy · 1 year

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"I'm changing the locks Blake"

Blake looked up from her book at Jaune with an eyebrow raised.

"Okay, just make sure you give me a new key," She said before going back down to her reading while trying to snuggle into Jaune, whomst quickly got out of bed.

"No, I'm sorry, but this joke has gone on long enough," Jaune said as he began to get dressed as Blake once again looked up from her book.

"And again, I'm telling you that this isn't a joke, Jaune," Blake said as she set her book aside and got out of bed.

Jaune just sighed, really, not in the mood to fight early in the morning. Instead, he chose to head downstairs to the kitchen, where he would cook breakfast for both of them.

"Get dressed, please... Lord knows what would happen if people got the wrong idea. " Was all he said, which Blake opened her mouth to retort, but the closing of the door stopped her.

It didn't take long for breakfast to be served two plates on each end of the small table.

Blake joined Jaune and let out a hum of approval over smelling the delicious food.

Jaune smiled and served them both.

They ate contently in silence.

"So when are you going back?" Jaune asked as he wiped his mouth of crumbs.

"Back where?" Blake asked, tilting her head as Jaune found it very cute but pressed onward.

"Uh, back home? You know to your wife?" He said to her as he eyed a piece of toast.

"Ugh, not this again, Jaune. I'm not married to Yang what so ever, and whatever joke you think this is? It isn't, " Blake argued, to which Jaune said nothing before pulling out his scroll and dialing a number.

"Who are you calling?" She asked, and Jaune said nothing as the scroll rang for a few seconds before suddenly someone picked up.

"Jaune? How are you? Are you alright?"

"Hi, Miss Belladonna, yeah, I'm alright doing well actually...hey I know you wanted to Blake to come visit you every once and awhile and I think she is feeling pretty homesick" Jaune said much to the shock of Blake.

"Yeah, I'll book her a bull head, and she can spend a few weeks with you? How's that sound? Great! I'm sure you both will be delighted...mhmm, okay I'll tell her bye Mrs. Belladonna!" Jaune put down the scroll, and Blake looked at him a little angry.

"You called my mom!? Why!" She asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I figured you could use the time spent with your family... maybe take Yang with you or something" As soon as Jaune said that Blake threw her hands In the air in frustration.

"I'm not- for fucks sake- married to Yang, Jaune, where ever the hell your getting this picture of me and her together is out of fiction, we had something and then we separated but for God's sake we are NOT married, why do you think I'm joking about this!" Blake said to which Jaune just rubbed his eyes.

This was becoming a headache.

"Blake, I saw you two get married. Hell, I was even there for you two first kiss together. Come on, and yall have been happy ever since, then one day you start plopping into my bedroom every other night and hugging and cuddling all up to me" he stopped and took a drink of his orange juice loving the taste before continuing.

"It's a joke, a long played out no punchline joke, which I'm still shocked you got every one of our friends in on it," He told them before getting up and taking all the dishes on the table and setting them into the sink.

" 'Haha, the prank on Jaune Arc will be one for the history books' Is something i imagine your wife saying, Blake, but I think I have limits and trying to fuck me while your married is that limit" Jaune said and Blake just sputtered not sure what to say, still in disbelief that he would think this is all one big joke.

"So sis-"

"Don't start that, sis shit," Blake gritted angrily to which Jaune shrugged at her still washing the dishes.

"I mean, it's what we are, aren't we?...look before you end up doing something you'll regret, go see your mother for a week or two... take Yang with you and have some fun" He said as he put the last dish away before walking to a coat wrack and grabbed a white coat.

"Where are you going?" Blake asked and Jaune chuckled.

"Out...and when I come back, the locks will be changed," and with that, Jaune closed the door, leaving Blake all alone.

Sniffle.

"Why don't you believe me?"

#jaune arc #blake bellodona #knightshade

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mydarllinglover · 1 year

Text

Alone || Jailbreak

Laura had opened the door of her cell only a little while after putting her in there.

She put down a paper plate, a sandwich on it, she also put down a glass of orange juice.

"What's in that?" Natalia asked.

"Why, you allergic to something?" She remarked.

Natalia hesitated before nodding.

"...Nuts."

Laura scoffed.

"Seriously?"

Natalia's face didn't change.

"You're good. Really. You saw what just happened, I'm not tryna kill you."

"Thanks." She muttered. "For out there."

"That was nothing to do with you, I saw an opportunity and I took it. You'd be smart to do the same, could be stood where I am, instead of sat where you are."

"Thanks for the food." She took the sandwich, looking away from the woman.

Laura exhaled, shaking her head as she stood up, leaving the cell and shutting the door, submerging her in darkness.

Some time had passed when she heard someone outside her door, she waited in anticipation when a note was slid under.

She took it, reading it.

Go now. Was written on it, nothing else.

She didn't know if she could trust this, but she didn't have any other options.

She waited a moment, before slowly opening the now unlocked door.

Checking the empty hallway, Natalia ran down it, she was able to map out the place from her walks with Laura, she knew the main exit, so she simply had to find another without getting caught.

She had walked down one corridor in particular, she hadn't seen this area before, well, she wasn't sure, they looked all the same.

She could hear people talking, when she went to take a step back, a hand grabbed a hold of her waist, the other covered her mouth as she let out a muffled yelp.

She was pulled into a room, pressed against the door.

When Natalia looked up at her attacker, her heart stopped as she met the blue eyes of Daryl.

"Oh... oh my god!" She whisper yelled, throwing her arms around him, he hugged her back, dropping his head in the crook of her neck as she pet his hair.

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes as she cupped his face, taking him in again before kissing him hard.

"I missed you, so much." She wept, keeping as quiet as possible. "I missed you so much, baby, I'm so sorry, I love you, so, so much." She hugged him again.

"Come on, get you outta that ugly dress." He pulled away, picking up a random shirt.

He was already out of the grubby outfit, in random clothes, that definitely were not his style, he was wearing a T-shirt and plaid, for Christ's sake.

Natalia pulled the straps off as he put the head hole of the shirt over her head, letting her put her arms through the holes as the dress fell around her waist, he then passed her a random pair of pants, that she had to fold at the waist, on account of them being too big.

Once she was dressed, with a jacket on, he sat down on the leather chair, grabbing two jars of spread, avoiding the peanut butter.

"No, I already ate." She told him, sitting on his lap as she brushed his hair back, when he tried giving her one of the open jars.

He grunted in response, trying to put it in her hands anyway.

"No, really. After what happened out there.... Laura thought she'd make it back up to me, eat up, Daryl."

His arm around her waist tightened as he thought about everything the Saviours had put her through, but he ate the contents of the jar.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." He said so quietly, she could barely hear him.

"Daryl, don't." Natalia told him, lifting his chin so she could face him. "Nothing that happened was because of you, I got us into this, what they did to you..." She trailed her thumb across his cheek, over the bruises and cuts, from when they beat him. "What matters now is that we're together, and we take these fuckers out, all of him, we're going to kill him, I know Rick, he has a plan, we're gonna fight back, but we need to get out of here."

He nodded, looking down.

They could hear the voices outside still, but it was time to go.

Natalia got off of Daryl, lacing her fingers with his as he stood up, grabbing a hat off of a line, he then looked at the board full of wooden figures, flipping it, the little figurines crashing to the floor, he squeezed Natalia's hand as they fled the room, running down a hallway.

Daryl stopped at another door, pulling Natalia back.

A group of Saviours were in one of the rooms, they were hanging out as loud music played.

Once it was clear they hadn't been spotted, he pulled her along.

They had reached a trolley full of metal bars, he grabbed one in his free hand.

The pair reached a door, leading to outside, where all the bikes were stored.

Daryl ran to one, his bike. Natalia was still right behind him.

"What the hell." They looked up, Fat Joey was eating a sub, staring at the two. "Woah. Woah." He put his hands up in surrender. "Its cool, I swear. Buddy, you and your girl can walk right out that back gate there, and I won't say anything to anybody." He pleaded his case, as Daryl inched towards him, Natalia watched in silence. "I'm supposed to be there now, but, listen, I'm... I'm just trying to get by, just like you, and her. Please."

Daryl hit the man over the head with the pipe, knocking him to the ground, he continued to smash his head in.

"Daryl." Jesus had arrived out of nowhere.

"Daryl, Daryl stop." Natalia told him.

He didn't, he continued hitting the man.

Natalia walked towards him, when he had stopped, looking at what he'd done.

She touched his back, taking the pipe out of his hand, dropping it to the ground.

"Daryl, Natalia." Jesus repeated.

Daryl had spotted something on the man, bending down and grabbing Ricks colt python.

"It ain't just about gettin' by here." Daryl said. "It's about gettin' it all."

He walked back to his bike, pulling Natalia away from Fat Joey.

"I got the key. Let's go." He told her, starting the bike as she got on the back.

"Get to Hilltop." Jesus told them, "It's why I came for you both."

"What about you?" Natalia asked him.

"I'll be right behind you, get out of here."

That was enough for Daryl as he drove out the gates, away from the Sanctuary and towards the Hilltop.

When they had got to Hilltop, it was Kal who had opened the gates for them, letting them into the community.

As soon as Daryl had stopped the bike, Natalia jumped off it, running towards the three women that had saw them come in.

"Oh my God!" She yelled, running into the arms of Maggie, hugging her tightly, but not too tight. "I... I thought you were- You're okay, the baby, how's the-"

"Fine, baby's fine, perfectly healthy" Maggie told her, "I'm glad you're here, you're both safe." She hugged Daryl as Natalia embraced Sasha in a hug, then Enid.

Jesus meant it when he said he'd be right behind them, turning up straight after.

"Let's get you two washed up, and in actual clothes." Sasha told them, leading them towards where the three women were staying, in Jesuses home.

"How many times are your jeans folded over?" Enid asked.

"About four, still a bit loose." Natalia answered.

The three women gave them some privacy so they could get clean and dressed.

Once they were ready, and out of the clothes they had stolen, and in outfits that actually suited the pair, and fit, Maggie and Sasha had led them to two graves.

Natalia knew who these belonged to, her friends, the ones Negan had told her he killed because of her.

On top of each grave, sat twin darts, the darts Natalia had handed out to her family in the train cart.

"I thought I was the only one who still carried mine." Sasha shared when Natalia knelt down, touching them. "Turns out, all of us did."

Daryl joined her on the ground, his hand on her back as they mourned their friends, she let the tears roll down her cheeks silently.

"We're going to avenge them." Natalia promised. "That mother fucker is going to die, I assure you."

"I know. He has to, it's what they deserve." Maggie nodded, her voice was harsh as she stared at the gave of her late husband.

Glenn was a beautiful, kind and pure soul, he never wanted any of this, he only wanted peace, and for his family to be safe and well, and to raise his child with the wife he found himself the luckiest man to have.

Abraham was a fighter and a loyal friend, he did everything in his power to protect his people, no one had missed how he made himself big, looked as much as a threat as possible to Negan, so that he would choose him.

And the asshole didn't even care to say their names, that's what made Natalia angry, he had killed them, regardless of who they were, what they had done for others, the lives they had, how much they meant to the people around them, reduced them to nothing but numbers.

Dinner had gone and passed, the people of Hilltop were settling down as dusk was approaching, Jesus showed the pair where they could stay for the night, in a real bed.

"He didn't do anything." Natalia had said, they were both layed down on the bed, beside each other, it was late, they were soaking up the comfort of being together, after so long apart.

Daryl didn't respond, but he did glance at her.

"Everything he did, they were just words, mostly, I think, to get a rise out of you. He never touched me or...anything."

"He actually ask you to marry him?" He asked, subconsciously running his fingers up and down her arm.

Natalia sat up, looking down at him.

She closed her eyes as she nodded.

"I woke up in one of the cells, all my weapons were gone, was just in... I was brought to one of the rooms, wanted to talk to me, made it look like some fucking date. Told me it was all my fault." Her lip quivered as she spoke, her voice coming out croaky. "All of it, said it was because of me, then he proposed it, said that he'd make my life better, he'd keep you around, just for me, so... I couldn't." She shook her head as he sat up, tangling his fingers in her head, hugging her to him. "I thought about it, when he said it, I told him to go to hell, he said he'd ask again in a few days, see if I changed my mind, I was thinking it over, for us, for you, so you'd be safe, so they wouldn't... I can't take seeing you hurt, that woman, Sherry, she told me to, she was married to Dwight, right?"

Daryl nodded.

"But I knew I couldn't go through with it, would never do that to you, even if it cost me my life."

"I know." He muttered. "Wasn't your fault. None of it."

"The only person I could ever see myself marrying... is you." She looked at him, confused with herself for confessing that, she'd never even thought about it before.

"Don't mean that." he looked away, knowing that her mind was all over the place, there was so much going on.

"No, I think I do. Daryl, I wanna marry you." Natalia moved to sit on top of him. "We're going to war, one that we might not make it out of."

"Nat, don't say that." He told her, placing his hands on her hips. "We will."

"Maybe, but we might not, and if I die, I wanna die as your wife, I love you Daryl Dixon, you're the only man I wanna spend the rest of my days with, by each others side, call me clingy, but I never wanna leave you, ever again."

"I love you." He squeezed her hips. "But you don't wanna marry me, I ain't gonna be a good husband."

"You will, because you're who I want, its not gonna change us, I don't need you to act any different, you're perfect. I'm serious, I want to get married, we have no idea what's going to happen, but this, I'm certain about."

Daryl nodded, thinking about it.

"Told you before, I'm gonna give you whatever you want."

"But, I only wanna do this if you do, if you don't, you can say no, I don't wanna force you into anything."

Daryl let out a snort.

"What?" Natalia asked, going to get off of him, but he kept her there.

"Been planning it for a while." He told her.

"What?"

"Back on the road, before we met Aaron, I went off to go hunt, found these two walkers, both were wearing rings, it's stupid." He shook his head.

"No, go on, what?" Natalia, pushed her hair back, leaning forward, wanting to hear what he was trying to say.

"I took 'em, I was thinking of you, about finding the balls to actually talk to you, you know, like this, never thought it would actually happen, but I took them anyway, all three rings, carried them with me, every day since I found 'em. Told you it was stupid."

"It's not, it's not stupid, I was just too blind to realise, but I know that I love you, now. You're mine." She cupped his face, kissing him hard, he kissed back, both had a lot of time to catch up on, with one another.

Eventually, she pulled away, breathlessly.

"Where are they now, the rings?" She asked him, pushing his hair back.

"That room we were in, back there. Was Dwight's, prick had them sat on his table, took all my shit. Got 'em back, though."

Daryl rolled over, reaching for his jeans whilst she was still atop of him.

He grabbed what he was looking for, having them in his closed fist.

Natalia held her breath as she waited for him to reveal them to her.

"We ain't gotta have a wedding or nothing, right?" He asked her.

"Fuck no." She scoffed. "This is what I want, I want you, Daryl. But maybe we can get Gabriel to officiate it after all this."

"We ain't religious."

"Yeah, but so it's like legal and stuff."

"Nah, Merle told me once, weddings are all cause of Capitalism, all that craps bullshit."

"Merle said that?" Natalia remarked.

"Yeah."

"Babe, Merle said it and it being true are two separate things."

"He knew stuff." He said, sounding insulted.

"Are we doing this or not?" They were getting offtrack.

Daryl opened his fist, displaying the rings.

"Ain't much, something though." He shrugged.

"No, they're perfect." She whispered, looking at the simple silver bands, then the beautiful diamond encrusted engagement ring, it wasn't too big or flashy, which she appreciated, it didn't look delicate either. "I can't believe you thought about marrying me before even asking me out." She laughed.

"Shut up." He pinched her side with his free hand.

"You're adorable Daryl Dixon." She cupped his face again, smiling wide as she pecked his lips. "Go on, ask me."

"Why? You're the one who brought it up." He pointed out.

"Because, we're having some semblance of tradition."

"Alright, fine. Natalia Moore will you marry me?" He asked, sounding bored, but she could feel his heartbeat, telling her he felt the exact opposite.

"Hm, let me think about it." She put her finger to her lips, tapping it.

He pinched her side again.

"I guess, yeah, I do." She smiled giddily.

He took a hold of her left hand, sliding the diamond ring on her finger.

"Damn, If I knew we were doing this, I woulda got my nails done." She commented.

"Can you stop?" He looked up at her.

"Alright, alright, next part, I'm already bored of being engaged." She teased, pecking his lips again.

"Jesus, woman." He sighed, but he loved her antics, but he wasn't about to encourage her by admitting that.

Daryl placed a band in her palm, keeping the other one for himself.

"Wait." Natalia halted, getting off of him and walking to the table across the room.

She picked up a notepad and a biro, walking back and straddling his waist again, bunching the covers up around her.

"What are you doing?" He asked as she wrote on the paper, hiding it from him.

"One sec." She told him, finishing it. "Here." She turned the pad around.

In bold letters at the top of the page, she had wrote. MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE

She had also wrote out the other stuff, making lines for each person to sign.

"Sign here." She told him, passing the pen.

He did, in his messy chicken scratch handwriting.

Daryl Dixon

"You don't have a middle name?" She asked him.

"No, first and last is enough." He replied.

"Oh..." She took the pen back, flipping the pad to face her, so that she could sign her name, which he snatched up to read.

Natalia Isabelle Moore

"Isabelle?" He scoffed.

"It was my grandmas name." She furrowed her brows. "Fuck, do you know what day it is?"

"Think it's been a week since Evie's birthday." He looked up, trying to think as well, considering they had both been locked up in a cell for who knew how long.

"I'll leave that until tomorrow..." She decided, dropping the pad on the floor.

Daryl took her hand again.

"Natalia Isabelle Moore, will you be my wife?" He asked.

She giggled, kissing him one more time, before answering.

"I do." She replied, as he slipped the band on her finger. "Daryl Dixon, will you do me the honours of being my husband."

"Yeah, I do." His free hand entwined in her hair again, as he looked up at her, as if she was the most beautiful thing to grace the earth, which, to him, she was.

Natalia slipped the other band on his finger, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him more passionately than ever.

"That make me Mrs Natalia Dixon, now?" She asked, the biggest smile he'd ever seen, on her face.

"You marry me just to get back at him?" Daryl replied, though he didn't fully think that.

Natalia tapped her chin before replying.

"Can't get a divorce." She said. "No take backsies. Wanna fuck now?"

"Really?" His eyes went wide as he adjusted himself under her.

"Obviously, it's our wedding night after all." She told him, lifting her t-shirt, pulling it over her head.

"Anything you want, Mrs Dixon." He pulled her forward, by the back of her head, kissing his wife.

He trailed kisses down her jaw, then her throat, reaching her chest as she leaned her head back, revelling in the sensation.

"Missed these." He rasped, his lips grazing across her left breast, palming the right.

Natalia supported herself with one hand, massaging his scalp with the other.

"Fuck, baby, I missed you, so much." Natalia sighed contently, then pulled his face towards her by his jaw. "But I need you inside me, like, now."

"Yes Ma'am." He nodded, as she pulled his shirt off, over his arms.

She reluctantly got off him as she took her pants off, him kicking off his own, before she climbed back on.

She grabbed his hand, directing it to her heat as she straddled his stomach, running her nails down his chest.

He did what he knew she loved, putting pressure on her clit as he circled her walls, it was already soaking, ready for him.

She reached behind herself, his dick was rock hard for her, she ran her thumb over his tip, his hips jerked as he let out a hiss.

"Ready?" Natalia whispered.

He grunted in response, jerking his hips up again.

"Yeah, need ya, baby." He was almost breathless.

She lifted her hips, her knees holding her up as she grabbed a hold of him again, lining up with her entrance.

Natalia lowered herself on his dick, she bit her lip as she attempted to suppress her moan.

His hands clamped down on her waist, his fingertips bruising her skin.

She threw her head back as she rolled her hips.

"Feels so good." She murmured, her hands rested on his bare chest. "No one else can make me feel like this, only you."

"You're perfect." He groaned, thrusting his hips again, not being able to help it, as she clenched around him.

Natalia continued to roll her hips, before she was comfortable enough to lift herself up, coming back down.

She had managed to find a rhythm, though it hadn't gone unnoticed by the man as he picked up on the feeling of her grinding her own name with her hips, it almost sent him to orbit, knowing this woman was now his wife, that she was willing to die than give him up, he didn't think it was possible that anyone could ever love him as much as she did.

He was completely in love with her, he didn't even know it was possible before he met her, and he'd be dead before ever leaving her side again, ever letting anyone hurt her, she was his wife and he was her husband.

When they had came, she had made sure they did it together, reaching their climax in harmony.

She let out a whine as her walls clenched around him, seeing stars by how tightly shut her eyes were.

It was one of the most intense orgasms she'd ever had.

He kissed her as he emptied inside of her tight, warm walls, the kiss was aggressive, their teeth clashed as they clawed at each other, not being able to get enough of the other person.

Natalia rested her forehead against Daryl's her chest raised and fell as she caught her breath, he was doing the same.

"I love you." She whispered. "Daryl Dixon."

"Love you, Natalia Dixon." He smirked, pulling back so he could kiss her head.

The next day, more people had arrived.

Jesus had went with them as they headed to the gates.

Rick, Michonne, Tara, Carl and Rosita were stood there, talking to Maggie.

When Rick had spotted them, he ran over, so had the others.

Natalia ran past him, towards Michonne, who was coming at her.

She tackled the woman to the ground, both falling as they laughed, hugging each other tightly as they rolled on the dirt.

"I missed you." Natalia told her.

"I missed you more."

"Not possible."

"Carl, get in this." Michonne told the boy as they sat up, both gesturing for him to join the hug.

Which he did, getting to his knees and hugging the two women tightly, laughing at their antics.

"Alright, come on, save some love for the rest of us." Tara told her.

She got off her best friends, hugging Tara, tightly, than Rosita.

"What happened?" She asked, looking at the fresh cut that had been stitched up, on the woman's face.

"Took a page out of your book, 'cept, I didn't succeed." She answered.

"Rosita, how I missed you." She hugged her again.

Finally, she pulled away, jumping into the arms of Rick, who hugged her tightly, swaying their bodies, kissing her head.

When he set her down, Daryl stepped toward his best friend again, handing him over the gun, his gun.

He checked the magazine, nodding at him in thanks.

Rick walked towards the house, the rest followed in his step.

They were going to fight, and they were going to win.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #carl grimes #carol peletier #daryl fanfiction #glenn rhee #michonne #rick grimes #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl dixion x reader #twd daryl x y/n #daryldixonalonetwd #darylxnatalia

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