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kepamount · 1 year

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clueless

mason mount x reader one shot - fake dating, smut and fluff

warnings: explicit smut, unprotected sex, virgin reader, first time sex, dom!mason and sub!reader, dirty talk, praise and degradation, body worship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, overstimulation, I think that's it but pls lmk if I missed anything!

word count: 18.1k+ (she's a mammoth, ofc)

a/n: this is unedited and it’s also 2 different wips mashed together so pls forgive any mistakes or inconsistencies, i’ll edit this tomorrow! happy valentine's day! ik i've been very quiet recently but i'm gifting you guys with this to make up for it! the buildup is very long but the smut is hopefully worth it lol, it's very soft by my usual standard but i think you guys will still like it! lmk what you think <3

‘You’re late,’ I say as I open the front door, not bothering to welcome him in before I turn and head back into the kitchen, his amused chuckling making me roll my eyes. I continue with the washing up, hearing him shut the front door and enter the kitchen a few moments later.

��You’re late too. I said to be ready for half past. It’s quarter to and you’re still washing up,’ he points out, helping himself to a cookie from the jar on the counter before sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. ‘I only started washing up because you weren’t here yet. What do you expect me to do? Sit by the door waiting for you?’ I ask without looking at him, washing the dishes with vigour to get my irritation out. ‘Yeah. That’s exactly what I expect,’ he responds, smirk audible in his voice, and I look over my shoulder to shoot him a death stare, looking at him properly for the first time.

Annoyingly, he looks as handsome as he always does, dressed in a pair of baby blue joggers and a white t-shirt with some obscure designer logo on it. His beard is at the perfect length, and so is his hair, fluffy and soft-looking. His skin is just about holding onto its tan from the World Cup and he looks like he’s been spending a lot of time in the gym, clothes tighter around his muscles than they used to be.

‘Can we go? As nice as the view is from here, I don’t want to spend my day off watching you wash up,’ he says impatiently, his demand annoying me so much that I almost don’t notice the comment on my ass. ‘Maybe if you hadn’t been late,’ I say irritably, rinsing off the last dish before washing my hands and drying them, the boy eating another cookie.

‘Stop eating all my cookies,’ I snap, so close to snatching it out of his hand, and he rolls his eyes before finishing it off. ‘I’ll buy you more.’ ‘I made them myself.’ ‘Oh, so that’s why they taste like shit then,’ he grins, and I take a deep breath to compose myself, heading towards the front door before I put his head through my kitchen wall.

I sit down on the bottom step of the staircase to put my boots on, doing up the zip slowly so I don’t catch my socks in it (it’s happened one too many times, and I’m sick of having holey socks). I’m wearing an outfit inspired by Clueless – a white bodycon ribbed dress with a thin pink cardigan over the top of it, and white knee high boots that add a couple extra inches to my height.

I check my reflection in the mirror beside the front door, Mason leaning against the doorframe and inspecting his nails in a way that indicates how bored he is waiting for me, and I make sure my phone, keys, lipgloss and powder are all in my little white Hermes Kelly bag before I turn to face him.

‘Ready?’ Mason asks, not waiting for an answer before he opens the door and walks out. Chivalry is dead. I lock up behind us, the boy already sat in the car by the time I head down the patio steps, and I’m surprised when he at least has the courtesy to push open the passenger side door for me. The kindness of the gesture is lost when the door hits me and nearly knocks me over, Mason laughing uncontrollably as I scowl at him.

I climb into the car, shutting the door behind me before adjusting the seat to my liking. He starts the engine, racing out of my driveway as I connecting my phone with Bluetooth to the car. He doesn’t say anything but his pursed lips say everything for him – he’s always complaining about my passenger-princess tendencies. I shuffle my Summer Walker playlist, Mason groaning when the opening notes of ‘Tonight’ start playing out of the speakers on either side of us. He skips it, but when he realises the next song’s Summer as well, he doesn’t bother trying to turn it off, letting me skip it back to the last song.

‘All you listen to is RnB. Doesn’t it get boring?’ he grumbles as I sing along obnoxiously loud, flexing my vocals by acing Summer’s runs. ‘Better than the music you listen to.’ ‘I listen to music by people that you’re friends with.’ ‘That’s beside the point. They might be my friends but I can acknowledge that their music is not good.’ ‘It’s not a flex to have no taste.’

‘I know you, a footballer, are not trying to tell me, a singer-songwriter, about music taste. I don’t try and tell you about… football stuff,’ I say pointedly, and he shoots me a side-eye. ‘Because you haven’t got a clue about football.’ ‘Neither do you but I don’t say shit,’ I say sweetly, getting a half-hearted dirty look in response.

‘What are we doing today?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘You haven’t planned anything?’ I ask jokingly, and he doesn’t even dignify it with a response, both of us knowing fully well that I always plan our dates. ‘It’s Valentine’s next week. You have to plan that at least,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes at the reminder. ‘Why?’ ‘Because I’m sick of always planning our dates! You’re the boy. You should take responsibility for date planning, not me.’ ‘How feminist of you,’ he says sarcastically, and I scoff. ‘Feminism’s about choice, and I choose to be treated like a princess by my boyfriend.’ ‘Maybe you should find a real boyfriend instead then,’ he says dryly, and I let out an irritated huff.

Mason is my fake boyfriend – our agents work for the same company and thought it would be mutually beneficial for us to be in a PR relationship. For me, they thought dating Chelsea and England’s starboy would only boost me to higher levels of fame and introduce me and my music to an entirely new audience, and they were right – I never thought I’d have Chelsea fans asking me for photos outside Stamford Bridge before matches.

Mason, however, is getting a lot more out of this than I am. In the last year or so, he’s been getting a bit of a negative reputation – being pictured with influencer girlies, hanging with the wrong crowd, getting drunk a bit too often, not to mention the dip in his form on the pitch. His agent decided to find him a good, clean-cut girlfriend who would lead him back onto the straight and narrow, as well as help to change the minds of Chelsea fans who think he’s a lazy waste of space.

My reputation is perfect to improve Mason’s. I’ve never been involved in any kind of controversy and I’m always on my best behaviour when I’m out in public. On top of that, I went on a friend’s podcast about a year ago, and when the conversation turned to NDAs and celebrity flings, I confessed that I’ve never dated and I’m a virgin. All of a sudden, I became the nation’s sweet, pure and innocent sweetheart. I hate to benefit from the patriarchy but my virginal status has made me a supposed ‘good role model’ for the young girls of today, so my fanbase has increased drastically.

‘Maybe I will. Then you can kiss your improved reputation goodbye.’ ‘More than I can do to you. Maybe then I can find a less boring fake girlfriend. Someone who’s actually been touched by a man before,’ he says pointedly, bringing up the contract I made him sign despite his reluctance for the thousandth time.

Mason and I actually knew each other before this whole thing started – we ran in the same social circles, and we always got along relatively well. But, as soon as I laid out the rules about what he could and couldn’t do with me, things quickly went sour in our relationship.

Because the entire world thinks he’s dating me, he’s not allowed to flirt/date/kiss/sleep with any other girls – it would only tarnish his reputation even more if it got out, defeating the point of this relationship. I assume he thought I’d sleep with him (so that he’d still be getting some), so he didn’t take it well at all when I told him I didn’t even want him to kiss me, let alone sleep with me.

He thought I was being unreasonable, and that no one would believe we were together if there wasn’t any PDA, but I thought it was perfectly reasonable that I didn’t want to waste all my firsts on a fake boyfriend– I just about allowed him to hold my hand or put his hand on my lower back (not too low though). As time’s gone on, we’ve been getting along less and bickering more, so now he barely even does those things. It’s like he hates touching me – he practically jumps a mile in the air whenever our arms brush against each other. It doesn’t bother me much though – I’d much rather be touched by a man that actually wants to touch me.

‘You need to tell me what we’re doing so I know which way to go,’ he says, coming to a stop at a junction. ‘The Vault. I need to get my nails done, and do some shopping.’ ‘You’re having a laugh. You basically want me to be your taxi driver and bag-holder today. That’s not a date,’ he says, sounding outraged, and I roll my eyes. ‘We can go for dinner there too. And anyway, celeb couples always go shopping together,’ I say mildly, the boy still shaking his head despite how he takes the turning for the route to The Vault, a designer outlet around five minutes away from my house.

He drives in a stony silence but I don’t let his bad mood dampen my good one, still singing along to Summer Walker and watching the world pass us by out the window. This weather is still freezing at the moment but it’s a beautiful day regardless of the temperature. The sky’s a lovely clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and the sun is beating down brightly.

It’s not long until we arrive at the shopping centre, and Mason pulls up in front of the main entrance, both of us getting out of the car. Mason grabs a matching baby blue hoodie out of the boot before handing the valet the keys while I fix my skirt, making sure I look picture perfect.

He waits for me to join him, offering his hand reluctantly, and I take it, letting him lock his fingers with mine. We walk through the automatic doors into the warmth of The Vault, and I let out a happy sigh. I love this place so much – the fluffy carpets, comfy chaise lounge chairs and crystal chandeliers everywhere scream luxury.

‘Where to first?’ Mason asks, and I point towards the directory stand, the nail shop on the third floor. He leads me to the lift, letting me in first and pressing the buttons so I don’t have to get my hands dirty. He’s lacking in a lot of things, but he’s always a gentleman in public, and I appreciate it even if it is just for the eyes of everyone else.

When we enter the nail shop, whispers run around the room. It tends to be only rich people that shop at The Vault, but it’s not every day that two international stars walk in together. ‘y/n, darling! How are you?’ my nail tech asks, appearing from the back room to come and give me a hug. ‘I’m good, Christie. How are you?’ ‘I’m good, my love. So introduce me then,’ she prompts, not one for subtlety, and I cringe internally as I say, ‘this is my boyfriend, Mason. Mase, this is Christie, my nail tech.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ he says with a brilliant smile, his charming behaviour making me supress an eyeroll. I never get this charming side – he reserves it for everyone else, and I get the annoying dickhead side instead. ‘Such a good-looking boy,’ Christie says to me, and I force out a little laugh, making myself nod in agreement. ‘Not as good-looking as my girlfriend, though,’ he jokes naturally with a little smile at me, affection in his eyes, and I’m taken aback at how good his acting is.

‘Of course, of course. Now, come, let’s get started,’ Christie says, leading us to her table in the corner, everyone’s eyes following us across the room. I take a seat, hanging my bag on the chair, and Mason hovers awkwardly beside me. ‘Sit here, Mase,’ I say, motioning to the seat beside me, but he shakes his head. ‘I’m gonna do some shopping. I’ll be back in a bit,’ he says, and I feel a little bit guilty for dragging him here.

‘You can… go, if you want. I’ll get Isla to pick me up later,’ I say, but he waves it off immediately. ‘Nah, it’s fine, I don’t mind looking around the shops. I’ll be back soon, alright?’ he says, and I nod, mustering up a smile for him as he goes. The other girls in the shop watch him as he walks to the exit, sparking jealousy in me, followed by surprise at myself. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but the thought of these other girls fancying him makes me rage internally.

Christie starts removing my old set, distracting me as she chatters away about the latest drama in her tumultuous life. Last time I saw her, she was dating a Brighton player, but now apparently she’s moved on from him and she’s got a Kpop boy in her DMs. I get my nails done every three weeks, and she has a different love interest every single time.

Mason reappears when Christie’s painting gel polish onto my new set, a smile on his face when I meet his eyes. All the girls are watching him again but his eyes don’t stray from me, satisfaction filling me. Ogle him all you want, ladies, but he’s my fake boyfriend.

He has a Starbucks cup in his hand which he puts down on the table as he sits in the chair beside me. ‘An iced blonde caramel macchiato with soy milk and sugar-free syrup,’ he announces, and I can’t hold back my smile as I look at him in surprise. ‘You remembered my order?’ I ask, and he lets out a laugh. ‘Not off by heart. It’s in my notes app so I don’t have to ask you every time,’ he says, the truth touching me even more. He knew he won’t be able to remember so he made a note of it. It’s sweet.

‘You’re cute, Mount,’ I say affectionately, maybe giving him the first compliment since this relationship began. ‘You’re about to find me even cuter,’ he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bag of gourmet jelly beans that he must have gotten from Selfridges – their confectionary section is massive. ‘Mase,’ I say, dragging the word out in a way that makes him grin.

‘Thought you might want a snack, because you’ve probably only had fruit for breakfast,’ he says, knowing me so well, and I roll my eyes. ‘Yeah, because jelly beans are really gonna make up for a light breakfast.’ ‘Better than nothing.’ ‘I suppose. Thank you,’ I say, leaning towards him and planting a kiss on his cheek, the boy raising an eyebrow when I pull away. I only save cheek kisses for when he’s not being at all irritating, and he knows that. The smirk on his face clearly means he’s satisfied at being in my good books for once.

Christie has one of my hands in the UV nail lamp and the other in her hand, intricately painting on a heart, so I can’t pick up the drink. I lean towards it to try and take a sip but it’s a little too far away, and I don’t want to move too much for fear of getting told off by Christie (the woman doesn’t play). ‘Here,’ Mason says, lifting the cup and holding it to me. I take a long sip through the straw, our eyes locked together, and I feel weirdly shy under his gaze, dropping eye contact after a few moments. He lets out a soft chuckle, amused at my nerves.

Come on, bitch, pull yourself together. Don’t let Mason Mount get you flustered. ‘Want a jelly bean?’ he asks and I nod, Mason opening the packet and getting one out. I stick my tongue out, and he falters for a moment, victory filling me. He puts the jelly bean on my tongue, eyes on mine, and I take the jelly bean into my mouth, chewing it with a small smile, the boy rolling his eyes.

We go on like that while Christie does my nails, Mason feeding me jelly beans (whilst eating more than double the amount I do) and holding up my drink for me to have a sip every couple minutes, his phone in his hand as he scrolls distractedly through tiktok. We start an unspoken game, trying to get each flustered and seeing who can hold eye contact longer. I hate to admit it, but he’s definitely winning, and it really pisses me off.

Yes, I’m a virgin, but I still own and use my sexuality – I might know nothing about the actual act of sex but I know how to make a guy want it. Before I was with Mason, I’d get a kick out of leading on these rich and famous guys only to leave them hanging. Not over a long time, of course. Just for a couple hours at parties or in the club. There’s something so fun about letting a guy think he’s gonna get to take you home but leaving with your girls instead. It’s always the same, with prolonged eye contact, suggestive actions (putting on lipgloss or sipping a drink with puckered lips through a straw), and light physical contact. But Mason’s never fallen prey to any of that – he’s never tried it on with me.

I suppose it’s a good thing, because he’s really fucking annoying and I don’t want to sleep with him. We’re at a mutual agreement that this is nothing more than a fake relationship and all we have to do is tolerate each other, so it’d ruin that if either of us ever tried to make it something more. Not that either of us want to, of course. We literally can’t stand each other.

‘Shall I add his initials?’ Christie asks, breaking me out of my thoughts, and it takes me a moment to register her question. In that moment, Mason answers for me. ‘Yeah, add my initials,’ he grins, and I barely stop myself from shooting him a dirty look. ‘Shall I do it on your ring finger?’ she asks, and I cringe internally. I’m about to get the initials of a guy who doesn’t see me romantically painted on my ring finger nail. The finger I’m supposed to save for an engagement ring.

‘Um… do his initials on the right ring finger, and his number on the left ring finger. 19,’ I say – it doesn’t make much of a difference but it feels better than the other option. The base colour of my nails is nude, and the hearts are white and pink. Christie uses white to paint his number onto the pink heart on my left ring fingernail, and pink to paint his initials onto the white heart on my right ring fingernail. I hate to admit it but it looks really cute, and I get a warm feeling in my chest at having a boys’ initials on my nails, even if they are Mason’s.

‘Kimmy! Come and get some photos of her nails,’ Christie says, the social media girl rushing over with her phone. She has me putting my hands in different positions and angles, finally satisfied after five minutes of pictures and videos. Mason’s waiting for me beside the door with my bag and my drink in his hands, and I rush over, quickly saying goodbye to the other technicians.

‘£120, like usual?’ I ask Christie as I take my drink from Mason, the boy still holding my bag, and Christie shakes her head. ‘Your boyfriend paid already,’ she says before bidding me goodbye and disappearing off into the back. ‘You shouldn’t have p-’ ‘It’s fine. I made you get my initials so it’s only right,’ he says offhandedly, and I raise an eyebrow, a small smile on my lips. ‘It’s okay if you wanted to pay for them. You can just admit it,’ I joke, and he rolls his eyes.

‘It’s your Valentine’s present,’ he says, my jaw dropping. ‘You’d better be joking,’ I say threateningly, a small grin on his face. ‘I’m joking. I’ve already got your gifts, babe,’ he says easily, taking my hand into his, and I hear lots of ‘aww’s from the girls behind me. ‘Good,’ I reply sternly, letting him lead me out into the corridor, walking leisurely past the shops.

‘We actually do need to plan something for Valentine’s though,’ I say quietly once we’re out of earshot of anyone else, and he remains silent. ‘I know you’d rather not spend a random Tuesday night with me but it looks suspicious if we don’t do anything. And if we don’t plan something, our agents will, and their plans are always boring,’ I continue, met with even more silence. ‘Let’s not do the usual dinner and drinks. We could do an activity instead! Bowling is always cute. Or mini golf, even though I’m shit at it. Maybe even-’ ‘y/n,’ Mason cuts me off, hesitating to continue speaking before he sighs.

‘I’ve already planned Valentine’s,’ he admits, and I stare at him blankly for a long few moments. ‘What?’ ‘I’ve made plans for us already,’ he says, and I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ I ask, and he sighs again. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. I heard you talking with Steph about how you’ve never done anything for Valentine’s with a boy, and I know you don’t want to waste all your firsts on a fake boyfriend, but we have to do something on Valentine’s anyway so I thought I’d make it special for you,’ he says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I feel myself melting inside. I think I might even cry.

‘That’s… really nice. Thanks, Mase,’ I say softly, and he just waves off my gratitude, clearly feeling awkward. ‘It’s alright. It was about time I planned a date anyway, so I thought I’d show you how it’s done,’ he jokes, and I shove him lightly, laughing. ‘The dates I plan are always fun!’ ‘Oh, yeah, this date has been really fun,’ he says drily, and I feel a bit sheepish at that. I wanted to piss him off but now I feel guilty.

‘Let’s just go then,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s fine. Do your shopping first.’ ‘It can wait. There’s nothing urgent I need to get,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Where are we gonna go instead?’ he asks, and I think it over for a moment. ‘Back to mine,’ I say, a smirk finding his lips.

‘Say less.’ ‘Don’t get any ideas,’ I warn, the boy chuckling. ‘What are we gonna do at yours then?’ ‘Valentine’s baking!’ I say excitedly, the boy staring at me deadpan. ‘Baking?’ ‘Yes. You’re always eating my baking so now’s your chance to make up for it and do some baking of your own.’ ‘I’m always eating your baking because that’s what you’re supposed to do with it. Not just let it sit in a jar on your counter until it goes off,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes.

‘Okay, fair point. But speaking of baking going off, those cookies are on their way out so they need replacing,’ I smile, and he just grumbles under his breath. ‘Fine, we’ll go back to your house and do baking, but you owe me a homecooked meal afterwards,’ he bargains. ‘Deal. What do you wanna eat?’ ‘You,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. ‘Other than me,’ I say, and he considers it for a second. ‘Tacos.’ ‘So me and tacos for dinner?’ I ask amusedly, and he laughs, pulling me into his arms. ‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Oh, my feet are killing me,’ I sigh as we walk through my front door, Mason letting go of my hand so I can sit on the bottom step of my staircase. ‘Sorry. I should’ve told you to wear more sensible footwear,’ Mason says as he locks the door after himself, and I shake my head. ‘It’s fine. I would’ve worn these anyway. They’re my V-Day boots!’ I say happily, clicking my heels together.

After finding out I had surprise plans for Valentine’s Day, I bought a new pair of boots for the occasion. I already had a pink mini dress in the exact same shade as the hearts on these white boots, and I was sold the second I saw that the heels are heart-shaped. Mason said it was a bit morbid that every step I took was stamping on hearts, but I thought it was cute.

We’ve been bickering and having stupid arguments all day but, overall, I’ve really enjoyed spending Valentine’s Day with him. He’s been irritating as usual, but he’s also been sweet and romantic as well, which was definitely surprising. I didn’t say anything about it though, because we’re in a good patch at the moment and I don’t want to ruin it.

After he paid for my Valentine’s nails the other day, we come back and baked some Valentine’s cupcakes and cookies. We filmed a vlog for my YouTube channel and Tiktok videos for both of our accounts, like we always do when we do stuff like this. The difference this time was the lack of acting – our affection, flirting and joking together was all real. We bickered, like we always do, but it was light-hearted, and he kept resolving it with stuffing chocolate in my mouth or pulling me into warm hugs.

After baking, I cooked chicken tacos and we sat together at the kitchen island to eat. We chatted idly as we ate, and he actually complimented my cooking. When he got a call from his parents saying they were on their way to his house, the night ended abruptly and, despite my disappointment, I was relieved. I’d felt myself starting to look at him differently and that scared the shit out of me, so I was happy to send him on his way with a box of cupcakes and cookies for his family.

We didn’t speak again after then until last night, when he messaged telling me to be ready for 10am. He showed up on time, with gifts too! I proudly put the bouquet of red and white roses into a vase as he watched with a satisfied grin, making sure to put the single pink rose in the middle. He also insisted on me opening the box of chocolates so I could try one, and it was the best chocolate I’ve ever had. I googled the brand, To-ak, and I couldn’t believe my eyes at the price. He spent £300 on a box of chocolates for me.

We started the day with breakfast at my favourite brunch spot in The Vault. We got one avo-and-egg on toast and one plate of berry pancakes, sharing both dishes like a real couple. Then he drove us into the city for bowling and mini golf – he said he wanted to burst out laughing when I mentioned both of those things at The Vault last week. He tried his best to coach me at both activities (and I had no complaints at his body pressed up behind mine as he guided my movements and held my hands) but he still managed to beat me at both. I didn’t mind though – I would’ve gotten the ick if my athletic fake boyfriend lost to me at bowling and mini golf.

Then we went for Afternoon Tea on Park Lane followed by watching A Midsummer Night’s Dream on the West End. Mason has no interest in theatre but he knows I love it so he sucked it up, and even bought us box tickets so we had a perfect view of the stage. I didn’t even realise I was starting to get cold until I’d shivered, and Mason took his jacket off to lay it across my lap before moving closer to me, wrapping an arm around me to keep me warm.

After the theatre, he took me to dinner at Le Gavroche, an expensive French restaurant. I was too fussy to eat most of the food but I was still more than happy to be there, sitting opposite a pretty boy in a fancy restaurant, flirting over champagne and French cheese. And he got me McDonald’s nuggets on the way home so I wouldn’t complain about being hungry.

Now we’re back at mine. I invited him in, without any reason as to why, but he accepted. We’ve both been so… lovey-dovey and cute today. It’s so weird actually getting along with him but it feels right at the same time, which is scary. Multiple times today, I’ve had to remind myself that our relationship is fake, feeling a jolt at the thought.

‘Who buys new shoes for Valentine’s Day?’ he asks amusedly. ‘Bad bitches,’ I say proudly before trying to take them off. With them being brand new, the zips are very stiff, and I’m holding them at a stupid angle because of my long nails. ‘Let me help,’ Mason laughs after a few seconds of watching me struggle, dropping to one knee and lifting his hands to the top of my left zip. His skin brushes against mine, the contact at my inner thigh making me shiver, and his eyes remain locked with mine as he undoes the zip, carefully pulling the boot off my foot and leaving me in my thigh high socks. He does the same with the other, the completely innocent act making my stomach clench.

He stands up, holding out a hand to help me up, and he keeps my hand in his as he leads me to the kitchen. ‘Don’t tell me you’re hungry,’ I tease, getting a look of feigned offence in response. He ate every last crumb on both of our plates and shared my nuggets with me in the car – the boy can eat but I’ll be shocked if he has any more room.

‘I’m thirsty,’ he says, letting go of my hand to get a glass out of the cupboard, about to pour himself some water. ‘Let’s have some wine,’ I say suddenly, Mason raising an amused eyebrow at me. ‘I have to drive home, and I’ve already at the limit with that champagne,’ he reminds me. ‘You can stay the night. I have a couple guest bedrooms you can choose from,’ I say quietly, his gaze warm on my skin as his grin grows.

‘Yeah?’ he asks, and I nod, struggling to keep eye contact with him, the butterflies in my stomach going wild. I wasn’t even propositioning him – I just thought it’d be nice to finish the day with late night chats over a glass of wine, not a quiet and empty house. ‘Okay, I’ll have some wine.’ ‘Which one do you want?’ I ask, opening my wine cupboard and moving aside to show him. ‘I want the one in the living room,’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Living room?’ ‘Yeah. There’s a bottle of wine in your living room,’ he repeats, and I frown. ‘What? Where?’ I ask, heading towards the living room.

I gasp when I spot the presents on the coffee table, looking back at Mason who grins at me. ‘You didn’t think I just got you flowers and chocolate, did you?’ he asks, looking very proud of himself, and I rush into the living room excitedly, wanting to see my gifts. I take a couple photos first, knowing I’ll want to remember this moment, and he just watches on with a self-satisfied grin. ‘Which one shall I open first?’ I ask, and he points to the bottle bag amusedly, both of us already knowing what it is after what he said.

I get through the gifts pretty quickly in my excitement, tearing the co-ordinated pink wrapping paper and being careful not to drop the confetti and the glitter in each gift bag on the floor. Every single gift is so me; the rosé wine, the pink crystal butterfly hairclips, the signed Summer Walker vinyls, the Huda Beauty pink eyeshadow palette, the pink lego flowers set and the dusty pink knee-high boots with my name printed on the soles. I never realised he knew me so well, but every single gift is perfect. The boots are even my size!

‘One left,’ he says, handing me a pink velvet jewellery box, and my eyes fill with tears before I even open it. ‘y/n, don’t cry!’ he exclaims, alarmed, and I blink back the tears quickly, opening the box with shaking hands. I gasp at the set inside, a hand over my mouth and my eyes wide. ‘It’s called pink sapphire, which I didn’t even know was a thing but, apparently, it is. It’s also custom so I can’t really return it, but I’ll just, like, give it to a charity auction or something if you don’t like it,’ he says, obviously nervous, and I shake my head.

‘I love it, Mason. It’s so beautiful,’ I whisper, already enamoured with the pink sapphire stones set into the pendant on the silver necklace, the silver tennis bracelet and the silver hoops. ‘That’s good then,’ he says, actually letting out a sigh of relief before he helps me put it all on, watching with an affectionate smile as I admire myself in my front camera.

‘This is all too much, Mason. It must have cost you a bomb,’ I say, and he waves off my concerns. ‘It’s fine. I fucked up your birthday so this is the least I could do,’ he says lightly, trying to sound casual, and I try not to laugh at the reminder of the half-dead bouquet of flowers and box of Thorntons chocolates he got for my birthday (I’m not one to sneer at Thorntons – chocolate is chocolate – but it was a Christmas box that was out of date by three years).

‘Well, I got you something too, but don’t get your hopes up too much. They’re not as good as what you’ve got me,’ I warn him, getting up and getting the gift box I hid in the corner of the room, a big grin on his face. Despite my warning, I already know he’s gonna love everything I’ve got him – I’m a very good gift buyer and I’ve been planning this for a while. I may or may not have also put in minimal effort for his birthday and felt bad about it, so I’m trying to make up for it with this.

He looks very happy with the black tracksuit I got from some streetwear brand that him and his friends are all obsessed with, and he’s even happier with the custom silver chain I got from one of my jeweller friends. But his favourite is the blue Van Cleef bracelet, even before he spots the letters of his name engraved on the inside of each clover.

‘You’re sweet,’ he grins, pulling me into his arms and kissing the top of my head, a warm feeling flooding through my body, my heart singing. ‘I’ll get some glasses for the wine,’ I say, rushing back into the kitchen and taking a few seconds to compose myself, staring at my reflection in the fridge.

I’m supposed to hate Mason, or strongly dislike him anyway. But we’ve been getting along, and maybe I don’t dislike him after having such a romantic day with him. Maybe I actually like him a little bit, even more after getting all those thoughtful gifts from him. And maybe he likes me as well. He knows me well, at least, and cared enough to plan a day he knew I’d love and buy me perfect gifts. And now we’re about to sit alone in my living room, drinking rosé wine late at night. This probably isn’t a good idea, but the desire pulsing through my body pushes the hesitation out of my mind.

I bring two wine glasses back into the living room, Mason popping the bottle open and pouring us two half glasses. We clink our glasses together and both take a sip before Mason lifts my legs across his lap, both of us comfortable on the sofa. I sip on my wine as Mason scrolls through Netflix to find something for us to watch, not able to settle on anything. I’m not at all helpful either – I’d much rather sit here and talk to him so I just keep making noncommittal noises when he asks what I want to watch.

‘I’ll put music on instead,’ he says, opening Spotify and clicking on My Mix, the playlist starting with Summer Walker. ‘Why am I not surprised?’ he chuckles, putting down the remote and finishing off his wine. ‘Aren’t you gonna complain and try to turn it off like usual?’ I ask, and he shrugs with a rueful smile. ‘Maybe her music’s growing on me,’ he admits, and I gasp excitedly. ‘Good! I’ll send you recommendations, and then you can start listening to SZA and Jhene after,’ I say, knowing it’ll annoy him if I make a big deal out of this, and he groans with a roll of his eyes, making me laugh.

‘I’m joking.’ ‘I know, but it’s even more annoying because I’ve already got SZA and Jhene on my Spotify because of you. All of your stuff is growing on me. RnB, The Vault, 90s romcoms, wine and champagne. I even like the colour pink now,’ he says lightly, one finger gently running across the thin strap of my dress, my shoulder tingling in the wake of his touch.

‘I’ve started liking your stuff too. I go to your football matches, and I actually enjoy watching them. I’ve started going to the weird bars you like, full of white people who think they’re cool. I listen to your favourite American rappers. And maybe the colour blue isn’t so bad,’ I say quietly, a little grin on his face.

‘It’s not a surprise, though. We’ve been seeing each other at least once a week since this relationship started nearly 11 months ago. That’s a lot of time to spend with someone. We were bound to rub off on each other,’ he says, and I nod in agreement. As much as we argue and haven’t been getting along for the majority of this relationship, our lives are so intertwined now. It feels wrong to say our relationship’s fake because we behave exactly like a couple. It’s more accurate to say it was a relationship without the feelings, but maybe that’s not even true anymore.

‘I never would’ve guessed you’d like romcoms though. Which ones are your favourites?’ I ask, and he thinks for a moment. ‘I like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.’ ‘That’s only because you think Kate Hudson’s fit.’ ‘Says you, Matthew McConaughey’s biggest fan,’ he says pointedly, and I remain silent, knowing he’s right. ‘And I like 10 Things I Hate About You as well. But I think Clueless is my favourite,’ he grins, my heart melting. I’m the personification of the film Clueless, and we both know it.

‘Clueless, really? What do you like about Clueless?’ ‘I like Cher. She’s cute, stylish, funny, pretty, kind-hearted, and completely oblivious,’ he lists off, brushing my hair back with his hand, my heart fluttering. ‘Oblivious?’ ‘Well, maybe clueless is a better word,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes at the bad joke.

‘How is she clueless?’ ‘She’s so wrapped up in her own little world that those pretty brown eyes of hers can’t see how people feel about her,’ he says softly, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. ‘Cher’s eyes aren’t brown.’ ‘I’m not talking about Cher anymore, babe,’ he murmurs, our eyes locked together, my entire body alight with nerves. ‘What am I not seeing?’ I ask, his lips quirking up at the question. ‘You really can’t see how I feel about you?’ he asks, and I shake my head, heart hammering in my chest.

‘I tried my best not to feel any way about you, because I know you want a big romantic love-at-first-sight relationship and I didn’t wanna try and steal that away from you, but I can’t pretend anymore. Not after the nail shop last week. Sitting with a girl while she’s getting her nails done should be the most boring thing in the world, but I’d spend every day of my life feeding you jelly beans and macchiatos, and watching you smile at pink hearts on your nails. And I can’t even describe the feeling of seeing my initials and my number on your nails, your ring fingers. All I could think was that I want to put more than my number on this finger,’ he admits in a low voice, lifting my hand and touching my finger where I’d wear an engagement or wedding ring.

‘But I thought you hated me,’ I whisper, so overwhelmed by a trillion different emotions, and he lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at my hand in his. ‘I’ve never hated you, y/n. It was childish of me, I know, but we fell out at the start because you told me I couldn’t kiss you or touch you. If I hated you, why would I have a problem with that?’ he asks, and I could slap myself for not even thinking about that.

‘I thought you were just annoyed that you wouldn’t be able to kiss or touch anyone the whole time we’re together.’ ‘y/n, I’m not a sex addict or something. I can go without physical contact. It’s been difficult being around you so much and not being able to release my frustrations properly, but still,’ he says amusedly, and I feel my body warm up. With the combination of the wine and what he’s saying, I’ll end up letting him have his way with me tonight.

‘So you like me?’ I ask, and he laughs again. ‘That’s putting it a bit simply but, yeah. I do. I think you’re the most amazing girl in the world,’ he says simply, complete honesty in his eyes, and I’m silent for a long few moments, mind working at a million miles an hour. ‘If you like me back, this would be a really good time to say that,’ he says amusedly, and I let out a little laugh.

‘I think I like you too.’ ‘You think?’ ‘I don’t… these feelings are really unfamiliar to me. I’ve only ever had schoolgirl crushes on guys. I’ve never felt this way before. I get this tight feeling in my chest when I look at you. I like being around you, even when we’re arguing. I love that people know me as your girlfriend, and I love that girls can look at you but they know they can’t have you because you’re my boyfriend. I think you’re annoying and cocky but I like that you’re annoying and cocky,’ I say, my admission making him laugh.

‘That probably means you like me.’ ‘Yeah, but then… I like wearing your hoodies and jackets because they smell like you, and I get this funny feeling in my stomach at your scent. I pretend to get annoyed at your dirty jokes but I get butterflies whenever you say them. I always wear tight and tiny outfits around you, even when it’s freezing, because I want you to want me. And I can’t think straight when I watch you play football and you’re all angry and sweaty. So I don’t think saying that I like you really covers how I feel,’ I breathe out, his eyes darkening, lips parted in surprise.

‘That’s… fuck. How can you be hot and cute at the same time?’ he asks faintly, and he moves the hand that isn’t holding mine to rest on my bare thigh, between the top of my sock and the bottom of my mini dress. ‘Hot and cute?’ ‘Babe, you just admitted you’re sexually attracted to me in the most innocent way possible,’ he chuckles, fingers tracing patterns across my skin, the area between my legs throbbing with need.

‘Because I don’t… I’ve obviously been attracted to people before but never like this. Never enough to want to act on it,’ I say, the realisation dawning on us both a moment later. ‘You wanna act on it?’ he asks with a little grin, tips of his fingers toying with the hem of my dress. ‘Yeah, I guess. It’s just scary,’ I whisper, and he laughs softly.

‘You don’t have to be scared. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do or don’t feel comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything at all. I don’t expect us to go upstairs to your room now that we’ve had this conversation. It’s a big step,’ he says gently, making me want him even more.

‘What if I did want to go upstairs to my room though?’ I ask, biting down on one of my nails nervously, his eyes zoning in on my lips. ‘You know I wouldn’t say no.’ ‘Yeah, but, like… tell me what you’d do,’ I prompt, a smile playing at his lips.

‘I’d take it slow. I’d kiss you first, for as long as possible because I’ve waited for what feels like a lifetime. Then I’d undress you and kiss all over this perfect body. And then I’d put my fingers in you, nice and gentle so it doesn’t hurt, and I’d make it feel so good for you, babe. I’d stretch you out slow so I can hear all your pretty noises, and then I’d eat you out until you cum on my tongue. And then I’d fill you up with my cock bit by bit and I’d fuck you slow, babe. Have you moaning my name in my ear when you cum around me.’

By the end of his perfectly-woven story, my mind is completely blank and my underwear is soaked. It’s pretty much exactly what I’ve always wanted my first time to be like – the only thing missing from my fantasy is a view from the most expensive room at The Shard after a romantic dinner, but I wouldn’t trade my evening with Mason for that.

‘Okay,’ I whisper, Mason chuckling softly. ‘Yeah? Are you sure?’ he asks, and I nod nervously, my stomach doing flips. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ he says, hand rubbing my leg soothingly, and I nod, trying to calm myself down. ‘Let me kiss you first,’ he murmurs, my heart skipping a beat. What if I’m a horrendous kisser and he gets the ick? Or what if I accidently bite him? Does my breath smell?

‘y/n, relax. It’s just a kiss, babe. You have kissed someone before, haven’t you?’ he asks, and I shake my head, his eyes widening in shock. ‘So I’m about to be your first kiss as well?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘That’s a lot of pressure, you know,’ he says with a small smile, lifting a hand to a lock of my hair, twirling it around his fingers. ‘It’s not. You could be a terrible kisser and I wouldn’t even know,’ I say, the boy laughing gently.

��You’d be able to tell. Bad kissers are obvious.’ ‘And you’ve had your fair share of those?’ I ask, his gaze softening at the mild jealousy in my tone. The situation is obvious to both of us – he’s about to be my first everything, and I’m about to be just another in a long list for him. ‘I wouldn’t say fair share. A couple. But don’t think about them. I’m not thinking about them. I’m thinking about you only, babe,’ he whispers, our eyes locked together, and that’s all the reassurance I need.

‘Can I kiss you, y/n?’ he asks softly, and I nod, a small smile on his face. He begins to lean in, and my eyes flutter shut, my heart hammering in my chest as his lips gently brush against mine. He pulls back momentarily, as though he’s waiting to see if I’m still okay with it, and I feel myself leaning towards him, Mason letting out a chuckle as our lips meet again.

He slides his arms around me, lifting me up into his lap so he can pull me closer, his mouth pressing harder on mine, and I soften against him when he parts my lips with his.

It’s a tame and sweet kiss, one that makes the butterflies in my stomach melt into a puddle of want. His hands stay on my back, his lips gentle against mine, but I want more, need more from him. I adjust myself slightly on his lap, the movement making his breath catch in his throat, and the realisation that he’s getting hard beneath me only makes me even more desperate.

We break apart after a few moments, none of the panting and dark eyes I’d expect after a kiss, and I’m almost disappointed. I know he’s trying to be gentlemanly for my first time, but I don’t want him to be a gentleman now. I want him to do whatever he wants to me. I want him to enjoy this too.

‘Was that okay?’ he asks, and I nod after a split second of hesitation. He notices it, eyebrows furrowing in concern. ‘No, it wasn’t. Are you okay? Do you want to stop?’ he asks, and I shake my head, feeling embarrassed about being so desperate for him. ‘The last thing I want you to do is stop,’ I say quietly, the realisation on his face quickly followed by dark amusement.

‘What do you want me to do then, y/n?’ he grins, and I pout at him, hitting his chest lightly. ‘Don’t make me say it,’ I complain, the boy laughing. ‘How will I know if you don’t say it?’ ‘Mason.’ ‘y/n. You have to communicate with me, baby,’ he murmurs, eyes dark and big as he looks at me, and I let out a little sigh.

‘I want more. I don’t want you to hold back,’ I admit, and he shakes his head amusedly. ‘It’s your first time.’ ‘I know, but I want you to enjoy this as well.’ ‘I enjoy anything with you, babe,’ he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Don’t lie. That kiss was cute for a first kiss, but it must have been boring for you. I don’t want to bore you, Mase.’ ‘You don’t bore me. Babe, we’ve got all night for not-boring kisses. I just wanted your first one to be the perfect kiss that you probably always dreamed about,’ he says, a smile finding my face at that. He’s cute.

‘I don’t… how do I say this?’ I mutter, so embarrassed at the thought of what I’m about to admit, and he just waits patiently for me to speak. ‘I always dreamed of romance, yes. But I dreamed of it for dates and my wedding and holidays with my boyfriend. It was never something I dreamed about in the bedroom,’ I say quietly, and he tilts his head questioningly. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘The thought of romantic sex doesn’t…’ I trail off, the look in his eyes like he’s just stumbled across gold.

‘y/n, that’s… are you saying you’re into other things?’ he asks quietly, in complete shock, and I nod, feeling mortified at this conversation. ‘Like what?’ ‘Don’t make me say it, Mase,’ I whine, the boy laughing. ‘No, this is not what I expected from you at all. You have to say it otherwise I won’t believe it.’ ‘No, Mason. I can’t say it,’ I say firmly, knowing I’ll die of humiliation if he makes me say this out loud.

‘Fine, okay. I’ll ask then. Do you want it rough, y/n? Want me to use you to make myself feel good? Want me to kiss you and touch you and fuck you like a slut?’ he asks with a dark grin, my mind entering overdrive, my lack of response giving him the answer he was expecting. ‘My baby’s not so innocent after all then, is she?’ he asks lowly, hands tightening on my waist, pressing me down onto his lap. The friction makes me let out a soft sigh, his eyes darkening at the sound.

‘Fuck. This is… probably not a good idea. I can’t be rough with you for your first time. I don’t wanna hurt you.’ ‘You won’t. You’ll know better than I will what I can and can’t handle,’ I say quietly, and his lips quirk up amusedly. ‘You’ll be able to handle anything I give you, won’t you, baby?’ he murmurs, looking satisfied at the way I take a deep breath to pull myself together, my nod making him grin wider.

‘Gonna be a good girl for me?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Good. Don’t want to have to punish you, do we, babe?’ he asks, and I feel my heartrate speed up at the mention of punishment. ‘You want to be punished? Such a dirty girl, y/n. Want me to spread you over my lap and slap your perfect ass until you’re crying?’ he asks lowly, and I struggle to hold his gaze, the thought of it making my core ache.

‘Mase, please.’ ‘Please what, babe?’ he asks, and I don’t even really know what I’m asking for. ‘Kiss me again,’ I ask, one of his hands snaking up to the back of my neck, pulling my head closer to him so our lips can meet again.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, the kiss making my mind focus on nothing but him. I never could’ve dreamed that kissing would feel this good, his lips enveloping my mouth, his tongue sliding over mine. It’s passionate and deep and messy, and all I can’t think straight with his scent filling my senses, his soft hair between my fingers, and his hands sliding up and down my back.

His hands tighten at my waist again, guiding me to move forward on his lap, the movement making me let out a whimper against his lips. That must be his final straw because he breaks apart, both of us out of breath this time.

‘Am I a bad kisser?’ I ask, the boy laughing. ‘No, y/n. You’re perfect,’ he smiles, my heart fluttering. ‘Go upstairs for me, babe. I just need to grab something from my car,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow.

‘You’re not running away, are you?’ I ask suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘I’d have to either be gay or stupid if I decided to leave now,’ he says lightly, making me giggle. ‘I have condoms in my car. Unless you’ve got some?’ he asks, the situation suddenly feeling very real, my body humming with arousal.

‘I don’t. Do we need them though? I’m on birth control,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s not worth the risk. You’d probably be put off for life if you get pregnant from your first time,’ he says drily, making me laugh. ‘It’ll be fine.’ ‘Don’t tempt me, y/n. Seriously,’ he says warningly, and I gaze at him with big innocent eyes. ‘I wanna feel you though.’ ‘You will feel me, babe. You can’t even notice the condom,’ he says, trying to sound firm but I can tell he’s being swayed.

‘Fine, okay,’ I give in, the boy breathing a sigh of relief at me not trying to persuade him anymore. ‘Go upstairs for me, babe. I’ll be up in a minute,’ he says as I get off him, the boy following me out of the room. He slaps my ass lightly as I take the first step, and I can’t help but giggle to myself as I head upstairs.

I enter my bedroom, putting on some music through my speaker before tidying away all the stuff I left out while I was getting ready earlier. I can hear his footsteps on the stairs as I’m putting my straighteners away in my bathroom drawer, my stomach churning with nerves and excitement, the latter just about outweighing the former.

I step back into the bedroom to see him entering the room too, a smile on his face when he meets my eyes. ‘Are you still sure you wanna do this?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. Yes, this is scary, but I’m ready. I don’t want my first time to be with anyone but him. ‘Come here then,’ he grins, holding out a hand to me, and I cross the room to take it, letting him pull me against him.

Our lips meet in another pulse-racing kiss, his hands trailing all over my body as I grip onto his strong shoulders before snaking my hands up to tangle my fingers into his hair. My skin tingles in the wake of his touch, his needy hands squeezing my ass, pressing into my waist, sliding across my back, running through my hair.

His tongue slides across mine as he slips his fingers beneath the hem of my dress, slow on their journey up my legs, bringing my dress up with them. ‘Can I take this off you?’ he asks against my lips, and I hum out my permission. He doesn’t waste any more time, his fingers slipping the straps off my shoulders and pushing the material down my body, the dress landing in a pool at my feet.

He wraps his arms around me, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us towards the bed, putting me down gently. He looks down at me, pupils impossibly wide and dark as they trawl over my body, clad in just a lacy pink bra, matching pants and my thigh high white socks with little pink bows on them. I take the opportunity to admire him too. He’s in a pair of loose jeans and a soft blue jumper, a silver chain tucked into it. His hair’s all fluffy from me running my hands through it, and he looks more handsome than he’s ever looked in his life.

‘You’re so beautiful, y/n,’ he murmurs, climbing over me and capturing my lips in another kiss. He breaks the kiss quickly though, moving to press kisses along my jaw and down my neck. When he reaches my collarbone, I realise he’s kissing all over my body like he said he was going to. ‘Can I?’ he asks, hands slipping beneath my back, fingers on the clasp on my bra, and I nod. He expertly pops the clasp open, helping pull the straps down my arms.

‘I’ve always loved your boobs,’ he admits, my laugh cut off by a gasp when he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, the other breast in his hand, fingers roughly gripping the flesh. He switches to the other nipple, rolling the first between his fingers so as not to neglect it, and I feel my back arch at the sudden pleasurable shocks.

‘Does that feel good?’ he asks, words muffled by how they’re spoken around my nipple. ‘Mmm, so good,’ I whimper as he gropes and sucks on my boobs like a teen boy. I’d laugh if my mind wasn’t distracted with the intense pleasure.

He continues kissing down my stomach and, to my surprise, he leaves my pants on and skips the area entirely, kissing my thighs until he reaches the tops of my socks. ‘These fucking socks,’ he murmurs, pulling one of them away from my leg before letting go of it, the material slapping back against my skin. ‘You like them?’ ‘I fucking love them, baby. You look like such a cute little slut in them,’ he grins as he pushes my legs apart. I expect his eyes to focus in on my clothed core but he keeps his eyes on mine, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, little tingles running through me at the feeling of his lips somewhere so intimate.

‘Turn over for me, babe,’ he prompts and I do as he says, lying on my stomach. He moves my hair aside to kiss the back of my neck before moving down the line in the middle of my back. His journey to the dip just before my ass is slow, my heart suspended in anticipation. When he reaches my ass, he gently nips at one cheek before pressing soothing kisses in the same place, a blissful sigh escaping my lips.

The sound seems to knock him out a reverie, the boy turning me onto my back and hovering over me to kiss me again. He keeps himself elevated leaning on one forearm, the other hand pressing into the curve of my waist. I let my hands rest on either side of his face, his beard soft against my skin as our lips move in sync, tongues clashing messily. Nothing about this kiss meets the expectations for a first time, but it’s exactly what I want.

He turns us over, my body weight resting on top of his, and his hands instantly slide down to my ass, gripping it tightly before slapping it, the sound loud in the room. I giggle into our kiss, his lips curling up at the sound as he brings his hands up my body, a shiver running through me at the feeling of his fingers gliding across my bare skin.

I break apart from him after a moment, sitting just below his stomach with my legs straddling him. He looks up at me in awe, trying his best not to stare at my bare chest right in front of him. I slip my fingers beneath his jumper, feeling his warm skin, and he sits up so I can take it off him, bringing up the t-shirt underneath with it, leaving his top half bare. I’ve seen him shirtless a couple times but never so close like this, and I let my hands explore his torso, up and down over the contours of his muscles.

‘My girls would kill me if they knew we were doing this,’ I admit distractedly, eyes focused on his abs. ‘Why? Because they hate me?’ he asks, leaning back on his elbows with a cocky grin, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Why do you get such a kick out of the fact my friends hate you?’ ‘Because they’re the closest people to you, and they’re probably always telling you that I’m not shit and you need to get your agent to end the relationship, but look at us,’ he says proudly, and I roll my eyes amusedly.

‘Well, that’s not the only reason they’d kill me.’ ‘Why then?’ ‘They’re always telling me I should sell my virginity,’ I tell him, tracing my nails over the lines of his abs. ‘Sell it? You’re not a prostitute.’ ‘I know, but I could get a good few million for it from some rich middle-aged business man,’ I say, and he just raises an eyebrow.

‘We could make a few million other ways,’ he murmurs, hands resting on my waist. ‘How?’ ‘We could make a porno,’ he grins, my core pulsing at the thought. ‘A porno?’ ‘Yeah. Your pretty face and pretty body and pretty noises in a sextape would make us more than a few millions. And I bet your pretty tits, pretty ass and pretty pussy would make us billions, baby,’ he smirks, pulling me close for another kiss, arousal flooding through my body. He hasn’t even seen me fully naked yet but he’s so firm about the attractiveness of my body – it definitely gives me a confidence boost.

The aching between my legs is too much, and I find myself pressing down onto him to relieve it. He tenses beneath me, clearly just as worked up as me with the way he grips onto my hips, controlling my movements so I’m grinding down onto him, both of us breathless. Gentle waves of pleasure roll through my body, my lips letting out quiet sighs against his mouth.

‘Does that feel good, babe?’ he asks, breaking away from me and kissing along my jaw. I let out an ‘mmm’ sound which he takes as an answer, lips lifting up into a grin against my skin before he nips at it, the pleasurable pain making me whimper. ‘Fuck, you sound so pretty,’ he mumbles into my neck, still rocking my body against his.

‘Can I ask you something? A personal question?’ he asks, and I sit up after a moment, feeling nervous as I nod. ‘What have you actually done? Sexually? Because I know you’re a virgin but I’d assumed that you’d kissed someone before, so maybe my assumptions are all wrong,’ he says, and a small smile finds my lips at the question.

‘I haven’t done anything. You’re the first person to kiss me and touch me and see me like this,’ I say, a tiny smirk on his face. ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘What about what you’ve done? Have you ever touched yourself, babe?’ he asks, and I avoid his gaze, feeling a little bit of embarrassment unfurling in my chest. ‘I tried, once.’ ‘Why only once?’ ‘It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like anything, really. So I just never tried again,’ I admit, the boy grinning.

‘So you’ve never had an orgasm before?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Good. I’ll make your first one amazing, babe, I promise,’ he murmurs, pulling me down for a brief kiss before lifting me off him. He gets up off the bed, about to take his jeans off, but I grab his hands to stop him.

‘Let me,’ I breathe out, kneeling at the edge of the bed and looking up at him as I flick his jeans button open. He watches how I pull the zip down before bunching the material in my hands, slowly pulling it down his legs, leaving him in just his Calvin Kleins, his boner right in front of my face. My curiosity gets the best of me and I palm his cock through his boxers, the groan he lets out making my pants flood.

‘Fuck, baby, don’t. I’m gonna end up cumming in my fucking boxers like I’m the virgin here,’ he warns me, making me laugh. He moves my pillows aside, sitting at the top of the bed with his back against the headboard, and he pats the bed between his legs, motioning for me to sit there. I crawl up the bed, sitting with my back against his front, my body enveloped by his.

I rest my hands on his thighs as he snakes his arms around me, his lips landing on my neck. I tilt my head to allow him better access, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kisses, and his hands slide down my stomach and under my legs. He pulls my legs up to bend at the knees before slipping his hands between my thighs, parting them.

‘Shall we come up with a safe word for you, babe?’ he asks against my skin, and I nod. ‘Think of one,’ he prompts, and I wrack my brains. ‘Clueless?’ I suggest, the boy chuckling, his warm breath fanning across my bare shoulder. ‘So you’ll say ‘clueless’ if you need me to stop, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Good girl,’ he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

‘Make sure you tell me if you want me to stop,’ he reminds me as his hand slips down between my legs, fingertips gliding across my saturated underwear, making me shiver in his arms. ‘Fuck, you’re so wet, babe,’ he whispers, my breaths already becoming shaky with his finger gently running up and down my pants. He doesn’t waste much time before sliding his hand beneath my underwear, ending his teasing quickly which I’m grateful for. His fingers glide lightly across my wet folds and he quickly finds my clit, fingers pressing against the bud. I let out a high-pitched whimper, head falling back against him and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘Does that feel good, baby?’ he asks as he rubs at my clit in slow circles, and I nod, exhilaration filling me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, my body humming with desire and pleasure, soft breaths escaping my lips.

He pulls my pants aside to exposing my glistening core to the cool air of the room, a shudder running through me. ‘Ready?’ he murmurs, and I nod. He slides a finger in slowly, my body reacting to the unfamiliar intrusion by clenching my walls around him, and he doesn’t move at all for a few moments, letting me getting used to the unusual feeling.

‘Does it hurt?’ he asks, pressing soothing kisses to my neck again, and I shake my head. ‘Just feels a bit weird,’ I reply, feeling his laugh against my skin. ‘You’re so tight, baby. Can’t wait to stretch you out, make you feel so good, y/n,’ he whispers, starting to slowly move his finger back and forth.

The feeling soon starts to become pleasurable rather than weird, my walls not clenching as hard around his finger, and he takes advantage of it, sliding in another finger with the first.

‘Mase,’ I whisper softly. ‘Too much?’ he asks, and I give my body a few moments to get used to the feeling before shaking my head. ‘Such a good girl for me, babe,’ he murmurs, slowly thrusting his fingers into me, letting my body get accustomed to the burning stretch. My eyes fall shut, arousal gushing out onto his hand, causing faint wet sounds that make my skin heat up.

‘Feels good?’ ‘So good,’ I whimper softly, nails digging into his strong thighs as he curls his fingers inside me. The intense pleasure makes me clamp my thighs shut around his hand, the boy chuckling softly. ‘You can take it, babe, come on,’ he says soothingly as he pushes my legs apart again, hooking one leg with his own to keep it restrained from meeting the other.

‘You’re so sensitive, baby,’ he says amusedly, curling his fingers again and brushing a spot inside me that makes me whine pathetically. And then he begins to rub his palm against my clit with each movement of his hand, my head falling back onto his shoulder and my back arching, a quiet moan escaping my lips.

My body squirms between his legs, but he holds me firmly in place and keeps my legs apart, fingers continuing to thrust into me at a gradually quickening pace, whine after whimper slipping out from my lips as Mason whispers filth into my ear, making me lose my mind.

‘Look at you, babe. Grinding on my hand. Does it feel good, baby?’ he asks cockily and, sure enough, when I force myself to open my eyes, I see that I’m grinding against his fingers unconsciously, each movement of my hips resulting in his hand brushing my clit and sending a gentle wave of pleasure through me.

‘So good, Mase,’ I moan softly, the boy cursing at the sound, kissing and biting at my neck to leave marks, making my eyes flutter shut once again. ‘You sound so pretty for me, babe. So pretty. Gonna make you feel so good,’ he whispers against my skin, but the words barely register, my focus on the unfamiliar feeling of my stomach tightening.

‘Mase, I think I’m close,’ I say breathlessly, and he lets out a gentle laugh against my neck. ‘I know, babe, I can feel it.’ ‘I didn’t think… girls really cum from their first time,’ I say, words broken up with a moan prompted from his fingers spreading apart to open me up. ‘Girls don’t cum from their first time if the person they’re with is shit as sex. Lucky for you…’ he grins against my skin, thumb pressing onto my clit, and I let out a loud moan, the boy groaning at the noise.

‘Fuck, I need to taste you,’ he says, sliding his fingers out of me and lifting them to his mouth, licking my arousal off his skin. ‘Mmm, you taste so good,’ he says appreciatively, satisfaction filling me. I’m glad to hear my vagina’s to his taste.

‘Lie back for me, babe,’ he says gently as he gets up, moving to lie on his stomach further down the bed. I rest my head on one of the pillows, looking down at him as his hands slide up my legs, fingers hooking around the waistband of my pants. ‘Can I?’ he asks, and I nod, the boy slowly pulling the material down my legs before throwing it over his shoulder.

He pushes my legs apart slowly, revealing my soaking wet core to him, and his lips part in disbelief, eyes darkening as they focus between my legs. ‘Fuck. Such a pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me,’ he murmurs, collecting up my wetness with two fingers, the contact making me clench. He lifts his fingers to my lips this time, and I open my mouth, taking in his fingers and tasting myself on them.

‘Doesn’t your pussy taste so good, babe?’ he grins as I lick his fingers clean of my own arousal, and I nod, feeling even wetter at how dirty he is. ‘Could eat you all night,’ he says, wrapping his arms around my legs to lift them over his shoulders, pulling me close so his face is mere millimetres from my core.

He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he presses his tongue flat against my folds before swiping it upwards, a soft moan escaping my lips. He starts with slow and gentle licks across my folds, the steady stimulation making my brain fuzzy with pleasure, but he can’t keep himself controlled for very long. He pushes his finger into me again, my walls clamping down at the suddenness of it as I gasp, the slight pain soothed by his tongue flicking across my clit.

The sensation is so foreign but so good – he alternates between thrusting a finger into me whilst sucking at my clit, and poking his tongue between my folds whilst drawing slow circles on my clit with his thumb. I grip onto his locks, my high-pitched whimpers becoming more frequent, and I can’t decide whether I want to pull him closer or push him away, not sure whether it’s not enough or too much.

He decides for me, pulling me so close I’m surprised he can breathe. He begins practically making out with my pussy, the loud slurping sounds so obscene and crude that it only makes me wetter, my moans more and more desperate with every movement of his lips. His nose nuzzles against my clit as he eats me out, the irregular waves of pleasure sending my body into overdrive, the knot getting tighter and tighter as I squirm beneath him. He tries to keep me still with one forearm pressed down across my stomach, the other hand squeezing my boob and tugging gently at my nipple.

‘I’m think I’m gonna…’ I breathe out between moans, clenching sporadically as my body twitches, and I can feel him grinning against my folds. He replaces his mouth with two fingers pushing into me, thrusting into me fast and hard.

‘Gonna cum for me, y/n? It’s gonna feel so good, baby, just let go. Cum for me, babe,’ he murmurs softly, voice just about discernible over my loud moaning, and when he flicks his tongue across my clit before sucking it into his mouth as he curls his fingers inside me, I feel the knot in my stomach undo itself.

I cry out his name as my vision blurs, walls clenching around his fingers and holding them in place with an iron-like grip, thighs closing around his head. He works me through my orgasm with sucking gently on my clit, his free hand groping my boob, providing me with a gentle bliss in comparison to the intense pleasure burning low in my stomach.

When I feel myself coming back down from my high, I let out a sigh, body relaxing into the bed, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of me, a shiver racking through me. I just about manage to lift my head to watch as he lifts his hand to his mouth, slipping the fingers covered in my cum between his lips, eyes closing as he lets out an appreciative groan.

‘You did so good for me, babe. Such a good girl, took it so well for me,’ he praises as he moves back up the bed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his body. I feel something very stiff poking into my hip, getting wet again already at how hard he is.

‘How did that feel?’ he asks with his lips pressed against my forehead. ‘Good.’ ‘Just good?’ he chuckles, and I laugh. ‘Yeah. I’d be exaggerating if I said anything else,’ I joke, and he tilts my head up so our eyes meet, his eyebrow raising. ‘Your moaning said otherwise, babe,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. He starts mocking my sounds and I hit him gently, hiding my head in his shoulder out of embarrassment.

‘I’m joking, I’m joking. It was sexy, y/n. Nothing’s ever turned me on more. You can feel the proof of that,’ he says drily, and I laugh softly, looking down at the tent in his Calvins. The thought that I caused that gives me a little thrill. I trace my finger down his v-line slowly, stopping when I reach the waistband of his underwear.

‘Can I?’ I ask, looking up at him, and he nods with a small grin. I slip my hand beneath the waistband, taking his cock into my hand, the thick and heavy weight so unfamiliar to me. I gently tug on it out of curiosity, watching his face for his reaction, and his eyes flutter shut, veins protruding from his neck. I move my hand up to the tip, feeling pre-cum leaking out, and I lift my hand to my mouth to taste it, the boy watching me with dark eyes.

‘Fuck, you’re a dirty little slut, babe,’ he murmurs as the subtly salty taste coats my tongue. ‘Tastes bad, doesn’t it?’ he asks amusedly, and I laugh. ‘Not bad. Just… not good either,’ I admit, the boy chuckling. ‘I’ll start drinking pineapple juice every day, just for you,’ he promises with a grin, and I clutch my heart, pretending I’m honoured.

‘How long’s it been since you last had sex?’ I ask after a few seconds of silence, my fingertips tracing his muscles again. ‘Since before our relationship started. Probably a couple days before we signed the contract. I don’t remember exactly,’ he admits, and I nod, processing the information.

‘So you must be really worked up then,’ I say, looking up at him, and he laughs softly. ‘I’m worked up, but it’s because you’re lying next to me naked and looking at me with your big eyes,’ he says with a small smile. ‘Surely the amount of time has an effect as well?’ ‘Yeah, but it’s not like I’ve… been frustrated for 11 months,’ he says, and I realise belatedly what he means.

‘Oh. You mean you’ve masturbated?’ I ask, the boy laughing, probably at how innocent of a question it was. I should’ve known really – he wouldn’t have gone nearly a year without an orgasm. ‘Yes, babe, I have. Regularly. It’s good for you,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘That’s why you do it?’ ‘Well… no.’ ‘Why then?’ ‘The reason anyone masturbates. To keep myself… satisfied when I’m frustrated but can’t get any,’ he says, and I don’t reply for a few moments.

‘Do you watch porn when you do it?’ I ask out of curiosity, an amused smile on his lips at my innocent questioning. ‘Sometimes.’ ‘Why only sometimes?’ I ask, and he hesitates to speak. ‘My answer might make you uncomfortable.’ ‘It won’t,’ I say firmly, part of me already knowing what he’s going to say, desperate to hear it out loud.

‘The other times, I think of you. I’d go home hard almost every time I saw you, whether it was our good days or our bad days. Making you happy turns me on. Arguing with you turns me on. You smiling at me, rolling your eyes at me, saying my name nicely or not-so-nicely. All of it turns me on. Every single thing about you is so sexy to me, y/n, and just being in your presence makes me want you so much,’ he says quietly, my entire body burning with longing for him, satisfaction settling in my heart at hearing how much he’s attracted to me.

‘If you had to name one thing about me that turns you on the most, what would it be? Just for future reference,’ I say, unable to hold back my smile, and he laughs, the smile on his face so beautiful that my heart aches. ‘I can’t name one thing, babe. It’s everything about you. But… I do love seeing you in a Chelsea shirt with my name on the back,’ he admits, and I wait for him to elaborate.

‘I’m possessive, so I love seeing my name on you and knowing that any guy that looks at you will see it. They can look at how beautiful you are, but they can’t touch because you’re mine,’ he says, my butterflies going wild at hearing him claim me. ‘And I’d think of fucking you from behind while you’re wearing it and seeing my name on your back,’ he adds on shamelessly, my stomach turning with desire. Now that he’s said it, I want him to do just that after his next match.

‘Sorry. That was too much,’ he says, thinking I’m silent because I’m uncomfortable, and I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t. It makes me feel good that you want me,’ I say, a small grin on his lips. ‘Seems like I’m good at making you feel good,’ he smirks, the double entendre not going unnoticed, and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a smile.

‘You’re far too confident for a guy that hasn’t actually fucked me yet,’ I say pointedly, his eyes widening. ‘You really don’t want a gentleman, do you? I was just giving you a chance to recover from your first ever orgasm before I give you another one,’ he mutters amusedly. ‘Wasn’t much to recover from,’ I joke, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Your thighs trying to crush my head said different, babe. So did your pussy trying to break my finger,’ he reminds me, and I fall silent, not able to come up with a retort.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought,’ he chuckles, getting up from the bed and picking up his jeans. I panic for a second, thinking he’s about to go, but he just gets a condom out of the pocket. ‘Are you sure you still want me to fuck you, babe? You can tell me if you’re tired or not ready or you just don’t want to,’ he says softly, and I shake my head. ‘I still want you, Mase,’ I say quietly, crawling to the edge of the bed beside where he stands, taking one of his hands into mine and pulling him close.

‘But I want you raw,’ I whisper, taking the condom out of his hand, and he lets out a little sigh. ‘y/n-’ ‘Please. I want you to cum in me,’ I say softly, looking up at him through my lashes, and he groans. ‘Fuck, y/n, don’t say that.’ ‘It’s true, though. I want it in me, not in a condom.’

‘And what if you get pregnant?’ ‘I won’t, I’m on the pill!’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Is it 100% effective?’ ‘Well… no, but Isla and Steph are both on it and they’ve never gotten pregnant,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘So just because they have sex without condoms, you want to as well?’ ‘No, I want to because I want to feel you, without anything separating us, and I want you to cum inside me,’ I say, and he looks skywards like he needs help from God to have this conversation with me.

‘If you really don’t want to, that’s fine. But-’ ‘No, I want to. I just don’t want to risk anything happening to you,’ he murmurs, lifting a hand to caress my face gently. ‘Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m consistent with the pill, so I won’t get pregnant. And you’re clean, right?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘So it’s gonna be fine then. Please, Masey,’ I say with a pout, and he finally gives in.

‘Okay, fine. If my dirty girl wants it raw, that’s what she’ll get,’ he grins, my core throbbing at the thought of him cumming inside me. ‘Lie back for me,’ he instructs and I do as he says, on full display for him, his eyes trawling over my body appreciatively. ‘You’re so perfect, baby,’ he praises, taking his boxers off, and my heart pounds at the sight of him stood there in all his glory. Flawlessly toned body, dark ink on fair skin, and a cock that makes my pussy wet.

‘That’s… not gonna fit in me,’ I breathe out, the boy laughing as he climbs over me, his lips meeting mine in soft kiss. ‘It will, babe.’ ‘Will it hurt?’ I ask nervously, and he doesn’t answer for a moment. ‘Maybe. But we’ll go slowly, and I’ll stop if you ask me to. Okay?’ he murmurs, and I nod, taking a deep breath to try and calm myself.

He kisses me again, turning us over so my body weight rests entirely on him, his hands trailing up and down my body. We both gradually get more and more worked up, moaning against each other’s mouths, our hands fervent and desperate on each other. My core is impossibly wet, my arousal soaking his skin too, and when he reaches a hand between my legs, slipping his finger between my folds, a pornographic moan escapes my lips, the boy groaning at the noise.

‘You’re definitely wet enough. Are you still sure you want this?’ ‘Yes, Mase, please. Need you to fuck me,’ I murmur against his neck, the boy wasting no time in turning us over, on his knees between my legs. He runs the tip up and down my folds, soaking his cock in my arousal, and my walls clench around nothing, desperate to feel him inside.

‘What’s your safe word?’ he tests me. ‘Clueless.’ ‘Good girl,’ he murmurs, the praise making me smile to myself, and I watch as he pumps his cock a couple times, his eyes fluttering shut at the stimulation. He’s so fucking sexy – just the sight of him like this makes me feel like I could cum.

‘Legs around my waist, babe,’ he says as he moves to hover over me, and I wrap my legs around him, hooking them together at the ankles. ‘Ready?’ he asks, and I nod, heart warm at the gentle kiss he presses to my lips.

I feel the head of his cock running along my folds again before he starts to push inside me. The pain of the stretch catches me off guard – I didn’t expect it to hurt like this – and I gasp, my entire body tensing. ‘Hurts?’ ‘Mmhmm,’ I squeak out, gripping on to his shoulders, and he leans down to press comforting kisses to my jaw. ‘Shall I stop?’ he asks against my skin, and I shake my head. It hurts but I still want him.

‘The tip’s usually the worst bit and that’s nearly in. You’re doing so well,’ he whispers soothingly, pushing further in bit by bit, the pain throbbing between my legs. He keeps whispering praise and encouragement in my ear, telling me I’m taking him so well and I’m being such a good girl for him, and it makes me even wetter, letting him push in all the way with less and less pain.

‘Well done, babe, you did so well,’ he says softly once he’s all the way in, kissing me sweetly as my body tries to get used to the unfamiliar intrusion. Despite my best efforts to keep my body relaxed, my walls keep clenching around him, as though they’re trying to force him out.

‘I know you don’t mean to, but- fuck. Your clenching is not doing me any favours,’ he murmurs with his head buried in my neck, and I try my best to stop, feeling bad for him. He hasn’t had sex for almost a year and now that he’s finally in me, he’s staying still so he can let me adjust. This is probably torture for him.

‘You know you’re the first girl that I’ve not used a condom with?’ he says against my skin, my heart singing at the news that I am one of his firsts after all. ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah. And I hope to God that you decide to keep me around after tonight, because I cannot go back to condoms after being in you raw and you’re the only person I trust to fuck without one,’ he admits, the butterflies going wild again.

‘Of course I’m gonna keep you around. Our contract doesn’t expire for another month yet,’ I joke, the boy laughing against my neck, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘What about after that? Will you sign the renewal?’ ‘Will you?’ I ask, wanting to hear his answer first. ‘I’d rather have a real relationship with you instead,’ he says, a happy sigh escaping my lips, the sound making him laugh.

‘How are you feeling now?’ he asks, and I realise that the conversation distracted me from the uncomfortable feeling from before. Now my body’s already become accustomed to him inside me. It doesn’t hurt anymore – I just feel full.

‘I feel okay. You can move now,’ I say, and he lifts his head up to meet my eyes. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Mmhmm. I’m ready,’ I breathe out, kissing him again. ‘I’m warning you, though, babe. I don’t think I’m gonna last very long.’ ‘That’s okay, Mase.’ ‘No, but seriously. I might cum before you.’ ‘It’s fine, Mason, don’t worry. I’m not gonna get pissed off at you for cumming first,’ I laugh, the boy nodding with a small smile.

He starts moving, slowly pulling partway out before pushing back in gently, both of us sharply intaking breath at the feeling. It’s weird at first, and a little bit painful, but as his pace becomes more steady and his thrusts become more forceful, the pain ebbs away into pleasure.

‘Does it feel good?’ ‘Feels so good, Mase,’ I whimper, his skin so hot against mine, hands pressing into the bed on either side of my head. ‘Fuck, you’re so tight, babe,’ he curses, and it really does feel like he’s just about fitting in me, cock dragging against my walls and sending blissful waves of pleasure through me.

I can feel the way he’s restraining himself from pounding into me the way he must want to, instead rolling his hips against mine in slow and shallow thrusts, body moving against my clit, making me clench around him unintentionally.

‘Babe, you really need to stop clenching before I cum,’ he warns me, and I widen my eyes innocently. ‘I’m not doing it on purpose, Mase. I can’t help it. Just love how you feel inside me,’ I murmur, the boy groaning as his dick twitches.

‘Fuck, I’m so close,’ he murmurs, the whiny tone of his voice making me gush around him, and I decide I need him to cum in me right now. I dig my heels into his back as he thrusts into me, keeping him buried deep inside, and I clench around him, pulling his head down so I can whisper in his ear.

‘Cum for me, Mase. Wanna feel your cum in me,’ I breathe out against his ear, and it pushes him over the edge, the boy letting out a moan into my neck as he hits his high, his cock pulsing in me as he cums, his release deep in me. He lets out heavy breaths and gentle grunts, lifting his head up and pressing a kiss to my lips once he’s done.

‘I’ve never cum that quick in my life.’ ‘Yeah, right. Starting to think you’re a two-pump chump,’ I tease, his mouth dropping open. ‘It’s nearly been a year-’ ‘I know, I’m joking,’ I laugh, kissing him again. We’ve kissed so many times tonight but every single one feels like a first kiss, filling my body with so much happiness.

‘Did I hurt you?’ ‘It hurt a bit at the start but then it felt good,’ I say shyly, Mason grinning. I can feel his cock softening inside me, not stretching me out so much now. ‘If you ever let me fuck you again, I promise I’ll make you cum first,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Well, as it stands, there’s not much making me want to sleep with you again,’ I joke, Mason rolling his eyes.

‘You’re never gonna move on from this, are you?’ ‘Nope. You’ll be hearing about it for the rest of your life.’ ‘Rest of my life? Who says I wanna keep you around that long?’ ‘Things in your life clearly don’t last very long then,’ I fire back, Mason bursting into laughter, prompting me to laugh too. Sex always felt so scary to me, so serious and real, but this has been perfect, with all the laughing and joking and tenderness.

‘You still want me to fuck you?’ ‘Can you?’ ‘Yeah, I’ll get hard again in a couple minutes.’ ‘That quickly?’ I ask in surprise, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m in bed with the sexiest girl on Earth, and she’s naked and has my cock in her. I’m surprised I’m not already hard again,’ he says as though it’s obvious, my heart melting at hearing him compliment me again. I don’t think I’ll ever doubt myself again after this.

‘I do still want you to fuck me. I… don’t want today to be over yet. It’s been perfect,’ I say, the boy smiling softly. ‘I’d make every single day like this for you if you asked for it,’ he says, and even though it’d never be possible, he says it with complete sincerity, as though he really would want to. ‘You don’t have to take me on the best date ever and buy me lavish presents every day. But this part would be nice to do every day,’ I say coyly, Mason laughing gently.

‘Okay, babe. I’ll fuck you every day if that’s what you want,’ he promises me, and I feel myself getting wetter at the thought of him coming home to me waiting for him to fuck me. ‘Is that what my dirty girl wants?’ he asks, hand tightening on my jaw, holding my head in place so he can stare deep into my eyes, and I just about manage to nod in his tight grip. He’s giving me whiplash with the way he’s switching the mood.

‘Want me to come home to you and fuck you after you’ve been waiting all day? Because you know I would, baby. If you’re in the kitchen baking me something sweet, I’ll lie you across the counter and eat something even sweeter. If you’re watching TV in the living room, I’ll slip my fingers into your pants and make you cum all over my hand like a good little slut. If you’re in the dance studio, I’ll bend you over in front of the mirror so you can watch how pretty you look with my cock in you. If you’re recording, I’ll sit you on my cock and record all your pretty moans so you can listen to them when I’m away and remember how good I make you feel. I’ll fuck you after my matches and after your shows when we’re both all worked up and desperate for each other. I’ll fuck you with my fingers in the car after our dates, and then I’ll flip up your skirt as soon as we’re inside and fuck you against the front door. I’m yours now, babe, and you can have me whenever and wherever,’ he says lowly as he kisses along my jaw, his words making me moan softly. The thought of having him in all those different ways sends a fresh wave of arousal through me – I want him in every single one of those situations and my life won’t be complete if I don’t get it.

‘Want me to fuck my cum back into you?’ ‘Please fuck me, Mase. I need it,’ I beg pathetically, the boy grinning against my skin. He sits up on his knees again, pulling out of me and focusing his eyes between my legs. I can feel his cum dripping out of me a few moments later, his eyes darkening and smirk growing at the sight. I reach down and scoop some of it up, lifting my hand to my mouth and swiping my tongue across one fingertip, able to taste both of us. He watches me with a heavy focus, so I decide to help him along to getting hard again.

I reach my hand back down, his cum still on my fingers, and I think about pushing it back into me, but my nails are too long for me to put my fingers inside myself, so I rub it across my clit instead. I curse under my breath, keeping my eyes on his face as I smear his release across my folds and my clit, rolling my hips to meet the movements of my hand. He looks desperate for me, eyes so dark they’re almost black and lips parted to let out heavy breaths.

‘You’re so fucking hot, babe, oh, my God,’ he groans, hand fisting his cock, and he’s already hard again, abs clenching at the stimulation he’s giving himself. ‘Mase, fuck me, please,’ I whimper, still rubbing slow circles at my clit, and it’s like my begging knocks him back into action. He moves my hand away, replacing it with his own, and even though he matches my pace, it just feels so much better, my back arching under his touch.

He pulls off my socks, both of us now completely naked, and he lifts one of my legs to rest my ankle on his shoulder. He’s still resting on his knees, and he kisses the inside of my ankle as he buries himself deep inside me with much less resistance this time. I feel so much more exposed without his body covering mine, but the infatuation in his gaze as it travels across my body makes me feel confident rather than uncomfortable.

‘Can I move?’ he asks, and I nod, the boy slipping his hands beneath my back to lift my body up from the bed slightly. ‘Use your safe word if I’m being too rough,’ he says, the only bit of warning before he pulls almost all the way out before slamming all the way back in. There’s slight pain but it only adds to the pleasure, my eyes rolling back as I let out a high-pitched moan.

‘Fuck, baby, your moans are so fucking pretty. My pretty baby sounds so desperate and good for me,’ he murmurs, moving my body back and forth to meet his strong thrusts, his cock so deep it feels like it’s in my stomach. His hands are tight at my waist, holding me in a bruising grip, and his thrusts are just as forceful, but the kisses he presses to my ankles and legs are so soft and tender in comparison, my mind in a mess at the conflicting sensations.

He's much more focused on my pleasure now, watching my face intently to see my reactions as he fucks into me at a steady pace, the sounds of my moaning and skin slapping against skin drowning out the gentle music in the background. My body’s so stunned at the unfamiliar feelings, but the thing that makes me squirm the most is the look on his face as he watches me, a mix of cockiness, affection and intense desire.

‘You’re taking it so fucking well, y/n. My pretty girl loves having my cock, isn’t that right?’ he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of fucking me, and I can’t even respond, just moaning his name desperately. I feel the knot in my stomach starting to tighten as I watch his muscles rippling with every movement, the blood vessels in his body corded tight.

‘Getting close?’ he asks, and I just about manage to nod, the boy adjusting his position so he’s lying over me again, one leg slung around his waist with the other bent up between our bodies. He fucks into me with renewed energy, the new position meaning the head of his cock is brushing against a spot inside me that makes my eyes tear up, and his grunts of effort are directly against my ear, driving me wild.

‘Fuck, Mase, feels so good,’ I moan in a high-pitched tone against his ear, the boy cursing, his pace increasing after hearing the desperation in my voice. He rests his weight on one forearm, his other hand slipping between our bodies to draw harsh circles at my clit. It’s all too much – his cock hitting the soft spot inside me, his fingers rubbing at my clit, his noises in my ear – and I feel myself hurtling towards my high.

‘Is my pretty baby gonna cum on my cock for me? Come on, babe, you’re so close. Cum around me like a good little slut, baby,’ he murmurs against my ear, thrusting particularly hard as he presses down on my clit, and I cry out his name as my orgasm washes over me. My walls clamp down around him, so tight he can’t move, so he gets me through my orgasm by rubbing harshly at my clit, sucking bruises onto my neck as my nails dig into his back, scratching lines across his skin.

My walls loosen around him once I start coming down, and he takes the opportunity to start fucking into me again, chasing his own orgasm. The overstimulation is too much, my body still twitching with aftershocks, body squirming beneath his.

‘Come on, baby, you can take it. Be a good girl for me,’ he breathes out, words broken up with curses and moans, and despite the tears running down my face, I want to do as he says. So I do my best to get him there, engaging what sanity I have left to meet his thrusts, clenching around him, kissing and biting along his jaw.

‘Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna cum, babe,’ he groans, burying himself deep in me as he moans my name, filling me with his release again. He thrusts into me slowly to get himself through his orgasm before pulling out when he’s done, cum dripping out of me.

‘You’re such a good girl for me, baby,’ he murmurs, collecting up the cum that’s trickling across my skin before pushing it back into me with a two fingers, prompting an ‘mmm’ sound from low in my throat, legs closing around his hand.

‘Let me clean you up,’ he says, half to himself, and he gets up off the bed and pulls his boxers back on before heading into the en suite. My body relaxes back into the duvet, skin damp with sweat and chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and I focus on the music so I don’t drift off to sleep, my body exhausted.

I can feel Mason’s hands on me as he cleans me up with a damp towel but I don’t register anything he says and I can’t focus my eyes on him either, lids sliding shut after a few seconds. When they reopen, it’s clearly been a while – Mason’s pulled the covers over my body and put a fresh pair of pants on me. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand and a bottle of water beside him. All the presents he got me are sitting on my vanity table, the bouquet of flowers on my bedside table, and I admire them with a warm feeling in my chest.

‘Mase,’ I say, voice hoarse, and he turns to look at me with a smile. ‘She’s back,’ he grins, lifting one of my hands to press a kiss to the skin, contentment filling me. ‘You okay?’ ‘Mmhmm,’ I hum in response as he hands me a bottle of water, watching as I gulp it down.

‘Why are you sitting there?’ ‘I thought it was a bit… presumptuous to get into bed with you without asking,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You were just inside me.’ ‘Still.’ ‘Mason, I don’t have a problem with my boyfriend getting into bed with me,’ I say with a small smile, and he tilts his head amusedly.

‘I’m not your boyfriend. Well, I’m your fake boyfriend. I haven’t asked if I can be your real boyfriend yet,’ he reminds me, and I roll my eyes. ‘You don’t have to ask.’ ‘No, babe. You told me you dreamed of romance in a relationship, and I want to be the man of your dreams, so I’m gonna ask, with a big gesture and everything,’ he says, and I pout.

‘So I have to wait?’ I ask, and he shakes his head with a grin, reaching over and plucking the single pink rose out of the bouquet, handing it to me. When I hold it, I realise it’s not real, and I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘It’s a forever rose. There was a card that I wrote to go with it but I chickened out and didn’t give it to you,’ he says, picking up his jeans from where they are on the floor, fishing out a note and handing it to me.

Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n. You’ll be in my heart until the last rose dies. Yours forever, Mason x

My eyes fill with tears, the boy laughing as he moves to sit beside me, pulling me into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. ‘You’re so cute, babe,’ he murmurs, and I shake my head. ‘No, you’re so cute! That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,’ I reply tearfully, Mason stroking my hair with a soft hand.

‘Look at the rose again,’ he prompts, and I do as he says, inspecting it. As I move it, I notice the light glinting off something between the petals. I pick it out with my nails, gasping at the sparkling pink sapphire set into a silver ring. ‘It matches the jewellery set. It’s a promise ring,’ he says, taking it from me and slipping it onto my left ring finger.

‘A promise for what?’ ‘A promise that I’ll replace it with an engagement ring and then a wedding ring, if that’s what you want. A promise that I’ll love you forever, y/n,’ he says softly, and I turn to look at him with wide eyes. ‘Love?’ ‘What else, babe? Since the moment I saw you, I knew. You were gonna change my life, and now I can’t imagine it without you and all your pink. I love you, y/n,’ he whispers, and I let out a teary laugh, pulling him in for a kiss.

‘You still haven’t asked me,’ I say suddenly, breaking apart from him, and he laughs. ‘y/n, will you be my girlfriend?’ ‘Yes!’ I exclaim, pulling him back into a kiss. ‘I love you too,’ I whisper into the kiss, feeling his lips curve up into a smile. ‘Are you sure?’ he asks, breaking away from me, and I laugh. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve only just realised it, but I know it now. I love you, Mason Mount,’ I smile, the boy pulling me into his arms with a chuckle. ‘I love you more, my clueless girl.’

#mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #chelsea fc

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multifariousqueer · 10 months

Note

hey ur writing a so good vould you write a smut with miles Morales( not 42) and reader using webs as hand cuffs, thanks <333

Ofc, babes!! IF ANY OF YALL HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THIS, SAY IT WITH ME KNOW. IF IT DON’T APPLY, LET IT FLY. LEAVE ME TF ALONE IF YOU HAVE ISSUES WITH MY SMUT BC I GENUINELY DO NOT GAF

A/N; Hey y’all. Keep requesting as always and if you have an issue with this particular piece of work or any of my other smuts, please feel free to politely fuck off 🥰(I’m sorry I’m so sick of the comments under my post y’all).

Warnings: imma try not to put too many bc Tumblr will shadowban this post and i gotta feed y’all, look at the request, b0nd@ge, fluff, br33ding,d1rty t@lk, nicknames, $mut,lmk if I missed some

As the rain pattered against your dorm window, you sipped from a mug of tea as you had just finished your English essay and designing Miles’ new web shooters. He was currently out using them and trying them out as you took notes on their flaws and how they could be fixed. Miles always told you not too worry about his web shooters and just focus on making his suit more durable and you always told him:

“I can do both, Spider-Man’s girlfriend/engineer always does both"

He would chuckle and laugh and say:

“As long as you’re happy, Mami."

Miles let you have a lot of creative freedom with his design seeing as you were also his “girl in the chair” assisting him on missions sometimes, designing/building him new tech, testing out new fluid combos and overall, keeping him safe. As much as Miles enjoyed you being active in his escapades, he worries that something will happen and you’ll be targeted and used for something horrible. You reassure Miles that this will never happen because there is nothing connecting you to his suit or machinery due to your advanced tracking system being untraceable by outside forces. You installed a firewall so potent, it took you three months of nonstop work to crack it. When you finally did, Miles and you had celebrated for a whole week.

As you enjoyed your unusual alone time, you waited for Miles to tap on your window and enter.

“Hey, Spidey. How’d they work?” you smiled at your tall boyfriend

“They held up, thats for sure. I had to stop a bank robbery and those guys had some pretty jacked up weapons but the shooters did their job. How are you amor?” Miles spoke

“I’m good. I pounded through my English essay and yours.” You said, grabbing his suit to tinker with some of the shooters leaving him bare in your room in only his mask

“What’s the essay on again?” He said, grabbing a shirt as you saw his visible goosebumps on his skin due to the sudden temperature change

“The effects of technology on modern civilization” you smiled at Miles

Miles chuckled at this

“Damn, they called you out, huh?” Miles said, climbing on your ceiling and attempting to web a bottle of water

“looking for something?” you smiled, waving his shooters at him

“yeah actually.” he smirked

“You’ll have them in a sec.” you said screwing something in

“try em now” you said, throwing them to Miles

Miles tried them and they worked perfectly, even better than you had anticipated. Of course, he tested them by webbing you to him.

“Thank you, mami. You always get me right.”

Miles pulled you in for a kiss. The kiss was long and passionate, you could tell he was incredibly grateful for the time and effort you put into him and his alter ego. The kiss could’ve lasted eternity as your mouths moved in perfect motion of each other before you pulled away:

“Should we try out new web formula?” you said barely above a whisper, your eyes fluttering open

Miles chuckled

“Nah, the current one will work fine for this”

Before you could ask what was going on, Miles webbed you to the wall. He turned you around so your stomach was against the wall. He made sure to strategically place the webs so that your hands and ankles were bonded extra tight to the wall.

“I’ve wanted to do this forever” Miles said

Miles webbed your mouth before you could say anything and started rubbing you through your clothes. He fondled your perfect tits and cursed under his breath:

“Shit I’m so lucky"

He sucked on your neck as little moans and whimpers escaped. He moved his hands under your clothes and ripped them in one swift motion:

“I’ll buy you a new top and shorts, mami” Miles said

You moaned out an “awww” but it was quickly interrupted by Miles rubbing your clit while leaving kisses along the back of your neck. You felt a knot in your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to moan out Miles’ name as you approached your orgasm.

You felt yourself twitch as you moaned and whimpered, tears falling from your face as Miles stopped and started palming and smacking your ass:

“You thought it was gonna be that easy, Mami? como si no me conocieras” Miles taunted in your ear

All you could do was just moan and cry as you were completely under his command. He then snaked two fingers inside of you and started prepping you for his dick:

"Es tan apretada, mi princesa” he said, lowly

Miles knew that when he spoke Spanish to you, you get flustered and shut down. You turn into a giggling mess and this situation was no different; It didn’t help because Miles was kissing your sweet spot on your neck causing you to feel overstimulated. Your legs shook and you were practically sobbing as your boyfriend abused your technology and your body:

“Fuckkk you wanna cum, Mami? You want me inside of you, princesa? I wanna fuck your tight little pussy so bad I’m gonna cum in your womb when I’m in there. You gonna let me? You gonna let me make you feel good, hm?” Miles taunted

“Mhmmm” you mumbled. You nodded and turned to face him.

“If you weren’t webbed, I’d make you beg for it; but you’re formula makes it so that you won’t be begging for another three hours” Miles smirked

“mmmmmm” you mumbled

All this time, Miles was taunting your hole with his head, pushing it in and out and watching your hole drip with anticipation. You were sobbing and all you wanted was to feel full and to cum but Miles more interested in watching his powerful, smart girlfriend, fall apart on his cock like putty. The lewd sounds your pussy exuded were driving Miles crazy as he watched you beg for him with your eyes.

Miles pushed himself in and bottomed out. Your soft, plush walls sending his senses into overdrive as he forced himself to move and not just enjoy your pussy squeezing around him. The feeling of being full and the sight of Miles inside of you was enough to make your high return on steroids. Your legs shook as you moaned and whimpered alongside Miles’ own whimpers and groans. As you approached your highs, Miles’ thrusts became sloppier and harder as your body followed the rhythm of his thrusts and began to shake. Before you knew it, your eyes blurred, and you let out a long drawn out moan and a wave of pleasure came crashing down on you; had it not been for the webs, you would’ve fell to your knees.

Not long after, you felt Miles twitch and his movements stilled as he emptied his cum inside of you, his breathing became heavier as yours did too. Miles placed soft kisses along your figure and whispered praises against your body:

“Fuck you’re so beautiful, Mami. I love you so much. You did so well"

You felt yourself get weak in the knees but Miles had been supporting your stomach and your weight. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the man who emptied his cum into your womb but due to the webbing situation, you couldn’t. Miles felt this and he snapped the webs off of your hands and ankles in a flash. As you both were calming down, you saw a geometric blast of light before seeing Gwen’s face:

“WOAH! uh did I catch you guys at a bad time?” She asked awkwardly, covering her eyes.

You and Miles exchanged glances before he smirked and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales headcannons #miles morales #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #across the spiderverse spoilers #miles morales smut #miles morales fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanart #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderverse spoilers #i need him #foryou

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myvampyrez · 29 days

Note

I love your doc reader x Dante drabble! Can I ask for a reader Dante x seamstress? He wants to fix the coat and the bum! accidentally in love ^^

bursting at the seams 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

ughhhgghfh!!! this request was soossosso cuteeehhxjdxidjsj

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

some cuss words, intended lowercase, mentions of blood and dirt but only bc dantes doin his job as a devil hunter lol, lmk if i missed anything!!

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

988 words, 5278 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“shit, dante, what did you do to this thing?”

“yeah, yeah—i know my ass is fat, thank you very much.” he paused as your eyes roamed around the tear, especially with your hand attempting to get a feel of how bad the cut was. how could he focus when your hand was so close to his ass?

“do you think you can fix it?” he finally said, tone a bit quieter than usual.

“‘course i can, who do you take me for?” you say, sauntering back over to your desk to grab some materials, eager for a new job on fixing dante’s coat.

you gripped the tattered leather of his clothing, not even wincing as the grime and blood transferred from his coat to your hands. this was a common occurrence with dante as he often came to you in times where he needed some spare clothes due to the fact that demons kept tearing his up. as you kneeled back down to assess the rips, you couldn’t help but think of how much these demons had it out for dante to be messing with his clothes this bad.

at your quip, dante merely shrugs and waits for you to be done with your work as his eyes trail across your office. it’s filled with posters of your biggest idols and numerous mannequins in the corners of the room. intricate designs scrawled onto pages littered the countertops as he eyed some especially brightly colored spools of thread. he could barely think as he got a whiff of your perfume when you had walked by him, and it definitely didn’t help as you had him take off his coat and start measuring his waist.

“you better be paying me for this, it’s a major rip.” you muttered as you walked away, dante’s eyes tracking you while you placed the coat on your desk and gazed down at it.

“‘course i will, what do ya take me for?” he mocked your earlier words, leaning against the small sink underneath some cabinets, making sure he didn’t prick himself with one of the thin needles scattered near it.

you threw him a playful glare before holding up the measuring tape and walking back up to him. your eyes stayed trained on him as you just said, “hips?”

dante cocked his head before taking a small sigh and stopped leaning on the counter, now standing up straight. he tried to act calm and unbothered, even going so far as to practically check his nails and yawn. in reality, having you at such a close proximity caused him to stiffen, your scent abundant in his nostrils as it made him dizzy while you wrapped the tape around his hips. it fit snuggly around him, the bright color a deep contrast compared to his dark shirt. maybe he really did have a fat ass, you thought.

“so, how’s the weather?” he joked, eager to get his mind off the fact that you were touching him. touching him, your hands wrapped around his waist ensuring that the tape was secure and accurate. your hands, touching him.

but oh, when you giggled at his joke. his stupid joke. it was like butterflies erupted inside of him, a sudden swell of pride rushing in his chest as he let out a small chuckle alongside you too.

your eyes flickered back up at him, soft smile still evident as you scoffed amusedly, “you’re funny, dante.”

and that was the real cherry on top. him? funny? you thought he was funny? dante obviously knew he was funny, but hearing you admit it never failed to redden the tips of his ears. he beamed at you, watching as you spun around and wrote his measurements down.

you tucked your hair behind your ear, eyes finding their way back to dante who stood there with that stupid smirk on his face, as per usual. your soft grin never faltered as you tilted your head at him. “anything else i can do for you?” was all you said, tone honeyed as the words fell from your lips.

“nah, ‘m good but let me know if you need anything, okay?“ he paused, smiling at you once more as he gathered his things and headed for the door. “it’s the least i could do as a thanks for your fine work.”

your attention focused back on the coat in your hands, already beginning your patchwork as your tongue poked out between your lips in concentration. “it’ll take a little while ‘til your coats done, i hope that’s okay.”

“as long as it gets fixed, i’m okay with waiting.” dante’s tone became uncharacteristic, almost holding a sweeter tone rather than his usual cocky demeanor.

“i’ll see you later, dante.” you paused your work, looking back up at the man standing in the doorway as he gave you a two-finger salute and closed the door behind him.

his steps echoed in the hallway, shoes tapping against the tile as he made his way outside into the bright sunlight. as he saw the light shine through the windows, he couldn’t help but think back to you. you were standing right in front of the window, the golden rays shone on you like no other as it illuminated your figure, almost making you out to be a divine figure.

dante subconsciously licked his lips as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to get you out of his head before his hand felt something in his pocket. his eyebrows furrowed as he fished what seemed to be a small piece of paper out, unfolding the crinkled mess. he squinted as his eyes read over a slew of numbers scrawled on the ripped corner, smirk reappearing on his face when he read the tiny, “call me!” underneath the numbers, a small ‘xoxo’ written under it in red pen.

maybe he’d give you a call, he thought, just once more.

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supernaturalistthings · 3 months

Text

Friends pt 5

Female!Reader x Dean Winchester

+18! contains smut

lmk if you guys want a part 6!

Just like our first time together I was laid on the bed looking into the eyes of the man I love except this time he knows it and I know he feels the same. He leans over me to keep tenderly kissing my lips. A kiss that started soft is now hungry and needy, desperate for me to show him just how much I loved him.

“I love you” we’d whisper endlessly against each other's lips, as if it were the lyrics to our new favorite song.

We quickly started stripping for each other, Dean helping me out of my shirt and expertly undoing my bra. I excitedly took his shirt off to reveal his toned chest that I could never get tired of seeing. I mean this man was divinely designed.

Before i could start at the button of his jeans he quickly but gently grabs my hands in his and says

“Not yet sweet heart” with a smirk. I groaned in response, not caring how desperate I seemed to take all of him inside me at this very moment. He immediately starts kissing my neck as a remedy.

Making a trail of wet kisses down to my breasts which he took in his hand and started kissing and licking and squeezing until i was writhing beneath him begging him to where i needed him most.

“God I love your body” he sighs out, I can tell he did. Dean always had a hand on any part of my body he could. He was always already fully hard before I ever took off any clothes, he loved this, he loved me.

He continues to trail kisses all the way down my stomach to the button on my jeans which he starts to teasingly slow undo. He didn't mean to though he was just so mesmerized at how desperately my face said I needed him and how with each breath my bare chest would rise and fall. He pulls the zipper down and takes them off along with my underwear. I'm completely bared to him as he stares in complete love.

He touches me where I need him most rubbing small circles on my clit while he peppers wet kisses on the inside of my thighs. His mouth meets his hands and he starts working what can only be described as literal magic. He's licking and sucking, he's making love with his mouth. My hands are all through his hair making sure that this feeling can't go anywhere, that he can't go anywhere.

I can hardly take it. I can feel my stomach start to twist and I think I'm about to cum when he breathlessly looks up at me, lips glistening, hair disheveled, completely losing himself in what he considers the sexiest thing he's ever seen before him.

“You're so perfect” he says almost in a trance, while still keeping all of the meaning

He crawls back up the length of my body reconnecting our lips, moaning and moving together perfectly. I desperately reached my hands to the waistband of his jeans, feeling how hard he was.

I slowly undo them as he did to me earning several moans from him. Freeing his hard erection of his constraining boxers. I start moving my hands on it, pumping, stroking as he buries his head into my neck. Unable to control himself any longer he takes himself into his hands and starts slowly inserting himself into my wet and needy pussy.

Both of us rest our foreheads onto one another groaning and moaning into eachothers eyes. He starts to slowly move, thrusting as he pleases and it does. He laces his hand into mine which was previously gripping the motel bed sheets for dear life. The room is filled with sweat, moans, and I love you’s.

He picks up his pace. He's feverishly making love to me. Until I can't take it anymore, him following my lead as I can feel him come undone inside me. He rolls from on top, to next to me and brings me into his warm arms. We're both a mess right now, if anyone else saw us they'd probably say we look like the definition of sex. I couldn't think of a more perfect scene.

“I love you” he says, kissing the top of my head

“just in case you couldn't tell by now” he breathily continues.

“I love you too Dean” I replied laughingly, but with all the meaning of my soul.

#dean winchester #dean winchester headcannons #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester moodboard #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural headcanon #supernatural imagine #dean winchester x you #dean #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader

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cheatingexploitation · 6 months

Note

would love to hear abt your made up strident crisis lore! especially anything pertaining to hellbreaker

not the hugest stridenthead any more but i will say what i have because why not.. lets a go

REMEMBER! IF YOU MIDDLE CLICK, YOU CAN SCROLL REALLY FAST!

in other words im not putting a read more thing on this post cz i dont feel like it... however! if theres an issue with this i havent anticipated lmk and ill edit the post. i might be trying to be funny in a slightly obnoxious manner but i do not mean to create a real nuisance...

so while witnessing the mod for. technically the second time but the first time after figuring out what was going on with those daves and bambis i was a bit surprised to see that the mod where the wiki says "it actually has a story" had 0 dialogue or anything so i was like. ok. ill make one up in my head

the gist: classic dave bambi lore Except bambi is not a nice wisdom god he's actually a mean war god. hence why everything surrounding him is much more.. aggressive

when pissed off he doesnt just throw his stupid phone at you. his body contorts and shakes and catches fire like some freak of nature. scary

here i have decided bambi is just a vessel of sorts to contain a dormant god and boyfriend hopping into his farm specifically to piss him off somehow wakes up the god Just a little (probably not entirely though? not enough trolling)

lord bambi being a fucked up tyrant here is also inspired by the title of the song "thearchy", which is a word meaning like. you know a monarchy. imagine that but with a god. rule of god. badass word actually. also i think it's funny to interpret mods where expunged is probably supposed to be a god as them like... not being one (im evil)

i did make some kind of design for him based on that opposition form... never really finalized it (i think it looks Too modern blah blah) but here

anyway expunged is actually not the worst guy ever they're just taking bambis form because (???i forgot) anyway they figure out that Hey actually lord bambi was pretty cringe (horrific and bad and scary) and so phonophobia is them having a Strident Crisis about this ROLL CREDITS THEY SAID THE NAME OF THE MOD

also! heebie. hellbreakie. minesweeper. probably the reason you sent this ask it's ok shes cute and fun i get it. i thought it would be funny if shes madden here so she's madden here. specifically she was an executioner for lord bambi because even though he could do it himself it would be worse if he made someone else do it and for some reason this is his goal i forgot why sorry but this is actually where the name hellbreaker comes from here. that's her title... the hellbreaker. after lord bambi dips no one likes her so for one reason or another (i don't think i decided?) she goes to the void and goes funny 3d mode and Actually i think i made her and expungie friends because that would give expunged a reason to freak out during phonophobia because wow how could i be so mean to this guy i respect. or something. yeah

heres stident maddis Which i have certainly put here before probably but for the big post. yeah

dave also had some part in this whole thing, mainly for the sake of justifying Why the Expunged Is Different, but also i have 0 recollection of what that part Was exactly. i just remember saying something like "wouldnt it be funny if strident crisis dave was emo" (which i said meaning he wears like a darker blue shirt as i think it's very funny when people call any dark clothing emo though sometimes i worry i am only contributing to the watering down of the complexities of alt fashion ? sorry)

anyway i also made designs for strident crisis beef nd geef because i thought it would be cool to base them on the colours they get from hellbreaker's shader. fits the tone better i think !

the plot here would probably be less of a mess if i like, cleaned it up and made something out of it, but also i don't really want to soooo for now all you get is this jumble of words. still think the mod is pretty cool even though i just prefer not to interact with it Too much for Reasons I Forgot but are most likely not important to the general public so don't worry about it

maybe i should do the same thing for spamtrap since i dont plan on finishing it even though spamfriend is one of my favourite children? find out next time on cheat's blog i suppose...

#cheat rambles

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arrowheadedbitch · 2 years

Text

If I rebooted Danny Phantom part 8

(Redesign Edition)

-I would have an plot point that Phantom starts with the litchenburg scars and alive Danny's scars will get bigger the more he transforms until they match Phantom's. I've always liked the idea of Danny and Phantom's differences starting to blur while still staying distinctly different

-Why is this relevant? Well, I'm glad you asked. As I've said before, I'd give Danny a black and white shirt with a NASA symbol, but as the scars grow, so does his outfit to try to hide them.

-As the scars grow onto his neck and arms he starts to wear a white turtleneck under the T-shirt which he hates but he wants to hide the scars so he wears anyway. Then, when it starts to grow onto his face he discovers makeup and trades the turtleneck for a red or black jacket.

-I'd give Sam some sleeves. She can keep the crop top but I want her to have sleeves. Inside if her circle I'd put something like 'Eat The Rich " in cursive, I think it'd be cool if the text changed every episode. Give her more jewelry and the giant eyeliner wings you see in emo girls. I'd also give her a ton of fishnet designs and take away her skirt design so it doesn't clash with the fishnets, sorry.

-Since I took away her plaid skirt, I'll give her neon green laced platform doc martens to keep that Danny symbolism. BUT I've always thought it was weird how they connect her outfit to Danny but not tucker. They really try to only make them friends bc of Danny and I think that's stupid, so one shoe has the green but the other has a yellowy-orange for Tucker bc I feel like that's a nice color for him.

-Tucker is the only one in the friend group who doesn't have that circle on his shirt, so I'll give him a yellowy-orange circle. No turtleneck, but give him long sleeves. Give him cargo shorts, I dunno he seems like the type to wear shorts with long sleeves. Maybe change his hat color to match the circle? Add some symbolism to connect him to Sam and Danny?

-Maybe I should give Danny some purple and yellowy-orange things for symbolism? Idk what do you guys think

I'll probably draw these later so stay tuned ig

I'll also probably redesign some other charecters later

@rana-domine @redfoxtail26

Lmk if you wanna be tagged

#danny phantom #trans danny phantom #trans danny fenton #cryptid danny fenton #danny phantom hc #redesign #sam manson #tucker foley

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hauntedpotat · 2 months

Text

I N T R O P O S T

hi 👋

My name is hauntedpotat, you can call me something related to that or Lyss! I am an AAA battery (aromantic, asexual, agender, for those who dont know), and my pronouns are xe/they/he, but I'm pretty much good with anything except she/her 👍

I am a minor, no creepy or nsfw stuff please

Shitty people FUCK OFF (you know EXACTLY who you are, and no I will not debate with you on if I should exist or not. Leave me alone. Thanks!)

Asks are cool!! Talk to Me (if you want)

I probably have adhd, idk but I'm most likely neurodivergent

I live in the US and like to make art! This blog is mainly OC and story art, art challenges, and general tumblr interactions. I have a fandom sideblog @themostuselesspotato where I post, you guessed it, fandom stuff (not specifying here, there are far to many). Outside of drawing, I also enjoy reading and most crafts.

I am currently in the process of writing/illustrating a webcomic that I plan to start releasing on webtoon this summer! The characters that I draw here will be part of it :)

I also have a pinterest, instagram (which I barely use), youtube, and twitch (I haven't done anything with the last two yet, but I plan to in the future). You can find all of this at gpdsocials.carrd.co if you're interested

Adding a cut here, important stuff is above, spewing about my life is below (lol)

I am currently going to school for graphic design, so I know how to and frequently use Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop, InDesign, and Primere Pro both in and out of school. My current profile picture was made on Illustrator for an ongoing branding unit in one of my classes. I also learned how to design, cut, and press T-shirts.

On the topic of school, I also participate in band! I did summer marching band last year, and hopefully will continue to do so until I graduate. I am a percussionist, and my favorite instruments to play are bass drum, vibraphone, and this one specific marimba we have in class (no seriously, I could rant about how nice it sounds for HOURS). During marching band, I played second bass drum.

I just finished doing the Fishuary art challenge!! I plan to do MerMay and Goretober as well (yall BETTER hold me to that, I still haven't finished last year's Goretober).

Random facts about me! Idk

I can kick someone of adult height in the face if I want to (for some reason I can just kick really high)

When I was in 3rd grade I handwrote a two page informational essay about mosquitoes from memory in an hour

I have a cat! Her name is Stormy, she's 3 years old :) lmk if yall want to see pictures of her, I've got so many pictures

The only video game I've played is minecraft on a kindle fire that I won from selling girl scout cookies at the age of ten. This shitty thing can support like one world at a time and STILL crashes

Once I smashed my knee between a boat and dock at 8am bc I was running off of hot cocoa and 5 hours of sleep and thought my knee was a good cushion for the boat that was coming in at the wrong angle. Don't do that!! Hot cocoa induced decision making is bad! And boats are still very heavy even if they're very slow!!

Idk what else to write here. I'm sure I will continue to update this post, so feel free to ask me questions in my asks or in the replies

Bye! 👋

#intro post #hello everyone!!

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ninjasmudge · 1 year

Note

I have to make a design to print on a shirt and I want the design to be LMK related and I have 0 ideas so I'm just asking around on the internet for ideas.

I'm only sending ask's to a few people I follow and then I'm going to make a post later to see if anyone I don't follow can help.

(Feel free to ignore this if you want to)

mmm. just off the top of my head- peach patterns? tlt silhouettes? the patterns in gold from the staff maybe? monkey kings cloud shape is pretty iconic too. could also be a text based one, one of your favourite quotes from the show or something. if theres one thing this show has, its a great and recognisable art style.

#mk #ask

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nuclevi · 2 years

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May I request some Armin x reader angst based from your old Mafia au post? I just love it sm :D

what we were once. [a. arlert]

sypnosis: a sad look into what has become of the once fearful mafia commander after he allegedly killed his one love.

warnings: fem!reader, severe depression, getting drunk, mentions of killing, graves, cemetry, crying, suicidal thoughts, poison, memories and?? lmk if i missed sth

notes: to the anon who requested this, im so sorry and thank you for waiting so long :( hope you like it bby

w.count: 815

Tick tock, tick tock.

The time goes on as he lays in his bed. His shirt shriveled. Hair out of place. A wine bottle he had emptied out lying at the foot of his bed. If anyone had to see him right now, they would’ve refused to believe this was the same commander who had shot down 13 men in under three minutes with ease.

It's another one of his depressive episodes. And who can blame him?

After all, he had killed the one and only woman he had loved. Or would ever love.

It was just supposed to be an act. A façade, so he could bring your family down. So he could bag another win to give him some short-lived contentment in his corrupt life. Only to lose and never recover from it again.

But you were so pretty. So delicate. Yet so strong. He should’ve known he would never deserve someone like you. You would bring him hand picked berries, straight from your favorite farm.

He would sit in his office chair and eat the berries as you talked about your day with a smile carved straight from the depths of heavens. Now, the feel of that same chair and sight of berries make him want to tear down his skin with his own nails.

He was never good with hand to hand combat. And when you offered to teach him your own moves, he had never been happier to be such a loser in that field. You didn’t hesitate to put such a powerful commander to shame with your fights, and it made him go giddy with emotion.

His head is filled with you, you and you. You are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He just wants this to be over. Maybe he should’ve licked that same poisoned glass you drank from and succumbed to doom along with you. But, it wouldn’t really be his doom. He would gladly follow you to the graves if you asked. His ruination, his doom is only when you’re not with him.

Sometimes he wants to laugh. At what has become of his life, of him after that cursed day. He remembers the look on the perpetrator's face. I had to. I am sorry.

The one who had poisoned your wine glass. He could almost hear her say it, imagine it. Only that it was only in his mind that she ever apologized. Armin hopes the cry that left him that morning when he held remnants of his love in his arms, haunts Mikasa every night. Just as the image of your pale skin and lifeless eyes haunt him.

They never spoke after that day. He wouldn’t ever leave his office except for emergencies and she wouldn’t make any efforts to meet up with her commander either. Any eye contact made in hallways would be disregarded and her mouth would go shut anytime he would appear.

Armin and Mikasa’s friendship now exists only in memories and tell-tales. Just like your and his story.

The only people to attend your funeral along with Armin were Eren and Levi. They hadn't said a word and he doubts they knew what to even say.

Armin blames himself equally in this. He knew what would happen to you. He knew it all and still promised to give you all he could.

He promised you of huge, never ending salvia gardens because you loved salvias. And he has loved salvias too since then. He promised you of an intimate wedding in Italy’s lovely Lake Como and a happier life.

Now, he just laughs thinking back on those times. He had successfully managed to bring you and your family down. And himself too.

Armin blinks up at the Murano chandelier hanging above his bed. You used to love the design of that. He also remembers that his window overlooks your grave in the family cemetery. And he also has your favorite red dress still stored in your closet. And an album of your childhood pictures which he collected after the raid at your family mansion. Oh, and he has the ring he wanted to propose to you with still stored away in his safe. Perhaps, he should consider shifting rooms. He can’t bear this anymore.

All of this makes him cry. A choked sob leaves the man. Then another one. And one more until he is wailing. He buries his face in his shaking arms and cries more. More until his head hurts and his mind shuts down for the night.

Outside his door, a certain black haired woman stands guard and listens. Listens and doesn’t realize her own eyes are wet in mourning. She misses you too. You don’t know and will never know that she loved you too.

That night, all the walls and people of the mansion stay haunted by these cries.

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brainpoo · 1 year

Text

Some things i want to have in my show in the future

Self note lol

-Like toh, gf, su.... , have an interesting design for characters exa: hunter, he has many iconic things and even without some of them he's still very recognizable, if i see some cosplayer with a wig like him, i can get it, if i see the scar and ear, i can get it, thing like that (also luz, if you have the shirt it's easy to understand who and dipper with the hat and jacket). There are shows whose characters only wear regular empty t-shirt and jeans, at LEAST have an interesting, eye catching print on it.

- also like toh, have the animation on regular 12 pfs and when getting into an important scene/fight make it more smooth and emphasize on the animation (like older 2D movies, with the very clear line of action), i LOVE to see smooth awesome animation but if it's done all the time it can take from the story, in rottmnt and lmk the animation is incredible all the time, and to cut enough to stay on budget they can use simple movement for a comical effect, which is fun but it make the world less believable, it make you more aware that you watch a show and not more of a story, it's a great method for certain shows but not really what i want to make one day, i want to make the world the characters are more real then having character teleport smoothly to the other side of the room or ninja-ey become cardboard and move their whole body in the air multiple times and create their own leverage out of nothing, cool and fun to watch, but to distracting and unless the character is specific otherwise to be able to do it (like invincible) unrealistic to the world.

So i think my favourite way of action is to use the budget wisely, having (even if a standard) a cool animation and when needed push for more to really have a cool impact on the audience (and you can use it to prepare them for what about to happen and pre-hype them while watching (like the possessed hunter fight, it became smooth before they started)).

-have in the background somehow just putting Alex Hirsch, Rebecca Sugar and Dana Terrace (can be changed in the future, for now it's the little list i got) in some conversation, like just sitting in a coffee shop or something, it's always fun seeing these little references in shows and in the future someday when i make the show, who knows, maybe some random YouTube video will acknowledge it and make some random watcher to check out the shows i hold so dearly in my heart, which will be beyond cool

-sneak in all sorts of things ppl will learn from, things that aren't necessarily very important but can help or just have this interesting bit of information in ppls head

-if possible, have it with songs, till this day i listen to the su soundtrack and hold back tears in some songs, but even without them i still have flashbacks of lines that changed the way i looked at some things, there are also Tumblr posts that can do it (exa: "everything worth doing is worth doing poorly" ,i saw it while at a random depressing school zoom two years ago and it got me to open my window and get some sunlight at least, after days of not caring enough to open and just use the lights)

If not, then have a musical episode, I don't care what have to happen to get it BUT I WILL- Otherwise the fandom will probably make one lol, but really, every shows i see with good songs always make it more relevant to me later, cus i can listen to it over and over again and it can help me still think about it no matter how long ago it was (@/nickolodean release the rise soundtrack i want it on spotify)

-make sure it's visible to see the affects of actions on the characters, in amphibia after Marcy was stabbed and presumed dead, Ann show almost nothing about it, the only ref to it was when her mom "stabbed" her and then they just laugh it off and kept going, without at least a weird look after or any other acknowledgment in it.

On the other hand not over do it, like in toh when luz found out Belos is Philip and she helped him, good okay, but it was wayyyy over done, a complete collapse?? It totally threw me off and get me out of the episode watching, it was so strange and too much from the character, it wasn't fully earned. (Unlike Hunter's, that made sense and his reactment to it was on point)

-characters in all shapes and colours, cus people are just people (Tumblr post: "it's not forced diversity, people just exist")

- someone that use they/them/other pronounce and is HUMAN, I'm very happy it's possible and is happening that in "kids" cartoons there are presentations of non-binary and other characters, but most of them are non human, almost all the examples i can think of are (Double Trouble, Rain Whispers...), Thought they are in a fantasy world and there are other creatures beside Humans, it's almost only that which still exclude a little in a way

(btw my first experience with a different pronounce was in steven universe future, with Shep, me and my friends after the episode came out asked if anyone understood if they were a boy or a girl, only later i understood what it was, so even if it'll not be possible to have a main character with different pronounce, have a character like that can make kids ask questions and find out more about the other options out there that can maybe suits them better)

- I wish for whatever show I'll make the crow and i will have the time to tell the story we want to, so many good shows got cut off for stupid reasons and that stings my heart, I'm very sceard from that but hope for the best, i really hope my show will find a good home to take flight in and worst case scenario self produce it, helluva boss is a major success and hazbin hotel was picked up after just a hit pilot.

- regardless of the show, I'm very called to be a storytime animation YouTuber, for the past 5 years i thought of it and i hope someday in the future I'll have the courage to start it properly, cus i truly feel like i can do it and have an audience based of what i see other people do and i want to anyway, hopefully I'll start it finally sometime and when the show will start i could have a pre-push for it

#and i know i sound arrogance thinking about the future fandom and all of that #but i really think i can make something #tell one day a story that will resonates with people #or at least help them get through a hard time as a destruction #I'm not sure why i just wrote it now #maybe so I won't forget #maybe as some remainder in case it'll be a hard journey to go through #but anyways it's here for whenever #show

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pillowbelphs · 3 years

Text

Can you Please Just Hold me? - Lucifer, Satan, Diavolo

genre: fluff

word count: all of them are between 360-380 words

@skatingempress asked: Prompt #16 with Satan and/or Lucifer? 🥺

@obeyme-arkham asked: Hii! So I have a bunch of ideas and I hope your ready for them! So can I get prompt numbers 15 and 16 with Diavolo? So he found out that MC doesn't have a good relationship with their father, and he is determined to be the one that they never had. Lol I've always saw dia as a father figure so if its weird for you, you don't have to do it. And also I'm putting my requests from anyone onto a masterlist and if your not okay with that lmk 🙂

Prompts 15.”“I’m right here.” and prompt 16, “Can you just please hold me?” from this list

author’s note: since there were multiple requests for this prompt, i’ve decided to merge them all together in a sort of reaction-type post, i hope that’s okay! and for diabolo’s i made sure to use both prompts asked for from the prompt list!

if you have any more requests, don’t hesitate to ask!

xoxo moon

Lucifer;

- it had been a long day at R.A.D, and everything seemed to be going wrong

- you tripped up the stairs, dropping all of your books and securing you a seat in detention

- you had forgotten your lunch or beel had eaten it without you noticing, and you hadn’t brought any money with you

- and to top it off, it seemed as if everyone was giving you an attitude today

- you were honestly so exhausted by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to head to lucifer’s office; just straight to bed

- you ended up going into his office anyway, sitting down on the couch he had an closing your eyes.

- “how’s my rebel?”

- “oh, so you heard about my detention?”

- “mammon was having a fit about it on the way home, he nearly popped a blood vessel from laughing.”

- “I don’t want to talk about it”

- lucifer did not dare to press any further, sensing that you were not in the mood to discuss much of anything

- for a while, the sound of his pen signing documents was all that could be heard coming from his office

- you shifted on the couch a few times, not being able to get comfy

- of course, this captured his attention

- “are you alright?”

- “how much paperwork do you have left?”

- lucifer looked at his desk; it was only a small stack, it shouldn’t take him more than an hour to finish.

- “only a little bit.”

- after he had finishes the paperwork, he got up from his desk

- you thought he was coming towards you, but instead, he walked right passed you and out the door

- you groaned, wanting nothing more than your boyfriends attention soon he came back in, and before he could sit back down, you stood up and blocked his way

- you were clearly exasperated

- “what’s the matter?”

- “can you please just hold me?”

- lucifer smiled softly, pulling you into his arms without a second thought

- “it’s quite late…” he said, “and you still haven’t done any homework”

- you groaned into his chest

- he pet your hair softly

- “but…since i just made up our bed for you, i suppose we can turn in now and do it in the morning, hm?”

Satan;

- you hadn’t been able to sleep at all for the past week

- with your room next to levi’s, and a new multiplayer game being just released, all you heard every night was him screaming through his headset to his teammates

- which , in all honesty, didn’t really bother you

- except for the fact that mammon’s room was on the other side

- mammon had bought a new projector and had decided to start watching action movies at midnight every night

- you were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and it left you highly irritated every morning

- it was the weekend, and you had the option to sleep in

- and yet, because it was the weekend

- it meant that the aforementioned two demons were partaking in their hobbies all hours of the day

- leaving you yet again with no chance to sleep

- after hours of trying, you decided to make the walk to your boyfriends room

- would books be all over his bed? probably

- did you care that you would most likely be sleeping atop the A,D and G issues of the encyclopedia? not at all

- you knocked on his door softly, the sounds from down the hallway already fading from your ears

- “come in” he hummed

- you opened the door to see him sitting on his bed, with a book in his hand

- he smiled at you softly, placing his book on his side table

- his smile soon dropped, though, as he saw the dark circles underneath your eyes

- “are you okay my love?”

- “i’m exhausted,” you said, falling into his embrace as he stroked your hair gently

- “it is mammon?”

- “and levi,” you said, now wrapping your arms around him, “i haven’t slept in days”

- without a second thought, he wiped the books from his bed a true gentleman and helped you lay down

- he even fluffed his pillow for you

- “is there anything you need?”

-“would you please just..hold me?”

- he smiled, nodding softly as he crawled into bed with you and wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on top of your forehead

- it was the first time in weeks you had gotten sleep, and it was the best sleep you had had in years.

Diavolo;

- You had quickly formed a relationship with Diavolo

- your whole entire life, you lacked a strong fatherly figure to help and take care of you and baby you when needed

- this changed though, once you came down to the Devildom

- like most kids do when their parents are teachers in their school, you found yourself waltzing down to his office

- even during classes, usually excusing yourself for a bathroom break

- and he never stopped you

- usually inviting you to stay for tea, and even reprimanding teachers who raised a question when they saw that you stopped returning to class after leaving

- during your visits to his castle, you even had a designated spot on the couch

- Barbatos knew the way you liked your tea like the back of his hand

- one day, you had been at his home, watching a movie

- when a scene with a child and their father came on

- you began tearing softly, wiping the tears away and hoping that diavolo didn’t notice

- but, of course, he did

- “(y/n), why are you crying? would you like to turn off the movie?”

- he sat next to you, resting his arm around your shoulders

- which made you start crying even more

- you felt comfortable around diavolo, which made you open up about everything

- you never had a strong relationship with your father, often having to navigate the world on your own and without a guiding hand

- hearing this broke diavolos heart

- he squeezed you shoulders

- “hey, I’m right here.”

- which, in turn, made you cry harder

- though he usually felt too flustered watching people cry, and would start freaking out and feeling unsure of what to do

- he knew you needed someone

- and he wasn’t going to leave your side

- “is there anything you need? some tea maybe? i can call barb—“

- “can you please just hold me?”

- the sad, lonely look in your eyes made his heart ache

- he nodded, squeezing your shoulder and pulling you into him without a second thought

- letting you cry into his collar bone

- he’ll have this shirt dry cleaned anyway

- the whole time you were crying, he was whispering affirming things into your ear

- “i’ll protect you from now on, okay, (y/n)? you’re not alone anymore.”

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bratkook · 3 years

Text

one chance. (m) knj. teaser.

pairing. flash!namjoon x reader genre. fluff, angst, smut, superhero!au word count. approx 20k warnings. light hearted, some fighting (not graphic), mentions of character death (also not graphic...or permanent), mutual pining, namjoon is an adorably sweet dork !! smut: tbd as i write! but ofc filthy summary. namjoon knows he only has one chance to go back and make things right, but is he prepared to live with the potential consequences that his actions could cause? note. this was going to be part of a bts super hero collab that fell through (& i hope the author’s involved still post their fics) i’m about halfway through writing it and hope this will give me the motivation to finish it lmao. i might do a tag list if anyone is interested?? lmk muah.

The searing pain is felt before Namjoon even hits the floor, shooting down his fingertips when he attempts to move them, making his shoulder ache with each breath he takes. The plastic drums he had just collided into—an impact at a speed they weren’t designed to withhold—lay tattered in bits and chunks all around him, cold water that would typically be held inside them now spilled out and soaking into his suit.

A hiss escapes his lips as he remains on the wet floor, already hearing the rushing footsteps approaching him. “It’s broken!” he shouts out, wincing when he once again attempts to move his arm. “Why isn’t it healing if it’s broken?”

When you and Hoseok finally reach him, you breathe a sigh of relief. From the absolute chaos his crash had caused, you were expecting to see him a lot more battered and bruised. Instead he lay on his side, hand gently cradling his aching shoulder with a grimace on his face.

“Holy shit, that was awesome.” Hoseok barely spares a glance at Namjoon, overstepping him to assess the damage caused, tapping away at the screen of his tablet as he does so, checking the speed data he had captured.

“You told me these would hold,” Namjoon grumbles, foot kicking a nearby scrap of plastic, another groan leaving him when his shoulder throbs.

“That was just a guess.” Hoseok brushes him off, continuing to type away as he circles the crash scene. He only approaches Namjoon to pluck the Go-pro off his head, pocketing it with a sheepish smile on his face.

With a subtle eye roll, you’re crouching down to meet Namjoon’s body, hands gently reaching out to see what the problem was. He lets his hand fall from it’s protective position, eyes squeezing shut as he waits for the burst of pain to come, jaw clenching when your fingers press along his shoulder, clearly feeling the way it had popped out of place.

“It’s not healing because it’s not broken.” Namjoon finally opens his eyes now, peering up at you and gulping when he realizes just how close you are. He can clearly see the worry in your eyes as you try to see just how bad it is, a crease between your brows that he wants to rub out with the pad of his thumb, small frown on your lips that only makes him feel worse for going against your warning of this being a bad idea.

A small huff spills from your lips once you realize you won’t be able to help him until you’re back at the lab without this suit—a suit that Hoseok calls his pride and joy—covering him up. “It’s dislocated. You probably tore some ligaments and tendons, but those will heal up just fine once we pop it back into place.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt?” he whines out, huffing out the strands of his brown hair that had fallen over his face and gasping in pain when you purposely prod at the swollen joint with a small glare.

“I’ll make sure it does so you remember to never go against my warnings.”

“Oh god, you’re doing this on purpose!” Namjoon yells, sat on the cold chair, knees pulled up as he braces for the pain.

“I told you I was,” you smirk, extending his arm out, hands placed against his palm with the other on his trap muscle to get a good grip. The loose threads of his suit tickle his skin, a product of you cutting the fabric to double check that the only thing wrong was in fact his dislocated shoulder.

Did you actually have to cut it? No. This was just your childish way of getting back at Hoseok for convincing Namjoon to do this.

The grimace never leaves his face as you stretch the limb out, twisting it slowly to the right angle before pulling back with a slight pop once it settles back into its rightful spot.

He feels the relief instantly, tense muscles relaxing as he sags back into the chair, face no longer contorted in pain when you gently lower his arm. Namjoon swears he’s never felt better, already able to lift his arms as if nothing ever happened, the torn tendons quickly repaired and back to normal thanks to his regenerative ability.

“Good to go. If you pop it out of place again you’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Yeah right. I’ll just have Hoseok do it for me.”

Right on cue, a crash sounds out behind you, followed by a shout and an apology as Hoseok picks up whatever gadget he was currently working on.

“You sure about that?” you question with a smug smile, crossing your arms under your chest as you step back. As smart and helpful as Hoseok was, his mind was far too focused on the technology surrounding him. If Namjoon seriously injured himself, the only person who would know what to do, was you.

He knew this, and sometimes he liked that fact, not opposed to the way you’d constantly worry about him—totally choosing to ignore the reason why you did so was because it was your job. That tiny factor in the equation was tucked into the back of his mind. His small crush was innocent, and if looking forward to seeing what color lipstick you’d wear that day helped him deal with getting poked, questioned, and forced to run on a treadmill to document his speed, then that's fine by him.

“I won’t dislocate my shoulder again. I promise.”

Something about the smile on his face does nothing to ease your worry, and as Hoseok emerges from his room with a giddy laugh, you feel the need to pry.

“What the hell were you trying to do anyway?”

“I think we’re close!” Hoseok announces, your question being brushed aside as he thrusts his tablet into Namjoon’s now fully mobile arms. The only thing lighting up the screen is a skew of numbers along with a diagram and some fancy looking animated figure that slightly resembled himself. It meant nothing to Namjoon so he doesn’t bother trying to decipher it, looking back up at Hoseok with a confused expression.

“I don’t think me making those plastic drums explode got us any closer.” A small shiver courses through him as he recalls the pain from his shoulder once more.

“Oh yeah, that was pointless. But I think I figured out another way.” Hoseok grabs the tablet once more, tapping a few more times before another animation fills the screen. Peering over his shoulder you spot what it is, a golden animation of what looks to be a treadmill, swirls flowing on either side of them that you believe to represent wind.

“Another way for what?” You question again, not liking the sly look on Hoseok’s face.

“Time travel.” He says it so casually, not even sparing you a glance as he flips the tablet over to show Namjoon.

That wasn’t what you were expecting. When you had walked in on Hoseok pitching the idea to Namjoon, wanting to document his full speed, push it further to see what more he was capable of, you thought it was just to gather information to help when it came to figuring out a plan of action the next time a meta-human decided to torment the city.

“Time travel?” you repeat, a displeased look on your face that Namjoon spots instantly. The small wrinkle between your brows is back and he can’t even allow himself to find it adorable because the small glare you were giving Hoseok changes course and stares directly at him.

“Yeah,” he quietly admits, pressing his lips together gently. His saving grace comes in the form of his phone ringing loudly, cutting through the tense silence and making him jolt in his seat, hands fumbling for the device.

He has never been more thankful to get a call from work, your scolding being directed at Hoseok now, but Namjoon can hear it through his current conversation. The worried tone in your voice is clear as you question Hoseok’s sanity, stating how dangerous time travel could be in the grand scheme of things. Hoseok can only stumble over his words, flustered at being on the receiving end of your lecture.

Namjoon ends the phone call right on time to hear you shout, “Are you trying to start World War three?!”

“I gotta go…” he whispers, slowly sliding off the chair trying to be as quiet as possible, hoping he wouldn’t be detected. But before he can flash out of there, you’re looking at him again.

“Not so fast.” He freezes instantly, hands lifted up in front of him. “We’re not done talking about this—“

“I know, but I gotta go. I do have an actual job after all.”

Hoseok glares at Namjoon, “So you’re gonna leave me here to get yelled at...alone?”

Namjoon gives him a guilty smile, shrugging and mumbling out a quick apology before bolting out of there—literally. Your hair flows up at the speed, Hoseok’s shirt flapping wildly, and nearby documents scatter around from the gust of air he had caused. The only thing left behind is the red suit draped across the chair he had been sitting on, flashing out of it and into his regular clothes before leaving to work.

“What was the Gopro for?” you question. As much as you didn’t like the idea of time travel, you were slightly curious about the entire situation.

“Just thought it’d be sick to film it. Like imagine if it actually works and we have solid proof?” Hoseok’s eyes glimmer at the prospect of it all, tapping at the screen to replay the footage captured earlier. The two of you have front row seats of Namjoon’s earlier crash, and seeing the chaos along with hearing Namjoon’s grunts of pain a second time makes you glare at Hoseok once again.

You reach forward and grab the discarded red suit from the chair, balling it up and tossing it at Hoseok’s face. “Patch it up. I had to rip the sleeve to properly see his shoulder.”

He whines loudly as he peels the material off of his face, fingers clutching the precious suit and gasping when he spots the torn area. “You monster!”

#namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #bts fics #new #teaser

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tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

muse

A/n: hello everyone!! im very excited to put this out :-) i was going to make a long one shot but ive never written anything multi-part before and i wanted to give it a go!! also my first time with an oc 🌟so i hope everyone enjoys!! not sure when the next part will come out but i wanna upload at least once a week or every two weeks or something idk haha but anywayssss lmk ur thoughts!

biggest, biggest thank u to my love @harryysstyless for beta reading and being so encouraging<333 luv u!!

photographer oc x harry styles

please let me know your thoughts on miss aminah, iman, serena, and harry!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

Los Angeles was your newest muse.

You had always been the spontaneous type. It came as no shock to your family and friends when you told them you had purchased a one-way ticket and were moving across the country. Although your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter moving so far away from them, they helped you withdraw your savings and find a modest apartment in LA before sending you on your way.

Your reason for moving to LA was simple, really. You were a freelance photographer that felt your career was growing rather… stagnant. You had a thick portfolio and were proud of the work you produced, but your clientele wasn’t as impressive as you’d hope it would be after nearly six years of working at it.

And so began your desire to move from New York to Los Angeles— one big city to the next.

People who knew you often described you as ambitious, fiery, and an absolute go-getter. If your big move scared you in any way, no one knew any better. Your confidence never faltered— not even in the slightest.

After nearly three months of being in LA, you developed a routine of sorts. You’d wake up, eat a breakfast that almost always consisted of avocado toast and coffee, and go on a run. After your run, you would come home, shower, and decide how far you wanted to venture to take pictures that day.

Sometimes your roommates, Serena and Iman, would join you to keep you company. Although you’d never met either one of them before answering their ad for a roommate on Craigslist, you had grown extremely close to the girls in the few months that you’d known them. Despite the two girls being friends since their childhood, they never made you feel left out, and you fit in with them effortlessly.

During your short time in the city, there were so many places you had been, but still, even more you had yet to see. Serena and Iman, both native Angelenos, would often suggest spots for you to check out and even offer to drive you around— you were from New York after all, and at twenty-four years old, you were still not the owner of a driver's license.

“You’ve never been to North Hollywood yet, right Aminah?” Iman questioned as you all lounged around, trying to come up with a place you had not yet been.

“No, I haven’t really gone anywhere farther than walking distance,” you reply, looking around the cramped living room for your camera bag. “Or the places you guys have driven me. That was still considered Downtown though, right? Where we went the other day?” You were still getting used to how absolutely massive Los Angeles was.

“We should go to Santa Monica or something— wait, Malibu!” Serena exclaims. “We have to go to Malibu, Mina. It’s so nice there, you could totally get a bunch of good shots.”

“Yeah, we might even see a celebrity!” Iman chimes in, stifling laughter.

It was an on-going joke between the three of you. When you first moved to LA, you told your roommates that you couldn’t wait to make your way around the city because you were hoping to run into a celebrity. It was Los Angeles after all— you figured they were everywhere.

You quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Celebrities here kept a low-profile and even if you did encounter a celebrity, it’s not like you would approach them. “You’re not funny, Iman,” you tell your roommate with a roll of your eyes.

“Yes I am,” Iman quips, wiggling her eyebrows. “If we’re gonna go to Malibu then I gotta change. Can I borrow a cute shirt from anyone?”

A short twenty minutes later, the three of you were piled in Serena’s car on your way to Malibu. You’d heard of the city before and knew it was a wealthy area, but that’s about it. Your roommates promised you that out of all the beaches in LA, Malibu had the nicest ones, and lots of places to take pictures. Since none of you had anything to do, you all decided it was as good a day as any to have a beach day and get some shots of your roommates to add to your portfolio. Since you didn’t know anyone except Serena and Iman, the pictures on your camera from the last few months consisted entirely of nature and inanimate objects. While it was good practice, you really preferred to photograph actual people.

“Traffic is so bad today,” you say from the backseat after traveling approximately two feet in five minutes. Iman snorts from the passenger side.

“When isn’t traffic bad, Mina,” she turns to look at you, an amused look on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It always gets backed up at this fuckin’ exit and then as soon as we get past it there’s like, zero traffic.”

“Right! I always complain about how shitty this exit is. I have no clue who designed it,” Serena adds, skipping through songs on her playlist. “It’s still early in the day, though. I’m just hoping the beach won’t be too crowded by the time we get there.”

“I don’t care how crowded the beach is. I just don’t want it to take us forty minutes to find parking…”

You tune out your roommate's voices, instead choosing to focus on the traffic jam outside the car. To Serena and Iman, people who were born and raised in Los Angeles, the city wasn’t necessarily anything special. Sure, they loved how there was always something to do, but the bad drivers, traffic, and smog got old. The novelty of LA hadn’t yet worn off to you, though. You didn’t know how your roommates were content to sit inside the apartment all day when there were tons of things to do basically right outside your doorstep. You felt like you were the one convincing them to go out with you half of the time, and you didn’t even know where you were going.

After what feels like almost entirely too long but was really only half an hour, Serena pulls into a fairly empty parking lot. “Are we not allowed to be here?”

“Why do you think that?” Iman asks, squinting her eyes to read a sign. “It doesn’t say it’s closed. I mean, there are a few cars–– look.” She points to a few cars scattered around the parking lot.

“I mean, it is nine in the morning on a Wednesday. People are probably at work,” you tell the two girls in the front seat. “Besides, there’s someone in the parking booth. Can you even close a beach?”

Serena drives forward, rolling down her window. “I mean, I guess not. You can close the parking lot, though.” You hum in agreement. She quickly pays for parking and tosses her receipt on the dashboard before driving slowly through the parking lot.

“I love when no one’s at the beach,” Iman sighs, clapping her hands. “No one will get in the way of your picture-taking either, Meens.”

You smile at the nickname. “Yeah, that’s true. We picked a perfect time to come too, guys. The lighting’s great.”

“Really? Is it gonna make my skin pop?” Iman turns around and sticks her arm out, sensually running her fingers along it.

“You always look good no matter what the lighting’s like, Iman,” you reply, refraining from rolling your eyes at her. “You have the glowiest complexion out of all of us.”

“We’re literally all the same skin-tone, Aminah,” she retorts, crossing her arms.

“We have different undertones, though,” you answer. “So not really. Plus, Serena is way lighter than us! What are you talking about?”

“Should I park here?” Serena asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Why here? All these empty spots and you wanna park directly next to this car?”

“This is a good spot, Iman. It’s a parking lot. If they didn’t want anyone to park next to them, they should’ve taken an Uber and got dropped off.” She turns into the spot, quickly putting the car in park and crossing her arms to prove her point.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, smiling at your friends’ bickering. They were so close they were basically sisters. They argued sometimes and were quick to call the other out on their shit, and you loved it.

“I just think you’re weird for parking next to this car. It’s a nice car.”

“Who cares, girl?” Serena groans, exasperated. “We’re gonna be on the beach. They’ll probably be gone before we will.” She pops the trunk before unplugging her phone from the aux cord and stepping outside. Iman mimics her before flinging the door open as well and stepping out of the car.

You make sure your camera bag is closed all the way before situating it over your shoulder and climbing out of the car as well.

“It’s kinda cold,” Iman says, wrapping her arms around her body. “If I knew it would be so overcast I would’ve bought a jacket.” Serena hums in agreement and you look up at the sky, unphased.

“It’s like, seventy degrees?” you look at the weather app on your phone in confirmation.

“We get it, Meens. You’re from New York,” Serena teases, closing her trunk. She hands you a few towels and a blanket to carry while she rolls the cooler and Iman carries the beach chairs and umbrella.

“It’s a cold seventy degrees and you know it,” Iman defends. “Look at my goosebumps. I can’t fake this shit.” You shake your head at your overly dramatic friends and follow them down to the beach. You take off your sandals as soon as you’re off the pavement, wiggling your toes in the cold sand.

“We can set up pretty much wherever we want,” Serena points out, tucking flyaway curls behind her ears. “Where do you think the best place to be is, Mina? Y’know, so you can get good pictures?”

“It doesn’t really matter, to be honest,” you tell them distractedly, too busy looking around the beach in awe. Your friends were right–– out of all the beaches you’d visited in Los Angeles so far, this one was the nicest (and cleanest). “Maybe we can get a little closer to the water?”

The three of you walk for a couple of minutes before Iman abruptly stops, dramatically dropping everything she was carrying. “Let’s just set up here. There’s no one around anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“There actually is someone around,” you tell them, looking at a stranger who seemed to be fixated on staring at you and your friends. “Don’t look, but a cute guy is staring at us.” Serena and Iman immediately turn around, shading their eyes from the bit of sun that was starting to peek through the clouds. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away from where you were setting up.

...“Huh,” Serena says, turning back around. “Is it just me, or does that guy look a lot like Harry Styles?” She looks back over her shoulder again, but he’s no longer staring at the three of you, focusing on what appeared to be a book instead.

“Why would Harry Styles be at the beach by himself at nine in the morning?” Iman asks, unfolding a beach chair and flopping down on it.

“Why wouldn’t he? It’s Malibu, dude,” Serena responds. You could tell your friends were about to start bickering again, so you quickly jump in.

“Doesn’t matter. Neither one of you would go up to him even if it was, so what’s the point in arguing about it?” They both raise their eyebrows at you.

“And you would, Mina? Bullshit!” Iman exclaims, laughing. “I dare you to go see if it’s him, and if it is, ask him if he wants to join us.”

“That’s weird! What if it’s not him?”

“Even if it’s not him, we’ll still get to hang out with a cute boy.” Iman points out. Serena nods in agreement and you can’t deny that she makes a convincing argument. “Just ask him if he wants a mimosa or something!”

“No, don’t ask that,” Serena interjects. “Tell him that you’re a photographer and you’re working on building a new portfolio. Ask him if he would be cool with you photographing him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you sure that’s not weird, Serena?”

“Aminah, trust me. I wouldn’t deliberately let you make yourself look weird.” Your roommate reassures you.

And so you found yourself clearing the short distance to where the handsome stranger was laid, half hoping it was Harry Styles, half hoping it was not. You couldn’t act like you weren’t a fan of him–– you thought he was incredibly attractive and enjoyed his music just like most people. If Harry Styles was the first celebrity you encountered during your short time in Los Angeles, you‘d never stop talking about it. Ever.

When you’re almost to him he looks up, dog-earring the page he’s on. After making eye contact with him, there’s no mistaking that this is Harry Styles. You pinch the back of your hand, urging yourself not to freak out. He has a knowing look on his face and you’re grateful for your darker complexion that hides your blush.

“Hi,” you speak first, stopping a few feet away from him. “Uh, my friends and I are just uh, we’re... you know.” You internally wince at your inability to form a coherent sentence. His gaze never breaks from yours and you look away first, growing shyer by the second. If you thought he was beautiful on Instagram, he was even more gorgeous in person. It was incredible.

“Hi,” he finally says after a brief moment of silence. “‘M sorry if I was starin’ at you ladies a moment ago. I jus’ usually never see anyone else this early out here. Are you a photographer?”

You almost ask him how he knows when you realize your camera is still hanging around your neck. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” He’s still staring intently at you.

“Would you like to sit?”

You look over your shoulder at Serena and Iman who were pretending to be preoccupied putting on sunscreen, but you know they were waiting for you to come back with the man you now knew to be Harry Styles.

“Oh, my friends are waiting for me,” Harry looks up at you patiently, waiting for you to continue speaking. “I was actually going to photograph them. I’m working on building up my portfolio. I understand if you can’t for… I dunno, legal reasons? Or if you just don’t want to–– and that’s fine if you don’t, but would it be okay if I photographed you as well?”

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun. It’s kinda boring jus’ readin’ out here on my own,” he agrees quickly, surprising you. Harry stands up and stretches a bit before leaning down to gather up his blanket, towel, water bottle, and book. “What’s your name? I’m Harry.”

You know that Harry knows that you know exactly who he is, but the fact that he introduced himself to you makes him even more endearing. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aminah.”

Harry extends his free hand to you. “It’s very nice to meet you, Aminah.” You love the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth.

As you approach Serena and Iman, their eyes go wide when they realize it really was him. Serena nudges Iman and you know without even having heard it that she’s saying, “I told you so!” Harry stops a bit behind you, smiling at them.

“Hello,” he starts. “S’okay if I join you ladies? Aminah here extended such a nice offer that I jus’ couldn’t pass it up, but wanna check with the two of you first.”

Serena’s mouth is shamelessly hanging open, and you realize that she may have been a bigger fan than she let on. Iman answers for them. “Of course! Mina’s building her portfolio and I bet it would look like, super cool, if you were a part of it!” Harry nods, setting the few things he had with him down.

“I don’t think I would even be the center of attention if ‘m sittin’ beside you beautiful ladies. I’ll jus’ act as a prop or something,” he flashes them a dimpled smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your names? I’m Harry.”

“We know,” Iman answers a little too quickly. “I’m Iman and this is Serena.” Serena gives him a timid wave.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you all. Are you guys from around here?” He lays his blanket beside all of your stuff and sits down cross-legged, not once breaking eye contact with any of you. You had no idea how he did it.

“We live Downtown. We’re only over here so Mina could get some good pictures, she’s a photographer,” Iman answers proudly. “She’s amazing, but she’ll never admit it.”

“Iman…,” you trail off. “Stop, dude.”

“It’s true,” Serena jumps into the conversation, now seemingly over the initial shock of who was sitting barely two feet away from her. “She’s the best photographer I know.” Harry turns to look at you, an amused look on his face.

“That’s a hefty claim. I can’t wait to see your photography skills, Aminah.”

“They’re just hyping me up,” you reply, making a mental note to yell at your friends for embarrassing you once the three of you were alone again. “I’m not that good.”

“That looks pretty professional to me,” Harry says, gesturing to the camera that has not yet left your neck since arriving at the beach. “I bet you’re just as good as they say you are.” You look away, hiding your face. Iman, being the wing woman she is, can tell you’re growing flustered from all the attention and moves the conversation away from you.

“Do any of y’all want a mimosa?” Before anyone can even answer her, she’s popping open the champagne and handing the orange juice to Serena to open. Harry politely declines, as he drove himself to the beach that morning. You and Iman are ultimately the only ones who indulge in a drink since you were the only ones not driving.

Talking to Harry was like catching up with an old friend. He wanted to know everything about the three of you and whenever he felt the conversation was becoming too much about him, he quickly changed the subject. Harry learned that Iman and Serena have been friends since the second grade when Iman pushed some boy off of the monkey bars for teasing Serena. He learned your favorite take-out spots, your favorite bars, and what freeways Iman and Serena tried to avoid at all cost (it was the 405, which he agreed with). What seemed to intrigue Harry the most, though, was him learning that you just moved from New York and had never even been to Los Angeles before moving.

“Why did you pick somewhere all the way across the country that you’d never even vacationed at before?” He had a look of confusion written across his face. You shrug, not really knowing the answer.

“I mean, I’ve seen it on TV shows and in movies. That doesn’t count?” you joke. Harry still looks utterly bewildered.

“I mean… no?”

Serena laughs. “We were just as confused as you were, Harry. We were scared for a moment when she moved in because we were like, oh shit, what if she’s insane? You know? Like, what sane person would move all the way across the country to live somewhere they’d never even vacationed before?”

You let out an offended, “heyyyy”, lightly smacking Serena’s thigh. “I just needed a change and I’m a drastic person! I either go all-in when I do something, or I just don’t do it at all.” You defend yourself.

“I actually think that’s really fuckin’ cool,” Harry says after a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could just… up an’ go. Y’know?” you all nod, and it falls silent again. “Well, should we take some pictures now?”

Any intimidation you felt to photograph Harry disappeared as soon as he started posing for you.

Being that he was a major celebrity, he was no stranger to posing for a photoshoot. Harry was ethereal–– you knew the pictures of him would most likely require minimal to no editing. Serena and Iman also looked incredible, and you were thankful to have such gorgeous people as your muses. You were taking pictures of them in various places around the beach, only stopping once it started getting too crowded. There were starting to be too many people in the background of your shots and Harry wanted to get going, not particularly in the mood to be recognized. The three of you decide you should get going too. You had more than enough pictures to go through and besides, you were all starting to grow hungry.

Harry follows the three of you to the parking lot, keeping his head down the entire way. The closer you got to Serena’s car, the sadder you got. You didn’t want to stop talking to Harry and photographing him. However, you knew you were just in the right place at the right time, and it was likely that you’d never cross paths with him any time soon–– if ever again.

“Thank you for letting me photograph you,” you tell him sincerely once you were almost to Serena’s car. “That was really kind of you. I can promise you I won’t post them anywhere without your permission or like, disclose the location or anything like that.”

Harry finally looks up, determining you were far enough away from the crowds and he was no longer at risk of getting recognized. “It was my pleasure, really. Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends. It was a lot of fun getting to know you all.” You feel your body heat up.

“Where did you park?”

“Right there,” Harry points straight ahead. “You?”

You let out a loud laugh, causing Serena and Iman, who was walking slightly ahead of you and Harry, to turn around and look at the two of you. “We parked right next to you! Iman was getting on Serena for parking next to you because the lot was pretty much empty when we got here this morning.”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess it’s fate that we crossed paths then, yeah?” You let out a quiet hum in agreement, stopping a few feet in front of Serena’s car. You hear her and Iman debating on where you should stop for lunch, but you were waiting to see what Harry would say next.

“Aminah? After you get a chance to look at those pictures, do you think you can send them to my manager? His name’s Jeff. I’d love to see how they come out.”

“Oh yeah, of course! Do you have his business card or something?” You were excited that Harry actually cared to see your work but based on the couple of hours you spent interacting with him, you learned he was just an overall insanely kind person.

“I can jus’ put his contact info in your phone? If you don’t mind,” his gaze falters, a sheepish look on his face.

“Totally! Let me just unlock my phone,” you dig in the pocket of your shorts, pulling your phone out and unlocking it with your face. You hand it over to him and while he’s looking down typing you glance over at your roommates who had shocked looks on their faces. You would explain to them later that he wasn’t giving you his number, just his managers, but for now, you’d let them think he was giving his number to you out of all people–– a total stranger.

Harry hands it back to you a few moments later, running his fingers through his hair. “Thank you again for such a great morning, Aminah. I’ll let you get goin’, don’t wanna hold you ladies up any longer,” he waves at Serena and Iman. “It was really nice to meet all of you. Hope to see you all again soon.” You notice that his gaze lingers on you for a moment when he says that, and you feel your body heat up for what must have been at least the tenth time that day.

The three of you watch as Harry unlocks his car and throws his items haphazardly into the passenger side before climbing in, slamming the door shut. His car starts immediately afterwards and he gives you a quick nod before quickly backing out of the spot, leaving. None of you say anything for a bit, just processing what just happened. Serena is the first one to speak, her hand on the handle of her car door.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Harry fucking Styles?” her voice raises at least two octaves and you know she’s about to have a mini freakout. “Did he ask for your number, Meens?”

“No dude, he just gave me his manager's number. He wants to see how the pictures come out after I edit them,” you tell her, opening the backseat of her car. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, that’s definitely a big deal, Aminah. Stop being so humble,” Iman tells you, exaggerated annoyance lacing her voice. “Did you see how he looked at you? When he said, ‘Hope to see you all again soon’?” She puts on a terrible posh accent.

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, shaking out the blanket and beach towels before throwing them onto the seat. “Where are we gonna eat?”

Iman and Serena pile into the car as well, telling you about the three restaurants they were stuck choosing between. You hum distractedly, typing the name ‘Jeff’ into your contacts to see if Harry left a number and an email, or just an email. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the name is nowhere to be found in your contact list. You chalk up the mistake to Harry just forgetting to press ‘save’ after creating the contact and figure you can just find his manager’s contact information on the internet somewhere. As you’re scrolling back up through your contact list, your eye lands on a name that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

Harry Styles.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles one shot #uhhh idk what else to tag this #enjoy!!

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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 3 years

Text

just for you, honeybee (3/?)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers x reader (platonic)

word count: 3,986

authors note: part three!!!! I'm honestly so happy with how this is turning out so please leave feedback and lmk how I'm doing! thank you all so much :)

warnings: swearing, super soldier serum injection, needles, drinking

summary: dating back to 1943, you, james barnes, and steve rogers were best friends, including bucky being your boyfriend. when you get a notice that bucky died in the war, you make it your mission to find closure for yourself and protect steve as he is the only remaining piece of bucky you have left. once you are offered the super soldier serum, you and steve must make your way through world war 2 - and the unknown future hardships to come.

recap: You picked at your nails, anxiety swallowing you whole, “and what if you don’t make it back, either?”

“I will.”

It had only taken you 5 days to make up your mind: either go with Steve as he finishes out his mission with the army or wait in Brooklyn upon his return. “Well,” you always bit back, “if you return.”

You did not want to stay in Brooklyn and wait for Steve to come back. You had done that with Bucky and after learning his tragic death, you needed to go with Steve. You didn’t care who you had to fight – you were protecting Steve Rogers and looking after him, just like James would have wanted.

Peggy Carter immediately welcomed you and seemed somewhat relieved when you had met with them outside your apartment complex, bags packed and ready to go. She had given you a soft smile and a nod, making you feel more at calm with your decision. However, before you left, you needed to say goodbye – just in case.

Dressed in a tie-neck floral dress, you headed across the street to where Grover was, selling newspapers once again in the early morning. However, when he wasn’t on the sidewalk, he was in your apartment, holding you as you cried for Bucky. Grover had helped you open Bucky’s files and put on his dog tags; he was there while Steve was sorting out your arrangements with Peggy. He had your snot stains on his nicest shirts that you always apologized for, and he had carefully placed the dog tags over your head; Grover was certainly one of your rocks when Steve needed to grieve on his own, which you understood.

Noticing your approaching figure, Grover stood up and shooed people away from his stand, meeting you halfway. He noticed your solemn look, “you goin’ with Mr. America?”

With a nod, you wrapped your arms around the older man’s neck, his chubby arms meeting your waist in a split second, “I have to, Grove. I needta’ keep my promise to James, and watch after Stevie.”

Grover tightened his grip around you and squeezed, much like a father would, “sure that super soldier can’t do it himself? Looks more than capable.”

You shook your head against his neck, “I promised – I promised James; you know that.”

Grover pulled away, resting his hands on your shoulders, “I know you did, kid…but that don’t mean it still pains me to see ya go…Come back here, the both of you, in one piece – ya hear me?”

With a nod, you squeezed Grover’s hand on your shoulder and went back to where Steve and Peggy were standing by an army truck, your bags already in the trunk. As the two looked back at you, you gave a curt nod, “I’m ready.”

Steve helped you into the backseat as Peggy headed up front, starting the truck up once you were all piled in. As you rode off, away from Brooklyn, you looked back to your home, and gave a sad wave to Grover who was already back to selling newspapers – but you saw him wiping his cheeks. Tears flooded your eyes as you imagined you and Bucky finding a nice white picket house in Brooklyn once he came back like he promised. Turning back around, you wiped your eyes, looking forward to the road, a hand wrapped around Bucky’s dog tags.

Only a little while into the car ride, you leaned forward, asking the two soldiers a question, “where exactly are we headed?”

Steve turned around towards you, “first, Camp Lehigh where we’ll get you some ID so they know you’re with Peggy and me. Then, London, where Colonel Phillips got a lead on Schmidt’s new hideout.”

You looked down at your nails, picking at the skin surrounding them, “can I be of help in any way? And, uh… who is Schmidt?”

Peggy glanced back at you for a quick moment, “how are your fighting skills, y/n?”

Steve gave her a glare, “no, absolutely not.”

The driver looked back once more, expecting an answer. You glanced at Steve, “I’ve got experience with guns and hand-on-hand combat.”

Steve shook his head, “that’s nice but I’m not letting you do what I think Peggy is insinuating.”

Peggy elbowed him before she answered you, “there’s a chance your skills may come in handy, Miss y/n, but it won’t be an easy feat.”

You nodded to her, “I’d like to be of any service I can, Agent Carter.”

Steve grumbled, “am I just invisible to you two?” That finally got a giggle out of you and Steve glanced back, squeezing your hand, before turning towards the front.

You waited a few moments before you tapped Steve’s shoulder, getting his attention, “hmm?”

With a head tilt, you asked again, “who is this Schmidt guy? Never got an answer earlier.”

Steve seemed a bit tense when you asked before answering you, “he’s a confidant to Hitler and closely affiliated with Hydra. Once we take down Schmidt, we get closer to taking down Hitler.”

Your eyes had widened during his short summary, “so you really been killin’ Nazis, Stevie?”

He huffed, “been trying too – mostly taking over Hydra bases. Buck was more the killing Nazi type.”

With a slight smile, you squeezed Steve’s hand, “sounds like our James.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, save for some mindless chatter over Peggy’s radio.

By the time you three got to Camp Lehigh, getting your identification was nothing out of the ordinary; however, being looked at with either such sorrow or surprise was a shock. You had assumed people knew about Bucky, but you never thought Bucky had told everyone about the girl from home, nor that they knew what she looked like. Tears flooded your eyes very quickly at the image of Bucky boasting about his Brooklyn girl and everything about her, and apparently, his words got all the way back to New Jersey.

Even when you got to the London Bunker, more dejected looks were given your way. Some sick part of you wished he hadn’t made you such a big deal, but if he were still alive, you’d be flustered. With subtle hands, you quietly put Bucky’s dog talks within your new army greens officer uniform. While you definitely were not an officer, Peggy had no problem lending you one of hers, telling you that if someone had a problem with it, take it up with her.

You clearly remembered her conversation as she dragged you into her tent, quickly shoveling through a trunk of hers, “are you alright wearing one of these? I have a few different sizes – whatever fits you.”

You accepted a green skirt of hers with a nod, along with a tan-colored blouse and a green jacket. Thankfully, it had no medals on it so you didn’t exactly feel as if you were impersonating a soldier.

You looked towards Peggy as she made her leave, “thank you, Agent Carter…You truly did not have to do this but – but I appreciate it.”

Peggy gave a soft smile as she opened the tent, “anything for Barnes’ girl.”

Right when she left, you sobbed for a good 20 minutes. You remember mumbling to yourself, “I hope I still am your best girl, Jamie.”

Over the next few days, you had quickly grown accustomed to the troops' fast pace and overall serious atmosphere, along with their Colonel. You would never admit it to the man, but Colonel Phillips scared you when you two had first met; you wondered if he had ever laughed in his entire life. And you definitely wouldn’t tell him this either, but you knew he was a big softie underneath that whole ‘I’m Colonel Phillips and you have to be intimidated by me’ attitude. Once you had arrived in London, you made it your mission to make the Colonel laugh, whether it be at your expense or someone else’s – but it took your mind off James; well, as much as it could.

One man who admired your mission and seemed to play along with it was Mr. Howard Stark; when the two of you weren’t messing around, history was being made, and changing the world for the better was your first priority.

Besides his cocky attitude, Howard had truly become one of your favorite people – besides Captain America himself, of course. When Steve had introduced you to the team focused on finding Schmidt and the rest of Hydra, Howard had taken to you liking a father hen, showing you his new tech and his favorite, the new vibranium shield he made for Cap. He was so ecstatic about showing a new face his greatest creation and how indestructible it was; as he told you, everyone else did not seem as impressed and he needed someone with a brain like yours to comprehend what he made.

While nobody else knew, he had also shown you the last remaining vial of the super-soldier serum Dr. Erskine had made and thus, what Howard had been trying to recreate. He had almost been successful but told you he did not want to use Erskine’s last vial on someone, in case it ever came to that. Instead, he wanted to try his own, one that would not affect one’s looks physically but included all the enhancements. Now that got you intrigued; you loved Steve, truly, but if you ever got the chance to take Stark’s serum and wanted a husband in the future, you did not want to look so…bulky.

The two of you worked closely together, using Stark brainpower and L/N design skills and expert eye to create the new symbol for Captain America.

With a pretty decent paint job on your part, both you and Howard took a step back from the upheld shield, looking over the new red, white and blue design, fit with a silver star. Tears filled your eyes but you refused to let them fall as Howard rested a hand on your back – your Stevie would be carrying that shield proudly very shortly.

Howard pulled you into a quick side hug, “Sergeant Barnes would be proud of you, kid. Look at you, designing Captain America’s new shield!”

With a soft laugh, you wiped your eyes, “I hope he would be.”

Before Howard stepped away to give you some space, you grabbed onto his arm, eyes darting towards the suitcase underneath his desk, “can I ask you something, Howard?”

Howard crossed his arms, “what’s goin’ on inside that head of yours, kiddo?”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, “listen, I know you’re gonna say no, but I just… I need to get this out.”

Howard noticed your serious tone and pulled you against a corner of the huge bunker that had been your home for the past couple of days, surrounded by books that you had read in record time, “go on, kid.”

You fumbled over your words, nails scratching against your skin, “do you think – do you think I could take the serum? Your recreation, of course – I saw your successful attempts and I want to take it. I’ve thought it over, truly, and it’s what I want. Ever since James – ever since James died, I’ve felt so lost and useless; I want to do something, something that James would be proud of. And I know you’re gonna say no, but Howard, I really need to do this, so please-“

Howard interrupted you, hand held up calmly, “let’s talk to Colonel Phillips, okay?”

Your eyes grew wide, “real-really? No immediate reprimanding?”

He looked at you with soft eyes, “I know what you’re feeling, y/n, and it’s not a good feeling. While I wish there was another solution other than you taking the serum, I – I’m not opposed to it. Maybe we need a sidekick.”

You gave a slight smile as he grinned back, “thank you, Howie.” He pinched your arm in response to his nickname, narrowing his eyes playfully.

The moment you asked Colonel Phillips for a private meeting with you, him, Howard, and Peggy, he already seemed on edge. Woke up on the wrong side of the cot, sour coffee, you weren’t sure – but you were sure that he was not going to be happy with your idea.

As expected, the meeting with Colonel Phillips was not exactly great; he may have thrown a fit and yelled at you for even suggesting such a thing. Okay, ouch, that stung – you genuinely thought it was a good idea.

You had interrupted during such fit, “sir, may I remind you that Steve Rogers had no prior fighting experience yet he got the super-soldier serum? I have the skills – well, some skills - the will to fight, and the…”

You stopped.

“I have a purpose, just like Steve,” you began once more, “Hydra took away the most important person in my life and I’ll be damned to hell if I’m not gonna do anything to stop them. So please, sir, let me do this.”

Peggy Carter stood beside Colonel Phillips, her lips twitching up in a slight smile, “you remind me of him. Of Barnes.” The Colonel grumbled.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, “I guess he rubbed off on me.”

Peggy looked to Colonel Phillips as he was deep in thought, until he spoke, “you talk to Rogers about this?”

You shook your head, “no, sir.”

Colonel Phillips crossed his arms, “I suggest you bring it to his attention before we make a final decision, l/n. Then, if we decide yes, we’re going to need to change the plan just a tad bit.”

With a nod, you stood up and walked out of the meeting room, hoping to find Steve around the corner somewhere; on your way out, you already heard Colonel Phillips grumbling about how it would be nice to have another super-soldier.

One of the Howling Commandos spoke up during your search for Steve, “he’s over at Crocker’s Folly. Bar right across the street from here, kid.” You thanked him and walked out of the site, spotting a very beat-down bar just across the street, surprisingly still standing.

Heading over, you had honestly no idea how to bring up the idea of you taking the serum to Steve; it definitely was no normal conversation. You knew he would say no, but you wanted to take it and be of use during the war and avenge Bucky in any way you could. Once inside, you heard a radio in the distance of the bar, unsure of what song was playing. Following the sound, broken glass and among other things crunched under your footsteps, letting Steve know someone was there.

Sitting at a table with a bottle of liquor and a glass by himself, your best friend turned around and glanced at you, pulling up a chair. You gave a small smile, finding the seat right across from him, “are you okay?”

Steve shrugged, “that Dr. Erskine said the serum wouldn’t just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells. Create a protective system of regeneration and healing… which means uh.. –“

“You can’t get drunk.”

Steve shot you a look, “when you’d get so smart?”

You kicked his foot with a chuckle, “when I started hangin’ out with Howard.”

He gave a sad smile as tears flooded his eyes, “I am so sorry, y/n.”

You choked back a sob, eyes filling with tears, “it wasn’t your fault, Stevie. I know that you did everything you could.”

Steve’s eyes were brimmed red, “how are you – how are you staying so strong?”

Clearing your throat of the sob making its way up, you licked your lips, “I feel like I’ve cried too many tears, Steve. I want to cry more, my god I do, but I know he wouldn’t want that.”

Steve nodded, “’m sorry to bring him up, I just…” he mumbled, “I’m going to kill Schmidt and all of Hydra if it’s the last thing ‘m gonna do, y/n.” His hand had curled into a fist and you felt the anger radiating off of him.

You grasped his hand, softly uncurling it, “I actually wanted to talk to you about something, pertaining Schmidt.”

Steve let out a grumble, taking one last sip of his drink, “everything okay?”

You nodded, “I – I’m okay. But Howard…he has a remaining vial of the serum from Dr. Erskine and has even recreated it himself. I talked to Peggy and Colonel Phillips and I’m going to take it, the recreation.”

Steve’s eyes shot up to yours, “Y/N, I can’t – I can’t let you do that. It’s too dangerous and I promised –“

“Steve,” you stopped him, “I know you promised Bucky that you would look out for me. I promised him that about you, too. But I want to do this. It’s my decision and I’m hoping you’ll let me do this for myself and Buck.”

The man across from you looked down at his glass for a long while before he looked you in the eyes with a grin, “’gonna pretend I can get drunk and forget why I even agreed.”

A small smile formed on your lips as you reached over, squeezing his hand, “thank you, Stevie. Now c’mon, we got a serum to inject and plans to tweak.”

When the two of you reached the bunker once again, you nodded to Howard and he let out a breath. He was not exactly looking forward to this, injecting you with the serum, but it’s what you wanted. Word quickly got to Colonel Phillips who seemed a bit relieved himself, glad there were no tantrums thrown – much like his.

Down the many halls of the bunker, Howard, Peggy, and a few nurses prepared an operation room, a bed centered in the middle of the room as lights displayed it. Once you were injected, you would need a few moments to recollect yourself – both of them knew this.

You, Colonel Phillips, and Steve stood outside the operation room, looking in as Howard laid out the serum and sedation if needed. The Colonel spoke up first, looking down at you, “you certain about this? There’s no guarantee you’ll live.”

You nodded, “I’m aware, Colonel. But I’ve thought it through and it’s what I want.”

Steve looked to you as the Colonel looked on, “you yell for me if you need me, okay? I’m right outside.” You gave him a small smile before you headed inside per Howard’s direction.

Steve stopped you once more, “and y/n?”

You turned around to look at him as he continued, “you’re a good person. Maybe not a perfect soldier yet, but a good person.”

You smiled at Steve, “looks like I’ll need you as my teacher once I become your sidekick, Stevie.” You both let out a chuckle.

Nurses stood behind the two tables surrounding the cot you were instructed to lay on, taking off your shirt and tossing it into Peggy’s arms, letting out a whistle, immediately calming your nerves. You flashed her a smile which she returned.

Bright lights shining onto your body – now only clad in a bra and some army green cargo pants – your gaze shifted to Howard. He looked albeit nervous but once he caught your eye, all nerves disappeared, “how ya feelin’ kid?”

You chuckled, “like I’m about to be turned into a super-soldier.”

Howard’s shoulders shook with a slight laugh, “that’s nuts – it’s almost as if I’m administering said serum. I’m gonna inject you with some penicillin, okay?”

You nodded your head, looking towards the window where you saw Steve looking way too tense. With a smile, you gave him a thumbs up in which he chuckled at, shaking his head. Beside him stood the Colonel who looked nervous himself, but with a blow-kiss, you saw him roll his eyes and turn back into your stern Colonel Phillips.

Howard spoke up, grabbing your attention, “now, y/n, your transformation will be a bit different from Steve’s, but the outcome should be the same – just no outer physical changes, as I mentioned. No need for nerves. You ready?”

You nodded, and with a deep breath, you felt the sharp needle penetrate your skin, injecting you with the serum. As the serum coursed through your veins, your skin felt as if it were on fire, your breaths growing quicker and sweat already forming on your skin. Howard noticed your breaths, “deep breaths, kid, don’t rush the process. You got this. How ya feelin’?”

You grunted, “burning – hot but cold. Freezer burn.”

Howard grew pale, somehow making sense of your words, “okay, y/n, you gotta fight this. Don’t let the serum override your body – you gotta let it combine with your cells. C’mon, kid!” Peggy’s grip tightened on your shirt as she looked on, whispering words of encouragement.

Outside, Steve and Colonel Phillips began pacing, the Colonel glaring through the window, telling himself that he could telepathically communicate with you and force you to live through this. Steve bit his thumb, growing more and more anxious by the second.

Your body had now started to sweat profusely, the shine adding itself to your figure as you breathed heavier, a gasp and a sharp scream leaving your lips. Steve immediately ran in, holding your hand, “y/n, come on, please! Fight this – don’t give up, please. I – I need you, we all do.”

In a split second, your eyes opened, meeting Steve’s for a split second before you let out another yell, eyes squeezing shut once more, “Steve! It hurts – it hurts!”

Your whole body felt as if it were on fire yet hypothermic, your chest feeling so heavy that it was difficult to breathe. Every cell in your body felt as if it were being torn apart and being put back together again; you talked to yourself in your head, “how the hell did Steve do this?”

Steve ran a hand over your now-damp hair, “I know, I know, but you got this, y/n. Once you beat this, we’ll go and kill those sonsabitches at Hydra, you hear me? You gotta beat this.”

Over time, which honestly felt like hours, your body slowly started to welcome the serum and new changes within your body, your breathing returning to normal and sweat disappearing onto the cot below you, body returning to normal temperature. With only a slightly bloody nose, you felt…good. Resting against the cot, you let out a sigh, eyes fluttering.

Howard hooked an IV up to your arm, returning the liquids you had sweat out, pushing your shoulder lightly, “’gotta talk to me, kid.”

You grumbled, “’m tired…but feel like I could run a marathon.”

Steve’s hand squeezed yours as he let out a laugh, looking up to the ceiling, “that’s your girl, Barnes. You did great, y/n – you did great.”

Eyes still shut, you hummed, “mmm…do I have abs of steel now?”

Steve chuckled, “would it make you feel better if I said yes?”

You nodded your head, a dopey smile on your face. Steve continued, “I wouldn’t want to fight you in the ring, bug.”

Slowly but surely, you opened your eyes, adjusting to the way your body felt and sensed everything around you. With a grunt, you rubbed your eyes, glancing at your hands – hmm, they looked the same?

Howard noticed your confusion, “Remember what I said, kid? No outer physical changes, but you got all the upgrades Rogers has. Better looking, obviously,” you let out a soft laugh, “just not as bulky.”

With a hum, you sat up, fighting off Steve and Howard’s mother hen tendencies, “’mentioned that earlier…bulky. ‘m fine, by the way – stop worryin’.”

Slowly getting off the cot, you walked around the room, stretching your legs and your whole body. Everything felt different but good; it’s like your senses and every cell within your body were heightened. “It felt cold,” you mentioned to Howard, “the serum.”

He nodded, “as opposed to the vita-rays, we had to keep it in cold storage. Easier that way.”

You hummed, and while turning around in the small room, your eyes met Steve’s once more, “well Captain, what now?”

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