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stronginawayjbb · 2 years

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Christmas With the Starks

Hi everyone!! I have a very early Christmas fic. No shame. Soon to be cross posted on AO3. Enjoy! 💕

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Tags: fluff, slight angst

Summary: Christmas with Tony Stark is a little different than a normal family. Despite the holiday, heroes don't get a break from saving the world.

Taglist: @mostly-marvel-musings ❤️

It was Christmas eve. Usually, you weren’t a fan of the holiday season. It reminded you too much of the past you had tried so hard to leave behind. However, this year, you were content. It was your first Christmas with your new husband, billionaire Tony Stark. Yes, you were the lovely Mrs. Stark, and you were all too happy to change your name. Sure, it wasn't your first Christmas together, but the first one as a married couple. The two of you had decided to spend the holiday at the Malibu mansion, not wanting to deal with the snow and bitter cold of New York. Being in New York at Christmas also reminded Tony of his parents’ deaths. He figured being in sunny Malibu with you would be better. New traditions could start, and it could just be the newlyweds.

He still considered it to be your honeymoon, despite being married nearly two weeks ago. He was so busy finding every place he could fuck you that he’d ignored all of Steve’s calls, telling JARVIS to decline every call and take a message. Soon, the voicemail was overflowing with a concerned captain, but Tony remained unfazed.

The two of you were cuddled up on the couch together, sipping piña coladas and watching some forgotten show. You both were wrapped up in conversation, talking about memories from the past couple of months.

"I'm so glad Natasha was my maid of honor. I couldn't have imagined having anyone else beside me for our wedding."

"I still can't get over how beautiful you looked. That dress fit you just right. Your pearl necklace looked incredible with it. I am a pretty amazing gift giver, if I do say so myself," Tony teased. You felt a pang in your chest as you laughed. You had gotten Tony a Christmas present but you weren't sure if he'd like it. You wanted your first holiday as a married couple to be perfect. However, it seemed as though all of that was falling apart.

"Sir, a call from Agent Coulson is coming through."

"Decline."

"Tony, you know I can bypass your system."

"Shit, I know. What do you want, Coulson?"

"There's been a Ten Rings attack."

You looked at your husband worriedly. You had a sudden realization that this was what Captain Rogers had been calling about. The threat was here, and Tony knew it was time to spring into action. He looked at you, mouthing "it's okay" to you. It always made you nervous when he went on a mission involving the Ten Rings, considering they'd nearly killed him more than once.

"JARVIS, get Mark 22 ready, it's time for battle."

"We knew Iron Man would be ready. Thank you, Mr. Stark. I will debrief you when you return."

Agent Coulson gave Tony some more specifics that you tuned out. It was Christmas Eve, couldn't the world stop committing crime for two days? You just wanted a nice holiday with your husband.

The phone call ended, and you looked to a hurried Tony who was suiting up.

"Please be safe, baby."

He put his armored hand to your cheek, kissing you before he dropped his mask.

"I will be back shortly, honey. I promise."

He walked out to the balcony, taking off to fly to God knows where. He'd made promises before. Most of the time, he wasn’t able to keep them. Promises like “I promise we can get a kitten from the shelter” or “I promise I’ll take you to Build-A-Bear.” Sometimes it was even “I promise I’ll come to bed tonight” and “I promise I’ll drink water and eat something today.” The former set didn’t matter to you that much, but the latter set always worried you. Ever since being held hostage in Afghanistan, Tony hadn’t been the same. He'd never let on to anything, but you knew he wasn’t quite right. Having him out fighting the Ten Rings made you more nervous than any other mission he’d been on. What if they captured him again? What if this time, they actually killed him? Would you ever get his wedding ring back or be able to say goodbye?

Before you knew it, you were turning on a news station and pacing the floor. Lights wrapped around the tree and draped over the mantle twinkled in the window’s reflection. The sun had just set over the ocean, and seeing the dark blue expanse made your heart ache. You knew Tony was worlds away, and all you could do was pray he was safe. The news had nothing interesting on, but soon enough, the familiar red and gold was flashing across your screen. He was somewhere in Monaco, it seemed. Last time he was there, he encountered Ivan Vanko, and he’d nearly lost his life while racing. If Pepper hadn’t come to his rescue with his suit in a briefcase, he definitely wouldn’t be here right now.

Seeing Iron Man in Monaco caused you to panic.

“JARVIS, can I get an update on tony’s suit please?”

“It seems his suit is at 50% power and rapidly draining with no end to the mission in sight. I am putting a significant amount of effort into keeping him from going into cardiac arrest from palladium poisoning.”

“J, call Tony, please.”

You could hear the call attempting to go through, and then the line went dead.

“JARVIS! get tony on the phone!”

“I’m sorry, miss. He's declined your call.”

“What the fuck, Tones?” you cursed out loud to the walls and the still-wrapped presents under the tree, knowing nothing was going to get him to accept your call during a mission. He had to call you. You hoped it was soon. If he was going to die, you at least wanted--

“Honey?” the familiar hurried tone came over the house. Tony's calls were programmed to auto accept.

“Baby, hi. how’s it going?” You breathed a sigh of relief and steeled your nerves for bad news.

“Well, the bad guys are taken care of, but I have to get from Monaco to Malibu on 10% power, which isn’t just stretching it, it’s hoping for a miracle. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I love you, sweetheart.”

Before you could say “I love you” back, the phone had gone silent. Tears welled up in your eyes. Not knowing if your husband would even make it home made your chest ache. You needed him home, in your arms. Your first Christmas together was falling apart already. You didn’t care if he got you an expired, moldy fruitcake he ransacked from a dumpster for Christmas. You just wished he would come back to you.

8p.m. soon turned into 3a.m., and there was still no sign of Iron Man. You began to panic. What if Tony didn’t come home this time? What if he was dead on the side of the road right now? a million thoughts raced through your head, not one of them comforting. All of the sudden, the soft glow of the Christmas lights seemed too cheery. It reminded you of the brown eyed man you loved that still wasn’t home.

You didn’t like to consider yourself a military wife, but since Stark Industries and the Avengers were all intertwined with the government and military, you kind of were. You were glad Tony had never been gone for more than a month at a time. You couldn’t imagine how awful it felt to be away from your spouse for six months or more. Being away from Tony for two days had you feeling lonely. This particular mission, though...one hour felt like a week. He had been gone entirely too long. You had JARVIS turn on a playlist to calm you down. “Love in Slow Motion" by Ed Sheeran came on. You remembered the first time you played it for Tony. You two were on a picnic in Central Park with the beautiful spring sun shining down on you both. He looked at you like you hung the very stars he soared among, and in that moment he vowed to never take you for granted. It was the song you danced to on the boat the afternoon he proposed at Lake Tahoe. All the good memories associated with the tune washed over you like a tidal wave of nostalgia.

It's been a while since we've been alone

To turn off the world and the telephone

Need to tell you you're beautiful, 'cause it's been a while, and I apologize

I just get caught up in the rat race I'm runnin'

Chasin' a moment, I'm hoping is comin'

If I stopped and took a look around

It's in front of my eyes, eyes

Baby let's slow down time

Maybe just press rewind

Darling, that dress reminds

Me of the first time

“And I wanna love tonight, one on one by the candlelight. Over and over, we spend our lives living fast forward, but not tonight. Love in slow motion.”

The familiar tenor voice came from behind you. You whipped around to discover your favorite man on the planet. Your husband, Tony Stark. His voice was just barely above a whisper, the same one he used when he needed to calm you down from a panic attack. You ran into his open arms, and he looked nearly the same as when he'd left.

"You're home," you breathed out, all your worries vanishing in his arms.

"I promised. I'll always come home."

You pushed yourself back, not wanting to leave his embrace but needing to look at his injuries. As suspected, he had a few cuts on his face. One on his cheekbone, one on his eyebrow, one on his chin. The blood had dried up but they still needed tending to. You took his hand, dragging him to the medical cabinet that was kept fully stocked at all times in every area of the mansion.

"Babe do we have to do this every time? I'm fine. Everything is dry, I promise." Tony loved to argue about you fixing up his battle injuries but you knew even the smallest cut could cause an infection, especially because it's hard telling what he was exposed to wherever his mission was.

"Yes, because for the thousandth time, it's important to keep all wounds clean, dry, and sterile so the chance of infection is decreased. You knew this would happen when you married a nurse-turned-Stark CEO."

He'd never admit to it, but he was grateful for it. He had noticed he was sick less since you started taking care of him, and it probably had something to do with actually keeping wounds covered and clean. JARVIS would tell him there's a correlation, but Tony was never too keen on actually believing it. He did enjoy the extra attention, though.

You cleaned off each wound with hydrogen peroxide, then wiped it off with an alcohol swab. He winced every time but you knew he was just being dramatic, as always. After each cut had been properly bandaged, you were holding him on the couch. He leaned against your chest, and your fingers were mindlessly carding through his tangled curls. Your mind wandered to something JARVIS had said earlier, something about...palladium poisoning? Cardiac arrest? You worked to keep your breathing steady so you wouldn’t disturb a very peaceful looking Tony. You hated to interrupt his thoughts but this was important. You had to know.

“Tones?”

“Yes, love?”

You took a deep breath, not wanting to freak him out.

“Earlier, when I asked JARVIS for a status update on your suit, he said something about--” you were cut off by sobs. Tony was so young, you didn’t want to lose him. He still had caramel highlights in his hair from this past summer, no grey in sight. He had to grow old with you.

Tony shot up, immediately knowing what you were going on about.

“Palladium poisoning,” he whispered, sitting criss-cross between your legs. he pulled you into his lap, holding you to his chest.

“Honey, I didn’t want to worry you, so I was working on finding a replacement. I found an element that dad discovered in the 70s, but I needed to figure out how to implement it into my arc reactor. I wanna call it ‘badassium’ but I can’t get that patented. I have it mostly figured out, but I do need some help changing it out," he explained. You felt his breathing become more shallow, waiting on your response. He kept you close with one hand, the other going to wipe away your tears and tuck your hair behind your ear. "I'm sorry, baby. I knew I shouldn't have kept that from you but you were so excited about the wedding and this and us – I didn't wanna ruin that by telling you I was kind of dying."

His doctor had determined that surgery would be too risky right now. He needed to get his diet under control and cut back his caffeine so his body could heal properly. Removing shrapnel is no small feat.

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for? I can’t lose you, Tones. Not yet.”

He nodded and kissed you softly. "So I take that as you'll be my assistant?" he asked with a little chuckle.

You rolled your eyes and dragged him down to his lab, immediately spotting the new arc reactor sitting on one of his work benches.

“Okay, tell me what I need to do.” He gave you a signature Stark eye roll as you washed your hands and put on a pair of gloves.

“It's not that bad, sweetheart. This can wait a couple days.”

“Nope. JARVIS said your suit was draining power because he was trying to keep you from going into cardiac arrest. We’re not waiting anymore, Mr. Stark.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed in defeat. His shirt came off and he attached himself to an EKG as a formality. Tony sat down in a raised chair and leaned back, exposing his chest and arc reactor. He held the new reactor in one hand and pulled out the old one with the other.

“Now, we've only got a few minutes, so what I need you to do is stick your hand down in the hole and grab the copper wire. it's just like Operation, don't let the metal touch the sides.”

“I don't think I'm qualified to do this,” you answered, hesitant.

“Nope, you're the most qualified and competent person for the job,” he assured. You stuck your hand down in his chest, feeling some kind of discharge in the cavity. Through all the squishy...whatever, you finally felt the wire.

“Okay, the wire should be loosely wrapped around the magnet. I need you to undo it and leave the magnet in,” he instructs next. You nod and work with your fingers as best you can without looking. You hated the gloves because you couldn't feel as well, but it would have to do. Eventually you got it and gently pulled out the wire. He gave you a smile as he plugged in his new arc reactor to the base plate. He drew in a breath through his teeth and screwed his eyes shut for a moment, then seemed to be okay.

"Babe are you alright?" you ask softly.

He looks up at you with loving eyes, a little smile on his face. “Pretty sure that shrapnel thought it had a chance for a second but we got it.”

Your eyes softened as you took off your gloves and threw them away, "Don't scare me like that ever again."

"Point taken. Thank you, sweetheart." He looked out his lab windows to see the sky looking a deep orange shade. Sunrise. "And seeing as it's officially Christmas now...wanna go open presents?"

"Oh, darling, you didn't need to get me anything. You're quite the present enough."

He looked at you with a funny look on his face. "Well, considering the fact that you got me a present, I figured it only fair to get you something."

You smiled on the outside, but on the inside, you were nervous. You had gotten something made, and then made something yourself. You weren't sure if he'd like either of the items. They weren't expensive, but they were heartfelt.

As you two settled in on the couch upstairs, presents in front of you, funny nicknames on all the tags, tony took your hand. "Honey, I just wanted to tell you I love you. Thank you for putting up with all my shit. I know you worry but I promise I will always come back."

You smiled softly. "I love you too, tones." You handed him the smaller of the gifts, wrapped beautifully and topped with a tiny gold bow. "Open it."

He tore the wrapping off to reveal a small white box, which he opened to reveal a silver toned ring, engraved all around with something. He looked at it confused, and you got nervous, so you explained.

"It's my thumbprint. I had it sized to your middle finger so you could wear it by your wedding ring. There's an engraving on the inside, too."

He held it up to the light, revealing the "til Valhalla" written on the inside.

"In Norse mythology, Valhalla is the hall where all the heroes and warriors go after passing in battle. It's supposedly beautiful. It's where I hope you go when you're 500 years old, because you're not allowed to die until I die. You'll have me with you til Valhalla, angel."

Tony had tears in his eyes.

"Honey, I… don't even know where to begin. This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. You mean the absolute world to me and I love you so much." He leaned into hug you, resting his forehead against yours and kissing your nose softly. You smiled, whispering against his lips, "I have one more, love."

You handed him the slightly bigger one. He unwrapped it, trying not to cry again. You had painted him an abstract version of his arc reactor, circling it with "proof that tony stark has a heart."

"Good God these gifts are perfect, I love you I love you I love you."

"I'm glad you think so, babe."

"Okay, my turn." He handed you a semi small box. You could tell someone else had wrapped it because tony had the wrapping skills of a two year old, but that would be an insult to toddlers.

You carefully unwrapped it, not knowing what he could have possibly given you that you don't already have. On the front, in his chicken scratch handwriting, were the words "coupon book."

It was your turn to be confused, and Tony was carefully studying your reaction. You opened it up, flipping through the pages. It was cute shit, not actual coupons. Things like "good for 1 trip to Build a Bear to pick out whatever you want" and "good for 1 kitten adoption." There was even a "good for getting me out of the lab whenever you want" coupon, and it looked like it had unlimited uses and no expiration date.

"Tony, this is so precious. I love it. thank you thank you thank you. I love you so much, Tones." you cupped his face, kissing him. Before you knew it, he was picking you up bridal style, carrying you to your bedroom.

"Now, if there are no objections, I'd like to go to bed."

"That sounds good to me, babe," you chuckled, placing your head in the crook of his neck. "Best Christmas ever."

#tony stark x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tony stark #iron man #mcu fanfic #self insert

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saratogaroadwrites · 10 months

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Vow

Vow | saratogaroad rating:G wordcount: 865 characters: Shiro, Reader (GN-OC) relationships: Shiro/Reader other tags: Mentions of other Voltron Paladins warnings: None

"Hey..." He holds you to him, voice rumbling through your bones, "I'm here. I won't leave you again."

You know better than to believe that. Still...

"Do--do you promise?" You hiccup, tears blurring out the stars behind him as he pulls away just enough to cradle your head in both hands. He smiles, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, your nose. Then, he leans against you.

"I promise."

(Shiro left someone behind before Kerberos. Now, he's come back. Things will never be the same again.) [Written at the end of Season 2, before we knew Adam existed. Sequel to Promise]

Sunrise comes in a wash of colors and warmth, light restored to the world. To your world. In the dawn light that filters through Keith's tiny bathroom window, Shiro's even more of a mess than before, sharp lines and tired eyes that drink in the sight of empty scrub desert and messy shack. It's like watching a blind man see for the first time, finally understanding what everyone takes for granted.

He's thinner, too. Covered in scars that speak of months of fights. Claw marks, ragged wounds healed improperly. The thin marks that can only be from a scalpel or something like that. Small, perfect holes that speak of projectile weaponry. You catalogue each one, mind going end over end as you snip and shave his hair, Keith bark and bluster just outside the bathroom door.

A lot can happen in a year, you think to yourself, but this is...something else entirely.

"What happened?" You finally get the nerve to ask, the fine strands of his hair clinging to your fingers as you finish up. He's tense, metal and flesh hands grasping at his knees, dressed in his own clothes that Keith had stored here. He stares at the floor, but his eyes are distant, staring into a space where you can never stand, and perhaps...never understand.

"I don't remember." His voice is soft, barely a whisper. "I don't...there's this..." He takes a breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth. He looks up at you through the mirror, through the shock of white hair you weren't sure how to cut. The morning sun casts odd shadows on his face. Your stomach churns again. "There's this black hole in my memory. I remember leaving the Garrison, the launch, getting to Kerberos, but after..." He closes his eyes. "Just...flashes. Nothing I can put together."

Trauma, supplies the bookish part of your brain. This time you don't shush it, taking in the lines of his starved body, the scars on his flesh. Your stomach churns, and you swallow it down. Maybe it's better he can't remember.

"Well." You say, then have to clear your throat. You reach down for his hands, flesh and metal alike. The temperature difference is stark, but his grip is gentle as he closes his fingers around yours. "What really matters is you're home. We can figure out the rest as we go."

He smiles at you, kissing your palm.

"Business as usual, huh?"

"Business as usual."

---- Except it's not. It's really not. Things go to hell in a handbasket faster than you can say your own name.

What happens after...well. Half the time you're still not quite sure. --- Half-sentient, ancient battle lions. One of whom has been sitting, on Earth, for ten thousand years.

Actual aliens. Actual talking, walking, breathing aliens. Spaceships. A corrupting empire spreading across the stars like a plague.

Pidge, Lance, Hunk. Keith. Shiro. Destined to fight it in a legendary space robot like something out of a mecha anime, even if half the time they can all barely get along. Maybe that's half the point, you think to yourself, standing on the Arusian hillside just outside the Castle. Unfamiliar stars whirl overhead, not a single constellation marked in the clear skies.

You never did end up finding Mars that night. Now, you wouldn't have a single clue where to look.

"You know," Shiro says, causing you to turn around to see him walking up the hill behind you., "I was thinking about it, and..."

"Yeah?"

"I kept my promise." He smiles. "I came back."

You can't help it. You laugh. His smile only widens as he comes to stand beside you, shoulder warm beneath your arm as you have to reach out for support. Laughter shakes your sides, your shoulder, your throat. Slowly, it gives way to tears. The grief of the past year clogs your throat, burns your eyes.

For a year he was gone. Dead. His name is carved on a memorial for Progress into the stars, stars humanity will never understand are so much bigger than they ever could have imagined. For a year, you mourned him, mourned the color pulled out of your life with Shiro, and now...

Now he is back, the color has returned, and it hurts. You can't breathe for the pain of it, the heaving sobs that wrack your body and bring you both to your knees. He pulls you in to a hug, cradling your head against his shoulder, warm and so very alive.

"Hey..." He holds you to him, voice rumbling through your bones, "I'm here. I won't leave you again."

You know better than to believe that. Still...

"I promise."

You should know better than to believe that. Still, as he holds you to his chest and lets you learn that he's alive again, you find yourself believing it anyway.

Maybe that's what makes what comes after so much harder.

#voltron #Voltron legendary defender #voltron fic #shiro x oc #shiro x reader #!fic #series: vows

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queeenpersephone · 1 year

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I know you already wrote Endgame by taylor for tonynat buuut how about something inspired by "you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks so here's the truth from my red lips"? love your writing <3

hi love! so you're right, i did, and so i'm going to answer your prompt in a roundabout way (by spoiling that fic a little) hope you don't mind! here's part one of my end game fic <3

one.

O U R P R E S E N T F U T U R I S T

By Karen Page

“Mr. Stark, thank you for joining me this morning.”

The man himself, Anthony Edward Stark, sits across from me, legs crossed. His suit is neatly pressed, his hair perfect. There is a faint bruise along his jaw, but considering his latest fight is available on YouTube, I have no need to ask. He is riding on an immense victory of another kind, the revised Sokovia Accords having just been successfully pushed through the UN.

“The pleasure is all yours,” he snarks, but a quick grin that quirks at the edge of his mouth tells me it is in jest. The words are flirty, but his eyes stay either on mine or on his phone, which fills up with more messages every minute - I feel almost guilty keeping him, a feeling that I assure you is unfamiliar. It is almost surreal to be with the man who, for better or worse, ushered in the era of public superheroes in which we now live. I tell him so.

He doesn’t look surprised, instead giving me a wry, self-deprecating grin. “That sounds cool, doesn’t it? Really, I just can’t keep my damn mouth shut.”

“You have said a lot of controversial things over the years.”

Tony laughs, and it is contagious. I can’t help but smile back. “Yeah, well put me down as on the straight and narrow, will you?”

The Accords, I know, have to be a sore point, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t mention them. “You were the first signer of the Sokovia Accords. Do you ever regret the ‘straight and narrow,’ as you put it?”

Tony straightens a little, but his cool confidence remains. “The Accords have been subjected to a very thorough revising process, managed by two people I’d trust with my life.” He pauses, and I let him. “There are a lot of things I won’t say,” he tells me finally, “but no, I don’t regret it. We have a responsibility, and however we can fulfill it… well…”

“What do you mean?”

Tony thinks, then a soft smile crosses his face. “If we have one hand on the wheel,” he says, a level to his tone that makes me think he is quoting someone, “we can still steer.”

I decide to act on my hunch. “Your words?”

“Good catch,” he laughs. “No, the words of a woman far wiser than me.” He fumbles a little with his hands, twisting a plain, black ring on his fifth finger.

“And how is Miss Romanoff?” My hunches have not failed me yet. “Is she in the city?”

I am asking, of course, about his famous partner, the Black Widow. After a very public kiss on the tails of the Accords announcement, the media has been going crazy to discover the hows, whens, and whys of the whole affair. Details of their relationship are extremely rare, so I resolve to tread carefully.

“That’s classified,” he jokes, and though it is said as a joke, I also think it was the most serious thing he has said in the interview thus far. I would bet money that this man would not reveal his girlfriend’s location, even under the most extreme torture.

It’s clear that this line of investigation is not going to go anywhere, so I switch tracks. “How are these Accords different from the original documents, Mr. Stark?”

He just raises an eyebrow. “Read them, if you want to know,” he brushes off. Then he leans forward. “I care about my team - we’re gonna stick together because you never know when we’ll be needed. And that would be impossible with the way the Accords were written before the revisions.”

I nod. This isn’t new information. Many suspect that Tony Stark takes every opportunity to tell the public that the Avengers are needed, whole and ready to protect the Earth, so that his lost team members will know they are welcome back whenever they are ready.

“And are the Avengers ready? If they are needed?”

I don’t know why I expected Stark to take a while to answer this question, but it surprises me when he abandons his glances at his still-blowing-up phone, looking me straight in the eyes. I don’t even have written notes from this portion of the interview. I was completely captured by the man in front of me. He seems larger than life.

“The Avengers will always come together to defend the Earth. No matter how difficult it is. That’s the end game.” He leans back, and I do the same, released from that intensity, letting out an obvious exhale. Tony Stark just smirks, and in that moment, I realize that the Black Widow must be the only one who could ever handle him.

Still, he grins at me, and I smile back, immediately at ease when he wants me to be. “But my job is to make it as easy as possible. Thank you, Ms. Page.”

I know a dismissal when I hear one. And, without protest (which is very unlike me), I stand up and go.

(read more on page 4)

#ironwidow #tonynat #ironwidow writing #marvel #marvel writing #my writing #so it goes is next btw!#almost done with that one #y'all should definitely bug me about it lol #tony x natasha #answered #prompt #anonymous #hope you didn't mind this anon!#it's prompt adjacent lol #also i've never seen daredevil so ignore if i #have misrepresented karen

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nadinebrooks-marvel · 2 years

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Here is the link to my masterlist.

Loki x Reader: Was it Worth It?

Warnings: Mention of sexual assault, eating disorders, peer pressuring into drinking, and mean girls. Please let me know if I've forgotten anything!!

As soon as the warm coffee passed (y/n)'s lips, her phone vibrated alerting her that she had a text. She groaned and reluctantly picked her phone up off the marble countertop.

All she wanted was one morning where she could drink her coffee in peace without being interrupted. Just one morning with no meetings, no phone calls, and no urgent emails. (y/n) didn't usually sleep over at the Avenger Tower. She had a nice apartment a couple of blocks over. It was within walking distance of the tower.

Her boss, Tony Stark, did provide her with a bedroom at the tower. He had more than enough rooms to spare. Whenever she had a late night in the office, Tony would insist that she stayed at the tower. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen to her as she was walking back home. He would never be able to forgive himself.

When she looked at the screen of her phone, she expected an email from Tony or even Steve about an upcoming mission. What she wasn’t expecting was a text from an old high school friend.

“Shit.” She mumbled when she finished reading the message. (y/n) had completely forgotten that some of her old friends from high school would be visiting New York this weekend for a couple’s trip.

“Is everything okay?” Came a soft voice from the kitchen table. (y/n) turned slightly to see Loki drinking his morning tea and reading a book. She didn’t even hear him come into the kitchen. He was always so quiet.

The main difference between her apartment and the tower was the fact that someone was always around. It was hard to get any alone time. The only living things at (y/n)'s apartment were the cat she rescued last year named Bingo and a couple of plants.

“Yeah.” She darkly chuckled. “Everything is perfect.” How could she have forgotten? Of course the trip happened to fall perfectly on this weekend. The one weekend this entire month when they didn’t have anything mission related. Tony Stark made sure of it. He had gone out of the country for a couple of days with Pepper.

“Everything doesn’t sound perfect.” Loki took notice of (y/n)’s strained tone. She was usually so upbeat, but whatever she had seen on her phone had her clearly stressed out. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I'm okay Loki.” (y/n) shook her head. She continued staring at her phone as if the text message would disappear. She grabbed her now lukewarm mug of coffee and headed back to her room. “Thank you though.”

(y/n) quickly paced back and forth in her bedroom. There was no way she was getting out of tomorrow's plans. In all honestly, she didn’t even want to see any of these girls. She hadn't seen any of the girls in over three years and she was hoping to keep it that way. They were some of the worst people she had ever met in her life. In the past, they were constantly putting each other down. It was obvious that their favorite target was (y/n).

She grew up going to an extremely prestigious private school back at home. Not only was the tuition an outrageous price, but it was just as difficult to stay enrolled as it was to get accepted into the school. This was the type of school that could get you into any university of your choosing. The majority of their educators graduated from Harvard, Duke, or Columbia.

Up until the age of 11 or so, (y/n) loved school. She loved to learn and she would often go to school early and stay past hours just to hang out in the library. Once (y/n)'s mom joined the Parent Teacher Association (PTA), things started going downhill for her.

The lady in charge of the school's PTA had a daughter named Millie. Millie's step-dad was in charge of admissions at the school. (y/n)'s mom would always arrange activities for Millie and (y/n) to do together. They took tennis and violin lessons together. They even went on vacation togethers. (y/n)'s mom explained to her that staying close to Millie would help her stay enrolled at the school.

To put it simply, Millie was a bully. She was hyper aware that her step-father held the fates of her classmates in her hands and she wouldn’t let them forget it. She forced people to do things out of fear of not being accepted into the school next year. Millie's step-father was a nice guy and he had no idea what his step-daughter was doing.

Millie had this group of girls who would terrorize the entire school. (y/n) reluctantly joined their friend group, but she never directly participated in anything. Because (y/n) never did anything malicious toward anyone, Millie would occasionally turn her bullying to her.

(y/n) thought that allowing Millie to bully and not stopping it was just as bad as if she said something. (y/n) put up with it though. As long as she could stay enrolled, she didn’t care what Millie said or did to her.

Their entire friend group did end up starting university together. (y/n) was a bit of a party girl during that time, but she liked to keep those memories behind her. That was not her best self. After about three years of being in school, all the girls had branched off on their own paths.

(y/n) kept up with Millie on multiple social media platforms. At the moment she was engaged to a wealthy anesthesiologist. The two of them lived in northern California with their Bernese Mountain Dog named Lincoln. They spent a lot of their time traveling the world whenever her boyfriend had some time off.

Millie knew that (y/n) lived in New York and she would occasionally reach out to her whenever she was in the area. Most of the time (y/n) would be off on a mission with the team whenever Millie was around. (y/n) wasn’t exactly a part of the Avengers. She was the team's psychiatrist. She got her medical degree from Johns Hopkins.

It was well known that the majority of the team had a traumatic past. Tony Stark thought it was important to start focusing on his team's mental health. So, he sought out the best of the best in psychiatry. He was then lead to (y/n) who happily accepted the job. It wasn't every day that you were offered the position to work with superheroes. She happily left her small hometown without a second thought.

She would usually tag along on missions and conduct psychological evaluations once the missions were complete. The team also had mandatory meetings with (y/n) at least twice a week. Of course they were more than welcome to speak to her more than that. The team thought that she was rather easy to talk to and they often found themselves in her office way more than what was required of them.

Loki was the only one who didn't seem to spend any extra time in the young doctor's office. He liked being around her in a friendly way, but he didn't like the idea of someone poking around in his brain. On the rare occasion that he did find himself in (y/n)'s office, they would talk about movies and plays.

They had a lot of similar interest. The two of them had gone to see a couple of Broadway plays together. Loki liked to consider (y/n) a friend, but he wasn't sure what she thought about him. He hoped that (y/n) considered him a friend as well. It wasn't like she was going out to Broadway plays with other members of the team.

Millie texted (y/n) about a month ago to remind her about this weekend. She asked her if she could take off work for the weekend. (y/n) promptly responded and told her that her job didn't work like that. If the team needed her, then she was going to be there. But, she would do her best to be available.

Millie would be visiting New York with a couple of their other friends from high school. It would be Summer and Zoey. Summer would be bringing along her fiancé and Zoey would be bringing along her boyfriend that she had been dating since the end of high school.

The hotel that the other girls were staying at had a gorgeous rooftop pool. They would start the day lounging pool with a late brunch, get ready and go to a fancy dinner, then finish the night off with a play. The day actually seemed pretty fun to (y/n). Those are things she liked to do with her friends that she had in New York.

When Millie first extended the invitation to (y/n) over a year ago, she had expected to go with her boyfriend at the time. It wasn't like she needed a partner to do anything with her, but she felt like it would be awkward not to have anyone with her. Especially since everyone else would be coupled up.

She thought about telling Millie that she wasn’t going to make it, but she hated lying. Maybe if she went to this one thing she would stop asking her to meet whenever she came to New York.

Yes, that seemed like a good idea, but where was she going to get a date in the next 24 hours?

She went through the list of the guys in the tower that she was fairly close to. Which one would make a good date? Honestly, every single one of them would make a good date, but she needed a perfect date.

She considered Thor, but he was too boisterous for the events they had planned. Then there was Steve, but he was a little out of touch with the current trends. Her thoughts kept coming back to one guy that she thought would make the perfect date.

Sure, the two of them were close, but is this really something she should be asking from him? The last thing that (y/n) wanted was to make things awkward between the two of them. Now that she was thinking about it, he did owe her. Was she ready to cash in her favor? Before she could talk herself out of it, she found herself walking down the hallway towards Loki's bedroom.

She paced back and forth in front of his bedroom door trying to figure out what exactly she wanted to say to him. Was it really fair of her to ask him to spend an entire day with her? Especially if he was going to have to pretend to be in a relationship with her.

She shook her head talking herself out of it. She would just have to tell Millie that she had broken up with her boyfriend and be okay with being the only person without a significant other.

(y/n) got ready to head back to her room to text Millie, but the door to Loki's room slowly swung open.

"You can come in (y/n)." A soft voice called out to her. She thought about running back to her room, but she didn't think that Loki would appreciate that. So, she took a deep breath and entered the room. Loki was sitting at his desk and it looked as if he had been writing something. "Are you sure there's nothing you need me to help you with? If I do recall correctly, I owe you a favor. I'm completely free this weekend if you need anything. Stark made sure of it."

"Hi Loki," she gave him a small smile walking closer toward him. His intense eyes focused on her face and she felt herself looking anywhere but at him. He was a very handsome man, but (y/n) was able to keep her professionalism at all times. They weren't in a professional setting now which made her a little nervous. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something."

When (y/n) was in her office, she was in charge. She was never nervous when she was around Loki, but they were in his territory now. She knew about Loki's past and that never frightened her.

"Of course." He urgently nodded. What (y/n) didn’t know was that Loki loved the sound of her voice. He could listen to her read the dictionary.

"So, I went to high school and college with a couple of girls. They're not my favorite people in the entire world. In all honesty, these girls were bullies. I can't put all the blame on them though. I definitely said and did some things that I'm not proud of when I was younger to gain their approval. Anyway, a couple of the girls are visiting New York this weekend with their fiancés and boyfriends. I told them that I would join them tomorrow for a brunch, dinner, and a play. When the girl putting this together, Millie, asked if I could come, I had a boyfriend who I was planning on going with. Obviously, I don't have that boyfriend anymore and I just don't want it to be awkward if I'm the only one there without someone, you know? I know that I'm asking a lot from you, but would you want to spend the day with us tomorrow? If not, that is totally fine. I completely understand."

"Let me get this straight love." Loki stated while twirling a pen in between his long slender fingers. She was positive that those fingers could work absolute wonders. She shook her head trying to clear any impure thoughts of him. "You want me to spend the entire day with you pretending to be your boyfriend?"

"You don’t have to actually be my boyfriend." (y/n) shrugged thinking about how that might make him feel. "I just didn't want to be the only one without a plus one."

"Would you prefer if I was your boyfriend?"

"Honestly Loki, yes. But I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I'm already asking a lot of you to hang out with these girls for an entire day." She chewed on my bottom lip thinking about them. He was going to absolutely hate them.

"They can't be that bad." He chuckled. "But I don’t mind at all. It'll be fun. I haven't gotten out of the tower in a while. Deceiving people is what I do best."

"Thank you Loki." (y/n) practically cried wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He froze a little, but eventually he did relax into the hug. (y/n) giggle a little when she pulled back. "I think we're going to have to work on your physical touch."

"I'll be okay tomorrow with all the touching. You just caught me off guard with that one." He admitted and (y/n) swore she could see a faint blush on his cheeks. This was the first time she had even see the god of mischief blush. "I didn't know you used to have a boyfriend."

"Yeah yeah," (y/n) waved him off awkwardly looking away from him. "I know it's shocking that I once had a boyfriend."

"I didn't mean it like that darling. I just think it's surprising that we never heard about him. You're usually a very open person."

"Oh." (y/n) instantly perked up. She was relieved to hear that Loki didn't think she was unlovable. "I mean, there wasn't much to say about him. He wasn't the greatest guy."

"What happened?" (y/n) had peaked Loki's curiosity now. He was starting to realize that he didn't know much about the doctor that him and his team spent so much time with.

"We broke up." (y/n) coldly replied. Loki could tell that he was not someone that she liked to talk about.

"If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?" Loki got out of his desk chair and sat down on the bed. He gestured for (y/n) to sit down beside him. She sat down and let out a sigh before she started talking once again.

"He was amazing at first. It was one of the best relationships I had ever been in. It was great until it wasn’t. I always had a feeling that he was cheating on me, but there was never any evidence for me to confront him with. When I was in medical school, we moved in together. I spent a lot of time studying in the library. When I wasn't doing that, I was working to pay for school. We shared an apartment and there was always things left around from other girls. One time I found a bra that clearly wasn’t my size and another time there was a tube of lipstick that wasn't even a brand that I liked. He swore that all the things were mine and I couldn’t really prove that it wasn’t my stuff.

We dated for a little over three years. When I got the job here, he was happy for me. I realized he was happy because that mean he could cheat in peace without worrying about me catching him. Me being the amazing girlfriend I was, I decided I was going to fly home and surprise him. I got home to find another girl in his bed. I didn't say anything. I'm not even sure he knew I was there. I just moved all my stuff out the next day and that was it."

"I'm so sorry (y/n)." Loki gave (y/n) a warm smile which she easily returned. She knew that the rough exterior was something he used as a coping mechanism. She just wished that this softer side of him was something the rest of the team could see.

"No need to apologize." She waved him off and stood up. "It’s not like you were the one who cheated on me. Besides, I like to think that everything happens for a reason."

"Maybe so." Loki shrugged, "I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry that something like that even happened to you. I'm sure you were amazing to him. He doesn’t deserve to even say that he was with you."

"I didn't see myself dating him for much longer anyways. It wasn't like I was going to marry him or anything."

"Pardon me if I'm being intrusive, but why be in a romantic relationship with someone that you don't see yourself with long term?"

"I don’t really have an answer for that Loki." (y/n) stood in the doorway thinking about his question. "At the time we were both lonely and it felt right."

Loki nodded, but he didn't really seemed pleased with (y/n)'s answer. She didn't know what else to say. That was the only answer she had for him. She really didn't know why she even put up with her old boyfriend. It wasn't like he really had anything going for him.

The following night, (y/n) tossed and turned the entire night. She was nervous about the next day with Loki. What if her "friends" could tell that she wasn't really with Loki? He was the god of lies so tomorrow should be a breeze for him.

In the middle of the night, (y/n) realized that she was more nervous about herself rather than Loki. She had often dreamed of being with Loki in a romantic way and she was worried how being with him in that sense would affect her. She knew that she would have no problems pretending to be in love with Loki.

When she finally dozed off to sleep, it wasn't long before her alarm rang letting her know it was time to get up. Eventually, she managed to crawl out of the comfort of her bed and stumble into her bathroom to get ready.

Usually, (y/n) wouldn’t have taken this long to get ready, but she wanted to look good for her old friends. Her old friends and Loki. She mostly wanted to look good for Loki.

Eventually she decided on a lilac sun dress that stopped about mid-thigh for the brunch. She found a decent enough swimsuit and coverup just in case they did go to the rooftop pool. Lastly she decided on an emerald green cocktail dress and nude heels for the dinner and play.

Once she had packed everything up for the rest of the day, she patiently waited for Loki to finish getting ready. She sat there for a moment scrolling through TikTok until he came into view. (y/n) felt her heart get stuck in her throat. He looked more perfect than usual.

"Are you ready to go love?" He questioned when she hadn't gotten off the couch yet. She was too busy staring at him.

"Yeah." She nodded standing up grabbing her bag. "Are you sure you want to do this Loki? I'm offering you a get out of jail free card. I promise I won't be upset or anything."

"I promise I am okay with doing this (y/n). I wouldn’t have told you yes if I wasn’t. I'm looking forward to spending the day with you." He said before heading toward the elevator. (y/n) followed and the two of them grabbed a cab.

"So tell me about these friends of yours." Loki muttered. "You mentioned that they weren't some of your favorite people."

"No, not at all." (y/n) shook her head. Then she went on to explain how she got pulled into their inner circle.

"Do you think it was worth it?" Loki asked. "Forcing yourself to be friends with them and everything that came along with it."

"I can’t answer that for you Loki. I know I said that everything happens for a reason, but ask me that question again once this weekend is over. I'm not proud of a lot of things I did when I was younger. I was young and stupid so try not to hold it against me. I know they're going to bring some things up so I'm going to go ahead and tell you this now. When I was in college with these girls, I was wild. I don’t like to talk about those days, but they're a part of my life. My college days are the reason I don’t drink anymore."

Loki nodded and it looked as if he was about to ask her to elaborate, but they had pulled up to the hotel. This was one of the nicest hotels she had ever seen. They didn't make them like this where she was from.

She gathered all her belongings and got ready to open the cab door. Before she could open the door, Loki had already came around to open it for her. He held out a hand to help her out.

Then Loki reached down and laced his fingers with (y/n)'s. He did it with such ease it was as if they had been doing it for years. He was already playing the boyfriend role so well. (y/n) felt herself beaming at him. Yeah, pretending to be in love was not going to be hard at all.

As they walked into the lobby of the hotel, (y/n) noticed Millie sitting on one of the couches. It had been years since they had seen each other in person, but they easily recognized each other. Millie flashed her perfect smile as she made her way over to them.

"Is that Millie?" Loki leaned down to whisperer in (y/n) ear. She nodded not trusting her voice in the moment. "She doesn't look that bad."

Well he was in for a rude awakening.

#avengers x fem!reader #marvel mcu #marvel masterlist #avengers masterlist #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson imagine #loki layfeyson x you #loki god of mischief #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki (marvel)#loki laufesyon x reader #avengers marvel #the avengers #avengers imagine #marvel imagine

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calumthoodshands · 2 years

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aria!! hi!! hope all is well!! may I ask u for a ranking of Calum's tour outfits 👀 sending u positive vibes <3

myle!!!! beloved. ok i know i told you i needed time but i am finally forcing myself to do this. unfair as we all know i can only put 10 images in here, so here comes my ranking of calum's top ten outfits of the tour so far!

Starting off, in first place:

1. Milan (May 8th).There’s just something about suits — black suits — that just does it for me. It’s classy, if you do it the usual way, but because he’s Calum Hood and he’s insane, he wore a mesh shirt with it! Gracing us all with nice sneak-peeks of his tattoos. The docs with it really make the look for me, making it edgy. 10/10.

2. Ljubljana (May 6th). Listen. You might not expect this one to be so high up, but hear me out — this outfit is good. He tucked the shirt in, wore a nice grey to let the blue shine, the shirt itself is just one of my absolute personal favourites of his. It has such a pretty colour, the collar is cool with its v-shape, and the necklace really makes it, giving it all a nice finish. The thing about some of his tour outfits so far is that they’re not always… complete. Like there’s a nice shirt okay, and pants, but that’s where the list ends. This outfit is different. It’s fucking good. Almost perfect. 9.5/10.

3. Zurich (May 2nd). Another rather simple outfit, but i really love it. I like the short sleeves on the shirt, the choker/necklace with it, the cut of the pants. The whole dark colour (black i’m pretty sure although it looked green somewhere) really compliments his skin tone. It works so well for him over all! 9/10.

4. Hamburg (April 25th). My show hehe. I LOVE this shirt. What the fuck! It’s so cool, I love the stark contrasts and the motive. Besides, he paired it with shorts (sorry not to show them but i couldn’t not show that grin), and higher socks, and it was just hot. 9/10.

5. Prague (April 29th). Look. The orange sleeves are an eyecatcher. They lift the whole look up to another level! (I’m also an advocate for orange.) i really like it even tho it was otherwise simple. Also, again, the short sleeved button up and shorts with the socks, I am a fan! 8/10.

6. London (April 6th). I think we can all agree that we went a little insane over this. Right? Like… that shirt… had no business being that tight…. Also i really liked the pants! Green on Calum Hood is always a yes from me. And he’s smiling so cute. Apart from that: arm. Thank you! 7/10.

7. Plymouth (April 11th). This outfit has one fault. It is just a little too boring. I love the button up! It’s flowey and of thin material and an interesting pale colour, the cut is really nice, and he makes the wide pants with it work. But. It doesn’t go much further than that unfortunately. Great potential, but not perfectly executed. 7/10.

8. Vienna (May 3rd). Vienna! Vienna. If you missed my reblog spree of this photo you missed out. I reblogged that photo 20 times for a reason. I like this outfit! More every day than stage maybe, but I like that it puts black on the sideline for once, and the grey pants look great on him. The shirt is obviously also very nice. Also necklace. He knows what he’s doing with that and i don’t like it. 6.89/10.

9. Banquet Show (1) in London (April 1st)/Liverpool (April 9th). I’m putting these two together because he wore the same pants and only a different shirt in Liverpool with it. I like the pants, they’re fun! And especially in this case i like the long sleeve bc of the flames on the sleeve. He also wore the necklace with it. Even tho this is also a cosier outfit, the pants do make it and allow this one to be a 6/10.

10. Budapest (April 30th). The thing about this outfit is that while, Arm, that’s also it. I do appreciate arm but i also appreciate fitted clothes, sorry. It’s over all also very… normal. In comparison to the others. So that’s while it only gets a 4/10. Sorry!

Thank you so much for making me do this Myle, it was more fun than I expected!! I hope whoever read it enjoyed it and let me know where you disagree. I’m open to all opinions. Love you Myle!! 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

#ask #myle <>#fettuccinecaterpillar #tmh 2022 #calum hood #i now realised you didn’t ask for a judgement of them but i did it anyway oopos #long post #calum in... orange

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 3 years

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Drunk Words are Sober Truths | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! Please enjoy this fic I wrote while substitute teaching for screaming middle schoolers. Everyone have a lovely day :)

Please message me with any questions, comments, concerns, or suggestions! :)

---------------------------------------

A deep, warm voice cut through the swanky jazz music that filled the air.

"Heyyyyyyy, pretty lady," you heard Bucky slur. His warm hand found its way to the small of your back and you turned to greet your best friend. When your eyes found his, you noticed that he looked different somehow. His dark blue eyes were slightly red and glassy. He had a slack-jawed smile on his face that you'd never seen before, and his hair was slightly mussed. The custom tailored suit jacket he wore was askew just a little, and his tie hung loosely around his neck.

"Hey there, Barnes. You good?" you shot him a quick wink. Dramatically, he nodded his head 'yes' and slung a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you in for a hug.

"I just wanted to come over here and check on my girl...see how you're doing," He examined your face, focusing for a moment on each feature with his glassy eyes.

"Buck, are you drunk?"

He shook his head slightly before busting into a laugh that filled the room.

"Okay, so you're definitely drunk," you teased.

He let out a faux gasp and acted offended. "How dare you, sweetheart! I am NOT drunk!...I am tipsy," he let out another laugh and tightened his grip on you.

"Hang on, I thought you couldn't get drunk? What did you do, break into Stark's wine cellar and drink the whole thing?" You put your hands on your waist in an act of pretend-annoyance. "Are you telling me we could've been getting schwastey together on margaritas by Tony's pool this entire time?"

Another one of Bucky’s booming laughs echoed through the room as he rolled his eyes at you. "Nooooo, Thor brought some...stuff. Ummm, I think it's called...mead? Asgardian mead? I don't know...but it's strong. Really strong." Thor brought his otherworldly libations to every party at the compound, but Bucky had never partaken-until tonight.

"Come on, I'll show you". He grabbed you by the hand and your heart fluttered. The two of you walked hand-in-metal hand toward Thor, Steve, Rhodey, and a few others. Bucky stumbled just a bit and you moved quickly to catch him.

"Woah there, big guy. You good?" He let out a chuckled and threw his arm around your shoulders for support.

"Who? Me? I'm good, doll. I am juuuuuuust fi-" and he tripped again. Steve strode across the room toward the two of you, looking a little tipsy himself. His tie, which was usually straight as an arrow, was crooked and loose. His perfect hair was just a touch out of place and his cheeks were flushed.

"Heyyyy. Can you do me a favor and take Buck upstairs? He's had enough for tonight," Steve said. Bucky gave Steve a dramatic eye roll,

"Come on, Steve. I'm fine. I'm good. I'm...oh, I'm dizzy". Bucky stumbled again and Steve couldn’t help but laugh.

"And that's why she's taking you back to your room. Go sleep it off." Bucky presented Steve with a lazy salute and muttered a sarcastic "Aye, aye, Cap" before shooting a wink at you.

You dragged Bucky to the elevator and pushed the button for Bucky’s floor. "You look really really nice" he murmured. "Like, you look soooo beautiful".

Your face immediately grew hot as you blushed from his compliments. You knew he was just drunk, but hearing him say these things to you made your heart leap into your throat. Having feelings for you best friend was hard, and him saying these types of things to you made it even harder. "Oh, um. Thanks, Buck" you managed to say. He just nodded and leaned against you even more.

The ride upstairs was quiet, but you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. Bucky's arm had moved from your shoulders to your waist and he was stroking your side ever so lightly; you could feel the warmth from his fingers against your skin through the thin fabric of the dress. The elevators doors opened all too soon and you let out a small sigh.

"Come on, super soldier. Let's get you to bed".

Once in his room, Bucky's large frame plopped down on the bed and began fumbling with his tie. His hands clumsily tried undoing the knot over and over until you couldn't watch him struggle anymore.

"Alright, Barnes. Let me", you leaned in toward him and made quick work of removing his tie.

"You're the best, sweetheart" he mumbled as he stared intensely at you. "How many times have you been in here since you moved in?" The question hung in the air as he waited for you to answer.

"In your room? Um, I don't know. A lot?"

"Hmmm. Yeah. A lot...that sounds right. So why haven't we....um, never mind," he muttered as he laid back on his made bed. His eyes closed lazily and you knelt down to untie his dress shoes for him. Your brain ran wild, trying to figure out what he had been going to say. A warm smile spread across his face as you skipped the shoes from his feet.

"Thank you, babe".

All these pet names drove you insane. You knew he was old fashioned, but every time he called you 'sweetheart' or 'doll face', it just made you want him more.

"Any time, Buck.”

He smiled again, "any time, huh? I like the sound of that".

You stood back up and carried his shoes to his closet with a light-hearted, "Oh, hush, Sarge".

He sat up, propping himself up on his elbows and taking you in. "Join me for a minute, will ya, doll?"

You'd laid in his bed hundreds of times for movies nights, deep talks, and Netflix marathons, but this felt different somehow. You nodded, kicked off your heels, and slowly climbed onto the bed. He patted a spot next to him and you took it, laying on his bicep like a pillow.

"Hi" he whispered. You couldn't help but smile at this silly version of Bucky. "Hi, Buck” you murmured back.

It was silent for a long moment, and you assumed Bucky had probably drifted off to sleep. You turned your head to look at him and found his piercing blue eyes looking back at you.

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

He shrugged slightly, "just you". Your cheeks flashed hot again as you turned your head back to center, away from his gaze.

"I feel like we've wasted so much time..." Bucky mumbled. “So much time”.

You turned back to him, "what do you mean?". A deep sigh escaped his lips and he shook his head. "We've just wasted sooooo much time, sweets. Because...I'm always too nervous". You heart was pounding so hard you thought it might break a rib.

"Um, Nervous about what?" His eyes slowly began to close and you knew you were losing him to the effects of Thor's space beer.

"Nervous about...about telling you," he slurred. "Telling you that I love you".

Your stomach did a back flip and you felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. But his confession had come after a night of drinking, and doubt began creeping in. You couldn't tell him how you felt right now- what if it was just the alcohol talking? And there was a chance he wouldn't even remember in the morning.

"Okay," you whispered. "Um, we can talk about it in the morning...if you remember". He gave a sleepy nod, murmured, "I'll remember" and then passed out completely.

You laid there for a while, thinking about what Bucky had just said and whether or not it was true. You knew he loved you as a friend-you were best friends and had been since you moved in. But romantically? You had no idea. All you knew was that the longer you laid next to Bucky, the more you wanted to stay curled up next to him all night long- that was not an option right now. You slowly sat up and removed yourself from his bed, grabbing your shoes and turning off the light as you tiptoed out of the room and down the hall.

Slipping out of your dress and washing your face, you got ready for bed-but your mind was still spinning. You couldn't get your brain to shut down as you climbed into your bed and wished it was Bucky's. You fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning all night while dreaming of one James Buchanan Barnes.

A soft knock woke you up the next morning. You squinted in the morning light and stretched, slowly getting out of bed and trudging to the door. You pulled it open and were greeted by the one person you wanted to see most in the world. Without speaking, his hands encircled your waist and he pulled you close, kissing you with desperate need. Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you gave yourself over fully to Bucky.

He pulled away for just a second to look deeply into your eyes before whispering, "I remember"

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junghelioseok · 3 years

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heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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thefallenbibliophilequote · 3 years

Text

The Asgardian Way

Loki x Reader

Summary: you get your period on the most unfortunate time- on date night with Loki. Embarrassed as you are of the topic from past experiences with boyfriends, Loki shows you that unlike mortal men- Asgardians view this time of the month for women in a much better way.

Word count: 1,849

Warnings: period talk, fluff, shade on Christianity, some shade on human men, Loki being the ideal boyfriend we all deserve.

A/N: this was requested by @the-departed-potato and while I do not take requests I just really had to do this one because this was like just perfect for me specifically to do. Sorry it took so long! Sorry if this sucks!😅 I also truly had to hold myself back from giving even more shade on Christians of old times because damn I could write a whole essay about those people and how they spread misinformation that changed real history to fake mainly bc of witchcraft. This is not beta read so all mistakes are by yours truly!

No one is allowed to repost my writing or steal or copy my work! Reblog on tumblr is fine.

Masterlist

It's been going on for months now, the shameless flirting, the gentleman behaviour, and the devious looks he sent your way that completely contradicted his actions and left you a blushing mess even when he only opened the door for you- then he would wink at you.

It wasn't until one night that you gathered up courage to ask him out.

You were staying late at the Avengers Tower, you wanted to finish working on the new gadget you had built with Tony at the lab so he sent you to bring the two of you some coffee- he knew it was useless to tell you to go home and sleep- last time he tried to do it you called him a hypocrite and conditioned one of his suits to blast him if he gets close to you. You found it hilarious. He made sure to update the security of his code.

You went to the kitchen when you happened to overhear a conversation of two gods.

"Why have you not taken her on a date yet, brother?"

"I wish to court her properly, she deserves to be treated like a lady." You heard Loki respond to his brother. You leaned on the wall, trying not to get hopeful and to get the butterflies to calm down.

"Y/N is a fine lady, however, I heard from Stark that midgardian women might mistake courting like ours as mere jest." You smiled a bit at the scoff they both let out.

"Mortals continue to baffle me." Came Loki's comment, before Thor continued- not letting the subject go.

"Ask her on a date, I'm sure she will appreciate it." He encouraged his brother who wasn't as sure.

"I think, brother, that she is different- she will appreciate the old delicate arts of courting." He was not wrong- you were always old fashioned. But now at his admission, you stepped out of the shadows and into their view.

"While I do appreciate the courting, I'd love it if you would ask me out." Loki turned around at the sound of your voice.

"How long have you been standing there, darling?" he fidgeted with his hair.

"Long enough," you stepped down the stairs to stand in front of him. "What do you say about this Friday night at six? There is an art exhibit at the museum, I think you'll like calling out all the inaccuracies."

"Yeah, I'd like that." He gave you a small shy smile, and you completely forgot about Thor who stood on the side, watching it all unfold.

"This is great," he said. "You two are finally going on that date, see brother I told you-"

Thor stopped when he looked at Loki who sent him daggers at ruining the moment. You only chuckled.

"I have to go get Tony and I some drinks, so I guess I will see you then." You were about to turn around to head towards the kitchen when Loki took your hand in his, making you turn around, then he kissed the back of your hand lightly, bowing with a small smile at the blush on your cheeks.

"I look forward to it."

It took you a couple of second to function after he did that, mumbling a quiet goodbye you turned around and refused to look back at the smirking god.

•

You have gone with the god for a couple of dates now and then, sometimes you didn't see him for a whole week because of meetings in Asgard and while you were sad that you didn't get to see him-you were glad he was gone on that exact week every time.

You have been seeing him for about 2-3 months now and it was great- up until your period decided to come early. Right on your scheduled date.

You were nervously pacing your apartment thinking how to tell Loki that you can't go out with him tonight. You didn't want him to see you like this- he is a god, and you- you are a mortal woman who was having trouble getting out of bed because your body decided to punish you for not being pregnant this month.

Your body was so sexist.

Suddenly, a knock on the door.

Groaning, you got out of bed and headed for the door, checking who was there you were puzzled when you saw Loki there, dressed to the nines. Surely you didn't waste so much time, he must be early.

"Dear, are you okay there?" he called you.

"Yes, I'm fine- just a moment!" you tried to make yourself look presentable in a rush just so you could open the door to the dashing prince who was awaiting you.

You opened the door with a smile, which he returned.

You were used to acting like you were okay while your cramps were killing you from the inside but it seems like the god of lies could not be so easily fooled.

"Hi Loki, I was not expecting you this early." You laughed courtly, "And I was actually meaning to call- I'm not feeling so well today, I'm afraid I have to postpone our date tonight."

Loki walked into your apartment, kissing you on the cheek before pulling back to study you.

"I wanted to see you sooner, so here I am. But now that I am here- well tell me what is wrong, dearest?" he frowned when he saw you slightly clench your fists.

"Oh, I'm just not feeling well, I won't be good company and I won't be able to enjoy a lovely night with you I'm afraid."

"I'm a healer my love; you always seem to forget my magic," he smirked slightly causing you to laugh- which was not good right now for you.

"I remember your magic powers very well when you prank me." You countered. "But no, this is not something you need to worry about."

He reached out and took your hand with a small laugh. The door locked itself with a wave of his hand as he took you to the couch.

"I'm afraid you will have to do better than that to fool the god of lies." He took both of your hands in his and you were sure he could see your embarrassment with the way he was gazing into your eyes, "Now tell me, what is wrong?"

"You really don't need to- it's kind of embarrassing-" you started to mumble, lowering your head.

"I'm still here, aren't I? What kind of man will I be if I am not taking care of those I care about?"

You pulled your hands away from him, embarrassed as you mumbled something he couldn't quite put together.

"What was that?"

"I'm on my period." You closed your eyes- not wanting to see his disgusted look. "See, so you don't need to be here, I can take care of it myself and we can reschedule our date to a week from now."

It was not a problem to you- you knew the drill- but having to explain it to a clueless god felt humiliating to say the least.

"Is that all? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You opened your eyes to a puzzled god.

"Because it would make you uncomfortable," you replied, suspicious of his reaction.

"Why on Odin's beard would it make me uncomfortable?" He frowned at you and looked you over. He started peppering kisses on your hands.

"Because it is my period?" You knew he is a god, but maybe asgardians women didn't get that. "Here on earth, men tend to be disgusted by it, they don't like to get involved in it or talk about it."

He huffed out in surprised anger- that you did not expect. The god in front of you did not know how human males could be so awful.

"Well that is preposterous! Women are to be worshipped at those times!" you stared at him-he had always treated you differently, unlike anything you have seen on earth before. You knew Asgardian ways of manners were much old fashioned and yet so different all the same.

"Then tell me, how do asgardians see it?" you leaned on the back of the couch, facing Loki and pulling a blanket over you. You liked how safe he made you feel, but this still felt weird to you- you were not sure how to react- to what extent it goes. So, curiosity got the better of you, "because if I'm being honest, this is kind of embarrassing."

Loki sent you a smile with a twinkle in his eye.

"Darling there is nothing to be embarrassed of! You are naturally as powerful as a thunder storm, a tornado- lightning cowards before you and your power!" he was going to make sure you understand it, he had never been so baffled by humans before. "You hold the ability of life- eternal life- in every drop of blood that falls from you- from the most powerful being in all the realms. For a couple of days each month- you are being shown your true power even through your suffering- and in that time you, my dear, are more powerful than a god. You should be nothing but worshipped. That is what the gods of Asgard know it to be true."

"Do they really all think that?" you felt a sharp pain suddenly and Loki came closer to you, put his usually cold hand on your stomach and you felt comforting warmness ease your ache.

"They know it. The people of midgard knew it too at some point, but then some people who thought themselves gods- I think they called themselves Christians- decided that the bleeding was a show of witchcraft and called it a sin and spread many lies about it, which now I see are still believed to this day. You see, they were quite stupid." You laughed at the disgusted look he gave you, which in turn made him smile. "You know, I probably shouldn't tell you this but…"

"You never obey such rules." You laughed and put your hand over his one that was comforting you on your stomach.

"In one of Thor's travels he bathed in a river filled with the menstrual blood of the powerful Giantesses. That was to give him enlightenment and eternal life."

"Ew, did he actually do it?" you scrunched your nose and Loki kissed it.

"That is not disgusting- that was powerful and very well respected. When he came back, he was the smartest I have ever seen him."

"I hope he took a good bath after it…" you chuckled and smiled at him, "Thank you for this, the Asgardian way of thinking is way better than that of earth."

"Now, dear, while I do have a preferred way to help take away the pain-" you blushed under his gaze. "Tell me, what is it that you desire? Tell me, so I can worship you as I should."

You kissed him then and you knew right then when he kissed you back that the Asgardian men are way better.

•

Taglist: : @callmeluna @sstanbarnes @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes @easygoingtheatre @that-one-person @justab-eautifulmess @onceupona-happilyeverafter @wipplogg @supraveng @samwilsons-pillowpecs @ayybtch @kitkatd7 @chrissquares @make-me-imagine @jessalyn-jpeg

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folkwhorerain · 3 years

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy (Wanda Maximoff x fem reader)

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem reader

Summary: reader is a shy and insecure Avenger whit a crush on Wanda, but she never made the first move on the sokovian. What if, during a party, finally something happens between the two of them?

Warnings: angst, reader being insecure, language (I think?), alcohol and sexual tension (feel free to tell me if I should add more).

English is not my first language, so bare with my grammar please, lol. This is my first fanfiction ever so forgive me if it's not anything special or it is lame.

I got inspired by "Jealousy, Jealousy" by Olivia Rodrigo, so I suggest you listen to it while reading, if you want.♥️

You hated them. You hated Tony's parties.

Don't get me wrong, you enjoyed the Avengers company, but parties were definitely not your thing. You always felt... out of place.

You were fine with chatting with the team during this day when you spent some time together, but when parties where that huge like tonight's one, all you wanted to do was staying in your room.

The fact is that you can't help but compare yourself to the others. You never felt enough and you were intimated by Tony's friends and the other heroes. You were just... You. No one special with no cool superpowers, you were good at hand to hand combat and you were really smart, but that was it; you always thought that was lame. Like that wasn't enough, you were the newest recruit in the team. The Avengers all welcomed you well and you grew attached to all of them, especially Natasha, but still, you didn't feel like that was enough for you to be considered "the cool Avenger", and you were still private about your feelings and emotions; when something was wrong the only answer that you had when they asked you what bothered you was "it's nothing". But it wasn't nothing. You felt an outsider in the team, you felt like you weren't enough for them and the worst part is that you knew it was all in your head, but you couldn't help it.

The first person that always comes to your mind when you think of someone cool is Wanda. Her powers affascinates you and you loved her determination. You can't say you two are close, but she always treated you well and she respected your boundaries, that's why now you have a crush on her and that's part of the reason you didn't want to go to the party. Seeing her well dressed while smiling to people who weren't you and while Vision was trying to get her attention would only make it worse.

You considered staying in your room while scrolling your social media, not having any strength to get up and get ready, especially when you were still in your bathrobe and your thoughts were only about a certain witch. However you knew Natasha would've dragged you out of the room if you wouldn't come so, after a few curses and annoyed groans, you threw your phone on the pillow and started to get dressed.

You didn't want to get the attention to you, people would start a conversation and tonight you weren't into it at all, so you opted for a green skirt and a black, cropped sweater and a little bit of makeup. Nothing more.

I'm already so sick of this bullshit, you thought to yourself, then you took a deep breath and went downstairs.

–

As you expected, the biggest room of the Stark Tower was filled with people you didn't know, but you were sure they were mostly Tony's friends.

They were all so confident with their drinks in hands, perfect combed hair and fancy dresses worth millions of dollars.

You weren't nothing like these people: you didn't get why people would spend millions for pieces of cloth. It was a waste of money, but how you wished you saw it differently, maybe you would be one of these apparently happy people with a lot of friends, and not the weirdo of the group with a lack of confidence so evident you couldn't even enjoy a relaxing event.

A few tears tried to escape your eyes, but you wouldn't let them. Steve was watching you and, from the look he was giving you, he already sensed something was off with you; so you did what was best and faked a smile, which he returned gladly before he went back to his conversation with Bucky.

You felt like a creep standing in the corner of the room doing nothing, so you started looking around searching for Nat. After a few second you saw her talking, or better, flirting with Bruce at the bar while she had a Martini on her hand.

You frowned sympathetically. Cute. He really likes her a lot, you thought seeing Bruce embarrassed and intimidated by the widow.

Suddenly a waiter asked you if you wanted a glass of wine and you accepted, maybe a little alcohol would help you get through this more easily. You took a sip and enjoyed the feeling of the wine in your throat.

“This is ridiculous.” you whispered.

“What is ridiculous?” you heard someone ask you.

You turned to see who it was and that's when you saw her: Wanda was smiling at you with a curious expression on her face.

You blinked a few times, amazed by the girl in front of you: she was wearing a short, black dress, and her ginger hair was loose on her shoulders. She decided to put on a little bit of makeup and a red lipstick. Not like her typical style, but you liked her anyway. She was always so beautiful.

You shook your head, realizing she was waiting for an answer. "Uhm, parties, I guess.” She nodded. “I mean, Tony's events are always too exaggerated.” you added before biting your lips, clearly embarrassed.

“I know how you feel.” Wanda agreed. “I always have to try so hard to fit in during things like these.” She chuckled while looking around the room.

“Well, at least you're trying.” You said before giving her a dry laugh, looking down at your glass.

The ginger tilted her head sympathetically. “Well, maybe that's the problem.”

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... trying too hard is the problem.” She explained. “If you feel like you have to try so hard it becomes unbearable, maybe that means that the thing you're doing is not good for you.” She added before biting the inside of her cheek.

You simply hummed in agreement and took another sip of wine, too intimated by her beauty.

Don't think something awkward. She can read minds. Don't think how beautiful she is- shit. Stop thinking.

“If you'll excuse me, Vision is looking for me.” She said with a smirk on her face before leaving you alone again.

You watched her walk away, analizing her every move. God, how you wanted her to be yours. She was not, of course. Why would she be with someone like you? She could have Vision and every other man in this room, so why would she choose a girl like you? Speaking of the devil, Vision approached her with a few guys and she gave him her brightest smile.

You watched all the interaction, still in the corner of the room.

He was so confident with his perfect posture and his good manners. He would be the best for her. He's the kind of man, or synthezoid, or whatever, that could always reassure her and find the perfect words to make her feel better. He would try and cheer her up and find the better jokes to tell, just like he's probably doing right now. In fact the sokovian was laughing at something he said and her beautiful laugh echoed through the room.

You felt jealousy rush through your veins.

“I wanna be him so bad!”

All the people in the room turned to look at you with puzzled expression.

Your eyes went wide when you realized you practically yelled what you wanted was just a thought so, without a second thought, you rushed out of the party and went straight to your room.

You slammed the door and let the tears escape. You took off your make up and headed straight to bed, overthinking what just happened, screaming in your pillow.

I always ruin everything!

You didn't expect you would've said that out loud and right now you didn't expect to hear someone to knock on your door. You didn't answer, though, you kept your head buried in the pillow. It was probably Natasha who wanted to talk about what happened and you definitely weren't going to say a word.

The door opened anyway and you groaned in annoyance.

“Listen, Nat-” You started to say but stopped immediately when you saw it wasn't the russian spy, but Wanda.

“Hi.” She greeted you with a shy smile. “May I sit?” She asked pointing the bed.

You composed yourself and nodded shyly. “Yeah.”

Wanda gave you a swift smile and sat next to you, crossing her legs on the bed. Your breath itched when you felt your knees touching. You two have never been this close and the situation was making you nervous, thing that didn't go unnoticed by Wanda considering the fact that you were playing with the ring on your index finger.

You never noticed but Wanda knows you very well. She knows your moves, the way you play with your hands when you're nervous, the way your eyes shine when you talk about your interests or the way you are quieter than usual when you're sad.

The truth is that Wanda liked you very much and she knew you liked her too. She didn't want to tell you 'cause she wanted you to take courage and say it first and, to be fully honest, she was scared. What if your crush was temporary and you would eventually get bored? What if she loses you just like she lost her parents and Pietro? She would never, ever accept it.

“So... Why did you run away?” She asked like it wasn't obvious you just yelled in front of everyone.

“Are you seriously asking, Wanda?” You snapped before you could stop yourself.

She looked at you with sad eyes before looking down at her hands. “Sorry…”

“No, no... Don't apologize.” You whispered. “You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn't have… God, I'm pathetic.”

You threw your head in your hands and sighed. I'm so sick of myself!

“Why are you sick of yourself?” The sokovian asked you before placing a hand on your knee.

You looked at the hand and then at her.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have read your mind, but sometimes your thoughts are really loud.” she chuckled, starting to rub her thumb on your knee. You were speechless, all this interaction was making you crazy. You craved more of her touch and now, more than ever, you wanted to kiss her. However you pushed those feelings aways and started to open up to avoid thinking about something inappropriate. “I'm just… me. I mean, I'm not special.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked raising an eyebrow, her hand never leaving your skin.

You took a deep breath. “Wanda, come on! Tony's friends are so cool, he's loved by everyone, Natasha is a badass russian spy, you have these amazing superpower. Thor is literally a God, for fuck's sake!”

“You compare yourself to the others too much. It's not healthy, Y/N.” She sweetly stated wiping away a tear from you cheek.

You closed your eyes for a second, enjoying her touch, but then you came back to reality. “I know, but I can't help it. The others seem to be so confident and happy, and all the girls at the party... Fuck, they're so pretty-”

"Beauty is not your lack.” She interrupted you smirking, her hand still on your cheek.

“I- I just wish I was them... I wish I had the courage Vision has.” You admitted, looking down.

“Why him?” The ginger asked placing two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at her in those piercing green eyes.

“Because I'm so jealous he gets all your attentions and I don't just because I'm too insecure.” You said it in a whisper, almost inaudible, but Wanda heard you and you knew judging by the smile on her face.

“You want my attentions?” She asked leaning in.

Her face was so close to yours that it was hard to breathe. You could smell her perfume and that alone was making you want her more. You had the urge to kiss her and touch her and taste her, but right now Wanda was waiting for a response so you simply nodded, not trusting your voice.

“You already have them.” She admitted, making you frown in confusion. “There might be a hundred people in the room, but I would always notice you and only you, Y/n.” You were speechless, partly because of her confession, partly because she was so damn close to your face it made your heart race fast, and before you could realise, she kissed you.

Her lips were so soft against yours and her hands were in the right places. However, after a few moments, you realized you froze and didn't reproached the kiss. Wanda broke the kiss, a disappointed look on her face.

“I'm sorry, I thought you liked me t-”

Before she could finish her sentence, you kissed her. You kissed her with so much confidence it surprised both you and Wanda.

Your right hand was on her neck and the other was on her waist, pulling her close.

You felt her smirk on the kiss and the hand that before was on your knee now was up your thigh.

“God, this skirt was making me crazy the whole night.” She breathed out, making the hand go higher and higher where you needed it the most.

Before you could realize you still had your party outfit on, Wanda started caressing slowly your inner thigh, making you gasp. Hearing the affect she had on you, the ginger bite your lobe before whispering something that made you shiver.

“Let me show you all the attentions I have for you, babygirl.”

alright, that was it. I know it's not good, but I had this idea the other night and I just had to write it.

Feedback is appreciated. <3

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #marvel #mcu x reader #tony stark #natasha romanoff #black widow #thor odinson #steve rogers #marvel cinematic universe #comics #wandavision #Vision #paul bettany

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gaitwae · 3 years

Note

Could you write a fic where Loki and female reader switch bodies and have to stay like that until someone figures how to turn them back?

Comment/reblog!

Tag List: @make-me-imagine @bwemph @myraiswack @rorybutnotgilmore @loki-snape-our-hero @wolfish-trickster @lucywrites02 @mostly-marvel-musings @winterfrostsarmy @superheroesandstardust @castiels-majestic-wings @geekns @natandersonnla @cozy-the-overlord @megthemewlingquim @whatafuckingdumbass @thebookbakery @delightfulheartdream @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @the-emo-asgardian @itscomplicatedx @sophlubbwriting @darkacademicfrom2021 @lilyofthesword @xlehukax @electroma89 @joucebox @high-functioning-lokipath @lokislittlesigyn @kingix-the-confused-earthling @nilavey @superfangirl-romanogers @funsized-mimi

Warnings: A disgusting amount of fluff.

“Oh, for the last time, darling! You shouldn’t be messing with spells you don’t know the first thing of,” Loki scoffed behind you, making you jump and snap his spellbook shut. It was an odd thing to remember that Loki even had a spellbook, but you had to learn new spells somewhere, right? You were just a simple mortal, and you had no use for things like magic on Midgard.

Or so he told you.

“I mean, yeah, but what’s it to you?” you mumbled, turning around to face him. “I wanted to go over a new spell with you, if that was okay.” You put your hands together in front of you and smiled up at your friend. You tried for your best smile, which ultimately caused him to cave.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Alright. But is it within the range we spoke of? What we just went over? I don’t want you to overwhelm yourself so soon in your learning. Some messes just don’t clean as well as the others do.” He put his nose in the air as if he was remembering just how uncleanable past messes had been. He took your hands. “Let’s do the spell. Hurry. I haven’t got all day and I truly don’t want to be stuck in some kind of situation we can’t sort out ourselves.”

“It sounds like you’re noncommittal,” you teased, reciting the spell you had just read out of the spellbook not even seconds before Loki opened the door and walked in on you.

“I can be plenty committed. Just not to your self-destructive need to be a sorcerer,” he said airily, speaking through the incantation; he didn’t even comment on it.

If he had even heard it.

When you finished the rest of your incantation, the spell started to take hold. You became woozy, and so did Loki. You crashed into his arms, and he collapsed on the floor with you in his embrace. He smelled like mint and some kind of harsh cologne, but it fitted him. It was the last piece of consciousness you could hold onto before you awoke...

+-+--

“Hey, Lokes, are you awake? Hellloooo?” Tony’s voice came. It sounded far away. You stretched, and you could still pick up that cologne from where you laid. It was less intense than you thought it would be from hardly smelling it at all. You opened your eyes.

“Where am I?” you asked, and funnily enough, so did Loki. Odd choice of words.

“Stark!” someone called. You sat up to see who the person was, but your blood ran cold at the sight. “Stark, what happened? What has been done to me!? Where is—?”

They stopped as well. There you were, your face, your voice, but... not you. You looked down at your hands. They weren’t yours. Your heart dropped significantly.

“How’s this even possible?” you asked, hearing Loki’s voice once again. “Am I—? Did we—?”

“Don’t do anything!” your voice came again, but littered with Loki’s speech pattern. “If you stain that Asgardian leather, I’ll—I’ll—”

“Oh, you’ll what?” you scoffed, standing. “I don’t even know how this happened! I’m surprised you haven’t started running your hands all over me!”

“Oh, please, we’re friends first,” you—Loki—mocked. Tony was staring at the two of you like you were talking about the finest boots to eat. He lifted a finger, but Loki raised a hand to stop him from even trying to speak. “It appears you’ve gotten us into a mess we cannot fix, haven’t you?”

“Will someone else have to change us back?” you asked. You stood, managed to walk over to Loki, and sat down. “I didn’t mean for us to... to...”

“Swapped,” Loki sighed. “We’re swapped. Either it’ll go away on its own or we’ll have to go to Asgard to convince my father to reverse us. How in the Nine did you find such a spell? It shouldn’t even be in the books!”

“Should I leave you two alone, then?” Tony asked. “Since, uh, you’re both acting extremely weird?”

“Yes,” you and Loki chorused. You crossed your arms and Loki mimicked you. Stark left quickly, leaving you two alone in the medical room, where only a blink ago you had been in a completely different room with Loki in his own body and you in yours.

Once he had shut the door, you watched your own body twist with Loki’s mannerisms and expressions. They turned to you and pushed your chest. You scoffed, gasping. “How could you even experiment with such a spell?!” they shouted. “We might be stuck like this forever! You made me mortal!”

“I wanted to swap our perspectives,” you admitted, gulping, “but I didn’t think it would lead to this!”

“What else could it have meant?!” Loki scolded. They put their hands in the air, then dropped them. They began pacing. “I’m stuck in your body! I may have wanted to hold it, but I certainly didn’t want to have it!”

You bit your lip. “I didn’t want to have your body, either,” you mumbled. “I just wanted you to see how I look at you... I had thought...”

“Thought what? That suddenly I would fall for you? You’re out of luck there, mortal. It wouldn’t have gone the way you wanted it to,” Loki sighed, shaking their head. They sat on the cot where they had awakened from the spell.

“I didn’t know you knew,” you said meekly. You looked down at your hands. Your heart was racing. It didn’t usually race when you spoke to Loki. The hands that had become yours, hopefully for a short period of time, were long and pale and so different from yours.

“How could I not, little mort—Y/N?” they asked. “It’s almost like watching someone sink into a depression; everyone can see it, but no one talks about it. I know you have feelings for me. I don’t blame you, though.”

“You don’t feel the same, do you?” you asked, sitting down on your cot. Loki shrugged.

“I didn’t say that. I said I wouldn’t fall for you by seeing myself the way you do.” Loki picked at your nails. “Y/N, we shouldn’t be talking about this now, we should be finding a way to get out of each other’s bodies.”

You huffed a sigh. “We should ask Strange. He knows insane magic, and I doubt if I use your powers anything will change. I already botched this spell.” You laughed but stopped when you heard what it was. It wasn’t your laugh. It was odd. Laughter was determined by one’s body, so it made sense that it wouldn’t have been yours...

“Oh! Brilliant idea!” Loki praised falsely. Clearly, they must have still been upset about the swapping bodies thing.

You were disappointed in yourself for it, too. “Can we just go and see him? It’ll take no time at all.”

“He isn’t even home," they sighed, wiping their face with your hand. It was hard to watch. "Why must you be so perfect? Being so adorably shy that you cannot even ask me if I love you back?"

Your heart thumped. No, no. Loki's heart thumped for you. "...Don't mock me while you're in my body. I can still hurt you."

Loki narrowed their eyes. "You wouldn't."

"I so would!" you announced, crossing your arms and jutting your hip out.

"Hurting me goes against loving me, doesn't it?" Loki asked, slightly panicky. "You couldn't draw my blood, could you?"

"I won't draw blood," you promised. "I just have your daggers on my person, and I've never really cared for this stupid Asgardian leather..."

"This is going to be a long time waiting for Strange to be back, isn't it?" Loki groaned. You nodded happily. You scooped your own body to his body's chest.

"Oh, yeah. Swapped, for better or for worse."

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki mcu #mcu loki #marvel #mcu #gait writes #gaitwae writes #loki x you #wasn't sure how to use pronouns when swapped #interesting request!#my love rose7420

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bucky-hues · 3 years

Text

bucky barnes fic recs

here are some bucky fics i loved reading!

many of these are 18+ and there are some dark fics in here, so please read the warnings for each fic! if any of the writers i’ve included want anything removed/edited, please let me know!

one shots

jack pendleton | @roger-that-cap

author!bucky x reader

moving into an apartment to get away from your last relationship was fun all fun and games until you met your extremely attractive across-the-hall neighbor, who makes awesome cookies and even better novels.

grip | @pellucid-constellations

bucky x reader

You knew Bucky didn’t like his arm. You just didn’t know how much until he accidentally hurt you with it.

voicemails to an unmanned inbox | @pellucid-constellations

bucky x reader

When Bucky takes an argument a little too far, you take off. All he wants is for you to come back home.

can’t get the words out | @pellucid-constellations

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky’s been awfully distant lately. You don’t think your heart can take what you know he’s about to say.

his everything | @likeahorribledream

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky has trouble talking about his feelings and he ends up pushing away the one person he needs the most.

eavesdrop | @bestofbucky

bucky x avenger!reader

things spies don't notice | @starrysebastians

bucky x avenger!reader

don't you worry (your pretty little head) | @babyboibucky

guitarist!bucky x reader

You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.

suburbia | @wkemeup

bucky x avenger!reader

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

sparklin' eyes | @19ana45

roommate!bucky x reader

Prompt: Character A’s current boyfriend/girlfriend/partner mocks Character B for their crush on their best friend, [A]. [B], feeling humiliated, withdraws from the friendship with [A], who is completely oblivious [B] has feelings for them.

reoccurring face | @swtbbybarnes

bucky x reader

he’s been around a lot lately, sometimes multiple times a day, and you’re starting to wonder how much coffee one man can actually drink.

falling for you | @comfortbucky

roommate!bucky

moving on | @bucky-bucket-barnes

bucky x reader

After Bucky had been missing for a year, you had presumed him dead. Time passed, yet you seemed unable to move on from his death. That was until a familiar face came to your doorstep one winter night.

bucky bitchass barnes to the rescue | @bucky-bucket-barnes

bucky x avenger!reader

In an attempt to escape from hectic life as an Avenger, you decided to go out on a date. Unfortunately, you got stood up. While Bucky hates you, he hates seeing you embarrassed more and decides to fill in for your M.I.A. date.

pansies, pain, and other things about bucky | @bucky-bucket-barnes

bucky x avenger!reader

You and Bucky are begrudgingly paired on a mission together. This is less than ideal considering neither of you are too keen on the other tagging along. All goes as normal until a surprise attack severely hurts both of you. Feeling incredibly guilty, Bucky helps you tend to your wounds. He has trouble admitting it, but he wants to make sure you’re safe.

the lost converse | @firefly-in-darkness

bucky x reader

Last nights party was a bit of a mad one, what do you do when you wake up in someone else’s bed?

nervous | @dailyreverie

bucky x reader

A nervous Bucky introduces you to his fellow Avengers during game night

fever | @dailyreverie

bucky x reader

a little old fashioned | @gogolucky13

bucky x reader

Bucky is a bit subtle in telling you he likes you.

sweetart | @onlyjamesbarnes

soft!bucky x baker!reader

your best friend bucky tries to stay platonic with you, letting you live out your dreams, but his instincts soon get the better of him.

the things you've done | @divine-mistake

bucky x reader

what if the world ended tomorrow and all he did was spend his last day with you thinking about how you never hold his metal hand and you never walk on his left side and you constantly reach out for his right arm?

do you still love me? | @thatfangirl42

bucky x reader

2:00am | @thatfangirl42

bucky x avenger!reader

miscommunications | @empyreanwritings

bucky x avenger!reader

cookies, kisses, and such | @sweetbucky

neighbour!bucky

pretending | @multifandomwriter

bucky x reader

Bucky notices you at a party and is instantly attracted to you. Steve instantly notices the lovestruck look in his eyes, but also his nerves that are stopping him from talking to you. So Steve plays on Bucky’s jealousy to get him to make a move.

good together | @irndad

bucky barnes x avenger!reader

bucky and his girlfriend are in secret, and they think they are absolutely perfect for each other. literally everyone else in the compound thinks bucky and nat are made for each other.

l-o-v-e | @irndad

college!bucky x reader

college!bucky meets reader in a library and it’s all downhill from there. He’s desperately in love and pining and it’s all ridiculous and he doesn’t think she could like him back.

tell me the truth | @bwhitewolfbarnes

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky finds himself overhearing your conversation with his younger self, and he hates the way it makes him ache. He needs to know what is real.

the staring contest | @jobean12-blog

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky has a staring/glaring problem and you can’t figure out why!

lavender | @wkemeup

bucky x reader

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know.

little lion man | @wkemeup

bucky x avenger!reader

Sent on an assignment back to 1943, you encounter a drastically different version of the man you know

purgatory | @wkemeup

bucky x avenger!reader

While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.

i love you, you idiot | @chrisevansjellybeans

bucky x reader

all the good things | @houseravenclaws

bucky x avenger!reader

bucky’s been more than a little happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.

tap | @houseravenclaws

bucky x avenger!reader

bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.

shaking | @clintbartonswife

bucky x avengers!reader

after you get injured on a mission, the usually stoic Bucky breaks, and you see a side to him that he’s kept hidden ever since his acceptance into the Avengers.

deserving | @hanoella

bucky x healer!reader

When someone bad mouths Bucky in your presence, you set things straight.

keep me cool | @chouettedubois

bucky x avenger!reader

You and Bucky are on your third undercover mission acting as a couple. Things go awry when you fall ill. Cue caretaker!Bucky to the rescue.

on, off and repeat | @avasparks

neighbour!bucky x reader

i wished on the moon for you | @sunmoonandbucky

bucky x reader

After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you’re the first in line.

the hottest avenger | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x avenger!reader

Being locked together with Sam and Bucky brings the worst out of you, picking on each other constantly. Following an arguement Bucky accidentally calls you his girlfriend in front of Sam when your relationship was supposed to be a secret.

hey daddy | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x avenger!reader

You join Peter and his friends for a game of Truth Or Dare but you wish you stayed in your room when MJ challenges you to do a task that will definitely out your secret relationship with Bucky.

crash course | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x reader

Bucky is a regular at the café where you work at and seeing him struggling with technology, you offer to help him, teaching him the basics while you are both thinking about taking it a little further than just a crash course.

little things | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x avenger!reader

missed chances | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky is about to ask out the reader, but right before she could answer him her ex calls her up and she answers happily as she always wanted a second chance with said ex

truth or dare? | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x avenger!reader

the experiment | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x reader

make believe on christmas eve | @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

bucky x reader

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

sick day | @nastybuckybarnes

bucky x avenger!reader

you tell a little white lie to escape Avenging for a day, and Bucky finds out. He’s hurt and upset, until he finds out your reason why.

spies and secrets | @barnesandco

bucky x reader

Bucky buys a new jacket that is… uncharacteristically bright. Sam ribs him for it, and you- you don’t know what to do with yourself.

the bar rules | @buckyhoney (18+)

bartender!bucky x reader

the family lunch | @buckyhoney (18+)

dad'sbestfriend!bucky x reader

forbidden fruit | @bucksfucks (18+)

dad'sbestfriend!bucky x reader

you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.

mr. brightside | @bucksfucks (18+)

ex'sdad!bucky x reader

the one where you fuck your ex's dad

left gasping for air | @bucksfucks (18+)

bucky x reader

doused with sex pollen, you & bucky are met with a difficult decision.

love me harder | @celestialbarnes (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

you and bucky have been flirting and screwing around for months now, after seeing him getting frisky with someone else, you decide to do the same and bucky’s just about had enough.

sweeter than sugar | @angrythingstarlight (18+)

chubbybaker!bucky x reader

look my way | @sableseb (18+)

neighbour!bucky x reader

boyfriend upgrade | @multifandomwriter (18+)

roommate!bucky x reader

You have always been close with your roommate, Bucky, but tensions start to rise when your boyfriend begins to stay over at your apartment. You feel like you’re drifting apart until Bucky accidentally sees you almost naked.

lure | @bccky (18+) dark

bucky x reader

it’s all about the perfect lure

plan | @sergeantxrogers (18+)

bucky x reader

“I was supposed to forget about you, and you were supposed to forget about me, but damn it if I could ever forget about you because since the day I saw you, you never left my mind and you were all I thought about,” he rambled, focusing on anything his eyes could land on that wasn’t you. “You’re… you’re still all I think about,” he whispered, voice tired and beaten, like the very sentence had been waiting in his throat for years just to get a chance to come out into the open.

play pretend | @wkemeup (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help.

you’re mine | @marveicinematics (18+)

bucky x reader

Having a secret relationship with a man as insecure and complex as James Buchanan Barnes may not have been the best idea you had, but one thing was certain: you knew how to make him feel better about the things that bothered him.

white lies and truth serum | @mariessecretfantasies (18+) dark

dark!bucky x avenger!reader

You and Bucky share a dance, a few too many drinks, and a night in bed together. Unfortunately, he neglects to tell you that he can’t get drunk.

bitter fruit | @divine-mistake (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

“The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”

“Because you were going to die.”

always here | @simsadventures (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

You have an obvious crush on Bucky, and kind of hope he feels the same. But when you overhear agents talking about you, and then even Bucky, you realise there is no hope for you. At least you think there isn’t.

your captain | @onlyjamesbarnes (18+)

dark!bucky x reader, husband!steve x reader

a perfect anniversary night gets interrupted by his best friend, who happens to be your boss.

series/multi-chap

graveyard , sacrifice | @wkemeup

bucky x healer!reader

As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too.

sunrise | @wkemeup (18+)

veteran!bucky x librarian!reader

After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you.

TiMER | @xbuchananbarnes (ongoing) (18+)

bartender!bucky x reader (soulmate au)

“If a clock could count down to the exact moment you’ll meet your soulmate, would you want to know?”

the match | @babyboibucky (ongoing) (18+)

ceo!bucky x reader

You come across your boss’ Tinder profile.

the holiday hack | @gogolucky13

bucky x reader (modern au)

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

sexual healing , medicine | @gogolucky13 (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

You ask a touch-starved Bucky if he wants to try something new in an attempt to take your minds off work.

vacant mirrors | @whirlybirbs (18+)

bucky x reader

shit's been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes. set before tfatws; a friends-to-lovers, slowburn, eventual smut.

salvatore | @nsfwsebbie (18+) dark

dark!bucky x reader

Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

polyonymous | @bubblebuckys

bucky x reader (social media au)

You met James on Twitter three months ago, and you’ve talked everyday since. You really like him, and you don’t think you’ve met anyone like him. That is, until the fateful night that brings the Avengers to you. You meet Bucky Barnes, and then you’re stuck choosing between two guys so alike you find yourself asking why they couldn’t be the same person.

going live , offline | @ritesofreverie (18+)

camboy!bucky x reader

your new neighbour looks so familiar, where had you seen him before?

heavy metal lover | @mypoisonedvine (ongoing) (18+)

sub!bucky x dominatrix!reader

working as a dominatrix is never exactly easy, but a new client brings challenges you never expected.

fake boyfriend real orgasms | @bucksfucks (ongoing) (18+)

roommate!bucky x reader

when bucky needs a date to sam’s wedding, he makes a deal with you. when it starts to turn into something a little more real, you realize how deep you’re in.

almost had me believing it | @tuiccim (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes’ wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

it's brooklyn, baby | @my-divine-death (ongoing) (18+)

college!bucky x reader

hush 1 2 | @starbuckie (ongoing)

bucky x reader

in quiet corners and selfish moments, y/n and bucky have kept their relationship a secret, one love that was pure and untouched by the darkness that surrounded them. but after bucky is able to walk the streets a free man once again, will their love be able to survive?

misconceptions | @firefly-in-darkness (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky Barnes overhears a conversation that he shouldn’t have…

what a night | @jurassicbarnes

bucky x reader

Bucky Barnes is out in the new world, navigating through everyday life and it’s trials and tribulations. His therapist insists he tries new things. He has collected a few new hobbies. But when it comes to making new acquaintances, what’s a better way to meet new people than a little dating site called Tinder.

hey, professor | @balenciagabucky (ongoing) (18+) dark

professor!bucky x reader

professor barnes always had his eye on you, you noticed it, your girlfriend noticed it, even his friends and after one raunchy photo sent to him, a joke, nothing more, in his world you become more than just a student

missing piece 1 2 3 4 | @likeahorribledream

bucky x avenger!reader

seeing red | @mypoisonedvine (18+)

bodyguard!bucky x actress!reader

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

flight risk , no control | @wkemeup

bucky barnes x avenger!reader

Bucky becomes a flight risk after a failed mission and is put in lockup under Steve’s orders. Even though Bucky won’t say a word of what happened, you camp outside the door to his cell so he knows he isn’t alone.

bad match | @justreadingfics (18+)

bucky x reader

Bucky and the Reader are set up on a date, but things don’t go as well as expected.

unbroken | @constantwriter85 (18+)

bucky x hacker!reader

Bucky isn’t happy about being paired with a snarky, untested hacker on a stealth mission to infiltrate Hammer Industries. But when the mission spirals out of control and they’re both captured, he finds out just how much heart his hacker has–and how far she’s willing to go to protect the lives of others.

if i only had a heart 1 2 | @chouettedubois (18+)

bucky x reader

Team Cap is back at the compound after being pardoned. Bucky is suffering from the shoddy work HYDRA did with his prosthetic. Tony brings reader in to fix it—and maybe help him find his heart in the process.

text me | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x reader

Tony and the other’s are off on a mission, and it’s up to you to help Bucky get comfortable and assimilate into normal life. He texts you because Tony told him he could.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #fic rec

279 notes · View notes

differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

Show Me [Part 2/2]

Summary: Spencer finds out his girlfriend’s a virgin. But she wants him to change that.

A/N: This is Part 2 of an anon request. I was shocked by the response to Part 1, and I’m so excited for you guys to read this one! (I also set up an 18+ sideblog @spenciebabie if you wanna check that out)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Mostly smut, and a lil fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, oral (female receiving), fingering, masturbation (female), penetrative sex, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed

Word count: 4.1k

Request: “Omg I’ve just found your account, you’re an amazing writer! If you’re taking requests, could you write something with virgin!reader and like season 13/14 Spencer?”

Masterlist

Read Part 1 Here

He’s booked a hotel room. A nice one. A really nice one.

They spent the whole week hoping that they wouldn’t get pulled away on a case. Just counting down the days until the weekend hit and they could finally release all of the pent up tension that had been building in each of them.

Of course she was still nervous, but the good kind of nervous. The kind that made you giddy more than it made you worried. Since she’d opened up to Spencer he’d been nothing but kind and supportive. It sort of made her want to sleep with him even more than ever, but he insisted that they wait, he wanted it to be special.

And now that she had time to prepare, she did all the things she thought you were supposed to do before having sex. She got waxed for the first time, and it hurt. It hurt way more than she was willing to admit. She bought lingerie. She had no idea what Spencer’s taste was when it came to things like that, but she did what Spencer would do and she made an educated guess. She knew that he liked it when she wore dresses, he would always compliment her when she wore pale colors. He said she looked pretty in everything, but especially in white.

So she picked out a set that was white, with lots of intricate little lace details. No one warned her that lingerie was so expensive, but Spencer was paying for a hotel room, so she figured she could spring for some pretty underwear. It wasn’t just for him, when she tried it on in the dressing room she knew she couldn’t leave without it. Something about the lace and the way it hugged her body just made her feel amazing.

Not that Spencer would’ve minded if she’d done none of that. He’d still find her sexy if she turned up in sweatpants and a t-shirt with stains on it. She was perfect to him. Which is why they didn’t want to jump into it right away. Where was the sense of occasion in that?

Instead Spencer had planned out the evening, he’d pick her up from her apartment, and they’d drive to the hotel, drop their bags, then head out for dinner. When they returned to the room that evening, then they’d have sex.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that it didn’t sound so sexy when he gave her a regimented list of activities like that. But she knew he just wanted her to have the best possible time, and she trusted him. As always.

And she was right to trust him, but Spencer had been losing his mind about that all week. Stressed that he was going to be a let down. She’d never been with anyone else before and what if he was underwhelming? What if it was the worst first time anyone ever had? He knew the statistics, how few women cum their first time, how few cum from penetration alone. And in spite of himself he was determined. Determined to make this the best it could possibly be for her.

She was perfect, and she deserved no less than perfection.

He thought about filling their hotel room with roses, so many that you’d hardly be able to see the room. Or maybe just rose petals, scattered along the bed and the floor. Would candles be too much?

Instead he stopped himself, and he kept it simple. He bought a bouquet of roses before he went to pick her up. When he showed up at her door, flowers in hand she wasn’t quite ready to leave yet. Her hair and make-up were pristine, but she was still in sweatpants and an oversized jumper.

“Are we staying in tonight? I could’ve sworn we had plans?” he jokes, stepping inside and handing her the flowers.

“Haha, very funny. I just need 10 minutes to change.” she swats his arm, “Aren't you a walking cliche, a dozen red roses?” she admires the bouquet, bringing her nose to them to take in the sweet scent.

“Nope” he says with confidence, “Only 10. While red roses signify love and romance, the number of roses given actually carries it’s own significance.” he explains, “And the message that 10 roses sends is, ‘you’re perfect’, which you are”. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he says it. He feels so sappy but from the way she looks up at him he can tell she’s just as sappy.

“You’re too much” she says, and pulls him in for a short kiss, “Will you put these in some water for me while I get dressed?” she asks, and he wants to tell her not to bother, they should ditch the plan and he’ll just scoop her up into his arms right now and take her on her bed. But he just about manages to stop himself.

When she emerges from her room again she’s in the sweetest little dress. It’s white, and the bodice hugs her while the skirt fans out once it hits her waist. She looks like a fucking princess. He loved her, he loved that this was what made her feel confident, and sexy. And he can’t escape the little gasp that falls from his lips. She just giggles at him.

“Close your mouth” she teases.

“No way, come here” he reaches out for her and settles his hands on her waist, pulling her in close and pressing their lips together, slow and deliberate. Taking his time to taste her, making sure she can feel exactly how excited he is to be with her. It takes longer than it should but she has to press her hands on his chest and push him away gently to break the kiss.

“If you keep kissing me like that we’re not gonna make it out of my living room” she says, and it’s supposed to be a joke but they both seem to know it’s only just shy of the truth.

— —

The hotel’s not far from either of their apartments, but it feels like a completely different planet. It’s expensive looking, and it’s such a stark contrast to all of the motels they have to stay in across the country.

The bed is plush, and high off the ground with crisp white sheets. And even if they weren’t planning on having sex in it, they’d still be excited to sleep in it. As they enter the room Spencer drops their bags while Y/N all but sprints over to the bed, throwing her body onto it with such force that she bounces back up off it just a little.

Spencer laughs at her, and her giddy excitement. There was still a nervous energy present in her, but nothing like before. There was no worry, no uncertainty.

He can’t help but admire her, the way she’s spread out on the bed, her hair fanned out around her like a halo, her dress spread out, blending into the white of the sheets as she giggled, her chest rising and falling with her deep breaths.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he says, walking over to the bed, standing so that he’s looking down on her. She just shakes her head from side to side.

“That’s you” she turns it back on him and he smiles. He leans down over her bracing his hands on either side of her head as he leans down to kiss her. Her own hands move up to cradle his face, holding it gently as their lips move against one another. When they break apart she’s just looking up at him adoring.

“How did I get so lucky?” she asks this time, and his heart just about explodes in his chest. He leans in again, kissing her with a little more force than last time. Climbing onto the bed instead of hovering over it so that he can be closer to her, feel more of her pressed up against him than just her lips.

He moves so that they’re both on the mattress, so that he can wrap an arm around her waist and pull her so tight against him while they kiss. He uses his other hand to roam around her body, down her shoulder, trailing delicately along her arm. Along the curve of her waist, gripping her hip just a little when he passes it. He uses that hand to slowly pull up the skirt of her dress. Not with an intentions, just so that he can have a hand on her bare skin. Resting so gently on her thigh so that he can feel the goosebumps that he leaves behind.

That’s one of the things he loves most about her, just how responsive she is. It never takes very long before she’s gasping and moaning beneath him, even if his hands are gentle. And that’s exactly how they end up. With her writhing beneath him, tiny moans passing from her mouth into his as his fingers dig into the skin of her thighs. Hiking up her dress, further and further until he could see her panties. Just like that evening on his couch.

“Spence?” she moans out as his hands creep further and further inside of her thighs. He pauses for a moment to look down at her, to check in.

“Are you okay?” he rasps, his breathing shaky, and she nods quickly, putting him at ease instantly.

“I just— could we— can we do it now?” she’s looking up at him completely doe-eyed, her hands draped lazily around his neck, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation. And all he wants in the world is to say yes. Fuck it, yes of course, anything she wanted. But he couldn’t.

They’d waited this long, what was another few hours. Besides, they had reservations, he didn’t want to have to rush anything to make it to the restaurant in time. He wanted to give her all of the attention she deserved. So he shook his head.

“Nope” he says, telling himself as much as her, “We’ve got dinner in 30”

She pouts immediately, and he wants to give in right away but he pulls himself back, removing his hands from her thighs, and freeing himself from her soft grip. She pouts even more as he stands up off the bed completely.

“You’re really gonna leave me like this?” she asks, more brazen than usual, sitting up on her elbows a little so that she can see him as he walks across the room.

“I don’t want to start something I can’t finish” he jokes, but she doesn’t look impressed.

“You already did” she counters, his eyes darting to her exposed white panties between her legs, but he shakes his head again.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, you better start getting ready for dinner” he points at her as though he’s trying to be stern, but they both knew he was wrapped around her finger.

She’s got absolutely no intention of using this time to get ready. Instead she reclines back in the bed, resting her head amongst the pillows, and she takes up right where Spencer left off. Pulling her skirt up and tucking her fingers into the waistband of her panties to find herself soaking wet. She trails her fingers between her folds, her lips softly parting to let out a small moan at the overall feeling that was building in her already.

She can’t help but cry out just a little as she sinks one of her fingers inside of herself, burying it as deep as it will go and curving it up to hit that spot she knows so well. By the time she’s added a second finger Spencer’s back in her line of sight. And he looks like he’s almost frozen in place when their eyes lock.

“Y/N” he just gasps, so small, she’s mentioned that she was the only other person who'd touched her like that, but for some reason he’d never thought to picture it. And thank god he hadn’t, it wouldn’t have held a candle to this.

“You started it,’’ she whines, “so I’m finishing it” her chest it heaving as she takes in long, labored breaths, her back arching up off the bed as her fingers continue to move inside of her panties. When it looks like she might just be about to cum her intervenes, sitting next to her on the bed and grabbing her wrist softly.

“Let me” he breathes, and she lets him pull her hand out of her panties. Instead of leaving it down by her side he brings it up towards him. Taking the two fingers that had just been inside of her and sucking them into his mouth. His soft lips sealing around them. She didn’t even know what to say.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long” he says once he lets the digits out of his mouth, and she's not only speechless, but she’s breathless now too.

With that he repositions himself on the bed so that he’s lying in-between her legs. He pulls at the sides of her panties and slides them down her legs so that she’s exposed to him. Now that he’d gotten a taste of her he was desperate for more.

Reaching further up under the skirt of her dress so that he could rest his hands on her hips, he uses the leverage to pull her a little closer. So that his face is right up against her centre. He places lingering delicate kisses all along the inside of her right thigh, and then her left. Agonizingly slow, teasing his way closer and closer to where she wanted him.

Once he’s run out of spots to kiss he’s finally at her core, and he introduces his tongue in one tentative lick right through her folds, tasting her even better now. Thankfully he’s got her hips pinned down with his hands or else they’d have sprung up off the bed.

“Fuck” she moans already, and that’s a good sign.

“Do you like that?” he asks, not playful or teasing, just genuine.

“So, so much” she affirms, and he dives right back in.

His tongue swiping between her folds, just grazing her clit every once in a while so that he could feel the way she squirmed beneath him. When he wraps his lips around her clit and begins to suck, with just the lightest pressure, she’s moaning so loud they’re probably going to get a noise complaint.

“Oh god, oh god” she starts to whine, “I think I’m close” she manages to force out. So he takes that as his queue to release his grip on one of her hips so that he can slowly push one of his long fingers deep inside of her. The stimulation from it, coupled with his lips in between her legs is enough to kill her she thinks.

Before she can think about it she’s cumming around him, on him, her hands fisting the sheets for any kind of purchase. Unable to control the moans the ripped through her.

When Spencer reappears from beneath her skirt a moment later his lips and chin are glistening, and there’s a dopey smile on his face, so she can do nothing else but pull him down on top of her for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. She wonders for a second if this turned Spencer on as much as it turned her on.

“Spencer” she breathes once they’ve broken apart, “that was amazing.”

“Yeah?” he looks at her, and delighted is the only word to describe his expression.

“Yeah” she tells him and he doesn’t miss a beat before he's on her again, diving in and placing feverish kisses all along her neck, down her collar bone, right to the cleavage that’s just exposed at the neckline of her dress. He starts to pull down the straps on her shoulders, doing anything he can to get it off her without having to move from his position, so perfectly situated on top of her.

“Spencer” she giggles, pulling his face up out of her chest, “What ever happened to dinner?

“We’re already 9 minutes late” he just laughs, “fuck dinner” and he dives back in. And she can’t fight him on that one. He’s sick of working around the fabric of her dress so he sits up the the bed and pulls her up with him.

“We’ve gotta get this off” he says, frantically searching for the zipper, and she wants to laugh at his eagerness, and she would, if she weren’t just as excited to be undressed. She has to help him find the zipper at her side so that he can slide it down. The dress goes slack around her just enough that he can pull it off over her head.

And now she’s just lying down in front of him in nothing but a bra and he thinks he might pass out. It’s a pretty one, white, and lacy, with a little satin bow in-between the cups. It’s so gorgeous against her skin that he almost wishes he hadn’t taken her panties off earlier. So that he could properly admire the whole set.

“I like this” he bites his lip, “I like it a lot” she doesn’t have to ask ‘what’ he’s looking so unashamedly at her breasts that she can’t mistake it.

“I bought it for you” she gazes up at him. And it makes this heart melt, she’d bought it for him, for him to see, to touch, to admire, to remove. “Can we take off your clothes now?” she asks then, and he feels stupid that they’re still on. He was so caught up in looking at her he’d almost forgotten he was even there. So he moves quickly, hopping up for a moment to rid himself of his clothes.

Once he’s in front of her in nothing but his boxers she starts to feel nervous again. She’s seen his cock before, she’s held it, tasted it, but this time was different. This time it was going to be inside of her. What if he didn’t like it, what if she was bad at all of this and he hated it.

He takes them off so that she can see just how hard he is, flushed and leaking, so excited to be with her. And it should feel reassuring, but it just feels like pressure. Pressure to be good.

Once he’s hovering over her again, his mouth working against hers as his hands work to unclasp her bra he can feel the hesitation in her kiss, in her touch. So he stops, and he pulls back.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” he says, his voice laced with equal parts love and concern.

She thinks for a moment before she speaks, “I just don’t want it to be bad for you” she whispers, like she’s embarrassed. And he can do nothing to contain the shock that spreads across his features.

“It could never be!” he rushes out, “This could be the worst sex of all time, and it would still be the best sex of my life, because it’s with you”

She softens immediately, he always knew exactly what to say to put her at ease. To comfort her so completely. So she pulls him back down to connect their lips once again. This time with the passion that she usually did, no apprehension, no worry.

And they stay like that for a few more minutes, him on top of her, their mouths moving against one another. With her bra on the floor his hands caressed and squeezed her bare breasts, fingers gently teasing her nipples in a way that made her gasp.

He has to climb off of her to get a condom from his bag, and for the brief moment that his warmth is gone she misses it more than she ever thought possible. When he returns to the bed, foil wrapper in hand she’s excited. This was it.

“Can I—” she starts, “can I put it on?” she asks sheepishly. And honestly he’s confused, but he hands her the wrapper anyway. She rips open the foil and pulls out the condom. Holding it in one hand as she grips his cock with the other, pumping it gently, softly gliding up and down the length a few times. She leans down into his lap for just a moment and licks up the underside of it, leaving an ever so slight kiss at the tip where it was leaking. Then she starts to slide the condom down his length, all the way down, so, so, slowly until it was at the base. No one had ever put a condom on him but himself, and he had no idea it could’ve been that hot the whole time.

He pulls her in for an appreciative kiss, pushing her back down on the bed so that he was on top of her once again.

“Can you, um— can you be on top?” she asks, biting her lip and looking up at him.

“Of course, whatever you want.” he whispers, “You’ve got to tell me if you don’t like something, or if you’re in pain, or not comfortable, or if you just want me to stop for any reason. Okay?” he asks, so sincere, and so full of love. And she’s so unbelievably happy that she waited for Spencer.

“It’s usually more comfortable and enjoyable if the woman has already cum once during the session, so you should be relaxed, but I’ll go slow.” she nods up at him.

“I’m ready” she sucks in a deep breath and pulls him in by his neck to kiss him, her lips open on his right away as she delves her tongue into his mouth. The taste of her arousal still lingering on his tongue. He pushes in while their mouths are still connected and he can feel her short gasp against his lips. She lets out a small wince at the sensation and it breaks his heart just a little.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?”

“No, no! It just takes a little getting used to, you can keep going” she reassures him. And it does hurt a little, but it’s more like pressure. A pressure she hadn’t felt before. He pushes further in, and further in, and further in, until he’s completely inside of her, as deep as he can go. He moves so slowly so that she can take her time getting used to the feeling.

And if he was honest with himself he needed time to adjust too. She was so tight and warm around him, and whenever he’s still he can feel her clench around his length. He’d forgotten just how good this felt. Or maybe it had never felt quite this good before.

He keeps still inside of her, leaning down to litter her neck with kisses. Giving her time, she seemed to be enjoying it a little more now, biting her lip as she looks up at him.

“That feels so good Spencer” she moans out, her fingernails digging into his back as he raises up to look at her, “Does it feel good for you?” she says, and he almost can’t believe she’d even have to ask.

“It feels perfect. You feel perfect, so tight and wet” he lowers down so he can moan it right into her ear and that does something to her.

“I think you can start moving now?” she says

“Are you sure?” he asks and she nods, enthusiastic. And so he starts to move, slow and deliberate, long deep thrusts in and out of her. It doesn’t take long before she really seems to like it, adjusting to the feeling faster than she thought she would. Her legs come up to wrap around him, heels digging into his back to pull him close.

And they’re both moaning in tandem this time, moving together, breathing in sync, becoming one whole in every sense of the word. When she started to squirm beneath him, her hands gripping at his shoulders, his neck, wherever she could, he almost couldn't believe it. She was close.

So he put one hand on the headboard to steady himself and slipped the other down, skimming it along her torso before settling it right in-between her thighs. Circling her clit with his finger, faster and faster to match the speed of his thrusts as he tried to continue pumping in and out of her.

“Spencer, I think I’m—” she moans out, breathless and perfect, “Ah fuck! Right there!”

“That’s it baby” he hums, comforting and reassuring, his hands and his cock continuing their movements, working her closer and closer, “Cum for me.”

A second later she’s writhing beneath him, her back arching up off the bed, her nails digging so hard into his back that it hurt. “Fuck! Spencer!” she cries out as he works her through her high. It only takes another moment or two before he’s there himself, releasing inside of her, and the feeling is indescribable.

He pulls out of her slowly, taking care not to hurt her, when he’s sure she looks comfortable he allows himself to finally lay down on top of her. Collapsing softly, and resting his head on her bare chest.

On instinct she moves her hands to his hair, it’s just a little sweaty but she combs her fingers through it anyway. He was so beautiful.

“That was—” she wants to tell him, but she’s got no words, none that would do it any justice.

“Just the beginning.” he finishes for her.

— —

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

hold onto me (im a little unsteady) - sokka x reader

i was listening to the song when i came up w this so feel free to listen to that if you want

summary: a late night with sokka reminds you that even on the worst days, you always have someone in your corner.

a/n: lmao this is 100% self indulgent i have no excuses. my parents are getting divorced and almost every time they're together they argue and so this is just a comfort fic after it happened again tonight bc GD i wish i had a sokka. this one goes out to all my divorce babies or people with parents that never stop arguing. you are very loved<3

wc: 1.7k, this got away from me lol

warning(s): mentions of parents arguing n shit, like the tiniest mentions of implying sex and problems with consent (in general, not with them), but this is all fluff

hey. i know you’re probably asleep right now but could you come over?

It was far too late at night when you sent the text. A question asked on a whim, an offer that would most likely go ignored due to the boy on the other end being asleep.

But goddammit, you really didn’t care. Even if he didn’t respond, just hitting ‘send’ made you feel slightly better. You had already taken refuge in one of the sweatshirts he had left at your house (read: one that you had stolen and refused to give back) and as your eyes fell on the glow of the digital clock on your bedside table, you were once again reminded of how stupid this was.

But you heard the telltale buzz of a notification and all but lunged for your phone, an uncontrollable smile tugging on your lips. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him.

sokka💙: you know i never sleep babe

sokka💙: a curse of my genius

sokka💙: im omw

you’re the best thank you love<3

A pair of fuzzy socks and a refilled water bottle later, you heard the sound of something hitting your window. Though you tensed up at first, a roll of your eyes was all it took before you remembered just who you had invited over. Another smile took over as you pushed yourself off of your bed, pushing the curtains aside in time to see another pebble hit the pane.

A physical effort took place to stifle the laugh as you pushed your window up, and you leaned against the sill on your elbows to get a better look at your ridiculous boyfriend.

“Throwing rocks at my window? I think I’m stuck in a bad romcom.”

He grinned and let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “It’s what’s to be expected from your Prince Charming, right? Besides, I’m assuming that your parents wouldn’t just let me walk through the front door at this hour.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Just the sight of Sokka was always enough to make you feel better, and tonight was no exception. The vice on your heart was already starting to loosen. “Right as usual. Think you’ll catch me if I jump?”

He laughed and made a show of looking up and down the distance and then at his arms. “I’d like to say so, but I think we’d have better luck if I climb up.”

“You sure you can do that, big guy?” you asked with a teasing grin. He rolled his eyes with the same sentiment.

“Of course I can. I just thank nature that there’s a tree so close to your window. It’s saved me from a lot of embarrassing falls.”

You chuckled and backed away from the window, the slight chill from the night air beginning to get to you. “I’ll leave you to it while I get things ready.”

Truth be told, your room was a total mess at the moment. You knew Sokka wouldn’t care, especially not now, but it put you slightly more at ease to have something in your life that you could control. You were in the middle of shoving some previously strewn-about clothes into your closet when you heard the click of your window closing. When you turned around, you were met with your boyfriend’s smiling face.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured as you walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you kissed him lightly on the lips, unable to stop the blossoming smile nor the warmth that the action gave you. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” The softness of his words were in stark contrast to the joking bravado from only minutes earlier, and as you stepped away from his embrace and pushed yourself onto your bed, he joined you on the other side. “And not that I’m not happy to be here, but I just wanna know. What’s going on?”

You sighed, letting one leg hang off the bed as you tucked the other in. It was a testament to Sokka’s power how quickly he had gotten you to forget about the new mess of the night. “The usual showing of fuckall and fuckup. I’m more impressed by how they never run out of things to scream at each other about.”

Your bad joke didn’t get a laugh out of him, which you were secretly glad for. Instead, he snaked an arm around your back and tugged you closer, a contented sigh falling from your lips as you nestled your head into the space between his shoulder and his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

The phrase had gone in one ear and out the other more times than you could count from your parents, but each time Sokka said it, the words held a different weight. You knew it wasn’t your fault in the first place, but guilt didn’t care all that much for logic. You knew he meant it though, and once more the vice loosened.

“I know. But it still helps to hear it.” You glanced up at him, reaching a hand up to twist a loose strand of his hair around your finger. “You should wear your hair down more often,” you mused. “It makes you look like a prince.”

He chuckled, amusement glinting through his ocean eyes. “I did say I was your Prince Charming, didn’t I?”

You smiled, slowly uncurling his hair from your finger. “Yeah.”

“That means I’ll always be there for you. Especially to save my royal from their evil stepparents.”

Another laugh bubbled in your chest at that, and you leaned closer into him. “Thank you. The more I visit your place, the more I want your family to be mine. Hakoda is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met, and your mom? She actually makes me want to cry with how sweet she is. I think I know where you get it from.”

He grinned and bumped your leg with his own. “You know you’re welcome over there any time. But maybe you shouldn’t — I think my mom might actually adopt you with how much she loves you. That… that would be really weird.”

His joy was infectious as you planted another kiss on his cheek, something that earned you a, as you liked to call it, dazzling Signature Sokka Smile. “I’ll make sure she holds off on the adoption papers for now.”

“I’d like that.”

And though the happiness you felt at the moment was almost overwhelming, that was just what caused that tiny sliver of doubt to come in. When people invited their partners over at three in the morning, it usually wasn’t to sit on the bed and talk about their problems. It was… it was for more, and you didn’t want that right now. And because you were an expert at it, you decided to put your foot in your mouth and start talking.

“I— I’m sorry that I called you over here so late, for no reason. I know you probably expected something else than me ranting, but…” you sighed, drawing your knees closer to your chest as you brought your other hand to Sokka’s resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

He sighed at that, but you knew it wasn’t one of disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. I don’t care if you just want to sit in silence for the next five hours while we stare at the wall, or if you want to watch sappy rom coms until your eyes bleed. I’m more than okay with staying like this. I didn’t come over here because I expected anything from you — I came over here because you needed me, and so I’m here.” Sokka smiled, an image you didn’t think would ever stop making you melt, and intertwined your hand with his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

You were so stunned at the brazen declaration that your voice got stuck in your throat for a moment, holding back tears. (Happy tears. They were never anything other than happy tears with Sokka.) It hit you then that you didn’t really know what it was like having someone get close to you without an ulterior motive.

“Thank you,” you murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You knew he was smiling, even without having to look up at him. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the kiss he pressed to your hairline.

A comfortable silence hung in the air for a long time until you broke it. “You know… my dad kinda ran off to a motel for the night after this whole thing, and my mom leaves early in the morning. If you were serious about those rom coms…” You allowed the unsaid question of staying the night to fester so Sokka knew he could say no if he wanted to, but he didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course I was serious. I mean, I’ve gotta get the ideas for our future wedding from somewhere.”

You laughed, a sentiment that had occurred more times in the ten minutes he had been here than the past week, and picked the remote for your little box TV off of your bedside table. You clicked through various movies until you found one Sokka liked, and then you cuddled deeper into his side to prepare for the ride you had ahead of you.

Thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, he had fallen asleep, arm still around you and one of his legs slightly intertwined with one of your own. But it’s not like you minded — the familiar weight of Sokka in your bed had caused all your worries to melt away, if only for the night.

You didn’t expect him to last past the first movie, but you were sure you would at least get through until Katherine Heigl got the man. But there was an overwhelming feeling of safety permeating the air with Sokka’s arms around you, and you ended up knocked out before she could even get through all twenty seven dresses.

It wasn’t lost on you how fortunate you were — he didn’t expect anything like that from you, he just wanted you to be safe. He was there for you. You would never understand how you had gotten so lucky with your boyfriend, but you would never stop being grateful for him.

this is the most self indulgent thing ive ever written and i am NOT sorry

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mcu1shots · 3 years

Note

could you please make me a tony xplus size reader story and getting proposed to but telling him no because she's insecure about her body and him seeing it? it would mean alot im in a dark spot right now.

Of course! Here you go, I hope you enjoy and feel better soon!

Notes/Warnings: insecurity, self doubt, mentions of being a playboy, implications of body negativity, fluff, angst, Plus Sized!Reader

Word Count: 2,351

Nothing More Perfect (Tony Stark x Reader)

Of all the things you had heard about Tony Stark you had never imagined him to be quite the way that he was. He had always presented himself as the playboy billionaire, hosting large parties and being seen with many women. It was always all over the front page of every gossip magazine who Tony’s woman of the week was, it almost had become a game at one point of which celebrity or model would be the next one to fall to his charms. But everything changed a short time ago after the attack on New York.

Everyone had seen how Tony flew directly into the portal that led to… well, perhaps only the man himself knew the answer to that. Ever since then he had become… different. Parties hosted in his honour were still as rowdy as ever, but the inventor himself was barely there for a few minutes, enough time to enjoy a couple of the drinks being served, before he disappeared for the evening. Gossip columnists no doubt mourned for the stories that they used to have from him, for no longer did he have his classic ‘woman of the week’ but he was barely seen to be forming connections with anyone. That is, until someone sent in a picture of Tony with a woman.

That woman was you. It had been around two years ago now when the press found out about you, and all it had taken was someone’s untimely photo of him kissing you goodnight in the hallway of your apartment complex. Before that you had always been very careful not to tell anyone but your close friends about your relationship but, Tony being Tony, insisted that he had to kiss you one last time before your night together ended. And who were you to try to resist that?

The gossip columnists, no doubt bitter from the stories that they had been starved from for so long, had a field day writing about you and Tony, you found paparazzi at your work and it was hard to escape the articles. You remember Tony clearly telling you “everything they’re saying is just for the story” as he urged you to never pick up a magazine or read a single article, even going as far as to suggest blocking results from anything that would come up on your computer or phone.

And for a while you were successful in ignoring anything that the press said about you. You listened to Tony’s suggestion and turned a blind eye to any article about your boyfriend just in case it mentioned you in any way. You were struggling enough with self image without the words of journalists all fighting to get the most clicks on a story, Tony was helping you through everything and you didn’t want to jeopardize that in any way.

Things went well after that, you ignored anything that you saw about you and Tony’s relationship. And since the press already knew about you, you were free to have a normal relationship. Well, as normal as it could be when you’re dating a famous billionaire and superhero. Anytime you did something in public there was the risk of the press writing about it, but Tony’s nonchalance about the entire affair rubbed off on you and you allowed yourself to turn a blind eye.

Well, most of the time.

Sometimes, when Tony was away and you were left to your own devices for a while, it was hard not to go on social media and glance at the headlines that were advertised all over your feed, some of the articles seemed kinder than others, and some just seemed to be going for that dramatic effect. Those were the hardest ones to see, those were the ones that unraveled all of the work you had put into loving yourself. And you tried not to read them, you really did, but sometimes you weren’t all that successful.

Tonight was one of those nights, Tony had some Avengers meeting and would be away for a few days. He had invited you to come with him but you had declined, you always felt out of place in those meetings, surrounded by heroes more perfect than you could ever be. Captain America was genetically modified for perfection, Black Widow was trained from infancy to reach that level of perfection, and Tony had built himself into a perfect hero with his iron man suit. It was hard not to feel self conscious around all of that.

Though perhaps you should have gone with him, as you sat in the bedroom you and Tony shared at his Malibu estate. The window was open, allowing the warm night breeze to flow through. It was a beautiful evening, you should have been outside enjoying yourself, perhaps sitting on the beach and watching the stars, but instead you were sitting on the bed looking at your laptop, staring at one of the not-so-nice articles that had popped up on your screen. You hadn’t even clicked into it, but the title and thumbnail was enough to fill you with a wave of insecurity.

You had to force yourself to tear your eyes away from it and put the device on the edge of the bed. You swung your legs off of the side and stood, stretching out your arms and allowing a deep sigh to escape from your lungs. You should have taken his advice to block out those articles from appearing, but it was too late for that now. You rubbed a hand along your face, feeling more emotionally tired than anything else, and decided you needed some water and a bit of a walk around the house to clear your mind.

So that’s exactly what you did, after shaking out your legs which had started to fall asleep from how you had positioned yourself on the bed, you headed downstairs to get some lemon water from the kitchen. However you were confused when you heard the soft sound of music coming from the living room. Wondering if you had forgotten to turn something off, you changed your path and headed there instead.

And there was Tony, a piece of paper in his left hand and a small box in the other. He seemed to be reading over a speech of some kind which was unusual to you as you had never known him to actually prepare a speech in advance, usually able to come up with something magnificent on the spot, even with cameras and microphones pointed at him. His eyeline raised and caught on you as you stood at the edge of the room and he quickly shoved the paper into his pocket and got on one knee, opening the box.

“Y/N,” he paused to remember the words he had just been rereading for what felt like the hundredth time, and yet seeing you illuminated by the dim lighting of the moon and the stars that filtered in through the large windows, he forgot it all. “I had a whole speech prepared for this, of how I love you so much and all of that sappy stuff. But, it all boils down to the question of… will you marry me?”

You were stunned into silence as you watched him, the seconds seemed to tick by as he waited for your response, a grin still placed upon his face. But you weren’t in the best mindset right now, the image of that headline and thumbnail plastered in your mind. What were you supposed to say? You knew what he wanted you to say, he wouldn’t have asked the question if he wanted you to decline, but how could you say yes? How could you ever be good enough for the Tony Stark?

Your silence and stillness was broken as you took a step back, shaking your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word ‘no’ but by the way the inventor’s face fell you knew he got the message. “I’m sorry, Tony…”

You turned on your heels and rushed back up the stairs, unable to look at him any longer. Unable to offer him an explanation as you weren’t sure you could even get the words out. Tears rolled down your face as your mind was flooded with thoughts you hadn’t dared to allow for a long time. But your insecurity was like a bucket of water, catching drips of self doubt. That bucket had slowly been filling up over the past two years but the last drop that had been placed by that stupid article was what caused it to overflow, your tears were only proof of that.

Tony had to admit that wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting from you, not in the slightest. He had been expecting tears, of course, but one of joy as you proclaimed that you loved him too and would be delighted to marry him. He shoved the box into his pocket and followed after you, he would accept your denial of his proposal but he couldn’t leave you to be upset on your own, what kind of man would that make him?

He followed you up to the bedroom that you both shared but you had locked yourself in the ensuite bathroom before he could stop you. “Y/N, hey, come on, love, talk to me,” he begged, knocking on the door. But he received no response from you. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, trying to think of if he had done something wrong. Then he saw it, the laptop still placed on the bottom of the bed, screen glowing in the darkness of the room. He paused, looking at the door and considering what he should do. But he figured that you wouldn’t be opening it any time soon and so he stepped away to see what you were looking at. Immediately he knew why you were so upset, seeing the headline and the image plastered across the width of your screen, a pop-up ad for one of those gossip companies that existed only in the depths of the internet. He knew about your struggles with confidence and self worth, and he was able to use his genius mind to put two and two together.

He closed the tab on the screen and then closed the laptop, not wanting you to see that again. He walked over to the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Y/N, my love, I know what the world says about you sometimes, how cruel they can be,” he began, resting his hand against the door, his face inches away from it and his eyes closed. “But as I close my eyes and I think of perfection, all I see is you, every part of you, no exceptions. My entire career I’ve tried to make something perfect but never would I be able to make anything that could compare to the perfection of you. We don’t have to get married, but please, please, come out here so I can hold you. I love you, Y/N, all of you. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

There was a pause, that agonizing silence as Tony tried to figure out if you believed him or if you could even hear him, there was a chance you were tuning him out and he truly was just talking to a door. But then he heard the click of the lock and stepped back as the door opened to reveal his beauty.

“How can you say that, Tony?” You asked, your voice shaking as you wiped tears from your face, your eyes were red from crying and you sniffled.

Tony lay his hand on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb and smiling softly at you, it was the kind of smile that seemed to be reserved for you and only you. It wasn’t some cocky grin or a smartass smirk, it was just… Tony. “Because I mean it, my love. Because, whatever I do, I will never find or make anything as perfect as you.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes, finding yourself unable to look at him, unable to face him. A shaking sigh fell past your lips as you exhaled and tried to think of how to articulate your thoughts to him. “The rest of the world doesn’t seem to agree with you, Stark,” you pointed out in a quiet tone.

Tony chuckled and stepped towards you, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead. “Maybe not, but I do pride myself on being the smartest man in the world. They don’t call me a genius for nothing, you know.”

And there he was, the Tony that you knew so well. The confidence that he had in himself, that he had in you. And a smile slowly came onto your lips and you nodded a bit at his words. “Then… yes.” You told him, opening your eyes to look up at him.

For a moment he looked confused, an eyebrow raised. “Yes?” He repeated, asking for clarification on what exactly you were agreeing to.

“I’ll marry you, Tony Stark,” you said, leaning into the warmth of his hand and reaching out with your own to hold his free one, giving it a gentle squeeze.

And his smile grew, one that was bright and warm and reserved only for the two of you at that moment. “See what I mean? Perfect. I love you, Y/N Stark.” He said, tilting up your face and pressing a soft, chaste kiss onto your lips.

“I love you too, Tony Y/L/N.” You countered as you looked up at him, your red eyes now filled with love and happiness instead of doubt and despair.

Tony chuckled at your response. “Touché.”

You simply nodded and pulled him closer. “Now, kiss me properly this time?” You asked sweetly, pulling him close to you.

A grin passed his face and he nodded, leaning towards you. Before your lips met in a kiss he spoke, keeping his tone soft and his warm breath fanned across your face, “As you wish, my perfect fiancée.”

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