#he’s mumbling the words to it every time he’s bored enough to zone out to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

k1ngpin42 · 2 months

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𝙰𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚛 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗 & 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 (𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ;)

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (giving & receiving) s3x, fingering, handj0b, soft & rough Arthur, gentlemen Arthur, V!rgin reader

Notes: I know you guys voted Sub Abby, ✌𝓢𝓤𝓑 𝓐𝓑𝓑𝓨 ✌ WILL BE POSTED NEXT I had been working on this Red Dead project a while ago so I hope you don’t take it too negatively. Thanks for all the support I’ve had so far, it means a lot that people can enjoy my work (even if it’s mostly smut.)

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Notorious outlaw Arthur Morgan, who has been forced into a tight, high end tux in a crammed, high end place hates everything about this party Dutch made him attend. That is until he meets a fancy woman, (you) who isn’t as dull as he originally suspected.

PLEASE NOTE: there’s no fluid 1850s language used so don’t be upset if there’s some modern slang or anything I’m just writing cause I’m bored.

Some Y/N is mentioned, I try to avoid Y/N at all costs but there was no way around it this time, I’m sorry guys but it’s only a few times so dw.

The mission was practically a laughing matter- being that the guest of honour was a drug lord and that Arthur and the others were all outlaws who wouldn’t know which utensil to use at dinner to save their life, which glass to drink from or their name, how to feel normal in a suit, how to not steal every beautiful piece of decor they encountered and how to even speak with all these…well-read, well off folk.

The mission itself seemed simple enough. Talk to the governor, make a good impression and snoop around. Having to give the doormen their weapons was just another reminder of how far out of his comfort zone he was.

When the champagne was offered Arthur immediately took a glass, looking over the porch and subtly acknowledging Dutch beside him. Bronte greets them warmly and starts pointing out and mocking some of the party guests, including Mayor Henri Lemiux, Alberto Fussar, Hobart Crawley and his wife Brenda. Once the group seperate, Arthur makes his way to the main floor.

“Okay…” Arthur mumbled to himself, grimly. “Mingle…” He looks around the crowd. There are people dancing, talking, making out of course, He doesn’t know where to go first. That is until he hears you talking to some man.

“You…flatter me.” You tell him, clearly lying. “However I am…reserving my dance for another…” You say, quickly. Arthur turns to face you and see’s the most beautiful gown he’s ever seen. It’s a white corset that extends down into an ocean of subtle ruffles. The material looks stiff and the bottom has specks of gold.

The man in question is overweight and if he was being honest, smelt rank. He felt sorry for you, whoever you were, he had suspected you were dragged to this thing too, fancy dress and all.

“I don’t see him.” The man said, putting his arms around your hips. You carefully remove them and he grabs your arm tightly.

“Where you goin’ princess?” He says, and something in Arthur almost snaps, he wants to snap. He knows he can’t make a scene so he walks behind you, whispering in your ear. His warm breath and the unexpectedness of it all initially makes you flinch, but ANYONE would be better than this slag. You had seen him get handsy with almost every female employee here and on the streets you had heard him getting creepy with fucking children. Thankfully it hadn’t escalated, at least so far.

“You alright miss?” Arthur questions in your ear. You turn over to look at him. He’s tall and awful handsome, not like any men you had seen at the party so far. He had gorgeous eyes of Atlantic blue and his hair was…almost perfect. It looked like whatever product he used was far from his regular style as the parting was all over the place, but his jawline and minimal facial hair tied the look together.

“Uh…here he is.” You said, stunned at your own words. He looks at you icily. “Uh….That’s not-“

“Who is that? I ain’t seen him before.” The man yells at you, completely ignoring Arthurs existence. Arthur sighs.

“I’m her…partner….tonight anyway.” You nod.

“Exactly, and I owe him a dance so if you don’t mind.”

“Fuck you, how would your daddy react to you dancing with some nameless stranger?” The man groans at you. You roll your eyes.

“Go hang.” You say, quietly, but Arthur still hears it and his eyes widen, impressed.

“He gon’ hear about it from me just you wait”

“Looking forward to it.” You tell him, and the man goes off somewhere. You let out a groan, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

“I am so sorry Mr…?”

“Uh...that’s not important. And you’re welcome. Who was that?” He asks. You sigh.

“Not important.” You grab his hands and start swirling around and his face flushes red.

“Miss I…ain’t much of a dancer.”

“Well it would be a damn waste not to dance after that little facade.” He looks at you, a little confused, but nods.

“What brings you here anyway?” You ask, his large hand on your waist, the other in your gloved palm. Arthur can’t help but smile, still taking in your figure.

“My friends and I were invited by Bronte, he’s a guest here.”

“I see. So you’re here to make impressions?

“Or some such thing.” He replies, still blushing like an idiot. You talk for a little while, swaying to the music, talking about everything and nothing as if he’s the most trustworthy person out there.

“I hate going to these things.” You tell him, a little worried you had ruined the weirdly peaceful atmosphere the two of you had been experiencing. He nods, watching you intently while still trying to maintain rhythm.

“You look like a million bucks. I would have assumed you were made for these things.” He stumbles.

His lack of fluidness when talking was weirdly attractive, it brought a sense of comfort which you rarely felt, especially with his accent.

“In a way I was made for it…these parties are my life whether I like it or not.”

“I couldn’t imagine it.” Arthur blurts out, and you look up at him with curiosity.

“I knew you weren’t a noble.” You say with a grin. He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Why? Do I smell like poor folk?” You laugh at his comment.

“No, no the camp smell is…luxurious.” “I’ll have you know I bathed before I came here.” He replied defensively, causing you to laugh more. This banter went on until he spotted Lemieux.

“Excuse me.” He says, not even waiting for the dance to end before approaching your father. The mayor's butler, Pierre appears and tells Lemieux that he received a phone call from Leviticus Cornwall. Another man with greasy black hair overhears this and has Arthur follow Pierre to find out about it.

Being as cautious as you can, you slip through and follow Arthur to see what he’s doing. You watch him follow Pierre into an office and enter it once Pierre leaves. Arthur starts trying to unlock the door when you come in.

“So you’re not just not a noble, you’re a thief.” You remark, causing him to spin his head around to face you.

“Miss…” He tries. You roll your eyes.

“Save it. What are you even looking for?”

“Look, this is all just a misunderstanding, I’m sure if you just let me go, we can both forget this ever happened, I’ll be on my way and you can go back to your life of parties.” He tries, lowering the document in his hand.

You walk over to him, leaning over his shoulder to see the document.

“Wow.” You say, unimpressed. He looks at you guiltily.

“Look, I’m sorry miss, you seem real nice and I meant no disrespect by coming here and…acting all decent, I’m just doing what I’m told.” He tries, his voice sounding like a plead at this point.

“Mmm, what Dutch Van Der Linde told you to do, right? He was that man with the excessive hair pomade and the…vests. I’ve heard about him.”

“What?? You know of me??” Arthur demanded. You put a soft, gloved hand to his mouth.

“Shhh, do you know how much trouble we would be in if we were discovered in here? I had suspected you were an outlaw but the only one I recognised was Dutch and Bronte.” Arthur isn’t paying attention to your words so much as he is the warm hand on his mouth.

“Who are you?” He asks. You shake your head.

“What are you going to do with the papers?”

“Look, it isn’t really business for a lady to-“ You glare at him and he fumbles his words again.

“Not to say a lady can’t…my meaning is-“

“So a robbery?” You interrupt, unimpressed by his long winded explanation. He sighs.

“St Denis is a big city…it don’t need quite so many vaults in that bank they have secured up real nice.” He says. You roll your eyes,

“You can not be that foolish. Doing any sort of crime in St Denis is suicide unless you have a bullet proof escape plan and I’m sorry but I smelt your bullshit from a mile away.”

“You have quite the tongue for a lady.”

“And you are just…something else for a gentlemen.” You retort.

All of a sudden you hear the jittering of keys at the door and you and Arthur exchange a look of panic.

“Oh Jesus.” Arthur mutters and you roll your eyes.

“Swearing isn’t helping, outlaw. Try that window.”

“I have a name-“

“Then say it.”

“It-“ He groans, wondering how the fuck he got into this situation and why he was involving himself with a random woman. A beautiful and intelligent one at that, one who definitely challenged him in a way he enjoyed, but also one who was getting in the fucking way.

“It’s Arthur…” He pauses, turning to look at you when he reaches the window. “Morgan.” He adds.

The window won’t open and so you shove the document back into the draw and lean Arthur against the window, pressing your mouth against his aggressively. He was clearly shocked, and who wouldn’t be? But still, almost like an instinct, his lips parted and his tongue moved skillfully through your mouth. Henry Lemieux walks in an audibly gasps.

“Y/N Lemieux what the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry father I…let me explain.” Arthurs ears burn at this. Father??

“You listen here little girl, I have told you NEVER to go in here. What’s gotten into you? And on such a significant night with some stranger??”

“My rooms always guarded and I just wanted some privacy. Arthur and I have been seeing each other for some time but I knew I couldn’t take him here. I’m sorry I let you down this is just the only place I knew there wouldn’t be workers.”

He sighs. “I understand there are a lot of rules in this household that may make you…may make it feel like there’s not as much freedom as ideal but it’s to protect you! You need to be more careful with strangers.” He yells, walking over to Arthur.

“Mmm, Bronte invited you I take? I don’t know you otherwise and I know anyone who’s anyone, meaning there’s no way you’re good enough for my daughter. Did you try and take her honour? Is that it?”

“We were just talking, that was our first kiss father honest it was.” Arthur puts his hands up innocently, nodding at your comment. Henry lets out an annoyed gush of air..

“I want you both out of here, we will discuss your punishment later, my daughter.” You nod and drag him to your room, waving at the guards there to fuck off. They stare at you blankly.

“Men are not allowed I-“

“My father just allowed it, but if you don’t trust me, you can go bother him in his study, I’m sure he’d be thrilled.” You tell one of them, annoyed. He nods and the guards head downstairs. You close the door and Arthur is just looking at you, wide eyed. He turns to the door and you sigh.

“I’m…not allowed locks.” You explain. He doesn’t say anything.

“So…” You say. He angrily paces around the room.

“What the fuck…what the fuck??”

“Calm down Mr Morgan.” You say, unphased. He glares a you.

“Calm down?? I did more than just fuck up. I exposed my whole fucking plan to the governors daughter just because she was a pretty face I- fuck, this was a bad plan.” Arthur mumbled to himself. You smile slightly.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I got to go…” He says, reaching towards the door. You walk in front of it.

“Why?” You ask, plainly.

“What?”

“Why do you have to go?” You question, He walks closer to you, his eyes darting around the room nervously.

“Well you’re just gonna tell your dad won’t ya?”

“Oh yeah cause I just lied for fun Mr Morgan that’s a real bright comment.”

“Well why else would you do it? You don’t know me.”

“You’re an outlaw. Slightly naive, perhaps, but you, hair pomade and whoever else is in your group, you do anything you can for family. Even utterly foolish things such as breaking into the governments office and robbing the most secure bank in this country. I’m not going to inform my father. I can respect what you were…trying but if you try that whole St Denis thing, you can rest assured you will be walking into your own damn funeral.”

“Well what else would you suggest then, miss?? In case you haven’t noticed, men like me don’t get good paying jobs, unless it’s for folk like you who would never hire us.”

“Trains, small stores, homesteads…” You pause. “boats.”

He raises an eyebrow.

‘You’re encouraging I steal, my lady?” You practically snort at his comment.

“In essence. People ‘like me’ don’t REALLY need those gold emerald earrings or platinum laced watches. It’s less stealing than it is…balance.” You say, matter-of-factly. He can’t deny how impressed and surprised he is by you. A government daughter, gorgeous, smart, fancy as hell but most importantly you didn’t hate him, and that meant more to him than words could measure.

“The grand Korrigan holds high end poker games. It’s easier than you’d think to sneak on, I’ve done it myself, it’s in Lemoyne.”

“W- I’m sorry, you snuck on to the grand Kerrigan….in lemoyne?”

“I heard my father talk about it. I was bored.”

“Why would you help me? I mean isn’t it against your father in some way?”

“How I see it, you were going to do this anyway, I’m not helping at all, simply telling you where it is so that you don’t go kill yourself at the bank. If I were to…accompany you, then perhaps I wouldn’t feel inclined to tell my father you were in there to steal copies of the deed my father was going to sign.”

“Okay woah, slow down my lady-“

“You really don’t have to call me that…”

“I really do. Now listen, there is no way we’re getting involved with the governers daughter, I’m sorry that you get bored dressing up like a doll 3 times a day and having guards around you but that’s no excuse to go commit crimes…”

“I won’t be committing them, you will.”

“Still, I don’t want to be liable for you.”

“Wow…romantic.” You say, sarcastically. He sighs.

“That’s not what I mean it’s just….the answer is no.”

“I’ve snuck on before, I know heaps of ways to sneak in and out of this city as well several others. When you can’t leave town there’s nothing else to do but learn about everyone else’s business. I guarantee I could get you into anywhere. Plus I cn protect myself, I’ve been trained in combat since I was 14.”

“But why?” He asks. But he doesn’t need to. He knows the answer. He felt it when you guys first touched and again when you first kissed. He felt it now knowing you’ve seen through him and didn’t want to look away. You weren’t frightened or repulsed and neither one of you wanted to part each other. It was unexplainable. You barely knew each other.

“I can’t keep letting my life slip away in this meaningless existence. I want adventure, love I don’t know…I know I’m stupid for think-“

“Don’t talk about yourself like that sweetheart” Arthur says, putting a hand on your face.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He says, dragging his thumb over your lip and making it part slightly. You nod.

“It would be reckless…we would be naive to think we won’t get caught.” You breathe out. He nods.

“We would probably…” Arthur paused, his accent thick in your ears. “get as far as the gate before everything goes sideways, not to mention the gang would never accept you.” You nod back.

“exactly.”

“Exactly.” He says, putting his other hand on your face and kissing you deeply.

———————————Smut——————————————

You can taste residue of the sweet, bubbly champagne he had drank only moments earlier mixed with the metallic taste of his being. Having someones tongue in your mouth and particularly a man who was anything but inexperienced was unusual to say the least, but a feeling you welcomed as he eagerly explored and savoured your taste now too.

You walk back with your arms still wrapped around his neck, kissing him roughly. You flinch slightly when you bump into the end of your bed. You hesitate for a moment, looking into his pretty eyes again before internally making a decision and climbing onto your bed. He tilts his head, admiring you fondly.

“Now Miss, I don’t think we should rush this, you’re a woman. To be…I don’t know…cared for or somethin’. Me? I’m a bad man.” Arthur hesitates. “A rough man.” He corrects.

“It’s okay Morgan, I’m not a little girl, I can handle it.” He walks away from the bed and paces for a while. You decide to reassure him with more than just words this time and remove your shoes, then you start working on the lace at the back of your dress. Arthur sighs, knowing he won’t be able to avoid all the things he’ll do to you. He’s a good man, somewhere in there. When it comes to women he was more decent than most at least.

“Let me help you with that.” He says, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you so your back is right against the front of his body. He removes it and starts working at your undergarments.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks. You shake your head.

“No?” You say, more surprised at how gentle he’s being with you than anything else. He chuckles softly.

“Just making sure.” He coos before effortlessly removing your undergarments as well.

He flips you around and pushes you so you’re lying spread across the bed. He climbs over you, positioning himself so his knee is between your legs. You feel nervous with your body exposed to him like this. He starts tracing your body with his finger tips.

“You’re god damn gorgeous.” He remarks, cupping one of your warm breasts which you were embarrassed at how quickly the nipple on it hardened under his touch. He lays soft kisses all over your chest, sucking near your bellybutton which got an excited gasp from you in response. He continues drawing lines across your body with the two middle fingers of his right hand but stops when he reaches your lower area.

“You ever done anything like this before?” He asks, kissing your waistline. You consider lying. “Of course…” You could say, but he’d see right through it. You just didn’t want him to back up and leave because he didn’t want to harm your image. Too fucking gentlemanly to taint a womans reputation, but murder and crime? Now that’s alright.

“Well?” He questions again. You blush, shaking your head.

“No, I guess not.” You admit. You can see this troubles him, but he knows you don’t want to stop, he can tell you’re yearning for it, yearning for him more specifically.

“You know how it all works?” He asks, lowering himself to your thighs and kissing inside. You nod.

“Yeah, yeah I think so.” You reply, your eyes fluttering at the varying sensations your body was experiencing. He nods.

“Sit on my lap, I’m gonna put my fingers in okay?” You do as he says, sitting on his fancy black pants and adjusting yourself so that he’s comfortable. He lets out a light groan.

“God, sorry did I hurt you Mr Morgan?” He chuckles slightly.

“Quite the opposite, stay still I need to be able to control myself.” He instructs, and you feel yourself pooling at his words.

“Do you have water in this room?” He asks, and you look at him confused.

“Uh, yeah, by my nightstand theres a jug, I get thirsty sometimes at night.”

“Be right back.” He says, placing you back on the bed and taking the jug, pouring some water onto his fingers.

“If you’re uh…sort of….tight inside, it feels better with wet fingers.” He explains. You can’t help but laugh.

“You’re not the smoothest man out there Mr Morgan.” You tease. He laughs back.

“Pretty girls have that effect on me.” He delicately guides his two middle fingers between your folds and your pussy literally glistens. You’ve never felt wet for another person before and especially not to this extent.

“Breathe in.” He says as he guides two fingers inside you and you let out a sharp breath. He immediately removes his fingers.

“Too much, my lady?” You shake your head.

“No, no I can take it.” You affirm and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Sweetheart, I can tell the difference between a painful gasp and a moan. You’re still tight so I’m going to use my tongue to help you relax.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just think of it like a kiss.” He says before putting his tongue inside you. You let out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard yourself make and you put your fist in your mouth, embarrassed.

“Oh my god…” You whisper as he quickens his movements. Then, his nose is bumping up against your clit, his tongue still working other areas.

“Fuck~” You moan. You can guess all your manners and lessons in how to be dignified had gone down the drain.

A man you had met only today, an outlaw no less who was only at the party to steal from your father was giving you pleasure you could never give yourself. It was….interesting.

“Fuck…Fuck Arthur don’t go so fast I’ll…it’s too much…” But Arthurs so fucking into it, tasting you, savouring every orgasmic noise you make for the first time, only for his ears to enjoy. He doesn’t slow down and it’s not long before your pussy pulses in his mouth, your thighs shaking like a damn leaf.

“He gets back up and puts you on his lap again, putting his fingers in your slick.

“Wow, that’s quite a lot sweetheart.”

“I’ve never….well not like that before.” You explain. He nods, putting his fingers inside your significantly looser hole, doing small beckoning motions inside of you. You start breathing heavy again as he pumps his fingers in and out. You cling onto his jacket, already feeling your stomach swell in waves of pleasure. When you release again, he just flashes you a satisfied look.

“I’m gonna take my pants off. You can rub yourself on my thigh first, gotta get you ready for my cock.” You’re flushing red and just let out a small sound of understanding. When you see his half-hard cock in his underwear, though, you are so consumed with lust you can’t think of anything else but touching it.

“Go on get on my thigh.” Arthur tells you with a comforting smile. He notices your hesitant expression.

“What is it?”

“I want to touch you.” You blurt out. He smirks.

“Really?” He asks. You nod.

“Please.” Arthur gets off better through pleasuring others, but you’re so beautifully eager that he doesn’t think twice.

“Here.” He says, taking off the glove on your right hand and guiding it into his (boxers? Whatever tf they had back then) It was warm and felt very strange in a way you weren’t sure you liked, however feeling it grow in the palm of your hand was satisfying. You pulled the pants further down, taking out his cock. It was pretty well groomed and a lot cleaner than you had anticipated. It was also big. You knew it would be, he was practically a cowboy and you definitely knew what they said about cowboys.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it sternly over his shaft.

“Move your thumb over the tip…” He moves your fingers, rubbing himself with them.

“Like this. Then with your hand, apply press- mm” He lets out a low groan.

“And move up and down like this.” You nod, smiling a little awkwardly as you go up and down as fast as you can. Arthur rolls his head back.

“Damn….thats the way sweetheart fuck~” Arthur babbled. You smile, liking the effect you had on him.You continued at that pace and pressure for a while until his moans had progressed into hot fucking whimpers. He smirks at you knowingly.

“This turn you on gorgeous?” You don’t reply with words, just a simple nod. He hums in response.

“Show me how much.”

You remove your hand from his cock and reach down to your cunt, getting a thick layer of your slick from your fingers and showing him, clearly still embarrassed.He acknowledges this with a fond look of satisfaction.

“Coat my cock with it.” He instructs, and your eyes widen at his bluntness.

“I-“ You stop yourself, deciding your words were of little value in a situation like this. You do as he says, applying a thing layer of your spent and moving even faster. He moans at the sensation and warm precum floods your hands. You look up at him nervously.

“Wait…did you?”

“No sweetheart, you gotta do more than that.”

“Then why? What is…” you say, your fingers fidgeting with the liquid on your hands. He chuckles, fuck his laugh is attractive, too.

“It happens a little before. When it feels good, it means I’m close just keep going sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me.” You nod and go faster, feeling his precum dripping over your fingers.

He lets out a low groan combined with a slightly high pitched, breathy whimper. If your ears could cum, they would have just then. You watch with admiration as his head leans back, his glowing face looking all that much sexier when he wasn’t consumed in a mission.

“Mmmph…so good sweeth- oh fuck…” He lets out. You keep your eyes on him even as his cock pulses inside your hand, warmth completely coated your significantly smaller hand. You finally look back down at it.

“What does…what would it taste like?” You question, not even sure why the question crossed your mind. He laughs.

“Now how would I know that my lady?” He asks, still breathing heavily. You roll your eyes at yourself.

“Right.” You exclaim, feeling stupid. He puts a hand on your cheek.

“You did real good…” He says, but you’re still preoccupied in your own thoughts.

You should have asked first, probably, and in truth you’re not sure why you didn’t, but you put him in your mouth, tasting the salty, metallic flavour of him and evaluating the texture. He lets out a shocked gasp.

“H…holy….don’t- wh…” Is all he can manage, his dick practically swelling in your mouth. You stop and look up at him, swallowing what was in your mouth.

“Sorry…did you not like it?”

“Well I….of course I did- do- of course I do but…you need to give it time, it’s sensitive after releasing all that.” He explains. Your smile widens.

“It sounded like you like it.”

“I do b-“ You put him in your mouth again and this time he grabs your head and instinctively pushes it down, furthering himself in your mouth.

You’re stunned by his actions and also weirdly turned on, it’s not too much for you to handle and the new roughness he could give and is obviously keeping from you was starting to show. You continue and feel him rock hard again, not even able to speak and replacing his words with small whimpers and sighs.

“Hey um…stop st-“ He lets out. You do as he says, scared you did something wrong.

“Are you a virgin?” He speaks softly once he finally got his words back. You look a little upset now.

“That bad, huh?”

“What? It was incredible I’ve never felt that good in my life it’s just. If you’re willing we could…uh”

“Oh.” You say, your cheeks lighting up.

“I know you said you haven’t done anything like this.” He adds. “You probably want to save yourself for your husband.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. George Pettie said that.”

“Who?”

“He’s an author, he- nevermind.” You say, taking off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt.

“I’m not a good person, you don’t want your first to be with some random outlaw you met at a party do you?” He questions as the last of his clothes are removes and you see his glistening body, gentle lines of hair across the center. You shrug.

“It’s better this way, better to have experience, you know?” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“So you went for me. Wow, a man thinks he’s special…” He teases, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you onto his lap. You gasp at the feeling of your bare bodies touching like this, his warm thighs under your wet pussy, it was something you never knew you were craving.

“I’m gonna get you used to the rocking motion…uh.” He starts, taking you by the hips again and moves you slowly up his thigh. He moves you back down and you gasp at the sensation, your clit already fucking throbbing for him. Arthur smirks happily and moves you back again, this time with your help as you thrust your hips onto him. You let out a loud moan. He smiles widely.

“Mmm…good girl.” He murmurs as you start pleasuring yourself on his thigh. You look away nervously but keep moving up and down.

“I feel bad.” You say, simply. “You can’t feel anything when I do this.” He kisses you deeply and fuck do you love the feeling of his tongue dancing with yours.

“I love it like this.” Arthur admits, and you can tell by the look on his face that he’s genuine. Your pleasure is everything to him, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give it to you.

You keep going for a while, letting a chorus of gasps and moans escape your lips in a song of desperation. You’re close again, your eyes shutting involuntarily as you grip onto his hair.

“So good…” You exclaim, thrusting harshly. He kisses you even longer this time.

“Real good, girl.” He coos.

You look down and Arthur looks almost painfully hard at all this commotion. You look at him nervously. He smiles comfortingly at you.

“Lie down.” He tells you, and you do as he says, carefully getting off his lap and lying down on the bed beside him.

“Good, now take deep breaths, it might hurt a little at first okay?” Your wetness pools between your thighs. He’s so fucking caring, at least in this situation, and fuck…he talks you through it. You know he’s experienced and yet he’s treating every sensation like its a first for both of you

“Sweetheart?” He asks, softly, bringing you out of your head long enough to enjoy the experience. You blush.

“Yea- Yes.” You say, and he towers over you, sucking at the soft skin of your neck and urging a breathy moan in response.

“Don’t…mess around Arthur- just do it already.” He raises an eyebrow at this.

“Eager, aren’t you miss? Do you want me bad?” You roll your eyes, only somewhat playfully.

“Just do it.” You repeat. He didn’t really need to be told twice, because he was already lining himself up with your small, dripping cunt. You gasp and he lets out a deep groan when he first enters you. It stings slightly, after all he’s fucking large, but the pain of it all mixed with the pleasure you know he can give you only enhances the situation.

Arthur watches you from above, noting every noise you make as a result of the things he does to you. He particularly notices the way he forces himself inside you, the way you take every inch of him so fucking well, especially when there’s so much of him to take. It feels fucking phenomenal for him too, the heat of it, the stickiness from all his prior manipulation, it takes everything inside him to not thrust in and out as hard and fast as he wants to, using you as a fucking toy. You would be so perfect for that if that’s what you were into, or if you were any of Arthurs usual sexual partners- troubled women usually, who just want their brains to be fucked out by an outlaw. You were different though. Eager, maybe, but a dignified and intelligent woman who was sleeping with him because she knew it was what she wanted and not because she was troubled or unsatisfied by other men.

You could see that lustful look in his eye as he cautiously went in and out and you reach up to put a hand on his face.

“I can handle it Morgan. Go as fast as you want.” It’s like you could hear his thoughts. Arthur always had been transparent. He shakes his head.

“I’m not going to use…” He lets out a groan. “You.” He adds. You give him the most seductive look you know how to make.

“Use me.” You say, and his eyes darken at your comment. You grabs your legs and pins them above your head, forcing his entire cock inside you with some force, making you moan so loud you practically scream.

“Am I hurting y-“

“Enough with that, Morgan. “If you’re as bad of a man as you claim, you’ll treat me however you want to treat me.”

“I want to treat you well…” Arthur tries, unconvincingly. You give him a comforting look.

“Go on, Morgan.” You affirm again, and he nods, changing his attitude.

“You gonna take it like a fucking good girl?” He questions and holy fuck, this is turning you on significantly more, which is also more or less a concern, you can cross that bridge if and when it comes to it though.

“Fuck…yes Morg-“

“Don’t fucking call me that. What’s my name?”

“A…Arthur.” You cry out as he moves so fucking fast, so fucking effortlessly. He smiles.

“Good girl.” He continues on until your words aren’t even audible to him.

“Look at you.” Arthur rambles, putting a hand on your throat, still holding your other leg.

“So fucking full with my cock, I didn’t think you’d like it like this, guess I was- oh fuck~ mistaken.” You don’t say anything, you couldn’t even if you wanted to, but you felt yourself nearing yet another orgasm.

“I’m gonna have to pull….ah~ out soon.” Arthur warns, not slowing down or easing back even slightly. Your eyes are still shut tight, so fucking close yourself. And then you experience it, your stomach swirling in ethereal waves as your own slick pours down his cock and your pussy. He pulls out, spinning his body away and letting the warm white liquid spill onto himself.

When you finally open your eyes, you notice him wiping himself down with a nearby washcloth. He wipes your thighs down too and pulls you in so you’re lying down besides each other.

“Well I think we got what we needed from this party.” He says, letting out a soft laugh. You nod.

“Thank god the guards didn’t hear all that.”

“Ah yes, what would daddy’s guards think?” You hit him playfully.

“Let’s go.” You say and he nods, getting up and grabbing his clothes from the ground.

“So now you’re authoritative.” He mutters to himself.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #smut #arthur morgan x fem reader

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foldedblankets · 2 years

Text

Sit tight | E.M

Eddie munson x reader smut.

Summary: eddies busy trying to figure out his funds, you want his attention and just when you think he’s giving it to you, he carries on working.

Warnings: SMUT (cockwarming, Dom!eddie x sub!reader, degrading, light praise, biting), mention of his business, cussing. DIRTY TALK. LIKE DIRTY TALK. not proofread.

How long could it possibly take to count some numbers? Eddie had been sat for about an hour now, he had barely spoken a word to you due to his stupid need for a new dnd thing. He just mentioned dice and a handbook and it was enough to make you zone out. He had been not only trying to figure out if he could afford that but also weighing out numerous bags of weed and pills.

He payed no mind to your presence, too focused on his task to even notice you weren’t wearing anything but his ‘AC/DC’ tee, your head rested in his lap as you fiddled with the hem of his hellfire t-shirt that rested on his chest.

At the whisper of his name he glanced down and met your eyes, your face lit up as he finally payed you some attention “eds, im bored”

“Baby, why don’t you do something? I could be doing this for a while” he suggested, nudging you off his lap, a light chuckle leaving his mouth.

“But I want to be near you” you whined, wrapping your hands around his arm and pressing kisses long his neck and clothed shoulder. He just leaned his neck away, biting at the inside of his cheek “y/n I need to focus, I’ll be done soon mkay” he spoke dismissively. With a huff you nodded, grabbing your gameboy, (pretend it came out in 86 not 89 lmao) leaning against his side, pulling a pissed off face.

He noticed your angry act and let out a sigh, pulling you onto his lap and pressing kisses into the crook of your neck “cmon baby” he mumbled “don’t act like I don’t care for you” he pulled back, moving your hair to the side to kiss the back of your shoulder. Hearing your little whimpers he grinned, his hands on your waist. “Fine, I’ll give ya what you want, up”

As you lifted your hips instantly, he unbuckled his belt, and his jeans, swiftly pulling his member out. He stroked it afew times before sliding it across your hole, his head tipping back slightly in pleasure. “Mkay, doll, cmon” he confirmed he was ready, lining himself up as you slowly sat back down onto him. As you both let out a breathy moan, almost in sync, he felt you getting ready to lift your hips again yet he stopped you roughly, his fingers digging into your hips and slamming you back down onto his cock. As he heard you let out a loud whiny moan he leaned down to your ear “sit tight sweetheart” he kissed behind your ear with a grin.

Sure this was difficult for him, not fucking into you, but he wanted to tease you, going back to his work. He heard you protest, whining and trying to move. “You sound so pathetic, that desperate hm?” He grunted, suddenly your sounds stopped and he nodded “good girl”

It was so easy to take control of you in moments like these, it boosted his ego, to a large level. He felt your hips swivel around him, a smirk on his face, he let you, knowing you wouldn’t go further without his permission.

After a few moments he heard a quiet “please” and boy was he a softie, he sometimes couldn’t keep up a dominant act. “Please eds, need it” it killed him to not give you what you want. That’s all he wanted.

“But you feel so good, warming up my cock darling, you don’t want to make me feel good?” He smirked, teasing you, his voice deep and lust filled.

“I do” you huffed, attempting to move your hips, he could hear your pants. He had a cocky smirk plastered across his face as he nodded “only kidding baby, you can move” he stated and the second you heard him, he felt your hips lift.

He couldn’t lie, he loved the feeling of you bouncing on his lap, his body slouched and head back against the back of the couch as you leaned forward, his hand on your lower back. He could hear your cries, he loved it, watching how your body trembled every few movements.

He could feel your pussy clenching around him, looking down and seeing himself slide in and out of you, his eyes fluttered shut. Your moans filled his ears, his senses overwhelmed as he dug his heels into the floor, suddenly fucking up into you.

He noticed that your body was relying on the table to keep you up, his hands pulled your back against his, roaming across your stomach and chest, pinching at any skin he could as his body reminded him of just how close he was.

He took your hand, lifting it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to it as he heard your moans grow breathier and your hips shake slightly. “Good girl, cmon, finish for me” he thrusted up into you, feeling as your own movements stopped, his other hand moving to rub harsh and fast circles on your clit “that’s it, cum on my cock” he whispered into your ear. Your own moans sending him into overdrive as he felt your juices on him. He had to quickly pull out of you the second you came, giving himself a few more strokes before cumming onto your back.

During both of your afterglows he leaned back against the couch “fuck” he mumbled “your wearing my shirt”

“Mhm?” You hummed shakily, turning your head to face him, confused on why he was bringing it up.

“I just came on it” he shook his head, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “For fucks sake”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut

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give-me-a-breakk · 1 year

Text

Strip Chess [gnf x f!reader]

word count: 2,564

warnings: handjob, blowjob, boobs, cum, the L word

summary: george comes over because you’re bored. you guys decide to add a twist to your game of chess that leaves you both shirtless.

“Y/N!” i jump a little, finally paying attention to the fact that i’m still in a call with george.

“sorry, what were you saying?”

he laughs, “i wasn’t saying anything, i just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”

“and i was..”

“not” he finishes.

“i’m sorry george, i’m just really bored today.”

“well, i could come over?” george suggests.

i smirk, even though george can’t see it.

“oh, you wanna come over george?”

“well- i- only if you want- since you’re bored-“ he stutters out.

i smile to myself. he’s doing it again. it seems that something about me makes him nervous, he never gets this flustered around anyone else.

but, it wasn’t a very well hidden secret that he liked me. everytime i came over to their house, dream and sapnap would nudge george at every one of our interactions. i guess they think i never notice all their little antics, but i can always see them in the corner of my eye, making kissy faces at george or pointing me out to him.

my eyes focus back on my computer screen, and i realize i’m about to start zoning out again.

“you know, you don’t need to be so nervous around me george.”

he doesn’t say anything.

“i’d love for you to come over.”

he agrees and leaves the call to get ready.

(third person pov)

zoning out into her thoughts again, y/n lays on her bed thinking about george, waiting for him to get here. intrusive thoughts kicked in, slowly escalating as the minutes past. at some point, her thoughts became about what george’s face would look like with his cock in her mouth.

she felt a little guilty, having thoughts like this about one of her best friends, but it wouldn’t even be the first time. unconsciously, her hand softly grazes her thigh, her eyes closed, imagining it’s george’s hand.

keeping her eyes closed, she begins to lightly rub her clit through the layers of clothing. the lightness of her fingers remind her of george and the way he handles everything with a weirdly delicate grip.

her phone dings and she finally opens her eyes to see it’s a text from george.

‘i’m here’

“fuck, of course you get here right now..” she whispers to herself, and gets up to open the door for him.

when she opens the door, george immediately gives her a weird look. he can see her face is clearly flushed.

“what?” y/n asks.

“why’s your face all red?” he asks, a light blush appearing on his face too. he liked they way she looked right now.

y/n grins. “why do you think, george?” she asks, tilting her head towards him.

“i- wha- i don’t know! i asked you.” he stutters, defensive and nervous.

y/n chuckles and moves aside so he can enter. “come in.”

after george settles in, they sat on the floor in the living room. george never understood why she preferred sitting on the floor rather than her sofa.

y/n sat extremely close to george as they talked. she was horny instead of bored now, which was quite inconvenient for the situation.

george sat stiffly, afraid to touch her anywhere inappropriately. but he still watched her as she talked, trying to keep eye contact, but constantly getting distracted by whichever part of her body was closest to him in that moment.

soon enough, that part became her breasts as she arched her back and leaned towards him. her horny state made her bolder than usual and george could hear her mumble something under her breath.

“oh my god, please touch my chest.”

“what?” george asked kind of loudly as his face turned red.

she was surprised he heard her at all, considering she said it pretty quietly. she tried to play it off saying, “i said let’s play chess” and giving george a sweet smile. she seemed so confident about it, that he’s almost completely convinced that his brain made up the last thing he heard.

she finishes setting up the chess board, and they start playing. george proves to be a lot better than y/n, beating her a whole four times in a row.

y/n sighs as george sets the pieces back into place for a fifth game.

“okay.. maybe if we raise the stakes, i’ll be motivated to win.” she says, tilting her head to the side as she thinks.

george puts down the last piece and looks up at her. “well what should we raise it to?” he asks.

she looks up, staring directly into his eyes. the sinister smile on her face makes him nervous.

“let’s make it like strip poker,” she pauses before adding, “only if you’re down, of course.”

george looks down, trying to hide the blush on his face. “yeah, okay. let’s do it.”

this time, y/n tried her best to focus on each move, thinking about what his next move might be, and what moves she could make to prevent it. unfortunately, it was useless because he beats her again.

“ha! i win!” george exclaims with a stupid smile. but he quickly looks up to see y/n’s smile and he remembers what she has to do.

usually she would sort of cheat in these kinds of games, starting with socks or accessories. but since they were settled down in her home, she had less options.

she slips her sweatshirt off, her chest only covered with a bra now. she looks at george to see him staring at her cleavage that peeks out, and he quickly looks away. she feels her skin gets goosebumps from the cool air that now hit her bare skin.

they start the next round of chess. this time, george taking a longer time on his turns. he was trying so hard to focus on what moves he should do next, but it was hard for him to think without remembering that y/n sat across from him, in just a bra.

despite being distracted, george still won this round, meaning y/n would have to strip again.

she hesitates for a moment, thinking about whether she should just take her pants off next, or if she should take off her bra next just to mess with george even more.

her horniness takes over, and she decides it’ll just be funner to take her bra off. as soon as she reaches back for the clips in the back, george’s eyes widen. they make eye contact as she undoes her bra, pulling it down her shoulders slowly to reveal her breasts.

george tried desperately not look down from her eyes, but when he did catch glances, he felt himself tensing up and getting horny. soon enough, his dick grew hard in his sweats as he watches her set the pieces up again for the next round.

“are you okay george? your face is really red..” y/n teases, with an obviously fake concern in her voice.

“yeah” is all he can say in return.

this round was even slower than the last. every other turn george took she’d have to call his name because of how long he was taking. he just couldn’t think straight at all, his thoughts were just completely full of images of her, and to think she was still just right there.

on one of her turns, george notices she’s smiling and realizes it’s because she finally just beat him. his eyes widen, not even realizing he was losing.

“finally, oh my god.” she sighs.

she shifts a little from where she’s sitting on the floor, a smirk plastered on her face, and her eyes trained on george. her gaze made him shiver a little, he was nervous, but at the same time, he was excited.

thinking about the fact that y/n was patiently awaiting for him to take off his shirt while she watched him turned him on even more, another blush appearing on his face.

so he takes off his shirt, finally revealing his always hidden figure to y/n.

“holy fuck..” she mumbles as her eyes trail down his torso. he chuckles, feeling flattered by her reaction.

this game was torturing them, slowly making them both hornier and hornier. in y/n’s mind, she could only take one more game, but after that, how could she resist?

yet again they start another round, this time y/n was anxious to see the end of it, her leg bouncing up and down unconsciously. the movement also caused a tiny bit of friction between her legs, so she couldn’t bring herself to stop. despite their new lack of clothes, their bodies both felt warm now.

another round of basically edging is over and george is once again the winner. he scoffs happily, waiting for y/n to strip off another piece of clothing.

“fuck this, just take it all off.” she pushes the chess board off to the side, knocking down a lot of the pieces in the process. george flinches a little at the sound, then looks back at y/n as she quickly scoots towards him.

his hands keep to his sides and his face turns beet red as she straddles him, her arms resting on his shoulders, and her hands in his hair.

she shifts a little, wanting to feel the exact imprint of his hard dick against her. a muffled moan comes from george and she looks at him, a little surprised, since she hadn’t really moved that much.

he sees her facial expression and feels the need to explain. “i haven’t done anything like this in a long time..” he says while looking away from her eyes.

“oh. do you not want to do this then?” she asks while moving her head to try and meet his eyes with hers again.

“no! i want to.. please.” he whines.

she chuckles. “well if you insist, george” she says while starting to grind her hips against him.

she starts to place kisses on the side of his neck, slowly moving down to search for any sensitive spots. when he groans as she softly bites a spot near his collarbone, she knows she found one. her lips focus on that area as she continues grinding on his lap. their chests making skin to skin contact as they’re pressed together, still sitting on the floor.

“you can touch me george..” she says by his ear, causing him to get goosebumps. without responding, he lifts his hands to her waist and rests them there lightly. she can feel how stiff he is and pulls back to look at him. he just looks up at her like a clueless puppy and she instantly melts inside.

“like this?” he tilts his head a little as he asks. she smiles sweetly and nods. “you can.. keep going though.” she places her hands around his wrists to slowly slide them higher on her waist. “the more your hands touch me, george,” she slides his hands towards the underside of her boobs, “the hornier i get.”

with that, he takes control and finishes the movement, carefully cupping her breasts in his hands. she allows her hands to slip off his wrists, and places them down by his sides while she leans closer into his touch. his grip is delicate just like she remembered of how he handled everything else. he takes one of her nipples in his fingers and starts playing with it, making her moan.

as george experiments with her sensitive breasts, y/n reaches down into his pants and rubs him over his sweats. he moans a little louder than she expected him to and he bucks up into her hand. she feels him tense up, but before he can try to apologize or express shame, she kisses him lovingly. their lips slowly separate as she pulls away but she speaks with her lips still hovering over his.

“sit on the couch.” she sighs out. he immediately follows her orders, lifting himself up onto her couch.

she trails her arms up his legs, stopping right at the waistline of his sweats. his breath hitches as he watches her hands pull them down, going quickly as she’s been waiting for this. his boxers go down with his sweats, and his hard dick pops out. she immediately holds it in both her hands, placing a kiss on his tip.

“george, can i be honest.”

she doesn’t hear him answer at first, but when she looks up, he’s nodding helplessly. she smiles, “i’ve thought about you like this before …so many times.”

his eyes slowly scan her face, and he sees how genuine she’s being. his pupils are dilated because he’s horny, desperate, and in love all at once. this moment is giving him the biggest urge to just tell her that he loves her, but he knows she’d think it’s too soon.

she leaves another peck at his tip, but then moves down to take him into her mouth. his eyes shut and his jaw tightens.

he tries to say something, to praise her, anything, but nothing is coming out except small groans. “i-“ he starts, but he’s cut off by his own moan as she speeds up.

she moves her hand to rest on one of his. eventually, he reaches a point of lightly bucking up into her mouth. she lifts her mouth off, swirling her tongue around his tip since he was so aroused now. his body unintentionally trembles and she smiles before placing kisses down from his tip to the base.

she was being so gentle and loving with him and he could cum from just that fact. he intertwines his fingers with hers that she rested on his earlier. she decides to focus on him and worry about her hormones later.

“do you know why i was so red when i answered the door?” she asks, smiling to herself.

he gulps as she continues, “i was thinking about you.”

she sees his dick twitch at her words. she laughs lightly and grips him a little tighter.

“y/n?”

she pauses and looks up at him, waiting for him to speak. it would be the first thing he’s said in a while.

“i..”

he’s fighting himself to try and stop himself from saying whatever it is. he pressed his lips together, still thinking about it. she squeezes their intertwined hands, and it encourages him to spit it out.

“i love you.”

he knows it was too soon. he already loved her as a friend, and even as more, but he was just learning about her feelings. he was already beating himself up inside. but he’s forced to stop when he sees her with the biggest smile he’s ever seen on her face.

his eyes widen when she starts jerking him off again.

“i love you too, george.” she says through a smile, before kissing his tip again. and that’s what does it for him. george’s body convulses once more as he reaches his climax. without warning, his cum lands on her face, causing her to flinch. he gasps and immediately goes to wipe it off.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.”

she laughs. he wipes her lips and right after, she leans up and kisses him.

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strangerthings64 · 2 years

Note

Omgg 21 or 23 for the prompt list!

Omg, I love these prompts so glad I added it!

So I decided I’d do 21 , 22 and 23 because why not!

Warning: dirty talk, mention of previous sex acts, slight smut not much tho.

Hope you like it!! 💕

It was a hundred degrees outside and God knows how much degrees it currently was inside. The AC hardly working, being all busted up from when Eddie accidentally ran into it that one time you guys were running around his place, chasing each other like little kids.

You sigh the irritation setting in as the heat of the summer was getting to you, and being cooped up all day in Eddie's trailer with nothing to do but sit here and listen to him mumble and write also wasn't helping, normally it was fine and you loved listening to him play his guitar or write music. But it felt like your brain was frying, so this was definitely not one of those moments.

"Eddie, baby pleaseee can we do something else other then just sit here. It's so fucking hot." You whined, all sprawled out on his bed as you fanned yourself with a magazine. The water droplets pooling around your face from when you splashed yourself only seconds ago.

"Sorry, sweetheart but I'm a bit busy at the moment this song isn't gonna write it's self." He replied, scribbling a few words onto the paper in his hands, glancing up at you every now and then chuckling at the state your in, the heat hardly effecting him it seemed like.

He was laughing at you as laid all spread out on his bed, shirt rising up just a bit below your breasts, your body covered in sweat from top to bottom, it was a sigh to behold. Reminded him of the many nights you'd spend just like this all spread out for him hot and bothered.

"That's not fair, I'm so fucking hot right now it hurts." You cried out placing both your hands on the side of your face gently bitting your lips, as you scrunch up your nose, the heat and him blantly disregarding how hot it was, was getting too much for you. You couldn't understand how he could just sit there and be fine.

"Eddie I don't understand how you can just sit there in this weather, writing your goddamn songs when my heads gonna explode from how hot it is." You stare at him bitterly, as he continues to ignore your little tantrums on his bed, jotting down a few more things on his paper. You stare at him intensely hoping he'd get uncomfortable and pay attention to you.

Yeah sure you were acting all needy, but you've been here for hours as the scourging sun threatened to come inside while he sat there and wrote his songs, frankly all you wanted was a little attention from your boyfriend.

He sighs and gazes up at you raising one eyebrow, placing his work down in his lap and crossing his arms over his chest, the hellfire logo clearly visible above his arms. Your ears perk up at the sound of paper rustling noticing he had place down his work. You were ecstatic, finally he was paying attention to you these last few hours had been so boring with out his attention on you. A small smile falls onto your lips as you gently bite your lips again.

"Darling, If you complain one more time that it's hot, I'm gonna give you a reason to sweat." He says staring at you a small smirk making its way onto his face. You sit up onto your elbows, smirking back at him and raising your eyebrows.

"Oh yeah, and how are you gonna do that? Your busy remember." You answer ardently. Your bottom lip slipping in between your teeth, in a seductive way as he lets out a shaky breathing rubbing his hands over his face.

Letting out a shaky laugh he climbs over your body staring you down as you gaze up at him innocently, he knew what you were doing with the whole lip biting. It was always one of his weaknesses, the way your teeth surrounded your plump lips were enough to drive him wild. And it was especially harder for him in public, you'd gently bit your lips in class eyes full of concentration as he’d gaze over at you. Or in the lunch room while you’d zone out as he rambled about stuff to his friends as he’d quickly glance over at you to find out why’d you gone so quiet. Only to catch you biting your lips, eyes glazed over with thought. And you wouldn't even know the power you had over him as he'd grip the table, knuckles turning a milky white as he took in deep breaths trying not to pounce on you right there.

"If you bite your lip one more time, I'm gonna do it for you." He said in a low whisper, lips so close you could feel his hot breath fanning onto your face, making the room all more hotter. The butterflies in chest traveled to your stomach and then straight down to your core. You sigh sweetly giving his lips a little tug with your teeth, you pull back a sinful look in your eyes.

"Maybe I want you to Eds." you reply lift your foot and rubbing it gently on the side of his thigh, coaxing him.

"Maybe I want you to fuck me, like the dirty slut I am." You said, gazing up at your man hungrily, all this talk was getting frustrating all you wanted was to feel him inside of you in every way possible, and you’d always been one for dirty talk.

"Of course you want me to fuck you. Your my dirty little slut." He sighs heavily, softly pecking your lips and pulling away before you have the change to deepen the kiss chuckling as you whine.

"You think you can just run that pretty mouth of yours whenever you want, don't you sweetheart?" He asks you gripping your jaw a bit, keeping eye contact with you. You slowly run your hand over his shoulder rubbing the muscles in his shoulder a bit hoping to release some built up tension, he inhaled sharply trying not to let you win but he was already putty in your hands. If you kept this up he wouldn’t be able to keep up this facade for long.

You lowered your hand down to his forearm, gently tracing his tattoos knowing how much he loved it when you did that. Tenderly bring your hand right to the middle of his stomach lifting his shirt up a bit to run your hand over his happy trail.

He shuts his eyes leaning his body into your touch. Slowly bring your hand down to his growing bulge, you softly stroking him through his jeans as you hear a small groan leave his lips.

"My mouth can do a lot more than talk pretty boy."

(I don’t really have a taglist at the moment, but if you want to be added just lmk, if you wanna be taken off just lmk. :)

@erosso @mommymilkercore @eddiemunnson @prettyboyeddiemunson

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #eddie munson x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson is hot #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot

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hiddles-and-skittles · 2 years

Text

Not Just A One-Time Thing

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,046

Summary: When in Rome-or some random event that you definitely don’t want to be at-and after pushing every one of Bucky’s buttons, you take it upon yourself to have a party of your own. In a closet. With Bucky.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, rivals to lovers, heavy teasing, blushing idiots, Bucky’s anxiety, smut, fluffy smut because it’s good for the soul, mutual pining idiots who don’t know they’re mutual pining idiots, a little angst but it all ends fluffy because I won’t be able to sleep otherwise!

Notes: I haven’t written much in a hot minute, I’m going through a lot right now (potential liver failure) and this is one thing I’m sorta proud of! I’ve stated before that I don’t typically write smut, which is true because ya girl is inexperienced and it’s completely unfamiliar, but I like to push myself out of my comfort zone and see what I can do. Sometimes it’s great, sometimes it flops. But you won’t know until you try. And me? I want to try everything.

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

"You're going."

Sam’s stern voice echoes in your head as you resist the urge to slap yourself in the face.

"No." You desperately hope the simple word is sufficient enough that he decides not to argue.

"I will drag you there in a dress if I have to."

"If you're trying to threaten me you'll have to do better than that."

He chuckles. "Alright fine. Then he’ll drag you there," he points a thumb in the direction of your third roommate, Bucky, and the corner of Bucky’s mouth slightly twitches. There’s always been a slight rivalry between the two of you, never a real reason behind it. All you know is that if Sam’s attention is on you, Bucky stares at you as if he’ll rip your head clean from your body. It can be intimidating sometimes, but you know it’s just what he does; he’s insanely protective of anyone he holds dear, and you’ll admit it’s fairly admirable. Maybe kinda hot.

Most people would probably cower from the former assassin’s lingering glare, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about those piercing blue eyes boring into you as he fucks you relentlessly into your mattress. So you challenge him by being as annoying as you possibly can to see how far he’ll go before he snaps.

"I’m not wearing a dress in this weather."

"Oh, so that's what this is about?" Sam asks, his hands on his hips.

You narrow your eyes. “It's almost in the negatives out.” He sighs and mumbles a quick ‘whatever’ under his breath, giving up and leaving the room. Bucky watches him intently until the door shuts, leaving the both of you alone. His eyes flick to you.

“This is big for him,” he starts, taking a breath. “Imagine having something this important to you and we don't show.”

“Well I'd encourage you not to, I wouldn't want to be there more than likely.”

His jaw clenches and he frustratingly huffs through his nose, taking a chair and flipping it around to sit with his arms leaning on the top of it. After a moment of silence, he tilts his head. “They have alcohol.”

You sigh, resting your cheek in your palm. “So?”

“So,” he shrugs suggestively.

“I don't like alcohol,” you simper.

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back with a dramatic ugh, his previously annoyed demeanor returning. “I'll drink for you then.”

“Yeah okay,” you snort. “And I have to be completely sober? Pass.”

“Just-” he squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing his brow with his thumb and index finger, exhaling sharply before looking you in the eye. “Wear a stupid dress, alright?”

You cock an eyebrow. “Oh? You went casual last time, were you the exception to the rule?”

He licks his lips. “Tell you what. I'll wear a suit if you go.”

You sit back in your chair, a sinister smile appearing on your face. “...I don't think that's enough incentive.”

“What do you want from me?” he growls.

“Hmm...I don't know yet.” His metal hand makes a fist and you chuckle. “I'll go.”

It’s only been about twenty minutes at the crowded event, but you’ve managed to situate yourself and try your best not to acknowledge the men staggering around leering at you. You thought this place would be far classier, but clearly where there is alcohol, there are people who lack self-control.

You don a sequined red dress that hugs your curves and goes past your knees, and a faux white fur jacket covering your shoulders to try and stave off some of the cold.

Sam walks on stage and the crowd immediately cheers for him, and a small proud smile appears on your face. Your eyes find Bucky from across the floor and your breath hitches, finding it difficult to take your eyes off him as he makes his way over to you.

Damn.

He fidgets as he stands beside you and takes in the way you look at him. He buzzed off more of his hair, his scruff has grown out a little but it’s neatly trimmed, and as promised, he’s dressed in a navy blue suit with a matching tie.

“I know. I look ridiculous.” His brows furrow as he tenses up.

“I wouldn't say that,” you purr. He turns to you, his cheeks tinged pink as he smiles bashfully. Cheering erupts once again as the host asks to give Sam a warm welcome, and he soon starts his speech.

It’s times like these Bucky wishes you weren’t such a punk, because he’d kill to tell you how he feels. Of course you don’t feel the same because you always push his buttons, and Sam never should have let him move in with you two because you’ll never accept him in fully, but he really wants to kiss you and sometimes bend you over a table but-

You both stand away from everyone and around the refreshment tables and Sam eventually throws a mention to you both, a spotlight beaming on you for a second while the audience shouts. You give an awkward smile and wave, both of you hating the attention, and when it disappears Bucky is visibly uncomfortable with strangers’ eyes on him. You turn to him and place a hand on his arm.

“Wanna get a dri-”

“-Yes,” he interrupts quickly, apologizing immediately and making you giggle. You walk towards the alcohol and find an ice tub of beer. He watches your hips sway seductively as you leave his side and wonders if you’re doing that intentionally, but it doesn’t matter; in the end it’s got his mouth watering for something that isn’t alcohol, something that could get him just as drunk.

He stays a few steps behind, raking his eyes over your body at least a dozen times. You turn around as if in slow motion and he can’t help but compare your beauty to that of a young Vivien Leigh, but he quickly dismisses his thoughts and grasps the bottle you reach out to him. He pops the top, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swigs the drink, causing you to swallow thickly and wet your lips at the sight. Fuck. After almost downing the entire bottle he nurses it in his gloved left hand, and you look away, feeling warmth spread over your body. He gazes at you when you’re no longer paying attention to him.

“You look lovely,” he blurts out, interrupting his own thoughts and nearly choking on his drink.

“Really?” you whisper in disbelief. He hesitates when you don’t fully react, but you give in and tug on his tie, twirling it around your fingers. “You don't look so bad yourself, Barnes.” You both lock eyes, his gaze darker than before, and that has enough pull on you to set a plan in motion. You glance around the room and notice the buzz dying down, everyone in their own little worlds. “Getting a little dull here, isn't it?”

He licks his lips. “Mmhmm.”

“I have an idea.” You take the drink from him and replace it with your hand, leading him away from the crowd as he stumbles after you.

You creep down an empty hallway and discover a small utility closet that luckily is unlocked, so you open the door and find the light switch. You practically throw him inside, both of you tripping over cleaning supplies that litter the floor. You fall into his chest, both of you panting in anticipation. He gives in to his thoughts and quickly shrugs his suit jacket off, cupping your face with his gloved fingers and roughly kissing you to steal the breath from your lungs. All you can do is thank God that you gave in and wore a stupid dress, and went to the stupid party, and oh hell is he a good kisser. He pulls away for air, eyes scanning your face while he licks his lips. “I'm glad you came,” he breathes.

“Oh, I haven't done that yet.” You smirk as he shoves you against the wall and pins your wrists above your head with his hands, his mouth a breath from yours as he presses into you.

“Was this what you wanted?” he whispers, brushing the tip of your nose with his.

“No, but I guess I'll have to settle.” One of his hands leaves your wrists to gather up the hem of your dress to where it sits just above your hips, granting himself better access to rock into you. Your leg instinctively hooks around him to pull him closer and you feel his hardness pressing into your stomach.

“Why are you always such a brat?” He grits out, diving to kiss you again as he parts your thighs with his knee. You can still taste the alcohol on his lips.

“Because you haven’t fucked it out of me yet.” You smile as his hand wraps around your throat to deepen the searing kiss and he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth. He shifts to latch his mouth onto your neck and trails his way up to the sweet spot under your ear. You moan as you ride his thigh, the friction making you dizzy with lust. You wriggle your hands free from his grip and tangle one in his short locks and the other slides down the wide planes of his back to claw at his ass. He grunts and squeezes your hip in return.

“Tell me you want this,” he says between ragged breaths. You chuckle.

“You say it first.” He laughs dangerously, a predatory sound that sends a shock directly to your core. “You always did strike me as submissive,” you tease, testing the waters. Any trace of playfulness immediately dissipates from his face and a moment passes where he looks as if he’s about to devour you like a wolf would a deer.

“I’m not giving you that satisfaction,” he simpers as he leans in close. Your eyes stay trained on his.

“Well, looks like I’m not giving it to you, either.” You condescendingly pat his chest and grin as you push the hem of your dress back down, lazily running your fingers through your messy hair. He stares at you in disbelief when you open the door to leave, collecting your discarded accessories from the floor and stepping outside the frame.

“Fuck,” he rolls his eyes to himself. “Wait.”

“Oh?” you turn around, tapping the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you.”

“I said fine. I...want you. I want this,” he says reluctantly, avoiding your eyes as a light blush covers his cheeks. “But if you think for one goddamn second I’m sub-”

“Shut up and kiss me, dumbass.” You kick the door shut and throw your things down again, and he pushes your back against the wall once more. His lips descend on yours with more fervor than before and you waste no time hiking up your dress for him. He presses into you and successfully traps you between his arms, grinding into you as your hands grip the collar of his shirt. He detaches himself from you and in one swift motion yanks his belt out of his pants and slings it to the floor.

“You won’t be telling me what to do after I fuck you through this wall,” he growls. Heat blooms on your face at his obscenity, but you can’t help your excited grin spreading from ear to ear.

“I don’t think you can handle me,” you tease, your voice quiet. He laughs like a madman on the brink of relapse.

“Oh, I think I can handle you just-” he hooks a finger into your underwear and rips it off completely, “-fine.” You yelp in surprise when he suddenly lifts you, instinctively wrapping your legs around him and gasping when you feel his clothed erection throbbing against your clit. Your hands grip his shoulders and he finally pulls his pants down just enough to spring himself free. You bite back a sob as he slowly removes his gloves and brings his cool, metal hand to your wetness, easily sliding two digits in, causing you to hiss at the stretch. He pumps slowly and you throw your head back, letting out a whine.

“P-please, Bucky, I need you.” He promptly pulls his fingers out and brings them to his lips, sucking your juices off loudly to get your attention. Your head slumps forward and you meet his boastful gaze.

“I’m sorry?” he asks, mocking your tone from earlier. “I didn’t catch that.”

“What, going deaf in your old age?” you jab.

His hands intentionally slip a little from under you and he smirks. “I’ll drop you.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“Name calling isn’t the way into my heart, doll,” he tsks.

“No, but it is the way into your pants, otherwise we wouldn’t be in this room.” You both erupt into a fit of giggles and he nods in agreement. “So, honor that by doing me.”

“That’s not how you say it,” he laughs, his nose crinkling as he smiles.

“Fine, then. Fuck me.”

“Attagirl.”

His hand reaches to guide himself into you and you both moan as you fully sink down, seating yourself on his cock. Your eyes wrench shut and Bucky kisses you again, only this time there’s something else behind it. His forehead rests against yours and he doesn’t move until you open your eyes.

“You sure?” he asks, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you respond with shaky breath, your hands connecting behind his neck. And with that, he draws his cock out, adjusting your stance and sheathing himself in you again.

He starts at a leisurely pace to give you time to accommodate his size but you impatiently meet his thrusts to spur him on, gasping each time your bodies connect. “You’re so tight,” he groans, his brows furrowing as he builds a faster rhythm. Every sharp snap of his hips sends you a few inches up the wall and you can feel the tangles forming in your hair, but you’re too intoxicated by him to notice.

His hand pulls you in by your neck and he kisses you, licking into your mouth when you moan. You fixate on the sounds of his body slapping against yours and his shallow breath, the feeling of your slick running down your thighs and the way he smells. Your eyes roll back and his rocking accelerates when you dig your nails into his shoulders, growling out your name as he relentlessly pounds up into you. He dips his fingers between your bodies and your back arches the second his thumb meets your swollen bud, sending a sweet electric shock up your spine. Your walls begin to flutter around him as he feels you getting close and he massages your clit in tighter circles.

“Oh fuck,” you moan.

“Cum for me,” he rasps, his mouth agape and eyes screwed shut.

It doesn’t take long for the coil in your stomach to snap, and with one look at his blissed out face you’re sent over the edge, crashing repeatedly as he continues to ride you through your orgasm. “B-Bucky,” you gasp, writhing at the slight overstimulation. He holds you in place by gripping your thighs as he slams into you, choking out a moan as he soon follows your climax.

Had he not been holding you up, you definitely would have fallen. He nuzzles into your neck as you both come down, kissing your pulse point tenderly as you gently card your fingers through his hair. You relax into each other for as long as it takes for your breathing to level out.

He reels back, his calloused fingers brushing your cheek as he studies you.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he gushes, making your face flush. His eyes find yours and you both breathe out a laugh at your disheveled states. You lean forward to kiss him, your thumbs caressing his cheeks as he gently captures your lips. You both moan when he suddenly pulls out, sighing when you feel his cum dripping down your thigh.

Your legs are jelly when he finally sets you back down and you hold onto him for balance as he pulls his trousers up. He looks around the closet and finds a stack of towels, reaching for one without stepping away. He squats to clean you up, then tugs your dress down and smooths it out, extending an arm to pick up your purse, his jacket and belt, and your ruined underwear. He shoots you an apologetic look and you snort as he shoves them in his pocket.

“You owe me a new pair.” He stands and reaches for your hand with hesitance but you close the gap to hush his racing mind. “Then again, if you’re just gonna rip them off, maybe I shouldn’t bother wearing any at all.” He casts his eyes downward with a sad smile, avoiding your eyes. You squeeze his hand. “What’s wrong?”

He sighs. “Was this a one-time thing?” He watches you from his peripheral with caution. “Because I really like you.”

“I like you too,” you assure him, taken aback by his question. His eyes flick to yours.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted things to go with you.” A pang of guilt hits your stomach.

“Do you...regret this?” He shakes his head.

“No. It’s just, I wanted to ask you out first.” You smile at him.

“Then ask me out. You know I’ll say yes.” He timidly smiles back.

“Will you-”

“God, yes,” you laugh, standing on your toes to kiss him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You both step over the cleaning supplies you haphazardly kicked out of the way earlier and open the door. “How long do you think it’ll take Sam to notice we’re a thing now?” Before Bucky can respond, another voice pipes up.

“I noticed about ten minutes ago.” Sam’s arms are folded over his chest and he’s leaning on the wall outside the utility closet, his eyebrow cocked with a smug grin plastered to his face. “And it’s about damn time.”

Thank you for reading <3

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader fluff #fluff #smut #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my writing #mcu #my fic #bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #james bucky barnes #fanfiction

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

That Black Tee

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingers, slight metal arm kink, sex against a wall, semi-public sex, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: It was such a simple thing. Just a simple black tee-shirt. But the way Bucky wore it had you practically melting -- and he seemed to realize it, happily granting your needs A/N: idk guys there was just something about that black tee-shirt bucky wore in episode 4 of TFATWS. it got my mind wandering. and i love practicing writing smut i hope im getting better at it lmao

Masterlist

You knew you absolutely, utterly fucked the second Bucky took off his jacket, revealing that damn black tee.

So simple yet so fitting, so accentuating. He looked casual and cool yet incredibly powerful and dominant with that metal arm fully on display thanks to the short sleeves. Between that damn shirt and the hard expression he wore, you were pretty much done for. It took all you might to not march over to him right that second.

Bucky appeared to be aware of all this as he turned to you, feeling your eyes wandering shamelessly over him in that shirt. He just looked so… him. Not a soldier, not some asset, just him. And he was hot.

He shot you a little smirk, making your eyes widen, suddenly unreasonably worried your boyfriend could read your mind.

You two must’ve been too caught up in your silent communication because the next thing you heard was Sam asking if you were okay.

You jumped and forced yourself to look away from Bucky. "Yeah, Sam," you nodded, "I’m fine."

He hummed, suspicious. "Are you sure?"

But before you could answer, Bucky felt it was his time to chime in. "She’s a little distracted."

Your eyes widened again, this time sending a signal to your boyfriend to shut the hell up. He wouldn’t look at you and instead just laughed to himself.

"Distracted?" Sam questioned.

"I- I’m fine, really-,"

Bucky cut you off, "Actually, I need to talk with her about something."

Your jaw went slack as you tried finding some words of explanation, something to save yourself from this situation as you could see Sam’s concern growing. But nothing was able to come out before Bucky was grabbing your hand.

"You can’t talk to her out here?" Sam asked.

Bucky shook his head, profusely. "It’s a very private matter. Incredibly serious. Just between me and her."

"Bucky-," you just about yelped as he started walking to one of the off-shoot rooms from the living space. Sam tried asking more questions but Bucky promptly shut him down by slamming the door. Hard. It was a miracle the thing didn’t just fall right off its hinges. For whatever reason, that suddenly turned you on even more.

You stood there in the middle of the room watching as Bucky slowly turned to you. He had a playful glimmer in his eyes as he took in your nervous yet needy state. Your thighs were practically in pain from how hard you were trying to squeeze them together, wanting some relief to your core that was set ablaze by him. Him and that damn outfit. That damn hair. His damn face- God, you just needed your boyfriend right now.

Bucky walked towards you slowly, intensely. You tried averting your eyes to save yourself from crumbling but he stopped you. His fingers came to your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He appeared to be just as eager.

"What happened back there, doll?" He asked just barely above a whisper. He held your chin firmly.

"What- What do you-,"

He chuckled. The fucker chuckled at your flustered state. "What do I mean? I mean that look you were giving me. How those eyes were peeling off my clothing piece by piece. Made me want to take you right there."

Bucky’s words went straight to your core. The wetness was pooling profusely, practically soaking through your jeans. You let out a little whimper as his thumb brushed over your lip.

"It’s your tee-shirt," you whispered, surprised that you could even find any sort of words in your dazed brain. He was way too intoxicating.

Bucky’s face shifted in surprise. "My shirt?"

You nodded. "It just… looks good on you."

He couldn’t help but let out another chuckle. You pouted at his reaction which he took as the opportunity to quickly place a kiss on your lips. You tried moving into him, grinding your body with his to beg for more, but he stopped, forcing you two apart.

"Oh, doll," he mumbled as his hand left your chin and slowly made its way down your body. Over the curve of your clothed breast, down your stomach, to your hips… the hand finally dipped under the waistline of your jeans. Without much warning, two fingers traced your folds, dipping slightly in to collect the wetness. He gave a few thrust, teasingly. Bucky groaned. "You’re this wet just from how I look in my shirt?"

You gasped, nodding. Embarrassment wanted to coarse through you but the pleasure from Bucky tracing his fingers to your clit was too much. Slowly, he started with circular motions, making your body jolt. You squealed in surprise. Bucky smiled down at your reaction.

He kept it up, adding pressure every now and then as he continued. Your legs began to shake forcing you to grip his arms in support. Bucky noticed this and brought his metal hand to your hip, steadying you.

He picked up the pace, his eyes boring into yours intensely. You let out a breathy moan at the sight of him, looking at you so hungry and aroused.

"Come on, honey, cum for me," he mumbled, still working on your clit. Every now and then he’d stop to dip a finger in as if gaging your wetness. In those moments you’d groan, waiting for the contact to come back. He never let you suffer long, though, finding his way back to your clit quickly, keeping the pressured motions. "Be a good girl and cum for me, doll, and I’ll fuck you real nice against the wall just like you deserve."

That was the final straw. His words alone practically sent you over the edge. Your body shook as the first orgasm pulled through you, lighting fire throughout your body. Your hips bucked and twisted uncontrollably, almost trying to get away from the touch but Bucky didn’t lighten up. He worked you through it, whispering sweet praises in your ear, making you lose it even more.

Once you came down from the high, Bucky wasted absolutely no time gripping your hips and pushing your back to the nearest wall. You yelped in surprise before his lips attached to yours, rough and demanding.

He lifted you up and grabbed your legs, circling them around your waist. You took the opportunity to grind into him feeling his erection hit your covered core. It lit a new fire in you making you gasp at the feeling.

Bucky moved his lips down your face to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You whined and grabbed onto that fucking tee shirt, still trying to push into him, wordlessly begging him to speed up.

"Eager, doll?" Bucky asked. You could practically hear the dumb smile on his face and it made you want to slap it off. But all you could do in response was nod.

He placed one more kiss on your lips before his hand made its way back down your body. This time he popped the buttons of your jeans open. Briefly, he placed you back down to pull your jeans to your ankles. When that task was done, you were back wrapped around his waist, now feeling the erection more prominently. You let out a deep, uncontrollable moan when it hit.

As if he understood your annoyance, Bucky quickly undid his own jeans. In your dazed state, you must’ve zoned out because the next thing you knew, your panties were just pushed to the side and his cock was breaching your walls. You two were in sync letting our moans and groans at the warmth, the wetness.

His arms held you tight as he began his thrusts, so precise and strong. You were backed into the wall forcefully, enjoying the pressure and pleasure combining into one. Your boyfriend groaned above you, sounds going right to your core which was made evident by the squelching sounding in the room.

Bucky kept his thrusts up as his metal hand left your hip and made its way to your clit. His body held you up with his other arm, giving you a second to marvel in his strength. It was always such a treat when it came out in the bedroom. How he could hold you down or hold you up had your mind spinning half the time.

As his thrusts began to pick up, his metal hand started with the circular motions again on your clit. The coldness meeting your warmth was enough to drive you crazy. Your hands fisted his shirt, trying to keep yourself grounded. You let out a surprised moan at the whole sensation which Bucky seemed to like as he gripped you harder. Your brain was going fuzzy, drunk even, as he pounded you into the wall flawlessly.

"Bucky… B-Bucky…" you choked out.

"Hmm?" You could tell he was staring at you despite your eyes being fluttered shut. He was taking in every inch of your face contorting in glorious pleasure. It seemed to drive his thrusts faster, the circular motions on your clit picking up as well.

"I- I’m gonna-,"

"You gonna cum again, doll?" He asked, a little mockingly. You would’ve bit back if you weren’t in this state but you couldn’t do anything, just take what he was giving. You nodded weakly. "Alright, honey, that’s it… Cum for me, come on. I got you."

It was like Bucky flipped that last switch as his strength and speed picked up. You yelped, clinging to his shirt even tighter.

One final push on your clit was all you needed before you were crumbling in his arms. Your body shook as your orgasm flooded you with ecstasy. Bucky didn’t want to let up with the trusts, though, chasing his own orgasm and thoroughly working you through your second. He kept pounding, his hand opting to leave your clit to grope at your breasts under your shirt. The metal hitting your skin in a new place made you squeal again.

The sounds and motions were it for Bucky as the next thing you knew, he released inside you, coating your walls and thrusting in and out, letting it leak onto your skin. You moaned at the sensation.

Bucky gave a couple more weak thrusts before he let out a final groan and stilled inside you. Both his arms now were around your waist, pulling you close as you two panted, coming down from the pleasure.

Bucky leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder. Your hands left his shirt and came up to his hair, where you ran them through his short locks.

"Was that what you needed, doll?" He asked, voice breaking through the heaviness of the room.

You giggled, "Exactly what I needed."

"Hmm," he sighed and straightened back up. He pecked your lips. "Guess I gotta wear this shirt more often."

You gasped, slapping his chest lightly as he laughed. But you couldn’t totally disagree. "I wouldn’t complain if it made an appearance every now and then."

Bucky shook his head, "I don’t understand how a black tee shirt can get you going, doll."

After he spoke, he slowly removed himself from you, letting you down from the wall. Warm wetness began soaking your thighs feeling so intimate, so hot, it almost made you almost suggest round two right then and there but that didn’t seem on the table after Bucky handed you some tissues to clean up. Not to mention the fact there were people in the living area.

You shrugged, readjusting your shirt and pulling your jeans back on. You watched as Bucky also readjusted his appearance. "It’s because it’s on you," you insisted. "You could walk around in the most ridiculous outfits and I’d still beg you to jump my bones."

Bucky let out the most joyous laugh at that. He walked back towards you, securely wrapping his arms around your waist. You placed a kiss on his lips, which he hummed happily into.

"I’m flattered," he mumbled. The light blush across his cheeks confirmed his words.

You smiled, "What can I say? I got a hot boyfriend and he should know it."

Bucky placed another kiss on your lips. "Oh, trust me, I think he knows it now."

You let out a giggle and pulled away from his grip, despite a little protest. "Come on," you said and motioned towards the door, "we should probably leave this room before we get any shit from them."

"Oh, you’re getting a lot of shit once you come out of that room," Sam called from the other side of the door, making both you and Bucky jump. "Might as well stay in here."

You groaned at the words, your face and neck suddenly becoming hot in embarrassment. Bucky just chuckled, somehow finding everything amusing, and wrapped an arm around you.

"Worth it, though," he whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t at all argue. Just glancing between the wall and that black tee made you suddenly hot and bothered all over again.

Bucky picked up on your gaze, once again practically reading your mind. With a suggestive smirk, he asked, "Round two?"

You bit your lip as his hand began running over the curve of your ass.

"Fine."

Bucky didn’t waste a single second before whisking you off your feet

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #writing*#fluff #slight tfatws spoilers

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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years

Text

i’m begging for you (take my hand)

this fic has 18+ content! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. this is for your safety and mine! please respect that.

by continuing to read you are stating that you are over eighteen and understand this content is not meant for minors.

summary // bucky doesn’t do love, you love bucky. being friends with benefits makes sense, right? [bucky barnes x female!reader]

words // 19.0k (BUCKLE UP IT’S A LONG ONE)

warnings // modern!bucky, fwb! trope, brief love triangle (steve x reader x bucky), overall toxicity, cursing, daddy issues (bucky’s dad left), drinking, excessive use of nicknames (sweetheart/sweets/baby), oral sex (f! receiving), penetrative sex, unsafe sex (do not have unprotected sex!), spitting, thigh riding, bucky has a metal arm but it’s not explained why (it was a car accident & that is already known by reader)

notes // title from willow by taylor swift (this fic was originally titled heartbeat and inspired by childish gambino’s song of the same name) i just could not get modern bucky not knowing how to deal with feelings out of my head & it became this catastrophe [ive never written 18+ before so pls be gentle in your judgement of those scenes omg] happy reading!

if you enjoy this, reblogs & replies are greatly appreciated (especially when pieces take this much work)

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

“To Bucky Barnes, my now forever lawyer.” You hold out your wine glass and he meets you halfway in a cheers. Bucky laughs brightly as you praise him. “And now my sugar daddy, since he makes an insane amount of money as senior associate.”

The two of you are halfway through your second bottle of wine. “I’ve been a lawyer for four years. I’m just now becoming your go-to?” He holds a hand to his chest in faux hurt.

You lean towards him as you laugh. “I needed to make sure you were a good lawyer. Get me off murder charges good.” It feels like the two of you have been scooting closer to each other all night.

“Sweetheart, you know I’d be there to help you hide the body if you needed me to.” He leans towards you in a conspiratorial whisper. Your eyes move from his eyes to his lips before snapping back up. “Then get you off the charges.” He breathes out.

You can feel his breath on your face. The scent of red wine hits your noise and you can see it staining his lips. You want to kiss him so desperately, but you just can’t make the first move. You don’t think you could handle that rejection.

“I’m gonna kiss you.” He says quietly, his eyes scanning over your face for any sign of rejection. You swallow thickly before nodding. “Okay.” You whisper back before letting out a nervous giggle.

Bucky’s hand comes up to rest against your cheek. Its coldness relieves some of the heat that’s risen to underneath your skin from his proximity and the wine you’ve consumed.

Your eyes slide shut as he leans in. His nose nudging against yours before you feel his lips. You bring your hand up to rest on his chest. His lips are softer than you expected and taste like the wine they’re stained with. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of when dreaming of kissing Bucky.

He pulls away and looks at you with half lidded eyes. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbles. You feel heat crawl up the back of your neck at the honesty in his tone. He presses a kiss against your jaw. Then your neck. Your head falls to the side to allow him better access.

It’s easy to move into his lap when his hands grip at your hips. “Fuck.” Bucky moans as you grind down against him. You throw your head back in a moan as his lips trail down from your jaw to your neck.

“Shit.” You say breathlessly as his hands run up and down your sides. Your hands drop down and begin to work on his jeans button and zipper. Bucky lets out a groan when they brush against his already hard dick.

You stand from his lap and he pulls his jeans off while you move to unbutton your top. As you work on the shirt, Bucky’s hands reach out to undo your own jeans. When you’re standing in nothing but underwear in front of him, Bucky isn’t doing anything but staring. The heat in his eyes makes you feel flush and goes straight to your core. “Fuck. You’re gorgeous.” He says quietly.

You crawl back into his lip and Bucky’s hands find you again immediately. You rub against him and both of you moan at the slight relief it offers. Bucky’s hand drifts down between you two and he begins to rub over your clothed clit.

You grind down on his hand and let out a whine. “More. More. Please.” You whisper. Bucky laughs softly at you before slipping his hand into your underwear and running a finger over your slit. “Oh my god.” Your head falls to rest on his shoulder.

“That’s it. You look so good like this, sweetheart.” He murmurs into your hair. The praise makes you moan as you grind down against him again desperate for more.

You pull back to look at him, one of your hands tangled in the hair at the back of his head. In a breathless tone you say, “Fuck me.”

Bucky groans. “Oh shit.” His hips buck up against you. “Yeah. Okay.” He pushes you off of his lap gently and moves to pull his briefs off. You follow suit and pull your underwear off.

“Come here.” He groans as he pulls you back over his lap. You giggle as he presses a flurry of kisses across your chest. He holds a hand out in front of you, “Spit.” He orders.

You glance at him in shock before following the order. His eyes roll back as he watches you before he moves to use the spit to lube himself up. “Fuck me. Please.” You whisper to him as he teases your entrance.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Bucky slips into you and you both let out loud moans. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel so good.” His forehead rests against your chest as both of you relish in the feeling for a moment. After a few seconds of shaky breathing, you yank at his hair gently so he’s forced to look at you again. A smirk spreads across his face at the feeling and you smile down at him, “Gonna fuck me? Or are we just sit here?” You tease.

Bucky’s hands grip your hips tightly and he steadies his feet on the ground. “Yeah, sweets. ‘M gonna fuck you.”

》•

Your eyes focus in on Wanda as she waves a hand in front of your face. You can feel your body grow hot at the memory of Bucky and you. “What’s on your mind? You’ve been zoning out all night.” She laughs softly.

“Bucky and I had sex last night.” You blurt out, unable to keep it to yourself any longer. You swallow tightly when Wanda’s eyes brighten in excitement before confusion takes over.

She watches your face, like she can tell something was wrong, and doesn’t move to do anything for a second. When she does speak, it’s hesitant. “You’ve liked him since we were in school. Is this good or bad?”

You frown. She was right, you had liked Bucky since he had come barreling into your life senior year of college with bright eyes, mischievous smiles and maybe too many issues to ever be in a real relationship. You had sat through his flings and tried to move on with you own, but every guy had ended up being jealous of Bucky or too boring compared to him.

“He doesn’t-” You suck in a deep breath. “He doesn’t want a relationship.” You say quietly. You take another sip of your wine when Wanda reaches over with pity filled eyes and grabs a hold of your hand.

She shakes her head like she doesn’t understand what you’ve just said to her. “What do... What do you mean?”

You run your hands over your face in despair. “I don’t... We had like two bottles of wine and we hooked up.” You look up at her with tearful eyes. “When I woke up this morning, he went on about how he loved me and he didn’t want to hurt me.”

Wanda’s watching you with wide eyes. “Start from the beginning. What did he say? Are you sure he said he doesn’t want to be in a relationship?” She’s shaking her head in disbelief.

You take a deep breath before launching into the story.

His bed is empty when you wake up. Your stomach sinks as you stare at his bedroom door left ajar. You can hear him in the kitchen talking, but you can’t quite make out what he’s saying.

You take a deep breath before getting up. You had hoped he would sleep in with you. That cuddling in the morning would lead to confessions of hidden feelings. Your hopes diminished as you creeped down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“No.” Bucky sounds anxious as he talks into the phone. “I’m telling you. I fucked up.” You step in the kitchen and he glances over his shoulder with wide eyes. “I’ve got to go. Bye.” He hangs up abruptly and turns to you with a tense smile.

You give him a small smile in return. “Morning.” You tug at the hem of his t-shirt nervously as he stares at you. “We should-”

“I wanted to-” The two of you laugh awkwardly as you speak over one another. You hold your hand towards him. “You go first.” You move to sit at one of counter’s barstools.

Bucky’s watching you with wary eyes and if his words to whoever was on that phone weren’t warning enough, this new demeanor around you certainly is. “You’re my best friend.” He comes to stand directly across from you. “And I care about you a lot. You’re one of the most important women in my life. I don’t want to ruin our relationship.”

You nod slowly as he attempts to reject you kindly. If it weren’t so painful, you might laugh at how awkward he looks. “It’s not...” You trail off unsure of what to say. “Bucky, it’s not that serious. We’re fine.” You reach your hand across the counter palm up for him to take.

His brows furrow. “You’re not mad at me?” He asks in confusion. “I thought-”

You shake your fingers and he smiles before holding your hand tightly in his. “It was consensual. With a guy I trust with my life. And it was great sex. I’m not mad at you.” You smile reassuringly.

It’s not a lie. Not at all. Everything you said was true, you had just left out the part where you had been hoping for more. But you could get over this. A one time fling. You could survive it as long as you didn’t lose him.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” Bucky’s shoulders relax. The tension on his face transforms into a cocky smirk. “Great sex?”

“That’s...” Wanda trails off as she digests your words. “Why didn’t you tell him how you feel?” She asks.

You look at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean why didn’t I tell him? Should we start with me overhearing him telling someone how much he fucked up or his rejection for dummies speech?” You laugh sarcastically.

Wanda gives you apologetic eyes. “How can you be sure he was talking to the person on the phone about you?” You scrunch your nose up at her and she sighs. “Okay, whatever. At least now you know he doesn’t want a relationship! You can move on and find someone with a bigger dick.”

“Wanda!” You can’t help but laugh. You give her an appreciative smile before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know... I guess I just always thought we’d end up together. It’s stupid.”

You trace your finger around the base of your wine glass. Wanda watches you for a moment before flagging down a waitress. She looks at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Can I get a round of tequila shots, please?” She asks.

The waitress nods before walking away. “We’re going to get you drunk and make you forget all about Bucky Barnes.”

You laugh softly. “Yes please.”

》

Four glasses of wine and two rounds of shots leaves you struggling to get the key into your apartment door’s lock.

“Fuck.” You mutter when you push too hard and the keys clatter against the floor. You sigh deeply before bending down to pick them. You lay one palm flat against your door in an attempt to steady your shaky feet as the other reaches for your keys.

Then you’re falling forward and your shoulder hits the floor harshly. “Jesus, sweetheart. I thought you were some weirdo trying to break in.” You groan as you look up and see Bucky staring down at you with furrowed brows.

He’s wearing nothing but sweatpants, his metal arm and abs on full display for you. You give him a dopey smile. “Hey, handsome.”

He laughs loudly. It’s bright and contagious and makes you giggle as he bends down to lift you to your feet. “Missed you tonight.” He says softly as he wraps his arm around your waist.

You allow yourself to rest your bodyweight on him, knowing he’s strong enough to lead you to your room. His soft words leave you feeling like you’re floating. It’s like the night before had never happened.

“Missed you too.” You whisper. Your words are slurred, not that you can change that, but you know he understands them. He presses a kiss to your head in response as he leads you down the hall and into a room.

The room is spinning around you, but you know it’s Bucky’s from the blank walls and dark furniture. Bucky sits you down on the edge of his bed and your fingers immediately grip his comforter tightly. “Why’d you bring me here?” Your grip is the only thing that keeps you from falling backwards onto his bed.

You try to focus your eyes on him, but he’s moving around the room too fast. From what you think is his dresser then his closet. “I’ve got to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit tonight.”

“‘M not gonna get sick.” You mumble as he comes to a stop in front of you. He holds out a pile of clothes to you. “I have my own clothes in my own room.” You stare up at him defiantly.

You can see Bucky push his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a tell that he was getting a little annoyed. “C’mon sweets. Just put the clothes on and get in bed.”

He’s still holding the clothes out in front of you. His earlier rejection running through your mind. “I’m not having sex with you tonight.” You blurt out. You would have never said the words sober, but you didn’t want him to think it would become a recurring thing.

Bucky laughs awkwardly and drops the clothes on the bed beside you. “I’m not trying to have sex with you. I’m trying to take care of you and make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

Your eyes narrow, but you feel far too dizzy to actually get up and move to your room to prove a point. You lift your arms and look up at Bucky, “Help?”

He smiles victoriously and reaches for the hem of your shirt. You can see his eyes trail over your bralette and feel your cheeks warm, but you blame that on the alcohol.

“Do you want to sleep in this?” He whispers as his fingers trail over one of the straps. You shiver as one of his cold fingers presses into your skin and leaves goosebumps in its wake.

You bite down on your lip, but nod your head. “I’ll be fine in it.”

He nods and you raise your arms again as he slips one of his black t-shirts onto you. It’s soft and smells like him leaving you warm all over and suddenly tired. Your head falls so your chin is resting against your chest.

Bucky kneels down in front of you. “Is it okay if I take your jeans off? So I can put sweatpants on you?” He moves his head so you’re forced to make eye contact with him as his hands come to rest on your stomach. He fiddles with your jean’s button, but doesn’t move to actually undo it yet.

You nod softly before falling backwards onto the bed. Bucky’s hands move quickly as he unbuttons and unzips your jeans. There’s a sharp inhale once he gets your jeans off, but you ignore it.

“Sweetheart.” You lift your hips when you feel his sweatpants get stuck underneath you. “Thank you.” He says quietly.

“What did you do tonight?” You mumble as you move around his bed to crawl under the comforter. You wait until he’s situated beside you before pulling the blanket up to cover the bottom half of your face.

He pulls the blanket down and holds out a wipe. “You complain when I let you fall asleep with the makeup.”

Your eyes flicker to his in brief shock, unaware of how much he actually listened to you. “Than...Thank you.” You begin to wipe it across your face. It’s not your normal routine, but it was better than nothing. “Tell me about your night.”

Bucky moves so he’s sitting against his headboard. “I just waited for you all night.” He shrugs.

You drop the wipe onto the side table. “Shut up. What did you really do?” You shove gently at his shoulder. Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you into him.

He’s stronger when you’re sober, so your drunk body falls into his side easily and you wrap an arm around his waist. “I’m telling you the truth, sweets. I just waited all night for you.” He presses a kiss to your temple.

You look up from his chest to find him looking down at you with soft eyes. He’s being kind and you’re sure all that he can think of is how happy he is that your friendship hasn’t been ruined.

But all you can think about is how no matter how soft he is with you, he still doesn’t want to be with you. No matter how much he says he loves you and misses you, it’s not the sam way you mean it. It leaves a crack in your heart that you’re unsure will ever be healed.

》•

She’s pretty. You think bitterly as you watch from across the room.

Bucky’s firm had a party every few months for donors. Bucky hated them. He always complained that schmoozing wasn’t his specialty, law was, so you were usually dragged along as his plus one to “Keep me from dying of boredom, please.”

You usually didn’t mind. Bucky flirted for money, you got to enjoy to open bar to cope with his non-existent feelings for you. Tonight felt even worse.

You force yourself to look away and look back down at the drink in front of you. You’re glad Wanda isn’t there to look at you with the same pity filled eyes that you had been getting since revealing the details of your hook up, but you wish you had someone to turn to.

“You look great in that dress.” Your head whips up at the familiar voice. Steve is smiling at you sweetly and you can tell he’s keeping his eyes respectfully on yours. “Definitely your color.”

You laugh. You and Steve weren’t particularly close, he was a childhood friend and you were college. The two of you really only spent time together in groups or with Bucky there. “Thank you, Mr. Rogers.” You tease.

“Please.” He throws his head back in an over dramatic groan. “Steve! So many people have called me Mr. Rogers tonight I’m going to fall into an identity crisis.”

You give him an ill-suppressed smile. “Thank you, Steve.” He sits down in the barstool next to you and waves the bartender over.

“Water for me and…” He glances at the empty glass in front of you, “another glass of wine for her?” His voice ends in a question and he smiles brightly when you nod.

“I could be wrong, but aren’t you supposed to be flirting with rich women to fund your pro bono cases?” You run a finger around the base of your glass.

Steve’s eyes trail from your manicured nails up to your teasing smile. He swallows and forces out a soft laugh. “I’m not too good at the flirting that’s uh-.” He looks over his shoulder before looking back at you with kind eyes.

You ignore his insinuation. Ignore the idea of Bucky and Steve feeling pity for you over Bucky. “Everyone deserves a break.”

The man in front of you gives you a relieved smile. “And what better way to take a break than talk to a pretty girl?”

You smile sweetly. “You could get 100k easily with that charm.” Steve throws his head back in a laugh and his arm lands on the back of your seat when he leans back in.

You find yourself leaning in too. He’s got a nice laugh and sweet personality. You can feel the warmth radiating off of him and it’s relaxing.

For a moment, Bucky is forgotten as Steve gives you all his attention, the first person to do so all night.

》•

Bucky stops to stand next to Sam as he takes a sip of his drink. His eyes scan over the party in search of you.

“Good for Steve.” Sam says into his glass before taking a sip of his drink. Bucky’s eyes cut to him in question. Sam nods in front of him and Bucky’s eyes settle on you at the bar. With Steve.

“What do you mean good for Steve?” Bucky asks. He can’t take his eyes off of you as Steve slides a glass of wine towards you.

Sam shrugs nonchalantly. “He’s had a crush on her since that Halloween party last year.”

Bucky’s mind drifts to you in your skin tight superhero costume. He wasn’t blind, he had seen the guys who had come up to you and their eyes that had trailed after you.

“He hasn’t said anything to me.” He feels a surge of pride at the fact that he can’t explain when he thinks of how at the end of the night, you had come home alone with him, content to sit on the couch and watch horror movies. “He’s not her type.” He adds on after a moment of silence.

Bucky isn’t too confident in his words though. Steve seemed to be the perfect kind of guy for you. Kind, funny, made good money, and was always the guy who listened with open ears. Bucky just couldn’t fathom you with anybody that… He doesn’t know, but he knows Steve doesn’t feel right.

Sam snorts. “Yeah. Try telling you about wanting to take her out? He’d rather live.” Bucky watches as Steve leans in closer to whisper something into your ear.

He feels rage surge through him, but forces himself to stay in his spot. “Not like we’re dating. He could have told me if he wanted to. Or made a move.” He wasn’t sure why he felt so angry about you and Steve. It wasn’t like you two were dating, he hadn’t lied to Sam.

Sam looks at Bucky like he’s grown two heads. “Come on, Buck. Not dating? You call her all these nicknames, never let other people flirt with her, always take her home.”

“We live together.” Bucky defends weakly. His mind drifts to kissing you while wine drunk. He shakes his head. “Of course I take her home.”

Sam looks a little bemused as he asks, “Are you two seriously not dating?”

“Of course not! She’s my best friend.” He glances at Sam before looking back over at Steve. You’re leaning in too. It’s not like he was lying, the two of you weren’t dating. But he had brought you as his date tonight and he’ll be damned if Steve weasels his way into your heart.

“I was just cur-“ Bucky shoves his empty glass into Sam’s hand before beginning to make his way through the crowd towards you.

He can vaguely hear Sam shout a goodbye, but all he can focus on is getting your attention onto him and off of Steve.

》

You feel him before you see him. His hand trailing up your back before landing on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. His grip isn’t tight, but it makes you shiver.

“What’s going on here?” His voice is a possessive drawl and you look up at him with a confused smile.

You sit up straighter and Steve immediately pulls away. His blue eyes follow Bucky’s arm to his face and they narrow. “Just keeping her company. Noticed you were busy, so…” Steve trails off with a shrug.

Bucky’s grip on you tightens. “Well, I’m here now. You can go back to schmoozing.” He nods his head in the direction of the party, but Steve doesn’t budge.

You’re extremely confused by Bucky’s sudden possessiveness over your attention and turn to him with an annoyed glare. “Actually, Steve was telling me about how that’s your specialty. He’s far too sweet to mindlessly flirt. ”

You feel Steve’s shocked gaze on you, because he had definitely not said that, but you don’t look away from Bucky. His glare melts into a sickly sweet smile as he turns to look at his childhood friend. “That so?”

Part of you feels bad for pushing Steve into the middle of whatever this tension was between you and Bucky. But you can’t ignore the pleasure that rushes through you as Bucky’s grip tightens and his attention focuses solely on you for the first time all night.

Steve looks back and forth between you two before he stands from his seat. “It was nice seeing you.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek before slapping a hand against Bucky’s back. “See you later, punk.”

You swallow as Bucky moves to take Steve’s now unoccupied seat. He orders a drink and you can only watch in shock as moves around so casually. When he finally looks back at you he just looks confused by your silence.

“What’s up?” He asks with a smile.

You roll your eyes at him. “What was that?” You gesture in the direction Steve had gone before looking at him with wide eyes.

Bucky looks down at his drink and shrugs. “Didn’t want anyone bothering you.”

“Anyone bothering me? That was Steve!” You laugh incredulously. “I know Steve. You know Steve. He was keeping me company.” You can’t wrap your head around his random behavior.

Bucky shakes his head like you’re the one who’s being confusing and acting weird. “You just looked a little uncomfortable. I came to your rescue.” He gulps down the rest of his drink.

“My rescue?” You shake your head at him. “Buck, it was Steve. Steve Rogers is one of the most polite men in New York.”

Bucky shakes his head. “He likes you. Sam said he was definitely trying to make a move on you.” He immediately feels bad for blurting out Steve’s secret, but he just can’t let it go.

You scrunch your face up in confusion before letting out a breath. “That’s not your secret to tell.” You grab your clutch and stand up quickly. “Why would that even matter anyways?” You look down at him now, he’s still sitting on the barstool. He won’t look up at you.

“Can we just go home?” He asks quietly as he taps his fingers against the bar counter. You bite down on your lip before finally nodding. “Fine.” He lets out a sigh before standing to follow you.

You’re shocked when you feel his fingers slip in between yours as the two of you walk towards the elevators. Holding hands with Bucky wasn’t new, per say, you’d done it at bars to get out of creepy guys flirting with you, amusement parks so as to not lose one another, but this… This felt different, softer and more insecure.

You swallow before squeezing his hand in return. You hear the relieved breath he lets out as the two of you stop in front of the closed elevator doors.

He whispers your name with a tug of your hand. You turn to look at him as the two of you step into the empty elevator. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to screw things up with Steve. I just… I don’t know.”

Your heart breaks a little. You weren’t sure what you expected. Maybe an admission of jealousy, that Bucky realized he didn't want you with Steve or any other guy, he wanted you with him. But the words never came and you feel stupid for letting your hopes get the best of you.

You shrug. “It’s fine, Buck.” The elevator is slow in its descent. You almost groan when you see how high you are and the fifteen floors left to go down. “I don’t like Steve… I just… It was nice to have some company. You were busy all night.”

You try to hide the emotion in your voice, but Bucky can hear it. He can see it too, written on your face as you try to keep your eyes on the descending numbers.

Your words cause a wave of relief to crash over him. You didn’t like Steve. You didn’t like Steve. He felt bad for his friend, but not bad enough to stop his next move.

He tugs at your hand again. The elevator is almost all the way down if you could just ignore him for a few more seconds-

His lips are on yours before you even have a chance to think about why he’s pulling you towards him. You’re still with shock, your hands clasped between you two, as Bucky kisses you.

You don’t kiss back, too stunned to. Bucky pulls back when the elevator finally dings and you try to rush out only to be stopped when you realize you’re still attached to Bucky’s hand.

“What the fuck was that?” You hiss. “You can’t just… Just flip out about Steve flirting, tell me you’re not jealous and then kiss me!” You yell.

Bucky swallows thickly and glances around the empty lobby. “I… It…”

You stare at him with lifted brows waiting for an explanation. “You need to figure your shit out, Buck. I said I was fine if you wanted it to be a one time thing but I’m not here for you to yank around.”

“I’m not trying to yank you around!” Bucky defends. “I just… What if it wasn’t just a one time thing?” He asks quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

You want to cry. “Wh...What?” You ask with a shake of your head.

“I feel like such a dick.” He admits taking a hesitant step closer to you. When you don’t move away, he places a hand on your cheek. “Stuff with work has been so stressful lately and… and I never have the time or energy to do anything. The other night, with you, was the most relaxed I’ve been in a while.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve been thinking of us helping each other out.”

“Like a friends with benefits thing?” You blurt out when you realize where he was going with this.

He nods. “I just… Got to thinking after you left that morning. It was great sex, best I’ve had in a while.” You swallow and your eyes dart away a little embarrassed. “And I know you and don’t have to worry about you giving me some disease. We live together and we wouldn’t have to go out or wait for some random hook up.”

You can’t really wrap your head around his words. “But you don’t want… You don’t want to have a relationship?”

“You know me.” He laughs tensely. “Not a relationship guy. I love you, you’re my best friend, but-“

“That’s good.” Your blurt, already regretting the words. “I mean, I love you, you’re my best friend too, you know? Neither of us really have time for one anyways and… Life is stressful.”

“You… You want to? Do the benefits thing?” Bucky looks like he can’t believe that you’re agreeing. Quite honestly, you can’t really believe the words coming out of your mouth either.

Because you liked Bucky. You had for so long now it felt like it was a piece of you. You were sure you loved him. You were sure he didn’t feel the same way and this… This was a way to be with him, no matter how fucked up it may be.

And life was stressful. A full time job with New York City rent and bills. You hated going out. You hate hook ups, they always left you disgruntled and disappointed. Bucky had… Bucky had been good. The best, probably. And it would be nice to have someone other than yourself every once in a while.

“Yeah.” You whisper. “I… I want to. I’m kind of sick of my hand.”

Bucky snorts then laughs and it immediately calms you down. He was still your Bucky. Just with the added bonus of sex. “Me too, sweets.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you into a hug. You suck in a deep breath. “I think you said something about going home.” You mumble into his suit jacket.

“Yeah.” He whispers back, tilting your chin up to look up. He smirks down at you. “I did.”

》

“Fuck. Fuck.” You moan as Bucky kisses down your chest. “Please, Buck.” You whimper when his right hand comes up and begins to play with your nipple.

He doesn’t respond, his tongue flicking over your other nipple. You’re arching your back into him, it feels good, but you want more. His left hand is settled on your hip and you want it on you in a different way.

You groan when he pulls away to look at you. “What do you want, sweetheart? You gotta tell me or I won’t be able to give it to you.” His tone is sweet, but he’s looking at you with blown pupils and a cocky smile.

“Your fingers, Buck, please.” You try to lift your hips up a little, but his left hand keeps you pressed against his mattress. You look at him pleadingly when he still doesn’t move. “Please, James.” You murmur.

You didn’t call him by his first name often, he had introduced himself as Bucky and you hadn’t even learned it until a few months later. Sometimes you pulled it out to tease him, but tonight… You wanted to see if it would push him.

“Fuck.” He mutters, leaning over you and beginning to press a line of kisses down your stomach all the way to your pelvic bone. “Fuck, that’s hot. Say it again.”

You throw your head back in a moan when his hand begins to rub you through your panties. “James. I need you to-“

“Gonna give you more than my fingers, sweets.” He hooks fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down. “Finally gonna get a taste of you, if that’s okay.” He glances at you and you nod hastily.

“God. Yes, please.” Your eyes flutter shut as his hands force your thighs open. His grip on you is tight and harsh and makes your entire body tingle.

“So pretty.” He murmurs just watching you. If you weren’t so turned on you would be embarrassed by his stare, but his words just make you even more desperate for him. He settles on his stomach, head between your thighs. He begins to bite and kiss his way up your inner thigh. “Been thinking about this since you let me fuck you, sweetheart.” He admits in a murmur before finally putting his mouth on you. “Thinking about how you taste.”

“Oh shit.” You moan, a combination of the pleasure of his tongue and his words giving you butterflies. “Yes. Fuck.”

“Knew you’d taste good.” He moans, the words go straight to your core and he knows it. He knows what he’s doing. His hands gripping at your hips tightly, thumbs rubbing calming circles into your skin. He flicks his tongue over your sensitive spot and your back arches. “So good.” You murmur breathily. Your hands are clutching the bed sheets as you try to grind your hips up.

Bucky pulls one hand away, it gives you a little more freedom to move but not much, and begins to tease you with a finger.

“Yes. Please, your fingers.” You beg him. Bucky chuckles against you, sending hot breath and a small vibration straight to your core. It feels good, he’s good.

He pulls away slightly and you whine. “Come on, sweets.” He urges, pushing his finger into you. You moan at the feeling. “What happened to calling me James? Said I liked it.” He adds another, your slick heat allowing them easily.

“James.” You look down at him with blown pupils. Bucky almost comes right there, his fingers inside of you, your chest heaving and you looking at him like that. “James. Please. Want your mouth on me again.”

Now that you’ve started saying his name, it’s like you can’t stop. The name tumbles out of your mouth like a prayer. He rewards you for it though, his mouth is back on you, licking over you steadily, and you can feel the tension in your stomach the closer and closer you get.

“So good.” Bucky murmurs into your skin. You moan out again. “Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” He pulls away to ask, his breath fanning across your skin. Your hips buck up towards him in desperation and Bucky groans. “Come on, sweets. Can you come for me? Please.”

He curves his fingers and flicks his tongue over your already sensitive bud again and your back arches. “Fuck. Fuck.” You moan as your orgasm washes over you. Bucky works you through it and your legs are shaking by the time he pulls his mouth away to smile cheekily at you.

“I like it when you call me James.” He whispers as he crawls up towards you. You roll you eyes with a tired smile. He fingers trace circles over you stomach. “You tired?”

You nod your head. Your eyes trail over his body, his hard dick making an obvious tent in his briefs. You smirk at him, your hand moving to trail down from his stomach to his dick. Bucky moans as your hand grips him.

“Still want you to fuck me though.”

》•

Bucky thinks maybe the two of you should establish some ground rules. No dates, if you sleep with somebody else let the other know, use protection, don’t fall asleep together.

But he can’t imagine the two of you not having your regular Sunday breakfasts together after his runs or forcing you out of his room when the two of you had shared beds long before this ever happened.

So, he ignores it. He decides to enjoy your warmth in his bed and assumes you’re not seeing anybody else. It’s good. It works, even if his friends think he’s being an idiot.

Steve is on one side while Sam is on his other and they’ve both been standing in silence now that Bucky has finished explaining what happened when the two of you left the party.

He feels bad when he sees Sam’s eyes flicker to Steve in confusion, but Steve’s face holds more pity than annoyance. It makes Bucky feel uncomfortable in his spot as he takes a sip of water.

“I don’t understand why you’re not calling her your girlfriend.” Steve finally says.

Bucky rolls his shoulders with an annoyed sigh. “I just said. We’re both busy with work and friends, there’s no time for relationships. This works for the both of us. We don’t have to rely on shitty hookups and we trust each other.”

Steve gives Bucky a look that screams you’re an idiot while Sam just laughs loudly. “You have to know how ridiculous that sounds, dude.” Sam slaps a hand against Bucky’s back. “You guys live together. You have all the time in the world to actually date each other. I thought you guys were dating each other with how you act. you’re having sex now and you still won’t call her your girlfriend?” He asks incredulously.

“I...I don’t want a relationship. It leads to marriage and kids and fights.” Bucky shudders. “No thanks. This way I get great sex and my best friend.”

Steve sighs heavily. “She deserves better than that, Buck. You know that.” His voice is full of disappointment. The same tone Bucky has been getting for years when it came to his relationships.

“Like you?” His tone is defensive and his words are meaner than they should be. Bucky knows all Steve wants is for his friends to be happy. “She’s a grown woman. She can decide who she wants to have sex with.”

“Come on, Buck. You’re not an idiot. She’s had a crush on you for years.” Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is a great way to drive her away and lose her for good.”

“I’m not-”

“All,” Steve raises his voice to cut Bucky off, “I’m saying is she’ll figure out this isn’t what she wants and find someone who can give it to her. Then you’ll be left in the dust realizing what an idiot you were for letting your irrational fears talk you out of being with her.”

Bucky runs his tongue over his lips. “Who? Are you gonna steal her?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Will it be stealing when you’re the one who drives her away?”

》

His bed is empty when you wake up, but that’s no surprise, you knew Bucky ran Sunday mornings with the guys. You almost expect to feel more shame or pain over falling into this friends with benefits thing. But, you feel okay. Bucky was still your best friend. Just with mind-blowing sex. He didn’t kick you out at night and didn’t seem put off by you.

Your phone vibrates somewhere in his room from the inside of your clutch. You groan and finally move to sit up. Bucky has picked your things up and folded everything into a neat pile on the top of his dresser. Your clutch is sitting on the top of the pile and you can see the vibrations of your phone shaking it slightly.

You pick his shirt up from the floor and slide it on before reaching for your underwear underneath the clutch.

When you pull your phone out you see a few missed calls from Wanda, one last night the one you’ve just missed. You crawl into Bucky’s bed again and call her back.

“Hey!” You smile at Wanda’s voice. “I called you last night, but I forgot you had that lawyer thing.” You can imagine her nose scrunching up in disgust at the idea.

You mess with a loose thread on the comforter. “Yeah. Buck dragged me along.” There’s silence on the other end. You sigh heavily. “Shit. Wanda. You’ll never guess what I did last night.”

Your eyes take in the room. Bucky doesn’t have many decorations or knick knacks, but he has a couple pictures sitting on his nightstand. You move to his side of the bed and pick one of them up.

“You go home together?” Wanda doesn’t need to guess, there’s a twinge of disappointment in her voice but all you can focus on is the sadness you hear. Like she’s just hurting for you at this point.

You stare down at the photo in your hand. It’s from Bucky’s last birthday. “We live together.” You defect. The photo is the two of you sitting at your kitchen counter with two glasses of wine in front of you. The wine is red and you can faintly see it staining both of your lips. His arm is wrapped loosely around your waist and you’re pressing a kiss his cheek. The photo makes your heart ache. “You sleep in your room?” Wanda laughs. You drop the photo on the bed in front of you. “You’ve gotta tell him. Tell him how you feel, really.” She urges you.

You’re shaking your head even though she can’t see you. “It’ll ruin everything.” You say quietly. Losing him would be worse than loving him like this. “We... We agreed on a benefits thing last night. I think it can work.”

“That’s a great way to get hurt.” Wanda says. You glance at the other picture he has sitting on his nightstand.

It’s a photo of him and Steve. The two of them are children standing with hands wrapped tightly around the straps of their backpacks and they’ve got bright smiles on their faces. You smile at the sight, both boys happy, carefree and full of life.

Bucky’s left arm is still flesh in the photograph. He doesn’t talk about the accident much, he had come out with one arm and a completely changed person. Sometimes you wonder if things would be different if it had never happened.

You hear the front door slam shut. “I’ve gotta go! I’ll talk to you later.” You hang up before Wanda can say anything else. You leave the picture frame sitting in the bed, moving quickly from Bucky’s room to your own.

》•

Bucky’s bedroom door is open when he gets home, but you’re nowhere to be found. Your clothes still sit on his dresser and there’s a picture frame partially covered by his comforter that makes Bucky pause.

It’s his favorite picture of you two, wine stained lips and happiness radiating off of you. He wonders what had made you grab it and what had made you drop it. Steve’s words come to mind she’s had a crush on you for years.

Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He had seen the nervous smiles and bright eyes in college, he had done everything he could to stay just friends with you and it had seemed to work. You had moved on. Boyfriends and flings had come and gone, your eyes had shifted into a caring stare and you stopped nervously fidgeting with your hands around him, so Bucky had assumed your crush went away. Even now there was nothing that really stood out as you liking him. It sounded like Steve was making assumptions to mess with Bucky’s head. And it was working.

He stares at the picture for another moment before placing it back on his nightstand. Bucky wasn’t afraid of relationships, Steve was wrong, he just hated how they ended. He wasn’t afraid of holding hands or expensive dates, he was afraid of the unavoidable hurt and falling out of love that would cause him to lose you.

He couldn’t lose you.

“Bucky?” Your voice jolts him from his thoughts and his head turns from the photo to you, standing in his doorway in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair shorts. “What should we order for lunch?”

Bucky lets out a deep breath before smiling up at you. “We should get some wraps from that cafe down the block.”

“That sounds good.” You smile. Your eyes move over him and Bucky has to look away. You’ve always been good at studying him and knowing if something was up. “Everything okay?”

Bucky shakes his head. “I’m just thinking.” He offers a tense smile that makes you step further into his room. Bucky’s eyes move from your bare feet up your legs to your face that’s watching him with concerned eyes.

“That can’t be good.” You tease as you take a seat next to him. You rest your head against his shoulder and Bucky feels a little calmer with you next to him. “What’s got you spacing out like that, Buck?” You ask gently.

“You’re not…” Bucky swallows thickly and looks down at his lap. “You’re not gonna leave me, right? This isn’t gonna fuck us up?”

He feels you tense against his side and begins to panic until your hand intwines with his. “Not if we promise not to let it fuck us up. You’re my best friend, Buck. I don’t wanna lose you either.”

“I promise.” Bucky squeezes your hand. “Do you?”

You squeeze his hand in return, but don’t say anything. Bucky takes the action as promise enough.

》•

Days turn into weeks which turn into months and suddenly it’s November, fall in New York becoming winter much sooner than expected. The cold bites at your cheeks and seeps into your bones. Bucky becomes your warmth despite the constant ache in your heart at what you really are to him.

Bucky comes into your room or you sneak into his. You ignore the looks from your friends when you all go out and don’t heed to any of Wanda’s advice.

The lines are blurred to you, because it feels like you’re in a relationship. It’s almost like you’ve fallen into one naturally. It’s not just secret sex in the middle of the night. It’s all your normal things, reading together on Sundays and watching your favorite show together Saturday nights. Only now it’s started to include footsie and make-out sessions.

There are some nights the two of you go out, whether it to be to dinner or to see a new movie, and they feel like dates. Bucky never lets you pay and holds your hand in the theater.

You almost want to ask him Why. Why aren’t we official? Why can’t you call me your girlfriend? But you’re far too afraid. For every small gesture that feels like love, there are nights out with your friends where Bucky ignores your existence or awkward introductions to coworkers you run into at the movie theater.

Life moves on though. Day by day. Even if feels like you’re on a train moving full steam ahead towards a wall and impact is inevitable.

It’s nice to have a taste of what it could be like to have him.

》•

It blows up on a Thursday night, at eight thirty-two pm, to be exact.

Bucky didn’t feel like cooking, he was relieved when you had suggested going out to grab dinner, but now he just wishes the two of you had stayed home.

There’s a tense and awkward silence as the two of you walk home. You’re about ten feet in front of him and not talking at all, it honestly looks more like he’s some creep following you home at this point. If he weren’t so upset he would probably laugh at the scene.

If Bucky had just kept his mouth shut.

“Oh my god.” You groan, slouching down in your seat and covering your face with your hands. “Fuck.”

Bucky looks between you and the entrance of the restaurant confused by your sudden annoyance. “What’s wrong?” He asks leaning towards you.

“I went to high school with that girl.” You whisper. “We were friends until I stole her boyfriend.” You roll your eyes.

Bucky chokes on his drink mid-sip. “You stole her boyfriend? Right on! I didn’t know you had that in you.” He laughs, completely shocked by the idea of a you in high school who steals guys when all he’s ever known is the sweet, loyal girl.

“I didn’t actually steal her boyfriend!” You hiss. Bucky notices the girl do a double take when her eyes catch on you. “He broke up with her and asked me to prom two weeks later so she assumed I stole him. She hated me and made the last few months of senior year absolute shit for me.” You explain slipping further into your seat before taking a heavy sip of wine.

“Incoming.” He chuckles as she makes a beeline for your table. You sit up ramrod straight when her hand lands on your shoulder and your name comes out in a fake giggle.

“Eliza.” Your smile is equally as fake as you stand up to offer her a quick hug. “How are you?” Bucky watches with amused eyes as Eliza launches into a story about her boyfriend, who’s watching the scene with bored eyes from across the restaurant.

He smiles awkwardly when the two of you turn to face him. “This is my boyfriend, Bucky.” You smile tightly at the woman and Bucky watches uncomfortably as she trails her eyes over him. “Really?” Eliza asks.

“Just friends, actually.” Bucky can’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth with an awkward laugh.

Your eyes narrow at him before they flicker away. Bucky watches in what feels like slow motion as your shoulders hunch in and you close yourself off, absolutely embarrassed as Eliza turns to you with a proud smirk. “Is that right?” Her tone is nasty and Bucky is filled with regret immediately, but there’s nothing he can do because you’re grabbing your purse and jacket and storming away.

Eliza smiles at him. “She’s always been one for the dramatics.” Bucky shakes his head as he pulls out some bills and leaves them on the table, moving the chase after you. “Thanks.” He says to the woman sarcastically as he pushes past her.

That had lead him here, trailing after you silently, as you fume from a distance. “Sweetheart, come on.” Bucky pleads. The words make you freeze and spin around to face him.

Bucky stumbles backwards as you walk towards him with fury in your eyes and your finger pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’ve always called you sweetheart,” Bucky frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just-”

“You didn’t embarrass me, James.” Bucky flinches as you spit out his first name like it’s poison. “You humiliated me. Was it really that big a deal? That I introduced you as my boyfriend? Does the idea of dating me disgust you that much?”

Bucky throws his hands out in front of him in a defensive gesture. “No! I just... We’re not dating. You know that!” He shakes his head. “I mean, dating you doesn’t disgust me... I just... You know?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “No. I don’t know.” You say coldly. “It’s not like we’re not dating. You have to see that.”

“See what?” Bucky asks, completely exasperated. “We do everything we used to do and sometimes have sex.”

“Oh my god!” Your laugh sounds manic as you pause and look up at the sky like you’re searching for an answer. “Have you ever thought that maybe we weren’t ever just friends, Bucky? That we didn’t act like normal best friends do?” You cross your arms and look back at him.

Yes. Bucky thinks immediately. “No!” He swallows. “I’ve always seen you as my best friend! Never... Never...” He’s dug himself a deeper and deeper hole every time he’s opened his mouth, but this is the nail in his coffin. He says your name gently, but you’re already backing away, hurt all over your face.

“I guess I read everything wrong then.” You say quietly. “These stupid dates and us falling asleep together at night. All the holding hands and cuddling, right?” Your voice is filled with wet emotion and Bucky is sure if it wasn’t so dark outside he would see tears brimming your eyes. “You do that with all your friends. I mean nothing.”

“That’s not what I said!” Bucky exclaims. “You know you’re one of the most important women in my life. Please. Don’t do this.” He pleads.

“I’m done. Okay? This stupid benefits thing? These friend dates, Sunday mornings together, movies? Done with all of it.” You hiss. You suck in a deep breath, like you’re preparing to deliver the final blow. Bucky braces himself. “You wanna be just friends? I’ll do you one better, we can be just roommates. That way there’s no confusion.”

Bucky can only stand still, watching as you walk away.

》

Wanda has a kind enough heart to not say I told you so, when you show on her doorstep with mascara running down your cheeks. She just pulls you inside by your arm and wraps her softest blanket around your shoulders.

“What happened?” She places a cup of tea on her coffee table in front of you. You can vaguely hear Vision trying to move around in the kitchen as quietly as possible. There’s an unspoken question that lingers in the air. What did Bucky do?

You sniffle. “We ran into Eliza tonight.” Wanda’s eyes widen and you nod. “I… I introduced Bucky as my boyfriend. It just slipped out, but he totally panicked and corrected me right to her face. I was so humiliated, I bolted.”

Wanda takes the seat beside you on the couch. “That’s awful. I can’t believe that idiot,” she hisses the word, “couldn’t put aside his dumb fears for five seconds and just have your back.”

You rub your eyes harshly. “That’s not the worst part of the night. I think the worst part was when he reiterated we were just friends and that he’s never seen me as anything more than that.”

Wanda’s mouth drops open in shock and you can even hear Vision murmur something along the lines of oh shit in the kitchen.

“Good way to get hurt, huh?” You reiterate Wanda’s words from weeks ago and her face falls into a look a pity. “I’m so stupid. Why did I even agree to doing benefits with him?”

“We all do dumb things when we love someone.” She says soothingly as she rubs her hand across your back. “I know this hurts, but look at the silver lining. Now you can move on, for real. Bucky’s made his intentions clear and you can find someone better.”

You look at her sadly. “What if there isn’t someone better?” You almost choke on your own breath as you talk through your tears. “What if no one makes me feel that way?”

Wanda shakes her head and reaches up to grip your chin between her fingertips. It forces you to look into her blazing eyes. “Bucky’s nothing more than a man with commitment issues. We’re in New York City, there are millions of them. And for every Bucky, there’s a…a…”

“Vision.” You offer up with a teasing smile. Wanda blushes, but nods. “There’s a Vision. And yours is out there, he was just waiting for Bucky to fuck up.”

You let out a choke laugh. “Yeah…” You trail off. “Can I crash here? I don’t think I can-“

“-Of course.” Wanda cuts you off. “For as long as you need.”

》

Bucky doesn’t even want to go inside. He just stands outside his apartment door staring blankly at the lock. It doesn’t feel like home without you there.

You haven’t been home in three days and if it weren’t for your instagram stories with Wanda and Vision, Bucky would think you were dead.

You haven’t reached out at all, he isn’t sure if you had come by the apartment to grab personal things and when he had asked the guys if they had heard from you, Steve had just given him an I told you this would happen lecture.

Bucky feels like a fucking idiot. Bucky is a fucking idiot. He shoves his key into the lock with a sigh.

“Bucky?” A voice calls out. It makes him freeze in the doorway. It’s your voice. He’s sure it is. Nobody else had a key to the apartment. You pop out of the kitchen with a smile. “It is you!”

Your demeanor has done a complete flip. There’s no harsh stare or fiery eyes, just smiles. It leaves his head spinning. For the past three days he’s been trying to figure out how to make things better and you’re…fine?

“He…hey.” He pushes the word out. “Um. What are you doing here?”

Your brows furrow. “I live here?” You laugh softly before turning back into the kitchen. Bucky follows you dumbly, completely awestruck by your sudden reappearance.

“I thought… I thought you were mad at me?” He asks hesitantly.

“I was. Now I’m not.” You shrug. You move around the kitchen easily, putting groceries away that Bucky hadn’t even noticed with his entire focus on you.

He moves towards you. “Sweetheart-“

You interrupt him with your name and suddenly the fire is back in your eyes. Oh. This isn’t Bucky’s best friend coming back into his life.

It’s his roommate coming back home.

Just like you had promised.

》•

Bucky tries to catch you some days. He’ll tilt his head in an attempt to force your eyes to meet his while you talk about nothing after he gets home from work.

You always avoid them, terrified one look into the blue you’ve loved for so long and you’ll crumble at his feet. You chatter about nothing important, the weather outside and your neighbor upstairs who always stomps around at four in the morning.

Bucky always listens intently and you begin to feel a little guilty for cutting him out completely. You just needed some time to get over him, then one day you could come home and watch Law and Order with him again and cook dinner together.

But for now, you pretend he’s nothing more than a roommate and like you’re not desperately in love with him.

It’ll work. It has to work.

》

Your name is like honey coming from Steve’s lips. He’s got a kind smile on his face as he hands over your coffee. He had slipped behind you in line at the coffee shop with a sheepish hello.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as you take it from him. “I can pay for my own coffee.” You can see the ingredients scribbled onto the side of his paper cup and it makes you smile into your sip.

Steve Rogers had a sweet tooth.

“Day off? Or just a break?” You hold the coffee shop door open for him to follow you out onto the street. Steve gives you a thankful smile.

“Break. I’m heading back to the office now.” He takes a sip of his drink. There were two weeks left of November and the streets of New York were doing their annual flip. Christmas lights going up too early and gloomy skies overhead.

You walk beside him, one hand shoved into your pocket. “Mind if I walk with you? I’m off today and I am so bored just sitting around the apartment.”

“Not at all!” Steve answers quickly. There’s a slight flush on his cheeks that you attribute to the wind nipping at both your cheeks. “I could use the company of someone other than corporate lawyers.”

You laugh at his dramatic eye roll. “You know most of your friends work at that firm.” Steve gives you an unapologetic smile. “Two friends and I can admit they can both be dicks sometimes.”

He looks at you like he knows something and you swallow, turning to look straight ahead of you. “I disagree.” You finally say after a moment. He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Sam is always a sweetheart.”

That startles a laugh out of Steve, who looks at you with a shine in his eyes. He shakes his head and looks down at the sidewalk in front of him. “You okay? I know that-“

“-I’m fine.” You cut him off. You look up at him with a half smile. “And we don’t have to talk about it. In fact, let’s not.” You force out a laugh and Steve nods slowly.

You end up walking the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. Steve has a reassuring presence, something you don’t think you’ve ever even realized until now. Warmth radiates off of his body and his eyes give everything he feels away. Steve is a good apple. At least that’s what your grandmother would say if she had met him.

“This is me.” Steve says softly as he slows to a stop outside the corporate building. If you look around you’ll notice every building near by looks almost exactly the same. “Thanks for walking with me.” He says softly with a nervous smile.

You smile back. “Thanks for buying me coffee.” You hold it up towards him as if to show him. “And for letting me tag along.”

Steve shakes his head. You’re sure he has to get back to work soon, you know their days are usually full and small breaks like this were just that - small. “You don’t have to thank me. I… I like hanging out with you. You’re cool.” He scrunches his nose up when he realizes what he’s just said but you giggle.

“Cool?” You ask with a teasing smile. Steve looks down at his feet with red dusting his cheeks. “I think you’re cool too.” The words are soft as you nudge his boot clad foot with yours.

Steve looks up with bright eyes. “Yeah?” You nod and he smiles to himself. “We should… We should hang out more.” He suggests hesitantly.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. Steve looks about two seconds away from being sick with nerves and it’s sweet. Completely and utterly tooth rottingly sweet that someone is this nervous around you. Your heart picks up at him wanting to hang out more.

“Like dates?” You question quietly. Steve turns a bright shade of right and you’re reminded of Bucky blurting his secret out weeks ago. “I would like that.” You don’t give him a chance to respond to your first question.

He smiles so bright that you’re blinded by it. “Yeah?” You nod with a small smile. “Yeah. Now go back to work!” You shove his shoulder lightly which makes him laugh. “You have my number.”

He’s nodding happily as he backs away. “I do! I’ll text you?”

“Please!” You laugh as he pushes through the glass doors backwards, almost running over a women. He smiles awkwardly at her before facing you once again. You wave as he disappears into the crowd of people.

When he’s out of sight you let out a sigh. He was kind and incredibly endearing. Steve was a man every woman would be lucky to date. Why did you feel so guilty for flirting then?

You know why.

You ignore it.

》

Bucky watches with pursed lips from his spot by the front desk as you and Steve chat outside. He tries his best to read lips, but your both standing at an angle that makes it near impossible.

“You’re not creepy at all.” The voice makes him jump and he turns to look at Sam, leaning against the opposite side of the reception desk. Martha, the woman who runs the desk, looks between them in amusement. “Steve is some kind of psychic, huh?” He snorts.

Bucky turns his glare onto Sam. “It’s not my fault they’re out there for everyone to see.” He snaps before turning his eyes back on the scene in front of him.

Sam laughs loudly and Bucky watches his Steve embarrasses himself by running into a girl leaving the building. He would feel better about it, if he couldn’t see you smiling brightly at the man.

Bucky loves Steve, but he wants nothing more than to punch him in the face for not staying away from you. Even though Bucky is fully aware you’re both adults with minds of you own, he had never imagined Steve would actually sweep you off your feet.

When Steve makes his way towards Sam and Bucky, Sam has got a cheesy smile on his face and Bucky can do nothing but glare. “Got myself a date, boys.” He smacks a hand against Bucky’s back.

“It’s like… She was run right into my arms.” He smirks before making his way towards the elevator. Sam follows behind Steve with another loud laugh.

Bucky is left standing in the lobby alone. He watches your form retreat across the street and sighs. He had made a mess of things, huh?

》

You can’t get the dress to zip up all the way. You’ve tried a multitude of angles, from pulling the dress up and trying to reach it over your shoulder to almost breaking your arm at an awkward angle.

You sigh in defeat as you stand in front of your mirror. You can hear Bucky in his room across the hall, music playing a little too loud and his footsteps around the room. He’s got his cleaning playlist on, it forces a small smile to appear on your face.

You suck in a deep breath. Roommates helped each other with zippers. It was normal, Bucky could help you with a zipper.

“Bucky.” You knock softly on his door. There’s no answer, he probably can’t hear anything over the music. You knock harder. “Bucky?” The music stops and you suck in a nervous breath.

His door flies open and his eyes widen when he sees you standing in the half zipped dress. His eyes narrow. “What’s up?”

Your fingers fidget in front of your stomach as you look at him nervously. “Can you… Can you help me zip the rest of the way? I just can’t get it.” You admit sheepishly.

Bucky nods. “Turn around.” He orders softly and you do as he says. His fingers find the zipper stuck halfway up your back and your breath hitches. You think you hear his do the same as he begins to pull it up slowly.

It’s a tense silence as his hands rest on your back for a second too long. When he drops them back to his side, you turn to look at him. He shuts his eyes tightly and sighs. “Listen. About what happened-“

There’s a knock at your door that makes you step away. You look at Bucky apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” You take a few stumbling steps away.

You feel his eyes on you as you move through the apartment and collect your purse and jacket. When you open the door, Steve is standing there with flowers and it makes you pause.

Bucky’s bedroom door slams shut when you pull the flowers into your own hand. His music starts playing again as you get them into water. You and Steve smile awkwardly at each other.

When Steve’s hand lands on your lower back to guide you out of the building, all you can think is Bucky’s hands there earlier, warmer and somehow softer, you try to ignore how wrong it feels.

You were moving on. It would get better.

》•

Bucky’s pathetic. That much he knows. Four drinks in and he’s missing you desperately. All he can think about is Steve’s hand on your back and how you look in that red dress.

Did you know it was Steve’s favorite color? Is that why you had worn it? He had seen the black lace of your bra underneath when zipping the dress for you, had you worn that on purpose too?

He feels like he’s hit rock bottom. Like it can’t get worse than this. His best friend on a date with his other best friend who he wasn’t talking to anymore because he wanted a friends with benefits thing.

I had other friends, he thinks. Friends who I could stand to lose. Why did I want her? Why did I do that?

Annoyingly enough, Steve’s voice is what answers him. You’re in love with her. The words make Bucky jolt up in his seat because, well, he’s never thought that before. He’s always known he loved you in a platonic sense and that he cared for you deeply, but being in love with you?

That can’t be it. Bucky didn’t really do being in love. He’s seen what that does to people. He saw what it did to his mother, heartbroken and left with two kids to raise on her own. He’s seen what heartbreak has done to Becca, who used to lock herself away in her room and spend hours crying over boys who weren’t worth it.

He snorts to himself, taking another sip of his drink. They say you can only go up from from rock bottom. Bucky thinks he’s got some kind of special ability to go lower though as he stares at his phone.

He wants to text you and beg you to come home. He calls his mom instead. “Ma?” He asks quietly when she picks the phone up. “It’s Bucky.”

“I have caller ID. I know.” She lets out a laugh. “What’s up? You sound upset, my love.” She asks gently.

“I fucked up, Ma.” Bucky admits after a moment of silence. “I…”

“What’s wrong? What happened?” She sounds panicked and Bucky immediately feels bad for worrying her.

“No I mean, like, with Y/N. I fucked up with her.” He explains. His mother inhales sharply at the sound of his best friends name.

“What happened?” She asks softly, almost knowingly.

“We… I… I’m not meant for relationships? You know? Love? It always ends bad so I told her we could just be friends with some benefits.” He feels a little embarrassed sharing this with his mother, but he doesn’t have anybody else to turn to. “And I fucked it up. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too.” Bucky can admit that he blurred the lines. That he didn’t treat you like just a friend, but when had he ever? You’d always been a little closer than normal friends.

“Oh Bucky.” His mother murmurs, her tone isn’t disappointed, just sad. “I’m so sorry your father did this to you.” Bucky rubs a hand over his face. “Ma-“

“-No, Bucky. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the value of romantic love. Of love that keeps you warm and love that makes your heart race.” She says quietly.

“It always ends in heartbreak. I don’t need it.” He says defensively. It’s silent, Bucky listens to his mom breathe before finally whispering, “What if I’m like him? What if I ruin her life?”

“Oh sweetheart, you’re nothing like him.” Her voice cracks. “You’re good. You’re a good man. You’re empathetic. You care deeply. You don’t have to be afraid of ending up like him, you’ve already proven you won’t.”

“Doesn’t feel like that.” Bucky lets out a short laugh. “Feels like I already am.”

“James Buchanan Barnes. I am not going to sit here and listen to you talk about yourself like this. You’re not like him because you see what you’ve done wrong. Because you feel remorse.” She says heatedly. “Your father never felt bad for what he did or who he hurt, that’s what makes you different. That’s what makes you better.”

Bucky wipes hastily at the tears that he hadn’t realized were falling down his cheeks until now. Has he always been this much of a light weight? Full of emotion and regrets that are only amplified by his drunkenness.

“I love that girl like she’s my own.” His mother’s voice brings him back. “So, what are you gonna do to fix this? I already bought her Christmas present.”

Bucky laughs. His chest feels a little lighter. “Leave her alone.” He answers genuinely. He can almost see his mother’s mouth open in protest. “She’s on a date with Steve. I can’t ruin that for either of them.”

There’s a sigh on the other end of the line. “You’re a good man, Bucky. Every good man makes mistakes. It’ll all work out.” She says vehemently.

“I love you, ma. Thank you.” Bucky looks at the bottle in front of him. “I love you too. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She asks gently. “Okay.” He nods as she hangs up.

Her words help, but he’s still filled with guilt as he thinks of you. He had never wanted things to become this messed up with you. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate him.

Then why’d you do it? Bucky pulls at his hair. Since when was his subconscious so annoying? Was it the drinks? It’s your voice next. I mean nothing to you?

“No. Shut up.” Bucky says to himself before standing up, his knee knocking against the coffee table painfully. He groans, but doesn’t stop moving. He feels like he’s going to be sick. He is going to be sick, he realizes as he forces the bathroom door open.

He throws up. He’s not sure if it’s from the drinks or this overwhelming feeling of pure angst in his chest. A feeling that makes his lungs constrict and his heart ache.

He briefly wonders if this is heartbreak. And if it was, did that mean Steve was right? Bucky loved you?

He makes it back to the couch and starts a random movie in an attempt to stay up and wait for you. To talk or something. He was so, so sick of not talking to you.

But he falls asleep less than fifteen minutes later and he doesn’t hear you step into the apartment.

》•

“I had a really nice time tonight.” You say quietly. It’s almost midnight and you’re sure your neighbors wouldn’t appreciate you waking them up. “Thank you for taking me out.”

Steve stuffs his hands into his jacket pocket and gives you a grin. “Thanks for letting me take you out.”The two of you look at each other before breaking eye contact with awkward laughs. “We should do this again.”

You nod. “We should!” You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek before turning towards your door. “I’ll see you later, Steve.” You say softly before pushing the door open.

Steve gives you a short wave with a happy smile. “See you.” He begins to back away, down the hallway. “I’ll just.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder before spinning around to walk straight.

You laugh silently to yourself as you finally step into your apartment and shut the door behind you. With your eyes shut tightly, you lean your back against the door and let out a sigh.

Your silence is disturbed by a groan and your eyes shoot open. Bucky’s laying on the couch, one arm hanging off and a bottle of whiskey sitting almost completely empty in front of him.

“Oh, Bucky.” You let out a sad sigh as you drop your purse and keys on the entryway table. His eyes are squeezed shut, you can tell he’s in a deep sleep.

When you stand in front of him, you push the stray hairs that are stuck to his sweaty forehead back. He’s flushed and you don’t know exactly how much he’s had to drink, but he was definitely drunk. You allow your nails to trace over his cheekbones and jawline in admiration.

You move away, suddenly aware of what you’re actually doing. You move quickly, picking up the empty glass and whiskey bottle and moving towards the kitchen. You leave the glass in the sink and stuff the bottle back into your drinks cabinet.

You think of just going back to your room, but you know you can’t leave Bucky shivering on the couch. You grab a clean glass and fill it with water before placing it on the coffee table in front of you. You pull out your travel Advil from your purse and sit it next to glass. His favorite blanket is draped over the back your lounge chair. You pull it off and drape it over him gently. Bucky snuffles then turns so his face is pressed into the couch.

You look down at Bucky again before leaving him in the room.

》

It’s like there’s a shift between you and Bucky after your date with Steve. You’re kinder and you seem to be more open with him again, while all Bucky wants to do is hide away in his room.

Every time you sit across from him in the living room or join him for dinner, he feels panic rise in him like vile and he ends up sitting tensely beside you.

Because you’re figuring your shit out. You want to be friends with Bucky again while Steve takes you out every weekend. It’s perfect. Going swimmingly, really.

Except, Bucky is falling apart. Every time you go out with Steve he makes himself sick thinking about what you’re doing. He’s stuck in this constant cycle of why does it hurt so much and you love her you love her you love her.

He just wants to scream so what? Even if he did love you, what did it matter? It’s not like it would change anything. You had never told him you loved him, you had only been angry because he had given you mixed signals. Now, you had moved on to someone easy, someone without commitment fears and who didn’t give you mixed signals.

So, even if he did love you, why would he say anything. Why would he ruin something good for you? He wanted to prove his mother right. He was better than his father, and he wouldn’t ruin something good for you. Not when he was the one who had driven you away. Sick sense of irony, the way this worked out.

》

You’re trying. You can tell Bucky is too. As you come further out of your shell again, he sticks to staunch boundaries and has ceased all of his old affectionate gestures. You know it makes sense and it’s for the best. Even if it does nothing but remind you of what you had grown used to with him before all this.

Besides, you couldn’t blame Bucky for not feeling the same way you did. Not when you had agreed to just benefits and not when you had never told him the truth.

And Steve was sweet. Steve was gentle and kind and kissed you like you mattered. He held your hand in public and introduced you as his date when you ran into people he knew.

He was good. You cared for him, a lot, and you were desperate for it to work out. For it to work out with Steve and for it to work out with Bucky.

That’s how this night started. These thoughts and a plan. A stupid fucking plan for moving on. Drinks with everyone. Wanda, Vision, Sam, Steve… Bucky.

Bucky who was talking to a redhead at the bar. Bucky who you couldn’t stop staring at as he smiled and charmed her. Your fist tightened around your glass as you watch her nails inch towards his hand.

“Another round of drinks?” Sam’s voice pulls you from your stare. You shake your head to yourself and glance around table. Everybody’s glasses are empty except yours. “I’ll go!” You offer as you drain the last of your drink quickly.

You stand up before anybody at the table can question it. “I can help you.” Steve goes to stand, but you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s up there. I’m sure he’ll help!” You give him a big smile, one that he answers with furrowed eyebrows. You don’t think much of it as you spin on your heel and make a beeline for the bar.

You don’t see the look Wanda shoots you or the glance Sam and Steve share. You stop right behind Bucky and lean on the counter as you order then you tap him on his shoulder.

He spins quickly. “What’s up? Everyone okay?” He asks, his eyes shifting between you and the table of your friends.

“Yeah!” You give him a small smile. “I was sent for drinks and I didn’t realize how many there were. Think you could help?”

He glances between you and the redhead, who’s giving you a kind smile as she waits. You smile in return before looking up at Bucky again. “Please?” You tack on with a pout.

Bucky laughs. “Yeah. Whatever.” He looks down at the woman again. “You wanna join us? Promise everyone is super cool.”

Your eyes widen as the drinks are placed in front of you. She wasn’t supposed to come. This was supposed to… You pause.

This was supposed to get him away from her. Back to your side.

“Yeah!” You give her a fake smile. “You should join us, we could always use more girls.” You chuckle as you lift three glasses.

Bucky grabs the other three before looking at the woman in question. She shrugs before grabbing her own glass to follow after you two.

You hand out the glasses before taking your seat beside Steve again. He arm comes up to rest behind your chair and you can’t shake the urge to push it off.

“Guys, this is Natasha.” Bucky gestures to the woman besides him before pulling a chair out for her. “Natasha. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Sam.” He points everyone out before finishing off with you. She smiles politely at all of you. You grind your teeth as he sits beside her.

The group seems to take a liking to her right away. She laughs at Sam’s jokes and compliments Wanda’s engagement ring. You’re burning with jealously as Bucky flirts in front of all of you.

It’s wholly irrational, a sober you would know that this jealously doesn’t really make sense. Three mixed drinks in though and it feels like Bucky is doing this to hurt you.

It feels like he’s showing you what he could never do with you. He never flirted with you in front of your friends or allowed his hand to inch towards yours on the table in front of them.

Bucky was secretly affectionate with you. It was tangled feet on Sunday mornings and cuddling Saturday nights. Sex in the middle of night and… heartbreak the next morning.

So his drifting hand and charming smile directed towards Natasha is suffocating you with insecurity. What did she have?

“I’m going home.” You stand abruptly when Bucky leans towards her with a laugh. Your shaky on your feet and Steve reaches a hand out to stabilize you. Everyone looks at you with confusion. “I… I don’t feel good.”

“I’ll walk you home.” Steve stands immediately.

You shake your head. “No!” When he freezes and looks at you with hurt eyes you smile tightly. “I mean, I’m going to take a Lyft. You stay here, have fun.”

“At least let me wait with you. So you’re not in the cold alone.” He insists and you nod slowly.

You really want to be alone, to wallow in this feeling, but Steve was nice and of course he wouldn’t let you go alone.

You watch Bucky for a moment, like you expect him to say something, to offer to come with you. Like he always did, but his attention shifts back to Natasha as Steve’s arm wraps around your waist.

It’s silent as he guides you out of the bar and tense as you order the Lyft. “Fifteen minutes.” You say softly.

Steve nods and looks around the almost empty street. You open your mouth to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.

“What happened between you and Bucky?” He asks quietly, his hands stuffed into his jacket pocket, and his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

You swallow thickly. “He didn’t tell you?” You ask instead of answering the question.

“He told me you guys had a friends with benefits thing going on. Then he told me you didn’t.” He doesn’t look angry, just sad as he stares down at you. “You know Bucky, he doesn’t share a lot.”

You look down at the sidewalk, your heel scuffing against it nervously. “I don’t know. I read things wrong, I guess. I… I thought we had a chance?” Your tone is questioning and you let out a laugh in a self-deprecating manner.

“You still love him?” You eyes shoot up to meet Steve’s. You open your mouth to say something, anything, to turn this conversation around but the door opening takes your attention off of the conversation.

It’s Bucky and Natasha, laughing softly with one another. You turn away quickly and feel the vomit rise in your throat. “I’m gonna be sick.” You murmur before throwing up all over Steve’s shoes. He grimaces and takes a step back as the couple turns around at the sound of you.

Bucky calls out your name. You can’t look up, instead you drop to the ground and sit on the sidewalk ledge.“Are you okay?” Bucky kneels down beside you as you cough.

“I’m fine. You can go. Go.” You urge, unable to look up at him. Bucky doesn’t budge though, his hand coming up to push back the hairs stuck to your forehead. “Bucky. Please.” You groan.

“I’ll walk her home.” Bucky says to Steve, ignoring your pleas. “The air will do her some good and the car moving will only make her feel worse.”

Steve looks between you two hesitantly. “I don’t know, I can take her.” You still feel nauseous, especially at the idea of Steve who you’re pretty sure just broke up with you wanting to keep you away from Bucky for your comfort.

When you look up, Natasha is standing behind Bucky with worried eyes. You feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes as they move to Bucky. He smiles gently, his hand still resting against your cheek. “Let me walk you home, sweets.”

The nickname makes your heart soar. Months of nothing but your first name and you feel like you’re floating at the sound of it. “Okay.” You nod, your hand coming up to rest on his. “Okay.” You pull out your phone to cancel the Lyft.

He helps you stand. “I’ll see you.” He says apologetically to Natasha. She doesn’t look upset, in fact she smiles at him like she knows something you two don’t. “I’ll let you know when we get home.” He says to Steve, who nods before following Natasha inside.

You feel flushed and hot all over. A horrible mixture of drinks, jealously and nausea settling in your stomach. It makes you horribly dizzy and you’re forced to lean against Bucky heavily for support.

“One step at a time, sweets.” Bucky says softly, his metal arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

》

“Almost there.” Bucky exhales a deep breath as he all but carries you towards the couch. He’d given up on getting you down the hall, you had pretty much become dead weight and getting you down the hall to the apartment had taken a lot out of Bucky. “Few more steps, sweets.”

Bucky’s cheeks are red and his entire body is warm. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and he can’t help but feel his heart grow as you latch onto him.

“Easy. Easy.” He murmurs as he sits you down gently on the couch. You mumble incoherently as you head lands on the back of the couch.

He pulls away from you and pulls his phone out. Sorry to leave you, maybe we can catch up another time?

Maybe. As friends, of course.

Bucky glances at you before looking back down at his phone, he begins to type but another message pops up quickly.

I saw the way you looked at her, I don’t think you’re looking for a girlfriend! It’s okay :)

Bucky leaves the phone sitting on the coffee table as he focuses his attention back on you. You open your eyes and look at him sadly. “What’s wrong with me?” You ask quietly.

“Nothing.” Bucky responds immediately, his hand reaching out for your cheek. The moan of relief you let out at the coolness of his metal appendage goes straight through Bucky. “Nothing is wrong with you.” He forces his voice to stay steady.

He takes a seat next to you on the couch and drops his hand back to his lap. While you stare at the carpeted floor, Bucky’s eyes trail over you. He takes in the skin tight pants and soft sweater. The way your legs look makes him swallow thickly. You were beautiful and Bucky loved you.

The thought makes him pause, but it doesn’t scare him nearly as much as he thought it would. He did. He loved you. He knew looking at you now that the months of questioning it and then trying to make himself believe it was just as a friend as you dated Steve, was all in vain. He loved you. Maybe he had loved this whole time.

You look up at him suddenly, like you can hear his thoughts, and Bucky is frozen in his spot. You move towards him slowly and he can’t do anything but watch.

You crawl into his lap and Bucky’s hands immediately rest on your waist to hold you steady. “What… What’re doing?” He can’t hide the shock in his tone. He has to hold back a moan as your hands come up to run through his hair. You left yanks gently at the hair on the back of his head to force him to look up at you and Bucky is unable to stop the moan from slipping out then.

You smile down at him cheekily. “Want you to fuck me.” Your already slurred words are murmured, so Bucky almost doesn’t understand you. “It’s been so long, Buck.” You grind down and he chokes on his own spit, not expecting his night to end like this.

“You gotta stop, sweets.” His grip on you waist tightens in an attempt to halt your movements. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.” He says, looking back up at you.

Your hands rest on his shoulders and you shake your head. “I know I hated seeing you with her. I hate not having you. Please, I miss you.” You whisper pleadingly.

The words pain Bucky. “I miss you too, but you don’t want this.” He gently pushes you off of his lap and back onto the couch cushions beside him.

Your head falls to your hands while your elbows rest against your legs. “Why don’t you want me?” You look back up at him with wet eyes. Bucky freezes. Is that what you thought? That he didn’t want you?

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how much I want you.” He admits, reaching out to pull your hands away from your face completely. You shake your head and pull yourself away from him.

“If you wanted me you wouldn’t have flirted with her all night. In front of me. In front of our friends.” Bucky looks at you with wide eyes. How could you be upset with him over that when you had gone with Steve? When you had been dating Steve?

“You’re with Steve.” He reminds you. “Am I supposed to not flirt with other people? You told me we were just roommates. We’re barely even friends!” He exclaims.

“No! I told you that because you hurt me.” You wipe tears off of your cheeks. “You… You made me feel like I was something to you then told me I was just a fuck. I was hurt.” You explain. “God, you- I loved you so much and you just - just-“

“You love me?” Bucky cuts you off. He knows you’re drunk, but the words make his heart race. He feels his eyes soften as he stares at your form.

The tears gathered in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks as you shake your head hastily. “Loved you. I loved you. But you didn’t love me, so I moved on.”

Bucky didn’t know it was possible to physically feel your heart break, but here he was, his heart cracking painfully as you look away from him.

“I’m so tired.” You whisper. “Why could you flirt with her in front of all our friends? Why… Why was I a dirty secret?”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to you. Doesn’t know how to explain to you that he wasn’t afraid of losing her the way he was you. He didn’t know her at all, he certainly didn’t know her the way he knew you.

“We should get you to bed.” Bucky stands abruptly. His hands come down to hold your arms gently as he helps you stand. “We can talk in the morning.”

You allow him to pull you up, it looks like you’ve given up on furthering the conversation. Bucky picks you up bridal style to carry you down the hall.

Your arms rest loosely around his neck. “Steve broke up with me.” You say as Bucky drops you onto your mattress. “He knows about us. He doesn’t want someone who… who…” You trail off before falling into a fit coughs.

“We’ll talk in the morning.” Bucky says softly, his fingers trailing over your cheeks. “I promise, sweetheart.” You already have a water bottle on your nightstand, so Bucky searches your vanity for Advil.

He leaves two pills beside the bottle. You’re already dozing off, your eyes fluttering shut, so Bucky leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. When he goes to pull back, your hand shoots out and wraps around his wrist. “Stay. Please.” You whisper.

Bucky hesitates for a second before nodding and sitting beside you on the bed as he pulls his shoes off. His heart races as he moves to lay beside you and he feels flushed as you curl into his side.

He allows himself to relax with you in his arms. It had been so long since you’ve been beside him like this and Bucky lets himself feel love as you do.

Is this what he had been afraid of the entire time?

》

You wake up hot, nauseous and with a pounding headache.

And something wrapped tightly around you. When you open your eyes fully, the first thing you see is a metal arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You groan when your eyes trail up and the sunlight streaming in from your window hits you.

A deeper groan is returned and it makes you freeze. You rack your brain for what happened last night, but all you could remember was getting sick outside the bar and Bucky taking you home. Had you said something? Had he?

You turn over in his arms and look up at him. His eyes are still closed and he’s letting out steady, soft breaths.

“Bucky.” You whisper, your hand coming up to rest against his chest. “Bucky, wake up.” You say a little louder.

His eyes snap open and immediately he pulls away from you. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. You… You…” He sots up and rubs a hand over his face.

“I don’t… What happened? I just remember you walking me home.” You sit up slowly. You’re still wearing your leggings and the sweater from last night. You groan. “I’m sorry I took you away from…” He shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I offered. You asked me to stay when I got you into bed, I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable.” His apology is sincere and you suck in a deep breath.

“It’s okay. I don’t… You know I don’t mind falling asleep with you.” Neither of you move or say anything, just sit on opposite sides of your bed in awkward silence. “I-“

“I love you.” Bucky blurts effectively cutting you off. Your eyes widen and your pulse quickens as you stare at him. You had not been expecting that. “And… I’m sorry it took all of this. Not being friends, Steve, drinks, for me to realize, but I do. I think I’ve always loved you, I just… I didn’t know it.”

You shake your head as you try to process what he’s saying. “I don’t… I don’t understand. Where is this coming from?”

“I… Seeing you with Steve. I didn’t… It killed me inside.” Bucky admits.

“And you think that means you love me?” You spit out. “You said it yourself, Bucky Barnes doesn’t do relationships.” You shake your head. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have my attention anymore.”

“That’s not true.” Bucky says adamantly. He turns his body on the bed so it’s facing you. “It made me realize I love you. It made me realize my favorite time of the day is when I get to spend time with you. That our Sundays spent reading and Saturdays watching Law and Order were always better than bars or parties because I was with you. I… I want to do the relationship things with you. Holding hands, just sleeping together. Telling people you’re my girlfriend.”

You stare at him tearfully. “How do you know it’s love? That you didn’t just miss me?”

“I know what it’s like to miss you. This feeling? This warmth in my chest when you’re around and the ache there when you’re gone? That’s not missing you. I...” He pauses. “I love you. And It’s okay if you don’t feel the same anymore-“

“-Anymore?” You question. Your eyes squeeze shut as you headache gets worse. “Bucky, what-“

“You told me you loved me last night. You were drunk, I know, but-“

“Fuck.” You laugh to yourself as you take in everything he has said. Pieces of last night come flashing back to your mind. Crawling into Bucky’s lap, crying, admitting you had loved him. “Oh God.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

“Bucky you don’t have to-“ You shake your head. “You don’t have to try and make this something it isn’t because you feel bad.”

“I’m not.” Bucky reaches a hand out to rest on your back. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

You look over at him. “Prove it.”

》

Steve meets him for coffee later that morning. You’re out with Wanda for Sunday brunch and Bucky is on his final stop of his apology tour.

“Hey.” Steve looks up from his phone and smiles at Bucky. “Can I sit?” Bucky motions to the chair across from him and Steve nods.

Steve pushes a black coffee over to Bucky, whose nose scrunches up at the scent. Fair, Bucky thinks. “What’s up?” Steve asks quietly. “You missed our run this morning.”

Bucky looks down at the table. “I had some stuff to deal with. You know with-“ Bucky cuts himself when Steve nods. “Listen, I wanted to say I’m sorry. Shit was never supposed to get this messed up.”

Steve shrugs. “You tell her?” He gives Bucky a knowing smile. “That you love her?”

Bucky gives him a small smile in return. “I did. Yeah.” He taps his fingers against the table. “She’s got some, uh, trust issues with me. But it makes sense. We’re gonna take it slow.”

“I’m happy for you, Buck.” Steve admits after taking a sip of his drink. “I was never mad or angry with you. I always knew she still cared for you and I think I always knew it would never be anything serious.”

Bucky nods. “Thanks, Steve.” He looks down at his coffee with an appreciative smile.

“Besides,” Steve smirks, “Natasha is super cool. We exchanged numbers last night after she asked about what was going on between you two.”

》

Bucky invites you to spend Christmas with his family. You don’t even have to think about it before you say yes. Christmases with his family were always full of warmth and love; You absolutely loved it.

You’re more excited to be here this year too, to celebrate with him in this way. As his girlfriend, you had heard him tell Rebecca over the phone when informing her of his plans to drive up to see them Christmas Eve.

You had the perfect gift for him too, well, you have a few gifts for him. Most of them could wait for Christmas with his mom and sister, but there were two you were just desperate to see his reaction to.

That’s why you slip out of his room in the early hours of the morning when the sky is still dark and everybody is asleep.

That’s how Bucky wakes up, a small, wrapped box sitting on the nightstand and you nowhere to be found. Bucky eyes the box warily before looking around the rest of his bedroom. Your suitcase is unzipped and he can tell it’s be riffled through before being shoved back into the corner os his room.

His door is pushed open quietly. “Why are you up?” His voice makes you jump and spin so your back slams against the door. Bucky has to bite back a laugh as you take a couple deep, calming breaths.

“I...I was going to wake you up.” You tip toe across the room and crawl into bed beside Bucky. You suck in a deep, nervous breath. While you and Bucky had been dating for the past few weeks, you had also been taking it slow. “For gifts.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow as he sits up a little straighter in bed. “Gifts? It’s five in the morning, I promise Becca and my mom are in such deep sleep we couldn’t wake them if we tried.”

Kind of what I’m banking on, you think. “No. I mean.. Our gifts, for each other.” You explain in a soft voice, before reaching over to pick up the small box you had left sitting on the nightstand. “I didn’t want to give you this in front of your family and I don’t think I can wait.” You admit a little sheepishly.

Bucky looks down at the box with a soft smile. “Just let me get one of your gifts.” He sits it down on the comforter before crawling out of the bed and moving to his suitcase. He picks up a small box, wrapped in the same gift paper his is because he had stolen your roll, and smiles up at you.

He hands it over and the two of you just stare at each other with bright, happy smiles before tearing into the wrapping paper at the same time. Your mouth drops open in shock when you open the box.

A bracelet is staring back at you. A silver band filled with charms that make you smile as you run your fingertips over each one. Your alma mater’s mascot. The Brooklyn Bridge. A bottle of wine. “Buck...” You trail off in awe. “This is beautiful.”

“Sweets.” He says the nickname gently and you look up to watch him pull the watch out of the box with a small smile. “This is...” He flips it over in his hand and his eyes widen when he notices the engraving on the back.

the best lovers start as friends.

“I love you.” He runs a finger of the engraved metal as you whisper softly, “I... I’ve loved you for so long, Buck, and having your love in return is unlike anything I could have imagined.”

Bucky drops the watch on the bed between you as he reaches across to pull you into a bruising kiss. You drop your own gift onto the bed and reach up to rest a hand on his chest.

“I love you.” Bucky pulls away to whisper the words. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He punctuates each sentence with a kiss to your skin. You giggle softly as he moves towards you and his hand settles on your waist.

“I have something else for you.” You pull away to remove the bracelet and watch from the bed. Bucky watches as you move so you’re on your knees with intrigued eyes. You smile coyly as you move to pull his shirt over your head.

Bucky lets out a low moan as his eyes trail over your body, covered in dark green lace. “What’s this?” His fingers come up to trace over the lace and leave goosebumps in their wake.

“Your second gift.” You murmur breathlessly as he fingers drift lower and lower. Bucky smirks as he leans towards you and presses a kiss to your neck, then across your collar bone until he’s trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts.

He pulls away after a moment and looks up at you questioningly. “Are you sure?”

You smile down at him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I wouldn’t have dropped this much money on lingerie if I wasn’t sure.” His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he pulls your body flush against his.

“What did I do to deserve a gift like this?” He looks up at you with a bright smile. You run a hand through his hair. “Love me.” You answer genuinely. Red dusts Bucky’s cheeks at your words as you lean in to kiss him.

You shift so you’re straddling Bucky’s lap. “Gonna fuck me?” You murmur in question against his lips. Bucky moans against you and his hips buck up involuntarily. His hand drops from your waist to your thigh and he trails his fingertips up.

“You look so pretty, sweets.” He smirks up at you as his hand pushes the lace aside. He runs the tip of his index finger over your wet folds and you push down already wanting more from him. “Patience, sweetheart. Let me take you in. I wanna enjoy my gift.”

You moan as he begins to rub slowly against your clit. “Want you to ride my thigh first, sweets.” Bucky shifts you so your legs are straddled over his left thigh.

You moan as your clit rubs against his thigh. You pull at the waist band and his sweatpants and he helps you pull them off of his legs before situating your body back over him. “Fuck.” You let out a deep sigh as his hands land on your hips.

His eyes are dark and pupils blown as he stares at you above him. Bucky’s already hard, you can see his dick straining against his briefs. He doesn’t do more than lightly guide you by the hands on your hips, but his eyes watching you intently as you moan is enough to make your stomach twist in pleasure.

“Fuck, James.” He groans as his first name tumbles out of your mouth in a breathy moan. “You look so pretty on my thigh, sweetheart. I love watching you.”

He leans forward then, to press kisses across your breasts as you move back and forth against him. “Feels so good.” One of your hands twists in his hair and Bucky moans against your skin.

You move faster against him as you feel yourself get wetter. You moan his name like a mantra as Bucky’s hands grip you tighter and tighter.

Bucky’s hands force you to a stop. You whine at the lost of pleasure, but it’s not long before Bucky has you flipped so you’re laying on your back beneath him.

“Gonna fuck you, is that okay sweets?” He leans back to pull his shirt off and you nod hastily as your hands come up to pull at his briefs. It’s not long before you’re bare underneath him, the lace garments discarded to the floor of his bedroom.

“Gotta be quiet.” He runs his tip over you folds in a teasing manner that almost makes you moan out. Instinctively, your hips buck up with a quiet whine. His hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Don’t want Becca to hear. She’s just down the hall, sweets.”

It’s a warning and it makes heat spread through you. You’re not sure if it’s the idea that you could get caught in his childhood bedroom or the way Bucky’s voice deepens, but it makes you tired of waiting. “Please.” Your beg is muffled by his hand, but he hears it. He doesn’t wait any longer, he pushes himself all the way in and you both let out relieved moans at the feeling. “Fuck. Fuck. You always feel so good, baby.”

Your back arches into his body as he begins fucking you at a slow pace. When he seems satisfied that you won’t make too much noise, his hand moves from your mouth he rests his forearm on the pillow beside your head. “James.” It’s a whispered moan that makes his hips stutter. “Faster. Please. I’ll be quiet.” You promise, your legs wrapping around him. Bucky leans down to press a bruising kiss to your lips as he fucks into you faster. You moan into his mouth as pleasure rushes through you.

There’s something extremely intimate about the way he fucks into you, one hand holding onto your hip and another resting beside your head. It’s love, you realize when he pulls back to look at you with soft eyes. It does something to you, makes want rush through your veins and pulls the air from your lungs. “I love you.” You whisper into the space between you two, Bucky still pushing in and out of you.

“I love you.” His eyes slide shut and his head falls to nuzzle into your neck. “You look at me like that again I’m not gonna last, sweets.” He press a gentle kiss to your neck before beginning to suck harshly. You’re sure there will be a mark there tomorrow that you’ll never live down, but you can’t bring yourself to care when his tongue runs over the mark and your stomach clenches in excitement.

“Fuck. I’m so close, Bucky, please. I- I need-“ His hand is reaching between your bodies before you can spit the sentence out. His finger rubs against your clit as he quickens his pace. “Yes. Yes.” You moan, and you can immediately tell it’s too loud when Bucky freezes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You mutter, so close and desperate for him to resume his pace.

“I know, I’m close too, but we can’t wake the house up.” You throw your head back and bite down hard enough to draw blood when he resumes his movements. He’s rubbing at your already sensitive clit and fucking you quickly, it’s all too much as your stomach tightens in pleasure. “Yeah. I can feel you, baby. Come for me, please. I need to feel you.” His tone is deep and possessive in your ear.

When he slams into you hard, your orgasm washes over you. Your mouth opens in a moan that Bucky catches with a messy kiss. You can feel his hips stutter against you as he reaches his own high and releases into you.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, just breathing with each other. “Merry Christmas.” You laugh softly as Bucky pulls out and moves to grab a towel from his desk chair.

Bucky smiles as he comes to lay beside you again and wipes gently at your thighs. He pulls the comforter up so it’s wrapped around both of you again and pulls you so your head rests against his chest. “Merry Christmas.” He whispers in return.

You glance out the window and find that it’s snowing again. You’ll probably be snowed in for the next few days, but you don’t really mind, not with Bucky here and in your arms the way you’ve always wanted.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // this took weeks to finish and i truly hope whoever reads it through enjoys it!

my writing is free & will remain free. if you enjoy it and you have the resources, consider donating to my ko-fi :)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #steve rogers #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

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wincore · 3 years

Text

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan.

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly.

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that.

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you.

You shake it off.

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer.

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks.

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates.

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue.

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile.

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes.

“Sungchan?!”

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!”

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face.

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity.

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.”

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns.

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on.

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention.

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys.

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes.

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling.

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love.

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile.

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation.

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on.

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones.

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts.

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you.

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm.

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes.

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls.

"Do you have any bandaids?"

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.”

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you.

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind.

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers.

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans.

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him.

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade.

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan.

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead.

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly.

“Hm?”

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that.

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field.

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding.

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave.

“You should,” he responds, honest.

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile.

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties.

Only one more match, you remind yourself.

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this.

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all.

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile.

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty.

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you.

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading.

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care.

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk.

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild.

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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SLEEPLESS

a/n: omg! it's been so long since i last wrote something for harry so it feels a bit weird but in a good way to be back. i've been spending more time offline so writing hasn't been going that fast like before, but im working on a few other stuff too! just please be patient with me, im trying my besti swear! so now enjoy this oneshot of two oblivious and stupid roommates who start sharing a bed...

pairing: Roommate!Harry x reader

word count: 8.1k

masterlist

Living with three boys has its perks but also a lot of downsides too. It’s not how you planned, you were set to move in with one of your friends from second year, but she bailed on you last minute, leaving you with no place to live when most of the houses were already taken for the next at least one year. You were bracing yourself to sleep under a bridge or something already when your heroes came along.

You went to high school with Harry Niall and Louis, but you weren’t exactly in the same friend group, just knew about each other. Then you ended up in the same Lit class freshman year with Harry and he was basically your pass into their little group. You hit it off pretty easily and you always wondered why you didn’t become friends before college. Later you had two more classes with him in the second semester and it was just all a coincidence that he found out about your living situation.

“Why don’t you move in with us?” he prompted one afternoon when you were studying together in the library.

“I’m not sharing a room with any of you, Harry,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“You wouldn’t have to. We had a fourth mate living with us but he dropped out about a month ago. You could take his bedroom.”

“Are for real? You should talk about it with the boys first, don’t you think?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind it. They like you too and if I’m being honest, the place could use the touch of a woman,” he smirked and you just rolled your eyes, but you were incredibly thankful for the offer.

So after talking with Niall and Louis about it and once they gave their amens on the situation, you officially moved in with the three of them.

You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been times when you thought about choosing the bridge, living with boys is not exactly a dream. They are messy, sometimes loud and oblivious about certain things women do and need. You’ll never forget Niall’s face when you packed the shelf above the toilet with your tampons and pads. The horror in his eyes as he examined all the different sizes and types.

“But why so many? I don’t get it why you need the large ones and the mini ones too,” he huffed.

“Because I vary them according to the strength of my flow.”

“Bless you,” he scoffed and just walked away.

They tend to leave their clothes around the house and they don’t always realize when it’s time to let some fresh air into the place either. Harry has a sixth sense wanting to use the bathroom when you’re in and Louis always forgets to get rid of his spoiled food from the fridge. Tini things that surely got you thinking if it was a good idea to move in with them. But then there are times when you can’t even imagine sharing a home with anyone else than these three idiots.

The way Harry always leaves you a cup of coffee on the counter when he has an early class on mondays and wednesdays, how Niall always waits for you to get home after your night shifts at the restaurant you’ve been working at, but he always just says he was watching Supernatural on TV. You love that Louis goes out of his way to get you your favorite pastry for breakfast on sundays when he goes for his morning runs. But the absolute best is that you never feel alone or bored with these three around. Something is always happening and they make sure to involve you in everything, making you feel like part of their little pack.

Tonight is Thursday and Thursdays are movie nights in your home. It’s been a tradition since the first week and you haven’t missed any of them. Sitting on the couch at your usual spot, you laugh as Niall growls in annoyance when you suggest to watch another rom-com.

“Not again!” he protests, sitting on the floor by the coffee table you and Harry thrifted a few months ago after the previous one was broken at a smaller party held in the house.

“Why? I bet Harry would love it!” you grin, glancing at the guy in talk who is now entering the room with a big bowl of popcorn.

“Of course he would, because he is a pussy! And the two of you always team up, dragging Louis with you so I can never watch something I enjoy!” Niall whines as Harry sits next to you, not too bothered by his friend’s cries.

“Come on, I bet you enjoyed Crazy, Stupid Love last week!” you laugh, remembering how he whined for the first part, then fell asleep at the end.

“Love, if you think that was enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to be your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs and you gasp at his reply.

“Hey!” you snap at him, but can’t help laughing. This is how it always goes with you and Niall, the non-stop bickering can sometimes drive Harry and Lou insane.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, throwing some popcorn into his mouth as he gets comfortable, an arm resting on the back of the couch behind you, the other one busy with the snack in his lap.

“There is this new horror I’ve been dying to see!” Niall’s blue eyes light up right away, but you’re fast to break that shine.

“Nah, no way. I’m not watching a horror movie.”

“Why not?”

“Because I fucking hate them and they scare the shit out of me.”

“That’s like the whole point!” he protests, but you shake your head no again.

“What are you fighting about again?” Louis asks, walking into the room after his quick shower, the smell of his body wash filling the room for a few moments.

“I want to watch a horror movie, but Y/N is a little baby and she doesn’t want to.”

“I’m not a baby! I just don’t enjoy watching people get killed or demons sucking the life out of someone!” Niall just rolls his eyes at your response.

“But it’s always what you or Harry wants to watch, why can’t I choose just this once?”

“That’s not true, we watch movies you like too!” you retort, but Niall gives you an unimpressed look. “We watched that crime thing, that was your choice!”

“That was three months ago, Y/N,” he sighs and as you do some quick math you realize that he is right.

“Hey, he has a point. Let’s just watch what he wants this one time, yeah?” Harry curls his arm that’s been on the back of the couch around your shoulder and he pulls you to his side, squeezing you gently.

“But I hate horrors,” you pout, knowing well that it’s already kind of settled, you lost this battle.

“It’s just a movie. And if you get scared in the night, you can sleep at mine,” he offers with a wink that surely makes your heartbeat fasten a bit.

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a tiny crush on Harry, even back in high school, when you didn’t really know him. He was the cool guy, but not the douchebag type, more like the one that was nice to everyone and earned their respect and liking. Getting to know him just proved that he really is a great guy, but you figured he would never feel the same way about you. These three guys only saw you as their sister and that was in a way kinda worse than being friend zoned, but there’s nothing you can do about it, so you just decided to come to peace with your situation. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered when you see him wander around the house in just his boxers or when he gets a little touchy with you, which happens a lot, because that’s just how he is. Hands on your shoulders, a little squeeze on your hips, the gentle touch of his fingers on your back, they happen all the time and they get your pulse up every time. You can only hope it’s not that noticeable.

Niall finally gets what he wants and you agree to watch that stupid horror movie. It doesn’t start off too bad, but it quickly escalates and makes you shudder every time the screen gets a little darker or the music is foreshadowing that something is about to happen.

“Jesus fuck!” you jump a little when the killer appears out of nowhere in the scene.

“You alright?” Harry asks, peeking down at you.

“I fucking hate this dude,” you mumble, rubbing your face with your hands, to get your shit together. Harry chuckles lightly next to you, his arm pulling you to his side close and you gladly sink against him, the warmth of his body giving you some comfort and a sense of safety.

Your eyes are on the screen, but your mind is dancing around how his fingers are delicately running up and down your arm, drawing circles and little shapes on your skin. It could put you to sleep easily, even with the woman screaming on the screen after seeing her husband get killed.

“Just imagine the guy with a funny mustache,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer to you so he doesn’t bother the other two guys with his comment. “Or maybe in a ridiculous outfit.”

“Like… in a onsie?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the screen.

“Could be, yeah,” he chuckles quietly. “Just imagine him running through the woods in a onsie with bunnies all over it.”

You can’t push your laughter down, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t bother the others. Harry just smirks, giving you a squeeze as you’re still melted against his side on the couch, legs pulled up to your chest, while his are spread out in front of him.

“Definitely not that scary,” you giggle and Harry hums in agreement.

“Would you mind getting a fucking room, you guys? You have two, in fact!” Niall snaps at you playfully, when you start laughing again.

“Sorry, sorry!” you clear your throat, your cheeks heating up at the comment, but luckily it’s dark enough to hide your embarrassment. Niall is always quick to make dirty jokes and tease you in a way that makes you nervous, especially when it involves Harry as well. He has made plenty of comments about you and Harry since you’ve moved in, implying that the two of you sometimes act like a couple or that you should hook up. Harry is always quick to shake them off, that’s how you know he couldn’t even take the thought seriously.

At the end of the movie you feel like it wasn’t bad, not with Harry holding you close at least.

“Will you be screaming tonight, Y/N?” Niall teases you, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Either way it’s gonna be your fault.”

“I can live with that!” he laughs, bidding his goodbye before he shuts the door of his bedroom behind him.

You do your usual evening routine, get ready to bed and by the time you’re done in the bathroom all the boys have retired into their rooms. The hallway stands dark in front of you, only a tiny bit of light coming from your bedroom since you left your bedside lamp on in there, but you still can’t help the eerie feeling that washes over you. That movie didn’t sit right with you and now you have to face the aftermath of it.

Switching the lights in the bathroom off you sprint into your bedroom, pictures from the movie flashing in your mind of the killer just jumping out of nowhere. You shut the door and lean your back against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Tonight is going to be long.

No matter how hard you try, you just can’t fall asleep. You’re way too alerted, opening your eyes at the tiniest of sounds around you, which is unfortunate, because your window is looking over the main street, unlike two other rooms in the house, that are facing the small backyard. Harry and Louis have the luck to have those rooms.

Every time you’re about to fall asleep something from the movie sneaks into your thoughts and you get scared to death. Soon, you realize you won’t be able to sleep on your own tonight.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you wonder if Harry really meant that offer that you can sleep with him or not. Part of you is convinced it was just a joke, but when you hear someone shouting down the street you push your doubts aside and you quickly find yourself making your way to Harry’s room.

You knock on the room lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. The last thing you need is Niall seeing you go into Harry’s room in the middle of the night.

No answer comes from inside, but you won’t just leave it at that. Opening the door you’re facing another dark room, barely making out the furniture, but you already know the route by heart. Making it to the bed your eyes finally adjust to the darkness and you can see Harry lying on his side, sleeping peacefully. Squatting down you place a hand to his shoulder and give him a tiny shake.

“Harry?” you call out quietly, but his answer is just a huff. “Harry, it’s me,” you try again, squeezing his arm. He furrows his eyebrows before slowly blinking his eyes open, finding you in his sight.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks in that groggy, low voice you love hearing in the morning so much.

“I can’t… Did you mean that I can sleep here if I’m scared?” you ask, afraid that he might just have a good laugh and send you back to your room. For a long moment, he just blinks at you before nodding his head and you feel relief washing over you.

“Sure,” he hums.

“O-okay then I’ll bring a blanket and take the floor and--”

“Shut up, you are not sleeping on the floor,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into bed with him as he scoots over, making you space on the mattress.

It’s a bit weird at first, lying in bed with Harry, especially because it’s just queen sized, so there’s not much space between the two of you, but it seems like Harry doesn’t mind it so why should you?

Your nerves are a lot calmer with Harry next to you, but maybe it’s still because of the movie or because you’re a bit anxious about the whole situation, you just still can’t relax enough to fall asleep.

“Y/N, no one is gonna kill you here,” Harry speaks up surprising you because you thought he has already fallen back asleep.

“I know, I know,” you whisper, trying to sound convincing, but you can’t fool anyone, especially not him.

He huffs deeply and before you could realize what’s happening, Harry’s arm is curled around your waist, pulling you against him, spooning you from behind, the warmth of his body wrapping your figure almost entirely.

“If a murderer comes, they will have to fight me first, alright? Now sleep,” he mumbles against your hair, squeezing you gently. All at once, you couldn’t care about killers and dark shadows around you, because Harry was right there, holding you tight and there was nowhere you wanted to be more than right there.

You slept like a baby. Harry’s closeness kept every nightmare away from you and the morning came with ease. Harry’s phone wakes the two of you up at eight, because he has a morning class at 9.30. The two of you are completely tangled up in each other, lying on your side facing each other, Harry’s arms are wrapped around you, while yours are hugging his waist. Groaning at the sound of his alarm, he rolls to his back to reach for the phone on the nightstand and then he finally turns it off. It’s bright outside, the darkness of the night finally long gone. You’re still groggy when Harry rolls back, his arm coming back around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world and in a sense, it feels like that. But as you both slowly wake up, you realize that you might be a little too close. Slowly but surely you let go of each other, rolling to your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hope I didn’t kick you in my sleep,” you smile at him, peeking over at him, hoping to break the awkwardness of the situation.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, rubbing his eyes, before pushing himself up and off the bed. You follow him with your gaze as he steps to his dresser and grabs a pair of clean underwear. “I’ll put on a coffee while I shower, want one too?” he asks, though you know he could make one for you anyway.

“Sure, thank you,” you nod and he nods back, yawning as he walks out of the room, leaving you lying in his bed, a bit confused and kind of aching to be held by him again.

Two days pass by, everything is going as per usual, neither you nor Harry brings up that you spent the night in his bed that one particular time. Now it’s saturday and you all were planning to go out, but a sudden storm has cancelled your plans, so the evening turned into a cozy, lazy hangout instead of a wild party at some frat house.

Louis decided to work on a paper that’s due in two weeks, Niall has been relentlessly swiping on Tinder while you and Harry are spawled out on the couch, watching some shitty action movie that was on TV, since you both were too lazy to choose one and put it on. Deep down you’re a little happy you don’t have to spend the evening in a crowded, smelly house, drinking cheap alcohol.

Harry gets up from his seat to grab himself a drink just when Niall growls in annoyance.

“What is it?” you ask.

“They keep unmatching with me after we’ve talked a little!”

“Have you thought about the reason?” you smirk at him, knowing well that Niall probably isn’t the easiest to talk to, he surely takes it too far too soon.

“Well they probably don’t like that I ask them if I can go over,” he shrugs, making you laugh.

“You’d go over in the pouring rain?” Harry asks, returning to his spot on the couch. He puts his drink to the coffee table and instead of sitting into his previous position, leaning against the arm of the couch, he lies down, laying his head to your thigh, making your breath hitch for a moment.

“Of course not!” Niall rolls his eyes. “But I thought it would make them think I would do anything for them.”

“It makes you seem desperate,” Harry retorts, earning a questioning look from his friend. “What? It does!”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes it does,” you nod in agreement. “Going over in the middle of a storm just to fuck? Sounds like you’re having a hard time finding someone.”

“Women are so fucking complicated, and for what?!” he growls, before storming off to his bedroom, like an angsty teenager, leaving you and Harry alone.

He doesn’t move, his head stays on your thigh using it as a pillow. His curls are tickling the soft skin on your thigh and you have to fight the urge to play with his hair or scratch his scalp. You stay like this for the rest of the movie and when he gets up you almost want to pull him back.

“Alright, I’m fucked, I’m gonna go to bed,” he yawns, stretching his arms out into the air as he heads into his bedroom. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Night, Harry!” you call after him as you watch his frame disappear down the hallway.

Sighing, you slide down on the couch, cursing under your breath that you’re still so hung up on Harry. You really thought that you had it under control, but lately those damn butterflies are acting up in your stomach at everything he does.

“I’m pathetic,” you mumble under your breath just as the sky rumbles outside with a blinding lightning, making you jump with a squeak. “Shit,” you huff, already knowing that falling asleep will be a pain in the ass. Again.

You’ve always hated storms, they make you think that something bad is about to happen, a tree is about to fall into the window or a lightning will blow up the building. It’s kind of stupid, you know it, but you just can’t help it.

Tossing and turning, you jump every time a lightning flashes somewhere outside and a few seconds later the thunder rips through your whole body, almost making you fall off the bed.

“Oh God,” you let out a shaky breath. You have no idea how long it is until the Storm finally stops and you’d really like to have a good night's sleep. So pushing your anxious thoughts to the side, you get out of bed and head over to Harry’s room once again.

It’s such a deja vu from a few nights ago, as you gently knock on the door you wait again, but this time you actually get an answer.

“Yeah?” you hear him call out from inside and you slowly open the door, peeking your head inside. Harry is lying in bed, his head propped up against the headboard as he is scrolling through his phone. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” he asks, putting the phone aside as he sits up.

“I just, I-I know it’s stupid, but I was thinking… I don’t know--”

“Y/N, just tell me, alright? Come on in,” he gestures for you and you slip into the room, closing the door behind you before sitting to the edge of the bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep during storms…” you admit, looking into his eyes, hoping he gets the hint where you want to head with it. He stares back at you for a moment before he scoots over, lifting the covers up, giving you the green light to join him.

Relieved, you climb over to him, making yourself comfortable as he wraps the blanket over you, his arm immediately coming to cradle you, this time pulling you to his chest so your head is laid upon his shoulder, a hand gently placed onto his hard chest, probably right above where his butterfly tattoo is adorning his abdomen.

This is now easily your favorite place. Safe and tight in Harry’s arms, protected from anything and everything, like you’re in a little bubble as soon as you get on his bed.

Lightning strikes outside again and you shiver a little. Harry probably notices it, because he tightens his hold around you, as if it’s his way telling you that he is here and nothing bad is gonna happen. Eventually, you’re able to shut the outside out and only focus on Harry’s warmth, the touch of his hand on your arm and his even breathing. And then finally, you drift off to sleep.

This morning is different from the previous one you spent here. There’s no alarm since it’s Sunday, neither of you have anything in particular to do, so you wake up feeling rested, the Sun shining through his half drawn in curtains, no trace of last night’s storm can be noticed from where you’re lying in bed, the sky is as clear as ever. Sometime during the night you got tangled in a way where Harry is the one now cuddling you, his head lying on your chest, hugging you as if you were a giant teddy bear, his leg thrown between yours, lightly snoring against your sleep shirt. You can only see his mop of hair and the urge to play with them is back, but this time, you give in.

Leaving one hand on his back, you move the other one to his unruly locks, gently playing with one before you comb your fingers through it, lightly scratching his scalp. Harry hums in pleasure, shifting from his dreams back to reality, but he doesn’t move, just keeps humming as you massage his scalp.

“It’s not a good morning, it’s the best,” he mumbles groggily, making you chuckle at his words.

One of his hands is flat against your ribcage and the damned butterflies start dancing when you feel his fingers gently stroke your side as you keep playing with his curls. This feels so idyllic, as if you’ve been like this forever. You wish that was true.

Groaning as he stretches, Harry rolls to his back, making you instantly miss his body pressed against yours. He rubs his eyes, sighing deep as he blinks up at the ceiling a few times, then he turns his head to the side, looking at you.

Just when he is about to say something, outside his door it sounds like someone just broke a pile of plates and it’s followed by Niall’s usual annoyed growl. You both get out of bed to go and check what happened, not even thinking about how it might appear that you both are coming from Harry’s room in the morning.

Harry flings the door open and there is Niall, collecting pieces of a plate from the floor, his breakfast scattered down the hallway as well while he curses under his breath.

“What happened?” Harry asks, picking up a bigger piece from the plate.

“Fucking tripped,” he growls back, glancing up just for a moment, then back down, but then he processes that you’re standing behind Harry, in his room, in the morning. “What the fuck are you doing in Harry’s room?” he bluntly asks, quickly forgetting about the mess he just made.

“What?” you ask nervously, your pulse quickening in an instant. Harry stands up, seemingly not too bothered by Niall’s question.

“You slept in his room?!”

“She did,” Harry answers, leaning against the doorframe.

“Wait, are you two fucking?” Niall’s eyes widen, snapping back and forth between you and Harry.

“Just because two people sleep in the same bed, doesn’t mean they are fucking, Niall,” Harry chuckles, seemingly amused by the situation that’s got your stomach knotted. Louis’ door opens and he walks out, his hair a little messy, but already dressed, a mug halfway filled with coffee in his hand.

“Wha’s this circus out here?” he asks, looking around, his eyes scanning over the mess on the floor.

“Did you know these two are fucking?” Niall asks him and Harry lets his head drop back at his words.

“Are you?” Louis simply questions and you shake your head no.

“We are not. Y/N can’t sleep in a storm so she came over to mine.”

“Funny, she doesn’t come to me when she’s scared,” Niall scoffs.

“I never came to you because you don’t understand that sleeping together doesn’t mean sex,” you retort, though your ears are practically burning from the rising anxiety inside you.

“Wait, whoa. This wasn’t the first time you two slept together?”

“She was scared after your stupid horror movie too,” Harry shrugs.

“Wow, so are you guys a thing now or what?”

“Niall!” Harry growls and you’re not entirely sure what bothers you more. Niall’s shock and interrogation or the way Harry seems so cool and unbothered, like it’s no big deal. Maybe because for him it really isn’t, it’s only about the sleeping, nothing else, even though the cuddles are a little beyond the lines of friendship.

“What? I’m just asking the important stuff! Am I not allowed to tell dirty jokes to Y/N because you’ll cut my prick off?”

“You shouldn’t tell those anyway,” Louis chimes in and you nod in agreement.

Seeing that the conversation is just getting more and more awkward with each passing moment you decide to pull yourself out of it. Pushing yourself past Harry you mumble an excuse me before rushing back into your room, the three boys eyeing you curiously as you shut the door behind you, finally putting a physical barrier between you and them.

You shouldn’t be this offended, it’s not like any promises were made and you should have known better and not fall for him more than you already did. It was silly of you to think that there was anything more behind these nights spent curled up against each other, or when you woke up tangled and melted together. It was never what you hoped it to be.

Then and there you decide it’s better if you distanced yourself from him, or at least go back to how it was before. No bed sharing, no cuddling and preferably no bitter feelings.

It all goes well, because you have a pretty busy week after that day, you always have something to do and it’s not like you spent the night with Harry randomly, so it was evident that you stayed in your room so far.

But about a week later another storm was threatening to strike. The sky was gradually darkening all afternoon and now it’s only five o’clock, but it feels like eight. It’s Sunday, you’re quite exhausted since you were working until three. Niall was out somewhere with some of his coursemates and Louis went home for the weekend, won’t be back until Tuesday. It’s just you and Harry, who’s been sprawled out on the couch in only his sweatpants while you’re making yourself an early dinner so you can go to bed soon and have a good night’s sleep.

It doesn’t take long for the rain to start pouring, you’ve just gotten out of the shower when the first thunder rips through the place, making you gasp in fear. Harry’s head snaps around, looking in your way where you’re standing at the bathroom door, a questioning look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. Ignoring his gaze, you just make your way into your bedroom, not even thinking about what could be on his mind. Is he thinking about whether you’ll ask to sleep with him again or he doesn’t care about it at all?

By the time you are ready to go to bed, the storm is fully raging outside, making your insides tremble every time you see a lightning or the thunder breaks the quietness in the house. You make one last trip to the kitchen, finding Harry leaned against the counter as he eats an apple.

“Going to bed early?” he asks as you pour yourself some water.

“Mhm,” you nod, avoiding looking at him.

“Everything alright?”

“Sure, I’m just tired,” you force a small smile onto your face just when a thunder rumbles outside, making you jump. Harry is watching you curiously and kind of expectantly, but you’re doing your best ignoring it. Instead, you just grab your water and head back to your room. “Good night.”

“Night, Y/N,” he calls after you, and you can feel his burning gaze on your back right until you close the door behind you.

Your plan to sleep a good ten hours goes right out the window. It doesn’t seem like the storm is about to calm anytime soon, so you’re stuck to suffer through it on your own. You’ll be damned to go to Harry’s, that would be an instant heart break and you just can’t take that right now. Long, torturous hours pass by with you lying awake in bed and part of you wants to go running over to Harry, but you force yourself to stay. It’s not happening tonight.

You fall asleep sometime after two in the morning when the thunder and lightning have stopped. Unfortunately, you need to wake up early in the morning, so when your phone’s alarm shakes you out of your sleep, you feel like absolute shit. Dragging yourself out of bed appears to be the hardest thing right now. As you make your way out, you are met with an all too familiar figure sitting at the small dining table, two cups of coffees in front of him, one obviously made for you.

Harry’s eyes snap up at you curiously, taking in your terrible looks as you head to the bathroom.

“Morning,” you mumble under your breath.

“Good morning’,” he nods in your way and though he doesn’t say anything else, you can tell he has a few thoughts about your current state.

Once you’re done with your morning business in there you join him at the table, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Rough night?” he asks, eyes examining your face.

“Kinda.”

“The storm?”

You don’t answer, just nod your head. He remains silent, but you can feel that he is dying to ask another question.

Why didn’t you come over?

You’re glad he doesn’t actually asks you, because you wouldn’t be able to give either a normal answer or say anything without starting to cry. Instead, you just grab your coffee and head back into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

That week on Friday all four of you are invited to a party. At first you want to cancel, but some of your friends from classes will be there too and it’s been ages since you’ve been to a great party, so you decide to tag along with the boys.

For the first half of the evening you go your separate way, spending time with people you don’t actually live with and see every day. One drink follows the other, though you make sure you don’t go farther than getting tipsy. You’re not in the mood to deal with a nasty hangover in the morning.

Sometime after your third or fourth drink you run into Niall and he pulls you into their little circle that also involves Harry. When he sees that you’ve joined them, his eyes light up and goes out of his way to get next to you.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” he whines, slurring his words as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you at his side. He is definitely drunk, that you’re sure of.

“It’s been just about two hours, Harry,” you roll your eyes, but can’t push your smile down. You’d be lying if you said you’re not enjoying having him so close. Your dynamic hasn’t been the same since you stopped sleeping in his bed. Not that it was such a regular activity, it only happened two times.

“But I missed you, I feel like we haven’t… haven’t talked in so long!” he huffs, knitting his eyebrows together. “Have you been avoiding me?” he asks leaning closer, so your conversation can somewhat be private.

“That’s silly. Of course I haven’t!”

“But it feels like that,” he pouts with glossy eyes. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Sure,” you nod, the bitter taste of lying filling your mouth.

“Alright, cool,” he smirks and pulling closer he kisses into your hair before he engages with the rest of the group again, keeping his arm around you as if it wasn’t a big deal.

For the rest of the evening you simply don’t leave his side and not because he doesn’t let you, but because you don’t want to. Harry is not the only one missing the other, this week you’ve noticed that even though you’ve been keeping yourself busy, your thoughts always took you back to one particular, curly haired boy. Despite everything that’s been going on, he is your friend first and foremost who you love spending time with and talking about anything and everything.

Both of you are intoxicated, Harry a bit more than you, but you’re having a blast playing beerpong or ruining Niall’s chances with girls he is trying to pick up. You’re genuinely having an amazing time and it wouldn’t be the same without Harry.

Arriving back home your little group splits, everyone using the bathroom after the other and you’re the last one in line, because you always take the longest. By the time you’re finished, Louis and Niall are both locked up in their rooms, but Harry’s door is still open, some dim lighting illuminating the hallway. As you approach it, you find him throwing his dirty clothes into the hamper, but his head perks up when he sees you.

“Good night, H,” you sigh, quite tired and in need of a good sleep, but before you could head into your own bedroom, Harry grabs your wrist and pulls you into his. “What is it?”

“Sleep here,” he simply prompts, already leading you to the bed.

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“I-I… I don’t--” you stutter, feeling flustered from his offer.

“Come on, you can’t say no,” he tells you, already crawling under his covers and then he holds them up as the invitation.

Taking a deep breath you follow him and make yourself comfortable in your almost usual spot. Harry’s arm falls over your waist in an instant, spooning you from behind as he hums pleased. But a few moments later he lifts his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“You know you can say no, right? I was just joking.” Looking back at him you give him a small smile. Even drunk he makes sure you aren’t doing anything you don’t want to, but how could you not want it? You’ve been aching to sleep next to him all week, especially after the last storm when you suffered alone in your room.

“I know, Harry.”

“Alright, okay,” he nods, his head dropping back to the pillow. “I missed this,” he mumbles with a sigh.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, sleeping alone sucks,” he hums and in a split second, your heart breaks.

Harry didn’t want to sleep with you, he just wanted to sleep with someone and you were the one there. It has nothing to do with you.

You want to blame him, you want it to be his fault that your chest is now aching, knowing that it truly doesn’t mean the same thing to him it does to you, but you know you can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, so once again, you’re left with a sinking heart wrapped up into Harry’s embrace that suddenly feels burning.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

When the morning comes Harry is still sleeping deep beside you, an arm thrown over your waist, puffing warm air against the side of your head with every breath he exhales. Seeing him so peaceful warms your heart, but then you realize everything that happened last night, how he only used you because you were available and not because he wanted you.

You don’t want to wait for him to wake up and face him, your emotions would surely bring the best out of you. So carefully, you unwrap yourself from his hold and sneak out of his room, back into yours.

There’s no way you can face Harry right now, so before he could wake up you leave, planning on spending the day in the library, working on your assignments, hoping the school work will take your mind off of how badly you’ve been friendzoned.

Sometime after eleven Harry actually texts you asking where you went and you just tell him you have a shitload of school stuff to deal with. He asks if he can join you, but you tell him you’re with a group of your classmates, even though you’re sitting in an almost entirely empty library. He luckily doesn’t push it and leaves you to be. Hopefully he’ll be fine when you take another step away from him for a while to get your head straight and sort your emotions out.

You get home quite late, but not late enough, apparently. Because walking into the house you find the boys clearly getting ready to watch a movie.

“Just in time!” Niall beams. “Join us, Princess!” he laughs, grabbing himself a cola from the fridge.

“Oh, no, I have some things to work on--”

“Come on, you’ve been in the library all day, you can have a break!” Louis tells you and you know you won’t be left alone, they are just so persistent.

So you join them in your usual spot, which is of course next to Harry, though you’re trying to avoid his gaze that hasn’t left you since you arrived and by now you’re certain he knows you’re avoiding him. There’s a reason why he asked you last night if you’ve been doing it lately, he is not stupid, but this is not the time to deal with it.

With your inner crisis bubbling inside you, you completely forget to ask what you’re watching. A few minutes into the movie it becomes quite clear however.

“Is this a fucking horror movie again?” you ask, snapping at Niall, who just starts laughing.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Harry will gladly let you sleep in his bed tonight,” he teases, making your whole face heat up at his comment. Harry slaps his chest before he turns to you with concern filled eyes, but you pretend like you see nothing, turning back to the screen with your jaw clenched.

You’re fucked.

The movie is a fucking shitshow and leaves you traumatized. When it’s over, you think about why didn’t you just stand up and go into your room when you realized it’s another horror. For a change, this one was filled with demons and monsters that hide in the shadows, just what you need before going to bed. In the night. In a totally dark room.

Exiting the bathroom you’re already planning on watching something lighthearted and cheerful in your room, hoping that would make you forget the movie you just saw and give you the chance to actually sleep.

Walking past Harry’s room you see that it’s still open and you catch him expectantly looking at you when you appear in the doorway as you walk down the hallway, your eyes meeting for just a split second before you disappear from his sight and shut your bedroom door without a word behind you.

No matter how many random videos you watch on YouTube, some scenes from the movie are just imprinted into your mind and they have you trembling in fear. Every shadow looks like a demon or ghost, hiding in your room, ready to haunt and kill you and you’re on the verge of actually crying. It might not be only because of the movie, more like everything else that’s been bottled up inside you, added to the fear the movie has brought to you.

Shutting your eyes closed you try to take deep breaths and for a bit it actually seems to help, but that is until you hear the door opening. It gives you an instant heart attack and you can’t keep your tears back anymore.

A whimper leaves your mouth as the door opens and you can only see a shadow entering the room, totally not recognizing Harry in the dark.

“Y/N, hey, it’s just me! It’s okay!” he quickly clears, seeing how shaken up you are. He rushes over to the bed, one hand cupping your cheek, the other one finding your hand and before you could think, you grip it hard.

“You scared the living hell out of me!” you cry out, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check on you.”

Silence sets between the two of you that’s only momentarily broken by your shaky breaths as you try to calm yourself down.

“Why didn’t you come to mine after the movie if you were so scared?” he then asks, surprising you with how straightforward he is.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumble, blinking the remaining of the tears away as Harry stares down at you intently.

“Why would you think you’d bother me? I like having you there.”

“But it’s… Doesn’t matter,” you sigh in defeat, but it just concerns him even more.

“No, tell me!”

“Harry, just go back to your room. I’ll be fine.”

“You definitely won’t and I’m not leaving until you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he protests firmly and you lose your patience to keep lying to him.

“You just wanted someone to sleep with yesterday, okay? You didn’t need me. And… I don’t want to depend on you more than I should.”

Harry stares back at you with a blank expression and you feel like this is going to be the end of your friendship. You have to come clean about your feelings and he’ll tell you that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he speaks up and the tables turn faster than ever.

“Y/N, I wanted you to sleep with me last night. Not just anyone. You.”

“What?”

“I really thought we have been on the same page, but apparently, we’re not even in the same book,” he sighs, confusing you even more. “Wasn’t it suspicious how things have been between us lately? The way we slept, the mornings, did you think these are normal things to do?”

“I-I thought that… it didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Well it did,” he replies and you breath hitches in your throat. “I was trying to take it slow, see how you’d react to everything and I thought you were feeling the same way. But then last time you didn’t come to my room when there was a storm and I thought that was your way of telling me that you want to pause whatever’s been going on.”

You’re just blinking in shock, listening to his words. This is nothing you expected.

“But then you seemed like you opened back up last night and you agreed to sleep with me, thought we were back on track, but then you were nowhere to be found in the morning, avoided me all day and now you would have rather spent the night crying here alone than to come over to me. What did I do? Just tell me, because quite frankly, I have no idea what we are doing anymore, Y/N,” he sighs, clearly tired of this insane game you’ve been playing without even knowing.

“So… you did all of this, because… you…”

“Because I like you, Y/N. But there’s a possibility it’s already way more than just a strong liking,” he admits with a soft chuckle that melts you in an instant.

“Oh god, I could cry again, but not out of fear this time,” you tell him, making him laugh as you scoot closer to him on the mattress. “I feel the same way, Harry,” you softly tell him, your hands finding the base of his neck while his hands have wandered to your waist so now he is pulling you towards him until he ends up in his lap. His face is now so close, and even in the dark, you can see the cheesy smile on his pink lips.

“You’re not saying this just to keep me here because you’re scared to be alone, right?” he asks, clearly joking, earning a wholehearted laugh from you.

“No, but I guess that would be a major benefit of it.”

“I’ll protect you from all the demons and killers under one condition,” he smirks, his face already inching closer, his nose is already touching yours.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“I get to kiss you.”

“Deal.”

You barely say this one little word, his lips are already on yours, kissing you in a way that almost knocks all the air out of your lungs. You press yourself up against him, his arms curling around you, holding you tight as if he is already protecting you from everything that scares you, though you can’t really think about the stupid horror movies now that you’re kissing Harry.

He pulls you down with himself making you lie on your back as he holds himself up above you, his lips parting from your just enough so he can look into your eyes.

“How about I kiss you every time you feel scared?” he prompts, pecking your lips gently as you pull your legs up and his hips settle between your thighs, while your hands dance down his back.

“Alright, I’m in,” you smirk at him and for a moment he just stares back at you, smiling wide, in complete awe that it’s finally happening. Then he cocks his head to the side before speaking up.

“Are you still scared?”

“Very,” you nod. “I’m shaking.”

“Good,” he grins before his lips press onto yours again.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles one shots #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic

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rehkkuma · 3 years

Note

Yasss the request are open!! Your writing is amazing so could i ask for Caesar and reader with the "there's only one bed" trope? That could lead to something more spicy 👀 if your comfortable with it of course

i haven't written anything caesar-related so i'm glad the one-bed trope is the first request!! ≧◡≦ i tried to make it a bit spicy but i just got carried away with the fluff lol. hope this is alright, anon!

a lucky coincidence | caesar x reader

words: 1.48k.

disclaimers/tags: fem pronouns, fluff.

"My body-" you muttered, hand covering your eyes. "I can't feel anything. I can't tell if I'm dying or already dead!"

Joseph scoffed. "Such a drama queen." He stretched his neck and cracked his knuckles. "Look at me right now! I was on the hell climb pillar the longest and I'm doing just great!"

"I guess that proves that Y/n and I are much more capable hamon users." Caesar interrupted. "I recall, we both finished earlier than you did."

The brown-haired boy let out an awkward cough. "10 minutes isn't that much anyway. You could finish a whole box of pizza in less than that time!"

Caesar gave Joseph an unimpressed look before smiling at you. "Let's just ignore him."

You chuckled, "Was planning to anyways."

Joseph crossed his arms with annoyance. "You guys are so boring." He then strutted off, heading off to the room he was given earlier.

You and Caesar turned around to laugh. Ever since the two of you started training under Lisa Lisa years ago, you had gotten unbelievably close. Back when you both lived with Lisa Lisa for everyday training, you only had each other. Since you both have given up on school to become stronger, no one knew you better than Caesar.

You were there to see him grow. From watching him mature from a young boy to a man, you couldn't help but fall in love with him. There had always been romantic tension between you two, but there was also a fair amount of friend-zoning. Since you practically grew up as teammates, it was hard to transform your relationship into something less platonic.

"I'm gonna head to my room now," you said. "I'll see you tomorrow! Sleep well, Caesar!"

Caesar nodded. "Sleep well."

You both parted ways to go to your rooms, but you were abruptly stopped by one of the island's maids, Suzie Q.

"Ah, Y/n!" the cute girl chirped. "I guess Lisa Lisa hasn't told you yet, but your room is under renovation!"

"O-Oh," you frowned.

"Yeah. It's been a while since that room's been occupied, so it's kind of falling apart now. I heard it'll all be fixed by the end of the week, though," she said.

Disappointed, you crossed your arms and let out a sigh. You turned to look behind you, noticing that Caesar was still there, listening intently.

"If it's not a problem, you could sleep in my room," he suggested. "There's only one bed, but I think it'll be big enough for the two of us."

You blushed at the thought of sleeping next to Caesar. When you were younger, he'd let you sleep in his bed whenever you had nightmares. But yet again, you were both young. Sleeping next to him now would be... a lot different.

"It's not a problem!" You smiled and walked beside Caesar. "Just don't snore too loud."

The blond laughed. "Of course I won't. Wouldn't want to wake up the princess now, do I?"

* * *

For the next hour, you and Caesar remained far apart in the room. You were on an armchair reading a book while Caesar was writing a letter to his family. He'd occasionally start small talk, but go back to his work minutes after. Eventually, he turned off his desk lamp and sealed his letter inside an envelope. He got up from his seat and stretched his body, walking to where you were sitting afterwards.

"Is the book that fun, Y/n?" Caesar said softly in your ear.

"Mhm! I'm on an interesting chapter right now." You slightly tilted the book for Caesar to see.

"Ah..." he mumbled. He brought his face closer to the book, now side-by-side with your face too. His eyes dashed across the pages, reading bits and pieces of the book. Every now and then, he'd mumble a sentence or two out loud. Once he believed he read enough, he moved back from your chair and nodded. "This book does seem fun, but I think it's getting late now. I don't want to see you tired during training tomorrow. I doubt she's going to go any easier on us."

You looked over to the bed you and Caesar would be sharing. Nervously, you closed your book and placed it on a small table beside the arm chair. "Yeah, you're right. Now would be a good time to sleep."

Caesar smiled and walked over to the bed. He was already in his pyjamas (his usual cropped tank top and loose pants), but you noticed him change out of his top. His shirt and arms above his head, abs flexing, and hair getting caught in the neck hole: was he just doing this on purpose?

Now shirtless, he folded the piece of clothing on a nightstand. With the moonlight shining into the bedroom, you could see the light shining off his abdomen, enhancing his muscles even more. You knew he was a well-built man, but you seriously underestimated his figure. You tried to recall when Caesar ever had the time to get so jacked, but stopped once you saw him looking back at you.

"Ah, sorry. I should've asked before. Is it alright if I sleep like this?" He asked.

You looked down at the carpet, blushing. "Y-Yeah, it's fine. I know it gets hot at night, so I don't mind..."

Caesar smiled. "Alright, then what are you waiting for? Come join me. You're going to be cold if you just stay there all night."

"Right..!" You turned off your reading lamp and skittishly walked to the bed. Awkwardly, you uncovered the bedsheets and laid next to the blond. Caesar was laying on his side towards your direction, so you instinctively turned the other way around.

"Goodnight," Caesar whispered.

"Goodnight." Your eyes slowly closed, ready to fall asleep. The pillows were comfy, the sheets were freshly cleaned, but you couldn't sleep no matter how hard you tried. The sound of your heart beating was too loud for you to ignore. You'd switch sleeping positions, hoping it would provide more comfort, but nothing worked. If you wanted to get good rest, you would've needed to not be sleeping next to Caesar (and shirtless nevertheless).

"Can't fall asleep?" Caesar asked in a sweet voice.

"No..." you said back. "I guess I'm just extremely stressed for Joseph's sake."

That wasn't a complete lie, but you knew very well that you were more anxious about your current situation.

"I am too, if I'm being honest." Caesar gently grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him and his emerald eyes. "Remember when we were younger? You'd knock on my door, all teary-eyed from having nightmares?"

You nodded, embarrassed. "You don't need to remind me."

"Why not? You were so cute back then. You're still adorable now, but it's still kind of scary knowing that you're more well-versed with hamon now than before."

"Adorable?" you repeated. "Me?"

"Of course. You really should've seen yourself back then; young girl, knocking up into my room, proceeding to take the entire bed while drooling on my shoulder? Maybe right now is the karma you get for all the sleepless nights I've had in the past because of you."

"S-Sorry," you said.

"I'm just joking," Caesar chuckled. "I know we're not teenagers anymore, but you can sleep on my shoulder again if you're having trouble."

You were glad that all the lights were off. Otherwise, Caesar would've noticed the rosy look on your face.

"Thank you..." There was no point in declining his suggestion at this point. You shifted yourself closer to Caesar and laid on his chest. His skin was soft and his chest was like a pillow. Despite your heart beating fast before, you began to calm down from hearing Caesar's faint breaths. He moved his arm around your body and then stroked your arm. With your shared body heat, your whole body felt warm and fuzzy.

"Y/n..." Caesar said softly, almost falling asleep. "Sleep well." He leaned over and kissed tip of your nose before drifting off to sleep shortly after.

"H-Hey!" you called out, shaking Caesar to wake him up again.

"Hm? What seems to be the issue?"

You hated how calm he was being. He'd always pull off things like this and not say a word afterwords, wanting to watch you get flushed from his teasing. Did he like you? Was he being friendly? It didn't matter at this point because you were going to pull the same trick on him.

You leaned in towards Caesar's face and kissed him gently on the lips. Your mind was racing, but your lips acted like they knew what they were doing. Slowly, you parted away from Caesar with his taste still lingering on your mouth. With a small smirk, you turned to face the other way of Caesar. "Goodnight," you whispered.

For the first time, you heard Caesar stutter. "G-Goodnight," he replied.

#jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure headcanons #jojo reader insert #jojos bizarre adventure fanfic #jojos bizarre adventure x reader #caesar x reader #caesar zeppeli x reader #jojo x reader #caesar zeppeli fanfic #jojo fanfiction #jojo scenarios #jojos bizarre adventure #fluff #caesar imagine

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Kiwi

Pairing: Peter Parker x film enthusiast!reader

Synopsis: Peter is skeptical of your new guy friend

Masterlist

You were a bit of a film nerd.

You always had something to say about a film. Whether it was random trivia about the actors or the original version of the script, you knew it and you had to share. Every time Peter heard you say, “did you know…”, during a movie, he knew he was in for something great. You seemed to know everything about every movie, and it brought Peter a great deal of amusement. His favorite thing, however, was when you showed him your favorite movies. You’d stay silent during these, always so enchanted by them. But when your favorite scene was coming, you’d let Peter know by giving his hand an anxious squeeze. That’s when he knew he had to stop looking at you and pay attention.

“Okay.” You turned the movie off and looked at Peter. “Be honest. What did you think?”

“I liked it.” Peter lied. He had barely paid attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the soft smile that rested on your lips throughout the film.

“That’s all?” You whined. “Did you know it took seven years to animate that dinner scene? Seven years for a three minute sequence. Isn’t that amazing?”

“It is.” Peter chuckled. “I was very impressed.”

“Me too.” You gushed. “It gets better every time.

“I bet. So how was your day today?” Peter asked as you laid your head down on his lap.

“I had a great day, actually.” You smiled up at him.

“Yeah?” Peter grinned as he stroked your hair. “What happened?”

“I was talking about The Babadook in theater today and this guy chimed in and told me it was his favorite horror film. Other than Midsommer, obviously.” You began. “Apparently he loves movies just as much as I do. Can you believe that?”

“Wow.” Peter nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Kevin.” You answered. “We’ve been texting all day. He’s making a list of his favorite movies and I’m making him a list of mine. God, I love when you meet someone and instantly click.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Peter said a little flatly. He didn’t love that you’d been texting this guy all day, especially when Peter didn’t know him. What he loved even less was how much you had in common with this guy.

As the weeks went on, Peter heard at least one mention of Kevin a day. Whether he was sending you a funny Tik tok or asking you for movie recommendations, Peter always saw his name on your phone. He checked out Kevin’s Instagram to see what he was like and saw a picture of the two of you with your arms around each other. Whenever Peter checked Kevin’s story on Snapchat, you were usually in in the background. It bothered Peter more than he liked, but he didn’t want to tell you he was jealous. He didn’t want you to think that he didn’t trust you, but he wasn’t so sure he trusted Kevin.

“Whats so funny?” Peter asked when he heard a giggle escape your lips. You were sitting on Peter’s bed, staring at your phone while he did his homework.

“It’s Kevin.” You chuckled as you typed something back. “I thought everyone in that class was uptight but he’s hilarious. I can’t believe we never spoke before this month. He’s like the funniest guy I know.”

“Wow. Good for you.” He smiled softly. “I’m glad you made a friend.”

“Me too. But enough about him. I want to hear about my lovely boyfriend.” You left your phone on the bed and went to Peter’s desk to sit with him. You sat down on his lap and wrapped your arms around him, bringing him into a long kiss.

“Your lovely boyfriend is very stressed about his annotated bibliography.” Peter sighed when he pulled away.

“Aw.” You cooed. “What’s it on?”

“Residential segregation in urban areas.” Peter told you.

“Hm.” You frowned. “I don’t know too much about that. But I could tell you five films that deal with it.”

“I’d love to hear them.” Peter smiled before leaning in for another kiss. Your kiss was cut short by the sound of your phone ringing.

“Hang on.” You sighed. “Sorry.”

“Who is it?” Peter asked as you went back to your phone.

“Kevin.” You answered before picking up. Peter frowned, feeling insecurity settle in his tummy.

“Hello?” You laughed softly. “I’m good. Yeah. It was Moonrise Kingdom. You’re welcome. Bye.”

“Sorry.” You said as you tossed your phone back on the bed. “He couldn’t remember the title of the movie I told him to watch.”

“Hm.” Peter nodded, not trusting himself to say anything helpful.

“Is everything okay?” You asked as you sat back down on his lap.

“Yeah.” He lied. “Everything is okay.”

A few weeks later, Peter was walking down the hallway when he spotted Kevin by the water fountain. He was too busy talking to some boy to notice Peter. Peter was thankful for this, since he was supposed to meet you between classes and he didn’t want Kevin to interrupt.

“There you are.” You came down the hallway and threw your arms around Peter. “Hi baby.”

“Hey princess.” Peter smiled before pulling you into a long kiss. He opened his eyes and flicked them up to see if Kevin was still there, which he was. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss out of spite.

“Woah.” You pulled away breathlessly after a minute. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just wanted to show you some love. Since I love you so much.” Peter shrugged before kissing you again.

“I love you too.” You giggled between kisses.

“Do you want to come over after class today? I have a lot more love I want to show you.” Peter mumbled against your lips. He flicked his eyes to the side again and this time, Kevin was watching. He was too far to hear your conversation, but he could clearly see how affectionate Peter was.

“Yes, please.” You bit your bottom lip. “But I can’t come until after four. Kiwi and I-“

“Kiwi?” Peter wondered.

“Sorry, Kevin. Kiwi is my nickname for him.” You explained as Peter’s smile fell. “He and I were gonna get coffee after class.”

“Alone?” Peter pulled away a little with a pour. “Like on a date?”

“No.” You laughed. “Peter, Kevin is-“

“Can we not talk about Kevin?” He cut you off and pulled you back into his arms. “I want to hear about your day. How was class?”

“Good. It’s just so long. I can’t sit through it all without zoning out. That’s usually when I start thinking about you.” You smirked as you rubbed your nose against his.

“Thinking about little old me?” Peter touched a hand to his chest before pulled you into another kiss. He slid his hand down your body and gave your butt a squeeze, making sure he was extra affectionate in front of Kevin.

“Whew.” You pulled away in surprises for laughed. “We are in the hallway, mister. Save that for later.”

“I will.” He smacked your butt for good measure. “I’ll see you after four.”

“See you.” You blew him a kiss as you walked away. Peter smirked and leaned against the wall, pleased with himself for his little public display of affection.

Since Kevin was so very fond of posting you on his social media, Peter made sure to put a picture of you sleeping on his story. He added the caption “when she sleeps in your bed more than her own” just so everyone knew what was going on.

A few weeks later, you went to Peter’s dorm after a long day of classes in need of some cuddles. You opened Peter’s door and found him laying in his bed.

“Hey, princess.” He sat up a little in his bed. “You had a midterm today right?”

“Yeah. I didn’t do too well though.” You sighed. “There was an essay at the end that I didn’t really know how to answer.”

“I’m sorry.” He frowned and opened his arms to you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” You mumbled as you climbed into his arms. “I was kinda bummed but then Kevin and I went to Dunkin so I feel better. It’s just a test.”

Peter quieted down when you mentioned Kevin, feeling that familiar sense of jealousy in his stomach.

“Is something wrong?” You noticed his mood change.

“Why are you and Kevin always together?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “We just like spending time together.”

“Do you hang out in a group or just you and him?” Peter wondered.

“Usually just me and him.” You told him, which is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Peter pouted and tilted his chin up, not wanting you to see that he was upset.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up a little to stroke his face.

“He knows everything about movies. He’s the funniest guy you know.” Peter repeated the words you used. “And he takes up all your time. I don’t know, I’m a little worried.”

“About what? Kevin is just a friend.”

“But is that all he wants to be?” Peter asked. “Think about it, princess. You have the same passion as him and you’re drop dead gorgeous. There’s no way he’s not into you.”

“I promise you, he’s not.” You chuckled softly. “And he knows I have a boyfriend. I talk about you all the time.”

“You talk about him all the time too.” Peter said quietly.

“Hey, Petey.” You rolled on top of him and cupped his face. “You have no reason to be worried or jealous. I love you, okay? No one could take your place.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, satisfied with what you said. “I believe you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me how you were feeling.” You smiled softly. “I’ll stop talking about him as much if it bothers you.”

You kept your word and stopped bringing Kevin up, which Peter appreciated. What Peter didn’t know was he’d still have you watch you laugh at Kevin’s texts and see the two of you in the hallways.

A few weeks later, Peter surprised you outside of your economics class during his free period.

“Hey, princess.” He came up behind you and pulled you into a hug.

“Peter!” You lit up. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Really?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Kevin is about to get out of class. You can finally meet him.” You told him, and his smile fell. Of course your excitement was Kevin related. Before Peter could respond, Kevin walked out of a classroom and went up to you.

“There’s my girl.” He squeezed your hand. “How was economics?”

“Boring but he wore those pants again.” You laughed a little. Kevin seemed to know exactly what you were talking about, but Peter didn't.

“Did you take a picture?” Kevin’s eyes widened in excitement.

“I couldn’t.” You whined. “He was always facing us.”

“Ugh. Next time.” Kevin laughed. Peter looked between the two of you and cleared his throat, signaling that he was there.

“Oh, right.” You giggled. “Kevin, this is Peter.”

“It’s about time.” Kevin reached out to shake Peter’s hand. “Y/n told me all about you, Mr. Biochemistry and engineering major.”

“Nice to meet you.” Peter said stiffly as he draped an arm over your shoulders.

“You too.” Kevin smiled. “I gotta say, you’re the luckiest man in the world to be dating Y/n. I’m ready to marry her and I’ve only known her two months.”

“Yeah, well.” Peter smiled tightly and pulled you closer. “She’s taken.”

“I know.” Kevin sighed wistfully. “She never lets me forget it.”

“Haha.” Peter faked a laugh and hugged you even tighter. “I won’t either.”

“Aw.” Kevin smiled at the two of you. “Well, I wish I could stay but I have class in five minutes. It was great to meet you, Peter. We should all hang out soon.”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Sure.”

“Bye Kiwi.” You called after him once he w no as walked away. You turned to Peter to see his reaction and noticed the displeased look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Did he seriously just say he wanted to marry you? In front of me?” Peter asked angrily.

“He was kidding.” You assured him. “He would never marry me.”

“He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time we were talking.” He grumbled.

“Hey.” You put a hand on Peter’s chest to calm him down. “You have nothing to worry about. Kevin is harmless. He likes me as a friend. He would never see me as something more.”

“I don’t know, princess.” Peter sighed and put his hand over yours. “He seems to really like you. I don’t think I’m comfortable with you guys hanging out alone all the time.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” You nodded. “But I promise, I wouldn’t be hanging out with this guy if I had any impression that he liked me.”

“Maybe he’s just good at hiding it around you.” Peter shrugged.

“He and I were gonna watch Eternal Sunshine this Friday. Would it make you feel better if you came too?” You suggested. “I’ve been meaning to show you that movie anyway.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, feeling a little better. His frown didn’t let up, so you pinched his cheek.

“I love you.” You teased him.

“I love you too.” He broke into a smile finally.

Come Friday, you, Peter and Kevin were sitting in your dorm in front of a white sheet. Peter and Kevin sat in awkward silence as you fumbled with the projector.

“Okay, I think I got it.” You said finally, and the image appeared on the white sheet. You went to sit between Kevin and Peter, but Peter had other plans.

“You can sit with me, princess. Right here.” Peter loudly patted his lap. You laughed a little and took a seat between his legs, letting him pull you into his body. He wrapped his arms securely around your waist and pressed loud kisses to your cheek.

“You guys are so cute.” Kevin commented as he grabbed some popcorn.

“Thanks.” Peter said through an evil smile. He kissed your cheek again and snuggled you closer.

As the movie went on, Peter became progressively more affectionate. Usually you wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make Kevin uncomfortable.

“Baby, not now.” You whispered to Peter as he kissed your neck. He had already left a hickey right where Kevin could see it.

“Sorry. I just can’t resist you.” Peter whispered back. Instead of kissing you, he slid his hands up your shirt and cupped your boobs. You craned your neck to raise an eyebrow at him, but he played dumb.

“What?” He asked innocently. “My hands were cold.”

“Sure.” You chuckled and let him keep his hands there the rest of the movie.

The following week, Peter walked through the halls feeling better about the whole Kevin situation. You spent the weekend in Peter’s dorm, only ever leaving for the bathroom or food. Peter made sure he posted pictures of you together throughout the day for Kevin to see. He could tell his jealousy was getting a little out of control, but he couldn’t help it. As long as Kevin was around, he had to keep his guard up.

Peter spotted your backpack in the crowded hallway and began to make his way to you. You usually walked back to the dorms together on Mondays since your classes ended at the same time. Peter stopped walking when he saw Kevin come out of a classroom and go over to you. He kept his back against the wall as he watched you and Kevin talk, feeling insecure once again. You were laughing loudly at whatever Kevin was saying, which made Peter roll his eyes.

“See you tomorrow, okay?” Kevin asked, brushing your cheek lightly with his thumb. You smiled excitedly and put your hand over his to keep it in place. Peter felt a white hot jealousy shot through his body when he saw this, a jealousy that quickly turned or anger. It was made even worse when Kevin pulled you into a hug. Peter had seen enough at that point and walked over to you and Kevin with heavy footsteps.

“Hey.” Peter said, shooting daggers at Kevin as he put a protective hand on your shoulder.

“Hey Petey.” You smiled and leaned into him.

“Hey, Peter.” Kevin waved. “Your girlfriend is a saint, by the way. I would not have made it through this semester without her.”

“Aw.” You gushed. “Stop.”

“I wouldn’t have.” He insisted. “I wish I could stay but I better run. Austin is waiting for me.”

“Ooo la la.” You teased. “See you at rehearsal.”

“See you.” He waved goodbye to the both of you and Peter was finally able to let out the breath he’d been holding in.

“Are you ready to walk home?” You asked as you turned to Peter.

“What the hell was that?” Peter jumped in right away, surprising you with his tone.

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

“You and Kevin.” He said. “Why was he touching you like that? And why were you touching him back?”

“Kiwi was just-“

“Enough of this Kiwi shit.” Peter cut you off. “How are you going to tell me I have nothing to worry about and then let him touch and you like that?”

“He was only touching me because-“

“Because he likes you? Like I said he did?” Peter didn’t let you finish. “You guys are together all the time, you’re always talking about him, and now you’re openly affectionate right in front of me? If you’re going to cheat on me, you could be a little more subtle.”

“Cheat on you?” Your eyes widened. “I am not cheating on you. I thought we cleared this up.”

“I thought so too. But apparently not.” Peter snapped. “Apparently you and your new boyfriend just can’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Kevin is not my boyfriend. You are.” You said quietly. “But you’re really hurting my feelings, Peter. How could you accuse me of something like that?”

“How could I not? It’s not like you’re trying to hide it.” He scoffed. “If I wasn’t standing right there, he probably would have kissed you.”

“I can promise you he wouldn’t.” You said as you looked at the ground.

“I can’t believe you’re still denying it after what I saw.” Peter said, getting emotional now. “How can you throw away everything we had for a guy you just met?”

“I didn’t throw anything away.” You looked up with tears in your eyes. “You’re the one ruining things with this stupid fight. How many times do I have to tell you that there’s nothing going on between me and Kevin? And how could you accuse me of cheating? Do you really think that little of me?”

“Now that you’ve shown me who you really are, I do.” Peter shot back. You sucked in a sharp breath and took a step back from him.

“You can walk home yourself.” You said through tears. “I don’t want to talk to you ever again.”

“Fine by me.” Peter shrugged, but he was already starting to regret everything. Before he could apologize for making you cry, you walked away. He decided to give you some space instead of running after you right away. Instead, he walked in the opposite direction and began to wander around campus. And sure enough, he ran in to...

“Hey Peter.” Kevin greeted with a smile. “I thought you were walking home with Y/n?”

“She left without me.” Peter grumbled without looking up. Kevin was the very last person he wanted to talk to right now.

“Is everything okay?” Kevin asked when he noticed Peters angry demeanor.

“It’s not really any of your business.” Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

“Okay.” Kevin backed off. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Kevin.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Ugh. I hate the name Kevin.” Kevin tried to lighten the mood.

“Why?” Peter took the bait.

“It’s so masculine.” He grimaced. “It’s like, ‘hey, I’m Kevin. Wanna hear how loud my car engine is?’ Please. It’s so not me.”

“Is that why Y/n calls you Kiwi?” Peter asked, genuinely curious.

“Yeah.” Kevin smiled. “Cause I’m little fruity.”

“Fruity?” Peter wondered.

“Sorry.” Kevin chuckled. “I mean gay.”

“You’re gay?” Peter’s eyes widened. “Like, gay gay?”

“Yes sir.” Kevin replied. “But I haven’t come out to everyone yet. Only Y/n and my boyfriend Austin know. I asked them not to tell anyone. I don’t need anything else for people to target me for, you know?”

Peter stared at him for a moment, feeling a panic run down his spine. He had just accused you of cheating on him with your gay best friend.

“I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.” Peter mumbled, feeling himself begin to sweat. You endured all of Peter’s accusations to keep Kevin’s secret, and now Peter felt awful.

“Damn.” Kevin said. “Does Y/n not talk about me? I tell Austin all about her.”

“She tries. I never let her.” Peter said sadly, angry with himself now.

“Why not?”

“Because I was stupid and super jealous.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face. “I was jealous even when she told me not to be.”

“Jealous of me?” Kevin laughed. “I don’t even like girls.”

“I didn’t know that. All I knew was you could talk to her about films and movies and I couldn’t.” Peter shrugged sadly. “I kept thinking you could make her happier than I could, so I got jealous. I’m such an idiot. You know I yelled at her today because of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you touching her face in the hallway and nearly lost my mind. I completely took it out on her.” Peter stressfully tugged at his hair.

“Oh, that.” Kevin laughed. “I’m the male lead in Y/n’s film project. My character is straight and I was having trouble portraying an accurate straight guy. She was teaching me some mannerisms that you do so I could use them on my scene partner. That thing in the hallway was just me joking around and showing her that I had been practicing. I never would’ve gotten through this theater class without her.”

“Oh my God.” Peter covered his mouth with his hand. “I made her cry over that? I thought you guys were sleeping together or something. I didn’t know she was helping you.”

“Yikes.” Kevin grimaced. “That’s not really fair. It’s not like she was the one touching me. Why would you yell at her over that?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” Peter said lamely. “And I don’t listen. She told me so many times that I had nothing to worry about. She said you didn’t like her like that, said you’d never marry her. She told me you weren’t a threat in every possible way without telling me your secret. And I just didn’t listen.”

“Peter, Y/n loves you. She would never cheat on you.” Kevin said like it was obvious. “She deserves a better apology than “I’m an idiot.” If my boyfriend tried to apologize to me like that, I’d tell him he was right and dump him.”

“Do you think she’s gonna break up with me?” Peter worried.

“Well how did you end things with her?”

“She told me to never speak to her again and walked away crying.” Peter recanted.

“Oh.” Kevin said quietly.

“What?” Petwr panicked.

“The good news is she’s not gonna break up with you.” Kevin began. “The bad news is she already did.”

“What?” Peter worried. “That was her breaking up with me?”

Before Kevin could answer, his phone buzzed with a text from you. He looked at it and cringed before looking at Peter.

“Oh no.” Peter gulped. “What did she say?”

“She said she just broke up with you and needs a coffee pick me up.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded.

“She also says she hates you and you broke her heart.” Kevin continued.

“Fuck.” Peter sighed. “I really messed up.”

“Yes. You did.” Kevin nodded. “And I’m sorry, but have no sympathy for you. She told you I wasn’t a threat and she was right. We both know Y/n, and you know her even better than I do. So we both know she’s not a cheater or a liar. She’s just a film nerd who likes to talk about her passions.”

“I know. I really fucked up.” Peter mumbled. “You’re her best friend. How can I win her back?”

“Why would you ask a gay man how to win a girl back?” Kevin asked. “Fuck if I know.”

“Right. Sorry.” Peter stammered. “Did she say anything else?”

“She said she’s meeting me at Dunkin in five minutes. And then she wants to watch Pride and Prejudice. Jesus, Peter. Pride and Prejudice? How bad did you hurt her?”

“Really bad.” He feared.

“Well now I have to go clean up your mess.” Kevin sighed. “And just so you know, I will be telling her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else. It’s always been my dream to say that.”

“Please don’t do that.” Peter begged. “Don’t tell her to sleep with anyone else.”

“If you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him.” Kevin shrugged as he sent you a text.

“What?” Peter asked. “What does that mean?”

“I’m sorry, Peter. But I’m on Y/n’s side with this. I can’t help you anymore. So don’t show up, don’t come out, and definitely don’t start caring about her now.”

“Are you speaking in riddles?” Peter whispered.

“Walk away.” Kevin nodded. “You know how.”

With that, Kevin walked away and left Peter all alone.

Peter trudged back to his dorm alone and sent you a long apology. You texted him back a day later and told him you needed some space, which he understood. He let two weeks go by before knocking on your door.

“What are you doing here?” You asked when you opened the door for Peter. He could tell you had been crying and could hear a movie playing in the background.

“Apologizing to my beautiful girlfriend who’s feelings I hurt.” He said sheepishly as he held out the ice coffee he had brought you.

“I’m not your girlfriend.” You stated, eyes flicking to the ice coffee. Peter held it out further and you took it from him, grabbing a reusable straw off your dresser.

“Yes.” Peter agreed. “But for the small price of letting me in the door, you could be again.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed and tried to close the door.

“Here me out.”Peter pleaded and stuck his foot in the door. “What if I fuck in so we can talk? Please? I really miss you.”

“I don’t miss you.” You said without missing a beat.

“You posted the lyrics to All Too Well three times this week. You have to miss me a little.” Peter reasoned.

“What are you doing here?” You sighed, knowing he was right. “I thought I told you not to talk to me.”

Peter frowned and looked around for anyone who might be listening.

“I didn’t know Kevin was gay.” He said quietly.

“He isn’t out yet.”

“I know.” Peter nodded. “He told me.”

“You talked to him?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you sipped your drink.

“Yeah. He’s a cool guy.” Peter smiled shyly. “I see why you hang out with him.”

“Yeah. He is a cool guy. He trusts me when I ask him to and doesn’t misplace his anger.” You said through a tight smile as you walked into your room. Peter followed and shut the door behind him. He saw that you were playing Little Women on your projector and had tissues strewn all around the room.

“I fucked up.” He told you. “I never should have accused you of cheating. And I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“How many times did I tell you Kevin wasn’t a threat?” You set down your drink and folded your arms. “You said he made you uncomfortable so I stopped talking about him. You said you didn’t want us to be alone all the time so I invited you to hang out with us. I did everything I could to make you feel more comfortable without outing my friend and it still wasn’t enough for you. You just don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.” He promised. “But I was insecure and jealous, even when you told me I didn’t need to be. I couldn’t help but feel like he could be a better boyfriend to you. He can talk to you about your passions in ways I can’t. That’s why I got so mad. I felt like I couldn’t measure up.”

“No one asked you to.” You shrugged. “I never expected you to know random shit about movies. It’s just something I like. I was happy with you just the way you were.”

“And I was too blinded by my jealousy to see that.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. You told me to trust you and I didn’t. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I don’t care.” You told him. “I just want you to leave.”

“I’m scared that if I walk out, we won’t fix things.” Peter said softly.

“Good.” You said flatly. “So get out.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but realized he had nothing productive to add. His eyes shifted to your projector, where Little Women was still playing.

“Did you know the costume designer made the same article of clothing for Saoirse and Timothee so it could look like Jo and Laurie shared clothing?” Peter asked quietly.

“Yeah, I did know that.” You nodded. “How did you?”

“I’ve been doing research on films you like to impress you.” Peter admitted. “Did you know they used Angelina Jolie’s real daughter in Maleficent because all the other children were scared?”

“I knew that too.” You cracked the faintest hint of a smile.

“Well did you know that Psycho-“

“Was the first film to feature a toilet flushing.” You finished his sentence for him. “Yeah, I know. You googling top ten crazy movie facts isn’t gonna fix this.”

“I know.” Peter agreed. “But I hope it shows you how badly I want to try.”

You stared at Peter for a long time, unsure of what to do. You chewed your bottom lip as you mulled over your options. You knew he was sorry, but you didn’t know if you were ready to forgive him.

“You asked me to leave. I’ll listen this time. I’m sorry about everything.” Peter gave you a soft smile before turning to leave.

“Peter, wait.” You said, and he internally rejoiced.

“Yes?” He asked innocently as he turned back around.

“I made more popcorn than I can eat.” You said timidly. “You should stay and finish the movie with me so I don’t waste it.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled in relief and took a seat on your floor. You sat down next to him and handed him the bowl of popcorn.

“But just so the popcorn doesn’t go to waste.” You reminded him and he took a handful.

“No, of course.” Peter nodded, not wanting to push his luck. You stared at him for a minute as he fought back a smile, losing his battle in no time. You rolled your eyes at him before resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’m only doing this for neck support.” You told him.

“I believe you.” He answered as he wrapped an arm around you. “I love you, princess.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You smiled a little as you put some popcorn in your mouth. “Whatever.”

Tag list 🏷

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #peter parker jealous #Peter Parker x artsy!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #spiderman

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age-of-flower-power · 2 years

Text

Give Love a Chance (J.T.K)- Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake Kizska x f!Reader

Summary: What happens when an overtly quirky hopeless-romantic girl who’s given up on love is confronted by a strikingly handsome bad boy in a band? What can these two learn from each-other and how can they both work to improve each-other’s lives, while also spiraling within the intense drama that unfolds between their love? Why don’t you just read to find out, rom-com style.

Word Count: 2.3k (short)

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter

A/N: Hey guys! So I started writing this because I needed to take a break from another chaptered fic I was working on, but it sort of became it’s own thing and grew from there. This was created to souley mock how romantic comedies portray romance, but I fell in love with the characterization so I hope you enjoy anyway. Don’t you just love the “she’s quirky and not like other girls but he’s a bad boy and has a lot to learn from her” trope?

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, okay. Don’t come for me.

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Chapter 1: Introduction

“Ugh, I'm serious Annie! I can’t be the only one tonight without a date, that’s so awkward.” You complained, throwing your body onto the bed beside your roommate. She sighed at you, scrolling through her phone aimlessly from where she laid on her bed.

“(Y/N), just because you’ve been dumped more than any of us doesn’t mean you should just give up on love all together, and by coming with us tonight- who knows- maybe you’ll meet a guy.” She replied to you, setting her phone down to rest on her stomach as she watched you pout into the comforter. You glared at the bedsheet, whining.

“Why do I even have to go? You always drag me along. What if tonight I stay in, take time to myself, and the rest of you can enjoy your evening without me!” You pitched the idea to her, sitting up on your elbows to make a face that stubley evoked ‘don't make me do this’. If it was even possible for someone to convey that much with facial expressions…

She raised a brow at you and your dramatics, sitting up, her phone falling from her chest to her lap. She didn’t flinch as it smacked her thigh, her expression steeled on you.

“Listen sister,” she stated, “you’re going because unlike what you said, I leave you here home alone enough that I know you don’t benefit from a night of Netflix and sweatpants. It’ll be fun! We’re literally watching a live band and getting drinks, what happened to your spirit?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

You glared at her, fidgeting with a loose string in the bedding before mumbling, fine, and sitting up from your position. She was right. You would never find love moping around your shared apartment, and especially not while scrolling through some dumb hook-up app. Plus, live music was always fun anyway, so you concluded to yourself that even if you didn’t end up finding love, you would at least see a show.

Annie smiled at you, flashing her teeth at you in a lopsided grin. “Now, let's help each other get ready, kay?”

As you got ready to go out for the night you recounted in your head all your miserable attempts at love countless years before. A boyfriend who friend-zoned you months after getting together, a girlfriend who only seemed to be interested in you because she was bored, and so many others that left your hopeless romantic self quaking in disbelief that you seemed to come off as so easy.

Well that wasn’t entirely true. You weren’t easy, but you were young and trusted way too fast seemingly every chance at love that you had. That selfless personality of yours got you into so much trouble, but you were never to be blamed. You had spent your early stages of life watching romance stories unfold in movies, reading about love in various books, and daydreaming most of your teen years away thinking and waiting for prince charming to show up. You were a hopeless cause, but it happened time and time again and every time you fell you at least tried to pick up the pieces.

So, when Annie had pitched the idea that you go out tonight, much to your inconvenience after you had just broken up with your last boyfriend months prior, you could confidently say you weren’t entirely sure if your heart was ready for more hopeless attempts at love. Especially not when everyone in your friend group was a couple… except for you. Talk about bad timing. You hated third-wheeling already, but fifth wheeling? Even seventh wheeling? You shuddered at the thought.

Although all hope was lost on you, you at least supported your friends in feeble attempts to show up, make an appearance with them, and let loose just when you needed to. Not that it was easy, it never was. You were like some awful quirky side character in a shitty rom-com starring Hugh Grant in the 90s. Forgettable, laughable, and easily replaceable… Well, it sure seemed that way.

“Ready to go?” Annie asked from beside you, slipping in some studded earrings, gazing at you from her perch in front of her vanity mirror. You shrugged, pushing up your clunky glasses.

“If I have to be.” You said dryly. She rolled her eyes at you, out of love, and stood after she slipped on a pair of white boots to match her Pinterest perfect outfit. Her tan legs filling out her cute flowy black skirt with a slit on the side, a plain white shirt tied just above it to show off her bellybutton in a way you were not confident enough to even try. She slipped on a denim jacket to go over the attire and you would dare to compliment her style, but you sure her boyfriend would do that enough tonight so you let the words die on your tongue.

“It’s one night, be social, laugh at things that aren’t funny,” she told you, stepping out of her room as you followed her down the hall and to the front door, “And if I guy- or girl- asks to buy you a drink? Don’t bark!” She scolded. You snorted, recounting a time you were drunk enough to ward off a man in such a way. “Just have fun, babe.”

You would try to have fun tonight. Honestly, you would. It would pay to have Annie and the others off your back.

Right before the two of you took off and out the door you stopped to recount your own attire into the mirror stationed halfway across the door and in the living room area. Black high-waisted jeans, a simple red satin tank, and shoes that wouldn’t have you stumbling if you had too many to drink. Your gold accents in jewelry added to your look, the only thing throwing off the balance were your big lenses that did well to hide how pretty your eyes were without them.

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

The bar was crowded when you walked in, stuffed full of all sorts of people searching for some live music to kickstart their weekends. You and Annie immediately spotted your mutual friends a few feet into the bar, all of them had gotten here before you to secure a table. It confused you to see such a warm welcome for a band you had never even heard of before, but it added to the mystery of it all as well.

As you and Annie approached you quickly were swept into conversing both of your greetings, lots of answering mundane questions such as how are you? and what have you been up to lately? It did well to quiet the anxiety of actively stepping outside of your apartment for something other than work and errands.

Annie found herself quickly encapsulated with conversation with her boyfriend, leaving you to go and get yourself your own drink like a big girl. You didn’t mind, it was better than the inevitable dread of sitting down pre-show to watch everyone in your group gawk at each other while you nurse your too-strong drink.

You slid over to the bar, resting your elbows on the sticky top as you waited for the bartender to notice you so you could order something. The lady working tonight seemed stressed with the influx of people, even if she fake smiled through it all as she served everyone into a drunk-faze of their former selves. You smiled to yourself, people watching while you waited.

The table closest to the bar was full of what seemed to be college-kids, all of them sporting matching shirts with the name of the band poorly printed onto the front. You squinted to get a better look.

“Greta Van Fleet…?” You muttered under your breath, trying to read the shitty airbrushed font.

“Heard of them before?” A voice asked from beside you, startling you. You jumped slightly at the smooth tone, a shiver running up from your toes to your spine as you steadied the nerves of the scare. You turned towards where you had heard the voice from next to you, finding a long haired beauty who flashed a smirk to be the owner.

“Oh uh- no. I haven’t.” You said, clearing your throat as you watched the man study you close. Where on earth did he come from? You watched him trace you up and down with his deep bronze eyes, flushing when you felt his eyes reconnect with your own. “Are they any good?” You asked, realizing he hadn’t said anything else in the midst of his voyeurism.

The man before you shrugged and you watched as his loose and open shirt shifted under his movement, exposing his tanned chest and the few long necklaces that hung right over his smooth skin. His hair brushed down till and you watched as the tips just barely reached the start of his shoulders, it seemed so soft in the dark bar lighting.

“I guess you’ll have to listen and figure out for yourself if they’re worth your time.” He said it through his smirk, voice dripping confidence. You quirked a brow at him, straightening your posture a little as he spoke.

“Are you a fan or something?” You asked, taking a little time to recount the black ring on the thumb of his right hand. He flexed his hand when you spoke, the other resting on the bar top, holding a glass half-full of some dark liquid.

“Something like that.” He replied, only stopping his gaze from you to catch sight of something that seemed to be over your head before nodding off towards the stage. “I’ll see you around.”

And before you had the chance to ask anymore questions from the handsome stranger he was off, leaving you alone to recount the strange interaction over in your head as the bartender walked over to ask you what you wanted to drink.

On the way back to the table, a vodka cranberry now in your hand, you pondered if you had seen the man at any time at all before. You couldn’t remember exactly, so you shook that feeling off, instead turning your attention back to your friends. Annie looked at you from where she sat beside her boyfriend, narrowing her gaze playfully.

“So who was that at the bar?” She teased you, almost too happy to see you interacting with someone besides her. You rolled your eyes, sitting down on a stool and sipping your drink absentmindedly.

“Just some guy, he asked me if I had heard the band before to which I replied no, and we left it at that.” You told her. She seemed unconvinced as she pouted at you, but she quickly shrugged and turned to face the stage after her ears picked up the faint sound of a bass tuning and a drum kit being tested. You directed your gaze towards the stage now too, glad for the conversation to be over.

Well, that was funny, wasn’t it? The conversation would have to continue at some point later on, afterall, you watched the handsome stranger from the bar just a second ago waltz onto stage alongside the other three members, a shiny red guitar strapped on over his body. Your jaw dropped at the sight as he struck a power chord and the energy of the bar immediately picked up, everyone going wild as the band began to play.

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

Their performance was electric, the lead singer could hit notes you had never even heard a man belt before, and the drums were pounding deep into your soul with each new beat, not to mention the bass player was also fantastic on keys… but throughout the entire performance you were truly in awe of the guitarist himself. His fingers moved so fast it was hard to keep track, and he looked so into the music that whenever he would flip his hair to get out of his face you watched as his mouth twitched with his body movements. It was truly a great set, and you were conflicted with yourself at the utter sadness you felt by the time they were done and off the stage.

You friends from beside you chatted about the band after the show, a few drinks in and slurring as they recounted to each other their favorite songs they had listened to and the angelic voice of the singer. You couldn’t focus though, too caught up in the fact that one person could look absolutely ethereal under so many stage lights.

You excused yourself from the table, going to get another drink. It honestly did bring up your mood, and you could say you were happy to have come tonight. You knew that by tomorrow the feeling of hopeless dread would come back, but with good music and a drink you found that you didn’t mind. You would let yourself relish in the moment tonight, and how you couldn’t get that face out of your mind.

When you stood, same place as before, at the bar, you didn’t allow yourself to feel upset when the handsome stranger from before didn’t show. You simply ordered yourself another drink and took a sip as you watched people file in and out post-show to go and do other things for the night. A lot of people had shown up simply for the band itself it looked like. You guessed maybe that made sense, they were good. Really good.

Right before you were about to turn back away and waltz over to your group again, the bartender stopped you. She smiled kindly, sliding a square and white napkin over nonchalantly before winking and walking away to serve someone else. You raised a brow, taking the piece of paper gingerly in your hand and looking down at it.

Written in messy black ink, the napkin read:

So, am I worth your time?

xxx - xxx - xxxx

Jake

Your face burned red and hot. Holy shit. You had gotten the handsome stranger's number and his name was Jake.

You quickly folded and slipped the napkin into the front pocket of your jeans, deciding to keep this to yourself. Annie would’ve freaked out if she knew… and maybe it was better if no one knew right now, even if your ego was riding an all-time high.

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: none so far :)

#jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fic #greta van fleet x reader #my fic #give love a chance #gvf #jake kiszka #gvf fic #mmm what an interesting start #this is gonna be multichaptered #bare with me #we die like men #new chapters twice a week until its over

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Solutions to Nonlinear Equations

For @currentlylurking for the Phic Phight. :)

“Ancients, Vlad. I’m not rejecting you because I’m a rebellious teenager and you’re an adult, I’m rejecting you because you’re incredibly creepy.”

Vlad sniffed in what he hoped was an aristocratic manner and raised an eyebrow, minutely adjusting his grip on Daniel to keep him pinned to the floor.

“We’re human-ghost hybrids, Daniel. I’d hoped that you’d have realized by now that we are meant to be ‘creepy.’”

Daniel squirmed and began to mutter into the carpet. “Clockwork never acts like this, I’m fine with him—”

Vlad pulled back as if burned. He hadn’t heard that name in—in—

In a long time.

Years.

The thought was almost expelled from his head when Daniel managed to elbow him in the jaw hard enough to make him see stars. Before he knew it, Daniel had slipped from his grasp and zoomed away.

Whatever aspersions Vlad cast on Daniel’s mastery of his ghostly abilities, the boy was fast. When he put his mind to escaping instead of picking a fight, he managed it more often than not, to Vlad’s great frustration. Hence Vlad’s usual strategy of needling the younger half-ghost until fighting was the only thing on Daniel’s mind.

He set down on a nearby roof. There went his plans for the day. Which, admittedly, had consisted of distracting Daniel while his ghostly minions set up a nasty surprise for him at the school, hence making him fail his test, which would, in turn, convince Maddie and Jack to let Vlad set Daniel up with a tutor, something he had suggested to them earlier, and—

Well. Daniel would find them, now, no doubt.

Ah, well.

He had more important things on his mind, now. Such as, how in two worlds did Daniel know Clockwork? Because Daniel never just said things like that. He barely knew anything about ghost culture. He wouldn’t know to bring up obscure, secretive, ghost historical figures. He wouldn’t know what that particular name would mean to Vlad.

Tongues of fire flared out of his fingers, bringing a measure of stability to the gyrations of his core and his emotions.

Daniel knew Clockwork. And, it seemed, met him with some regularity. Enough for him to compare his actions to Vlad’s.

Would that ghost never be satisfied with ruining Vlad’s life? Was he not satisfied with—

He cut off the thought, shaking his head. Never mind that.

What Vlad needed to do was find Clockwork. Which meant inducing Danny to go to him at a time when Vlad when Vlad could follow. Which meant determining when he had visited Clockwork in the past. An undertaking to be sure.

He closed his eyes and teleported to his lab beneath his mansion.

“Maddie!” he called out, even before his body had fully reformed.

The hologram flickered to life with a faint crackled from the projector. “What is it, sugarpie?” it asked with a smile.

“Review the audio recordings from Fentonworks,” ordered Vlad. “Search for the term ‘Clockwork.’ Report findings to me.”

“Sure thing, honey!”

Vlad had to review the cheerfulness settings on the Maddie program. Maddie was upbeat, but not that upbeat. This was almost sickly sweet.

He threw himself into a nearby chair.

Clockwork. He thought he’d never hear that name again. Not after he’d been literally and figuratively ghosted by him.

He telekinetically pulled a book off his shelf. He ran his fingers over the leather tooling on the cover. The book had been given to him by Clockwork, years ago, when he was still in that hospital.

Clockwork had been the one to first show him the Ghost Zone, and all the wonders in it. Clockwork had been his friend, his only friend, through that long, agonizing hospital stay. He had been supportive, wonderful, kind. He visited often, though not on a regular schedule. He’d helped Vlad ride out the waves of misery and anger that so often threatened to overwhelm him.

Then, without warning, nothing.

No goodbye. The last time he left, he had even said something along the lines of ‘see you soon,’ although the memory was frayed from age and Vlad could no longer recall the exact words. For a long time, Vlad had worried something disastrous had happened to Clockwork. But then he had finally managed to build his own portal, reach the Ghost Zone under his own power, and, according to every search he did, every line of inquiry that bore fruit, Clockwork was just fine.

Vlad had been furious. He had been betrayed. He had spent the better half of a decade trying to plot revenge against Clockwork, before realizing that was akin to plotting revenge against a god and turning his sights to a more manageable target.

Now…

Now, Vlad just wanted answers. Both as to the reason behind his abandonment and as to why Clockwork was apparently repeating history with Daniel.

“Sweetie pie,” said the hologram, with a chime, “audio processing complete. There are over ninety-nine instances where the word ‘clockwork’ is mentioned. Would you like to play the selected files?”

“Yes,” said Vlad. “Include the video portions where available, and the thirty seconds immediately prior to and following the mention.”

He turned his attention to the nearest screen. He had a lot of videos to watch.

There was an envelope pinned to it. It was sealed with wax, impressed with the image of a pocket watch and the initials CW. Vlad attempted, and failed, to suppress the growl that grew in the back of his throat. Was this a joke to Clockwork?

He tore the envelope from the screen, ripped it open with equal viciousness, and began to read.

Three cups sat on the tea service tray next to the teapot.

“Are you expecting someone else,” asked Danny, “or am I going to break one of these?”

Clockwork chuckled as he began to pour the tea. “The former,” he said. “Although you may always surprise me with the latter.”

He handed Danny his cup. Danny inhaled deeply. It smelled sweet. “What is it?” he asked.

“A chamomile blend,” said Clockwork. “For calm.”

“I think Sam drinks chamomile before she goes to bed,” observed Danny, offhandedly. “Who’s coming?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Danny made a face. “Do you have to be mysterious all—”

The front door of Clockwork’s lair slammed open, and Danny jolted forward in alarm – the only people who regularly did that were the Observants, who didn’t much care for Danny – but Clockwork put a steadying hand on his shoulder and rewound his tea into his cup.

“Clockwork!” came the expected yell. The yeller, however…

“Is that Vlad?” asked Danny, not quite scandalized, but more than a little surprised.

“Why, yes,” said Clockwork.

“Did you – Clockwork, did you invite him here?”

“Other than the Observants,” said Clockwork, “no one can enter unless I will it.” He took a sip of his tea.

“But,” started Danny.

Clockwork raised a hand. “Don’t worry, he’ll find us soon enough.” He repurposed the hand to pat Danny’s knee. “And even should he prove to be in a combative mood, I will not allow you to come to harm. You are safe here, Daniel.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Danny, looking away, towards the door in the sitting room through which Vlad would presumably enter.

Sure enough, a few seconds later Vlad half-flew half-skidded into Clockwork’s sitting room. He leveled an accusatory finger at Clockwork. “You!” he proclaimed, with a great deal of venom.

“Hello, Vladimir, I’ve poured you some tea. Why don’t you sit down? I understand it has been some time.”

“You under-? ��No! I will not sit down! I will not drink your tea. Not after you abandoned me for over a decade, just like that bumbling oaf—”

“Hey!” interjected Danny, not only because Vlad had once again insulted his father, but because he could tell that Clockwork, regardless of his stoic façade, was actually quite upset.

“Don’t interrupt me, Daniel,” snapped Vlad. “You don’t know what this, this ghost is. What he does. You don’t know that he gets close to you, makes you think you’re friends, and then drops you without a moment’s notice. Did you think it was funny to string along a man in dire straits? Did you?”

“I did not abandon you, Vladimir, I—”

Vlad scoffed and went on a tirade that Danny honestly found hard to parse. But it sounded like Vlad and Clockwork had known each other in the past and then fallen out of contact in a way that aggravated Vlad’s abandonment issues. Which didn’t seem like Clockwork at all, but Vlad sounded extremely certain and insistent, and Clockwork’s upset was actually finding its way into his voice, now. Danny didn’t—

With all the force and abruptness of epiphany, Danny realized what was going on here.

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Danny, putting down his cup. “Vlad, breathe or whatever. Clockwork, you did tell Vlad that you experience time nonlinearly, right?”

“Of course,” said Clockwork, clearly offended.

“But Vlad, ah, had you gone through natural portals often when you met Clockwork? Or, like, did you ever see him without him initiating contact?”

“I didn’t have my portal built yet, Daniel, so, no.”

Danny turned to Clockwork. “Why did you-? No that doesn’t matter. Haaauuuhh, Clockwork, do you have-?”

Clockwork waved a hand and a whiteboard appeared.

“Thanks,” said Danny, picking a marker up from the little shelf on the bottom. He uncapped it, then recapped it. “Actually, before that. Vlad—” he pointed at Vlad, who looked about one second from exploding “—you have some idea of how old Clockwork is, right? Or at least how old ghosts can get?”

“Yes, Daniel,” said Vlad, managing to overlay his supercilious ‘I know better than you’ attitude over his still obvious anger.

“Okay, great. So, just to establish, Clockwork has been around at least since, uh, beginning of time?”

“Give or take,” agreed Clockwork. “Although I have not experienced it all directly.”

“Right,” said Danny. “Just, already, his perception of time is different from our because of age differences.”

Vlad looked slightly less angry, and slightly closer to curious.

“But, then, there’s the larger issue,” continued Danny. This time his uncapping of the marker was decisive. He drew a flat, straight, horizontal line across the whiteboard. “This is our timeline. We deal with time linearly. We’ve also got, I don’t know, parallel timelines, like this.” He drew several more lines. “You following so far?”

“Yes, Daniel, I’ve read my share of science fiction.”

He was probably rolling his eyes. Curse his solid-colored red eyes. It made interpreting his looks and figuring out where he was looking during a fight much more difficult.

“Anyway, Clockwork isn’t on any of these lines. Because he experiences time nonlinearly.” He drew a squiggly up and down line on the board that resembled the world’s saddest sine wave. Or cosine wave. There wasn’t a y-axis on the not-quite-graph, so it wasn’t like anyone could tell the difference. They were effectively the same.

And Vlad still made fun of him for failing math. Danny knew plenty about math. He just didn’t have time to do the work. Mostly because of Vlad.

“Now, that, that is Clockwork’s timeline. It isn’t always in contact with ours. It’s, like, solutions to a system of equations. Nonlinear equations,” he specified, in case it had been too long since Vlad had encountered basic high-school-level algebra.

“It is somewhat more complicated than that, Daniel,” said Clockwork, exasperated. “It’s more of—"

“Yeah, but this gets the idea across more than the whole parade metaphor, doesn’t it?”

“I would say not. This doesn’t even begin to touch on my abilities.”

“That’s because we’re just talking about your perception of time,” said Danny. He considered for a moment. “And also your ability to interact with our timeline.”

“Which includes my ability to perceive multiple timelines.”

“But that’s complicated, and I still don’t get it,” complained Danny.

“It is less complicated than what you are currently trying to explain.”

“To you maybe, but the whole point of this is that you aren’t seeing things the same way we are. You disappeared on Vlad, what, a decade ago?” He looked to Vlad for confirmation.

“A decade is hardly any time at all,” said Clockwork with exasperation. He sipped at his tea.

“It was fifteen years.”

Clockwork made a somewhat dismissive motion with a gloved hand. “It’s a tiny fraction of your life as a whole.”

“It’s… closer to a third of his current lifetime,” said Danny with a wince. “Or a fourth? I don’t know how old you are, dude.”

“I went to college with your parents.”

“I know, and you were already graying then. Your age is weirdly hard to place.”

Vlad gave Danny a look, but his body language was no longer screaming ‘I’m going to beat the snot after you.’ Danny counted that as a win under the current circumstances. He disliked Vlad, but in a fight with Clockwork… Well, Clockwork could demolish just about anyone.

Not that Clockwork would. Just that he could.

“Daniel—”

“Please, Vladimir. Just sit down. Try the tea. I made it for you. I knew you would be upset, although I could not see exactly why.” Clockwork was almost pouting, now. “Fifteen years is such a short time.”

“Clockwork, I’m fifteen.”

“I know,” said Clockwork, patting Danny on the knee. “Your timeline is so small. And cute.”

Vlad was now distinctly on his back foot, offput and disarmed. “His timeline is cute?”

“It is. Don’t worry, yours is almost as cute.”

Vlad opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish. Danny pushed the whiteboard away.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he said. “Like I said, different perception of time.”

“I really didn’t mean to make you feel abandoned, Vladimir. I simply wanted to give you some time to, ah, how should I put this? Have space? Find yourself?”

Vlad sat heavily on the couch.

“You get used to it,” said Danny. “But, Clockwork, do you think you can talk him into having fewer evil plans? Because, really. There are way too many. Like, one a week. They’re destroying my grades. Have you ever seen anyone else who had weekly evil plans?”

“Evil plans, Vladimir? Really?”

#danny phantom #phic phight 2021 #phic phight #danny fenton #vlad masters #clockwork

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

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