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ebongawk · 1 year

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They were curled up on the couch together, sipping their morning cups of coffee and watching television, when Eddie looked down at her and said, "I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore."

As a child, Chrissy hadn't been awarded the luxury of cartoons on T.V. She hadn't had much opportunity to watch T.V. at all, as her mother found it a brainless hobby in which young ladies should not indulge. When Eddie found out, through quiet early morning confessions had between the scant space they'd once allowed, back before they fell together in seamless harmony, he'd made it his duty to introduce her to his own boyhood favorites.

Johnny Quest, The Flintstones, and Scooby-Doo all played as a triple feature on Saturday mornings. In the beginning, Chrissy couldn't understand the point. What humor were these humanoid (and other) characters trying so hard to convey, with their dangerous injuries and strange adventures and their terrified running through endless doors?

Then, all at once, she got it.

And it was like... It was like finally eating the cake that had been displayed on the buffet table her entire life. It was decadent indulgence in a way that Laura Cunningham would scoff and sneer at.

It became tradition. No matter what odd jobs they managed to scrounge up after high school, after moving to Chicago and finding their respective footings, they each made a silent agreement to keep their Saturday mornings open so they could cuddle beneath the throw blanket she'd thrifted once upon a time and watch cartoons on Saturday morning.

It became part of her home.

Her happiness.

So when Eddie looked down at her, wearing that same hesitant, curious smile he'd worn the day she fell in love with him in the woods behind Hawkins High, and said, "I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore," it took her brain a moment to catch up.

"What?" she asked, a smile still dancing against the edges of her lips. Threatening to spill over once again as Scooby-Doo tried to explain, in his mangled English, that the ghoul terrorizing them was in the room he'd just vacated.

"I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore."

It was more than a bucket of ice water splashed across her shoulders. It was as though her very soul was all at once submerged in an ancient glacier. Like every moment she'd lived, every step she'd been courageous enough to take before this, was suddenly frozen in an arctic tundra of dishonesties. Because they loved each other. They loved hard, and endlessly and forever, and forever came to a halt so screeching it echoed against the frosted chasms within her newfound home of ice.

All at once, she was on her feet, facing him as uncertainty and terror gripped her heart and pounded it against her ribcage.

"You... what?"

Eddie stared at her. Uncomprehending. Like the question, the context, didn't make any sense to him. Like he hadn't just enforced this new line in the sand between them with a few simple, cavalier words.

"Uh."

"You don't..." Her voice cracked, arms wrapping around her midsection as she took a haggard step back. "You don't want me anymore?"

Even to her own ears, her voice was fingernails against a glacial panel. Squeaky and grating, and no wonder, no wonder.

"What?" Eddie said, jumping to his own feet. After a moment, his eyes widened, comprehension and horror crossing his own features. "No, baby, no, not––"

"Did I do something?" Chrissy asked, pleaded, her mind spiraling to find whatever misstep she'd taken. Was it her dislike of alcohol? The fact that she couldn't make it to all of his shows? Oh, God, was it the eight pounds she'd gained last year? Oh, God. "D-Did I––"

"No, Chrissy, not–– Not that, baby, listen––" He was in the kitchen, rifling through drawers.

"Is it–– Is it because the band is doing well? Because you guys might get signed––"

"No, Chris, fuck, where is the goddamn––"

"Oh, my God, Eddie, is it someone else? Some–– Some pretty groupie? Prettier than me and nicer and with bigger tits––"

"Absolutely not!" he shouted from the other room, as though Chrissy could even hear him. Could even understand what he was saying. She barely registered the banging of cabinets in their bedroom. "It's not that, baby, fucking Christ, where the hell did I––"

"Oh, God, Eddie, I'm sorry, whatever I did, I'm sorry––" Her voice was barely discernible through the tears. Voice thick with emotion, Chrissy reached out, steadying herself on the arm of the couch before she had opportunity to fall.

"Chrissy, listen, listen, just–– Oh, thank fuck, found it!"

"How can I fix it? Tell me. Please tell me what I can do. How can I––"

Her hand was suddenly engulfed in warmth, and Chrissy whipped around so quickly her head swam, wide eyes trained on the man who'd given her smiles and joy and Saturday morning cartoons.

Wedged between the couch and the coffee table.

On one knee.

The hand not clutching hers like a lifeline holding a tiny black velvet box.

"Sweetness," he crooned softly. "Light of my life. My sunshine personified. I went about this in exactly the wrong way, didn't I?"

Chrissy was stilled, frozen for an entirely new reason as she rapidly blinked the tears from her eyes.

"Eddie?"

"I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore," he hedged, his deep, endlessly deep brown eyes sparkling up at her so sweetly it began to thaw her terror. "I'd, uh. I'd rather upgrade you to wife, is what I was trying to say in my own stupid way."

The hand not holding his – squeezing his, fingers laced together like she'd float away if she let go – slapped against her lips as she stifled a sharp, almost painful gasp.

"What do you say, Cunningham?" he asked. "You wanna be Munson instead?"

Time didn't pass for a long moment. She just stared, watching as his visage blurred all over again, before she was suddenly in his arms. Her hip knocked into the coffee table, and they almost definitely scraped their floors when the couch legs pushed aside.

But then, then, she was in the arms of her boyfriend–– The arms of her fiancé.

"Yes," she cried. "Yes, Eddie, I'd love to be a Munson!"

The laugh he let out seemed punched from his lungs as he held her close, his face buried in her neck as his shoulders trembled with the same emotions currently storming through her chest. Elation and love and relief and hope, above all else.

"You might be the first person who's ever said that," he chuckled, kissing her shoulder, her neck, her jaw. He pulled back, the hand still clutching the ring box brushing her hair back from her eyes. "As if I could ever exist in this life without you, Cunningham."

Despite herself, she grinned.

"No," she agreed after a second, carefully taking the ring box from him to admire the jewelry nestled inside – a simple silver band, adorned with twin sapphires and a spray of tiny diamonds like bouquets on either side.

It looked like a collision of stars.

"No, you just wanted to scare me into a promotion."

"That's right," Eddie laughed. "A girlfriend-to-wife promotion. With the coveted new-last-name salary package. How's that sound?"

Nuzzling into his chest, Chrissy admired the ring on her fourth-left finger as Eddie kissed the crown of her head.

"Sounds perfect, Mr. Munson."

"I'd hoped you might say that, Ms. Cunningham."

"Hey! That's Mrs. Munson to you!"

"Nope! Not legal til I have your signature, baby."

"Oh, my God, you're the worst!"

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #hellcheer drabble #chrissy cunningham #drabble #lil marriage proposal #I wrote this instead of sleeping

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popesgirlfriend · 1 year

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Not Another Rebound

This is 3k words of me being in love with Pope :)

Warnings: there's a bit of angst and I swear a little bit, kissing, overuse of italics, and I think that's it

Note: Just wanted to write about my main man getting all the love he deserves. Still pretty new at this though. Shout out to @dreamingwithrafe for letting me talk about my boyfriend Pope, here's that fic I've been mentioning since forever lol

You’re blushing, you know you are, but you can’t help it. You and your friend, Kiara, were walking down the docks when she spotted her other friends, the pogues. She had stopped to talk to them but quickly got caught up in a side conversation with JJ and John B, leaving you alone with Pope. If it were anyone else, you’d be fine. But he had smiled at you and suddenly you couldn’t form a coherent thought.

He was so fucking pretty, even prettier up close. You’re used to seeing him from afar at keggers with his friends, illuminated by the light of the bonfire. Or surfing at the beach, saltwater dripping down his toned chest. You’ve never been this close to him before and none of the cells in your brain are cooperating with you. You can’t even make proper eye contact.

“Kie says you’ve been prepping for a scholarship interview, how’s that going?” you manage to ask. You’re still not quite making eye contact though. The boat you can see peaking over his shoulder is just so interesting.

“You and Kie talk about me?” he smiles at you. Christ. You start trying to defend yourself but the only thing that comes out is a bunch of half-formed words. You’ve never stuttered this much in your life. He just laughs, “Relax, Kie talks about you too.” He nudges your arm and goosebumps erupt all over your skin. In the middle of the day, on a hot day, in the Outer Banks. You’d be more embarrassed if you weren’t currently freaking out about him stepping closer.

“The interview prep is kind of brutal actually,” he continues, “I feel like I’m stressing myself out more than anything else.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. If anyone deserves that scholarship it's you,” you say.

“You would know about that, wouldn’t you? Kie tells me you’re going to be valedictorian when you graduate from the Academy.”

You roll your eyes, discomfort fading as the conversation shifts to you, “Do not listen to anything she says. She exaggerates everything. I told her that this year the administration is deciding to let the student body choose the valedictorian for our graduating year. I have no idea how she got that out of what I said.”

“It’s probably because you’re exceptional. I can see you being valedictorian,” Pope nudges your arm again.

“How would you know that? We’ve never talked before.”

“I just do.” Kie chooses that moment to pop back to your side. It takes you a moment to even realize she’s talking to you, you’re too busy staring at Pope. You two are practically sharing the same space, Pope having crept closer throughout your conversation. Are his eyes sparkling?

You are snapped out of your Pope-induced trance by Kie waving a hand in front of your face.

“Can we go now or do you want to stay here and admire Pope some more?” she asks.

You bat her hand away, “Shut up.” You can feel yourself blushing again and now that you’ve been called out you just want to run and hide. You turn to walk away as Kie’s laughter fills your ears. In your haste, you miss Pope’s soft look in your direction.

That was almost a month ago. Since then, Kie has invited you to absolutely every event she and her friends have planned. Every moment not spent at school is spent with the pogues. You’ve started not even changing out of your uniform, just pulling up to John B’s chateau in your pleated skirt and navy blue jacket thrown over a shoulder. It’s started to get warmer in the Outer Banks, and for the pogues, that means parties on the beach.

It’s your first time partying with them and you might have had more to drink than you normally would in an effort to calm your nerves. There are no tourons here, it’s not quite summer yet, so everyone is local. You recognize more people than you thought you would.

“Hey, pretty girl, what are you doing all alone over here?” Pope slides up beside you.

The nickname makes you blush but the alcohol in your system means you don’t immediately turn into a stuttering mess.

“Well, I didn’t think I was alone. Kie was here a moment ago I swear,” you use the half-empty beer bottle in your hand to gesture to the empty spot on the other side of you. Pope laughs at your fake pout and you’re transfixed. He’s so beautiful you can hardly breathe. He’s talking again but you can’t hear him anymore over the kiss me kiss me kiss me pounding in your head.

“We were thinking of heading out on the—”

“Kiss me,” you blurt out. You see the moment he registers what you said. Even the alcohol isn’t enough to quiet the butterflies swarming in your stomach at his silence.

He sighs, “You’re drunk.” He’s looking everywhere but at you. You just want to see his pretty eyes again so you grab his face with your hands, turning his head back to you. There he is.

“I’m not drunk but even if I were you have to know how much I want to kiss you all the time. I’m not subtle about it. I don’t even know how to be subtle about it. You drive me crazy, Pope Heyward and—”

He kisses you. One second you’re trying to cut off all the words trying to spill out of your mouth, the next, there is a pair of soft lips pressed to yours. Your hands are still on his face so you pull him in closer. You want him closer. Being pressed chest to chest wouldn’t even be good enough. You want to feel skin. Your hands have a mind of their own. They move down his neck to rest on his chest and back up like they can’t settle on a spot. You want to feel everywhere. He presses closer to you, pushing you back into the tree behind you. You’re sandwiched between the rough tree trunk at your back and the warmth of Pope at your front. You never want to be anywhere else.

“Slow down, wait, wait,” Pope says, breathless, against your lips. You chase him for a second before the words catch up to you and you’re pulling back. He looks dazed. His lips are spit-slick and swollen. You wanna bite them. His gaze is fluttering between your eyes and your lips and back again. You want him to kiss you again.

“What are we doing here, pretty girl?”

“Making out against a tree,” you say. He rolls his eyes and you can’t help but smile. He’s so pretty.

“Okay, what happens after this?”

“You take me on a date. There’s this bookstore I’ve been meaning to take you to. Then we can get lunch after, or dinner, or whatever works.” The kiss might have sobered you up more than you thought. There’s not enough alcohol in your system anymore to prevent the nervous rambling that usually happens whenever you’re around Pope.

“You want to date me?” he asks. As if the answer would be anything other than yes. As if there’s anyone else who has captured your attention the way Pope has.

“If you’ll let me, yea. I’d love to.” You’re so busy admiring the smile that spreads across his face that you don’t even notice him pulling you back in until you’re kissing again. And if the two of you spend the rest of the party making out and whispering into each other’s ears, then that’s no one’s business but you’re own.

It takes about two months for the honeymoon phase to wear off. Dating Pope is even better than you would have imagined. Even your wildest dreams don’t come close to how amazing it is. You’re so excited he even wants you back that you might have gone overboard. Those first two months, you tried to be the best girlfriend Pope will ever have. Final exam season had come around again and you had pushed your own studying aside in favour of helping Pope study. You stayed up late with him reviewing flashcards and kissing him stupid every time he got an answer correct.

You started helping him with his chores around his dad’s shop. He complained about it being boring and tedious so you showed up to keep him company. Heyward might have been happier to see you than Pope was, always happy for an extra set of hands.

You planned all your dates. Picnics on the beach once it got truly warm. Surf dates. Shopping trips on the mainland where you two really just roam the streets hand in hand. Movie nights at your house that turns into hours of cuddling and conversation with the movie playing in the background forgotten. Everything was fine until you realized that you planned all your dates. Pope has never initiated anything. Never a date, a kiss, or even a conversation. Scrolling through your messages you notice that every text thread between you and Pope was started by you. Every hug or kiss or any act of physical affection was you just trying to get as close to Pope as possible. He has never once reached for you first.

To test your theory, you don’t text him. He’s supposed to be out with the pogues today, an outing you couldn’t join because of other obligations. Usually, when you and Pope aren’t together you text him a couple of times throughout the day just to check in. Not today though. You’re adamant that you are not going to send a single text message. Not a good morning, handsome that you usually start with. Not a has JJ fallen off the boat yet? Nothing. You check your phone every hour but it remains dark throughout the whole day. Not a single text. The disappointment you feel sits heavy in your chest when you get back home. You know Pope is also at home because you’ve gotten messages from Kie saying that they’re back at the Chateau. JJ had sent you a single message with a picture of Pope in the hammock at the back of the chateau staring down at his phone followed by a single question mark. You left that one unanswered.

Knowing that Pope had his phone in his hand and still hadn’t texted you was the final nail in the coffin. Obviously, Pope doesn’t like you as much as you like him. After his failed attempt at a relationship with Kie, you were clearly the rebound. Something to build back his ego. It probably helped that you were so clingy, always wanting to be around him, constantly texting him. Well, no more.

You managed to go a full 5 days on your new restricted affection schedule, as you’ve started calling it. You only send good morning and goodnight messages. You told yourself if he initiated the conversation then you would reciprocate (the thought of not talking to Pope at all was excruciating) but after the initial good morning, he doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the day. You stopped randomly appearing at Heyward’s to see him. You stopped showing up to the Chateau unannounced to see if he was there. You put a hold on everything you used to do to try and spend more time with him.

On the sixth day, you get a message from Kie.

KieKie: Okay, this has gone on long enough. What is going on with you and Pope???

No idea what you’re talking about

KieKie: Really? Then why haven’t you been around lately and why is Pope snapping at all of us all the time now?

How Pope reacts to JJ’s stupid jokes has nothing to do with me and I’ve just been busy lately

KieKie: busy with what?

KieKie: you know what I don’t care we’re having a bonfire later tonight and you’re coming

Fine.

You don’t want to say that you’re nervous to see Pope, but the way your hands are sweating and you can’t hear anything over the sound of your own heartbeat probably means that you’re nervous. You pull up to the chateau when it's already dark. You can see the light from the fire and hear your friends’ laughter before you even get out of the car. You take a moment to hype yourself up, trying to get all your nerves out before seeing him. The walk from the car to the back of the chateau feels like it takes forever and two seconds all at the same time. No one notices your presence at first, too wrapped up in whatever story JJ is animatedly telling. You quietly sit yourself down on the grass next to Kie’s feet. Funny enough, Pope notices you first.

He springs to his feet, eyes locked on you. Everyone else pauses and then follows his gaze. As a group, they chorus out your name. You roll your eyes as they all start talking to you at once. John B even throws a rock at you for “ditching them this past week”. Pope doesn’t say anything though, just stands there staring at you. You stare back.

“Hey, Pope, could you go grab another case of beer from the kitchen for us, bro?” John B asks. You fleetingly glance at the full case sitting by his feet and then back at Pope.

“Yea, yea, and maybe you should go with him,” JJ says, looking at you. “You know how heavy those cases can be. He might need help.”

Pope raises an eyebrow at you so you stand. You walk back to the chateau without checking to see if he’s following. The moment you step into the empty house though, he’s right behind you. You can feel the warmth coming off him and you missed it. You missed him.

“Are you going to Midsummers?” Pope asks. You’ve settled into a corner in the kitchen with him standing at the entrance looking at you. That’s not what you expected him to say though and you say as much.

“Kiara’s parents are making her go and she’s been talking about it all week. There’s apparently a lot of prep that goes into it. You know, with the whole picking a dress and then trying to find a matching suit for your date. She’s trying to get JJ to agree on this weird shade of purple,” he explains. You’re still confused.

“Okay. I don’t know where you’re going with this, Pope.”

He runs a hand down his face roughly and then lets out a deep sigh, “Do you not want to go to Midsummers with me? Do you not want to take me as your date or something?”

And then it clicks. Is that all he wants? To be shown off in front of Kie? He must note your rising anger because he’s quick to start speaking again. “It’s fine if you don’t!” he reassures, “I just thought that would be something you wanted, but you haven’t said anything and you actually haven’t said much of anything lately and I just—” he sighs again— “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what I did wrong. Tell me what I did wrong, please.”

“You could have texted me,” you say. He’s visibly upset and you’re fighting to not rush over there and comfort him. This might be the end of your relationship though, you have to stay strong. “If you wanted to talk to me so bad you could have messaged me yourself. Communication goes both ways, Pope.” He just stands there, staring at you with his mouth agape and it makes you angrier. “You know, if all you wanted was an ego boost, I would have preferred if you let me know at the beginning instead of leading me on like this.”

“What—”

“I get it, Kie rejected you and now you’re using me to fix what she broke–’’

“Hold on–”

“I get it, okay, but it would have been nice to know that you don’t actually like me the way I like you instead of letting me embarrass—”

“Let me speak, woman!” Pope yells, cutting you off. You’ve never heard him raise his voice before and definitely not at you. You stop talking immediately. “You think I don’t like you? You think my heart doesn’t skip a beat every time I look at you? You think I don’t light up on the inside every time you reach out to hold my hand or touch my neck. You think I don’t want you? Sometimes you get up to leave and I want to pull you back down into my lap so I can keep feeling you just a little bit longer. Sometimes I want to go with you, anywhere, everywhere. I just want to be wherever you are.

I have wanted you since I first met you in 5th grade. I didn’t even know what it meant then, all I knew was that you were pretty and my stomach felt all funny whenever you smiled at me. That’s all I know now too. Kie started bringing you around and I felt like I was in 5th grade all over again. I didn’t know what to do so I let you take the lead. And then we got together and I was so scared of ruining it, of ruining the best thing to ever happen to me, so I let you take the lead again. I want to do anything you want to do, as long as it's together. I want your name popping up on my phone every day, every hour. No, actually I don’t. If you are texting me that means we’re not together and I don’t want that. I want you in my personal space all the time.”

He stops talking to make his way over to you.

You’re stunned, rooted in your spot. You don’t stop him when he runs a careful finger along your cheek and down to your neck. You don’t stop him when he presses even closer to you, chest to chest, wedging himself into any free space he can find. He drops his face into the crook of your neck to run his nose up and down the skin there.

“I want you so fucking bad I don’t even know what to do with myself. You’ve been gone this week and it felt like the world was ending. You don’t know how many times I wanted to text you, call you, just to hear your voice. I like that you’re clingy because it means I get to cling back. Don’t ever, and I mean ever, disappear on me like that again. You’re mad at me, come yell at me. Get right up in my face if you have to, but don’t ignore me. Do you understand me?”

You nod.

“No, pretty girl, I’m gonna need to hear it. You’ve had me out of sorts all week. I need to know you won’t do it again. I can’t handle it,” he says, leaning back to look you in your eyes.

“I won’t do it again.”

“Good, good.” And then he kisses you. It's more forceful than the way he normally kisses you, almost bruising. He tips your head back as he gets even closer to you and you let him. You let him show you just how much he missed you, how much he wants you. You distractedly notice the catcalling and whistles from outside the kitchen window but you ignore them in favour of kissing your boyfriend. Turns out you weren’t a rebound after all.

#pope heyward x reader #finally writing for my boyfriend!!!#pope heyward #i just wanted to write someone being obsessed with him and this was the result no idea where the angst came from that was an accident #also i had more background info in my head I just didn't end up writing it so sorry about that #pope heyward x fem!reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #obx fanfiction #pope heyward fluff

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avionvadion · 10 months

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Kai'mana has finally gotten some decent camp clothes! The drow clothing looks super good on her with her scales, honestly. Astarion got the armor, Kai'mana got the clothing, lol.

Mostly just screenshots of my Dark Urge Kai'mana being pretty, but there are ASTARION ROMANCE SPOILERS below.

This is my second playthrough (because I lack self-restraint) so there are mentions of things that are revealed in Act Two.

ASTARION, PLEASE. XD

BABY. FEATHER BABY.

PROTECC

SHE GETS TO CARRY HIM!???? I LOVE IT.

I guess Dragonborn do count as the "buff" body type...

I can't actually believe they had the Dragonborn smooch. With their snouts, I figured Dragonborn would kinda... nuzzle or bump noses??? Something really affectionate and cute. Anyways, that's my headcanon. Astarion can place kisses to her snout, but she'd nuzzle his hair or something.

I do wish there was a way to trigger the romance without having to sleep with him, though. Especially since he later clearly expresses in Act Two that he's sex-repulsed/demisexual.

It's so interesting romancing Astarion from the beginning again, because you can tell when he's being genuine and putting on an act. And it's so sad. I want to give him all the hugs.

SHE'S. SO. FREAKING. PRETTY. LOOK AT HER SCALES. GORGEOUS. I LOVE HER SO MUCH. AHHHHHHHHHHH. HAVE YOU SEEN A PRETTIER DRAGONBORN DRUID???

Just... another screenshot of Kai'mana being ridiculously gorgeous, don't mind me. Also, I like that Volo was nice enough to replace her eye with a matching pink one- even though it's not necessarily identical, since the sclera of the fake one is white whereas the iris of her real eye takes up the whole space.

Gods, you're really pretty too. Even though I know the truth. T_T

NEW ARMOR. DYED.

She looks so badass. :3

I thoroughly enjoy how different her scales look in the different lightings. Sometimes they're the usual, sometimes they look purple with blue accents, sometimes they're black with blue accents- it's so fun. Really adds to the mystique, me thinks, and the charm.

I love this silly man so much.

Imagining Kai'mana and Astra (my Tav) in the same playthrough is so fun. But also I feel like if they both existed Kai'mana would actually be paired with Gale, since I love Astra with Astarion too much. That said, Kai'mana would still have that little thing with Shadowheart in the beginning because of how much they just click and get along, before realizing they're better off as besties.

Astra is the brains, Kai'mana is the brawn- Astra knows better than to have people poking her eyeballs, Kai'mana is like, "Y'know what? Couldn't hurt to try" and can now see invisible, lol.

And Astra would make sure BARD BESTIE IS SAFE.

Anyways, this is Astra for those who don't know. :3

Yes, I'm obsessed with the color blue. T_T

Her full name is Astra Tav'aria Duskraalis! Tav'aria is the pseudonym she uses for her works, as she is a Sorcerer Bard, while Duskraalis is her Drow surname. Her mother was a Wood Elf, while her father was Seldarine Drow.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 dark urge #bg3 oc #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #dark urge

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stray-cattt · 1 year

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If I could hold you, for one hour more

A falsettos angst fanfic, if you’d rather read it on A03, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47413327

Summary: Marvin and Whizzer are dancing together then get in an argument after Whizzer feels hurt from something Marvin said (classic Marvin), they talk it through and makeup then play chess. Nothing else happens at the end, mhm, yep, that's totally it, that's all that happens. If you think I'm lying read it

Context warnings: Implied/referenced character death

Marvin glances at Whizzers hand in his, the other one on his side as they sway together. They never had danced like this before, since Marvin would always refuse saying he couldn’t dance. But here they were, dancing together hand in hand. Whizzer wordlessly spun Marvin before they returned to their waltz.

“You lied, you can dance.” Whizzer rolled his eyes, spinning Marvin once more. At this Marvin halted, the music playing in their minds coming to a stop.

“I never said that,” Marvin scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away from Whizzer, refusing to meet his gaze.

“No, you did, you can’t lie to me Marvin, I can always tell.” Whizzer soured, taking a few steps toward him before flicking him in the forehead. Marvin met Whizzers inquisitive gaze frowning at the other man.

“Aww come on, where’s that smile of yours, you know you look prettier when you smile.” Whizzer jested, smirking a bit before nudging Marvin’s shoulder playfully.

“So what if I told you I couldn’t dance and I could, that’s my business.” Marvin huffed, walking over to their velvet couch. Whizzer stood there for a moment before joining him.

“I just would’ve liked to know, we could’ve danced sooner.”

“How did we even start dancing?” Marvin inquired.

“Does that matter? Come on Marv, let’s just enjoy the moment.” Whizzer responded, moving Marvin’s hair out of his face, before starting to run his hands through the others' hair. Marvin felt himself melting at his touch, and let himself relax shutting his eyes.

The two sat in a comfortable silence happy to be existing together in the same space.

“How come we don’t do this more often?” Marvin asked after a few minutes had passed. Whizzers hand stopped then pulled out of Marvin's hair.

“If you weren’t off playing family so much maybe we would, but you seem to be spending your efforts there, then coming back to the apartment to argue with me,” Whizzer answered, speaking with an edge to his voice. Marvin was left silent for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal to use against the other before one sparked in his mind.

“Well, at least I don’t sleep around with the whole city, pretty boy.” Marvin smirked, proud of what he had come up with, but also feeling a tinge of regret when he saw something shift in Whizzers eyes.

“Is that all you see me as? A pretty boy with no brain that will sleep with any man?” Whizzer soured, moving away from Marvin closer to the other side of the couch. Marvin for once was at a loss for words unsure what to say. At his silence, Whizzer scoffed before getting off the couch and making his way to the door. Before he could get too close to the door Marvin shot up and grabbed his wrist which Whizzer broke away from his grasp turning to him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, can we go back to how things were?” Desperation clear in his voice.

“No, you have to tell me what you actually think of me Marvin, because I can never tell with you,” Whizzer responded, letting out a breath he didn’t realize had been trapped in his throat. Marvin’s mouth twisted as he fidgeted with his hands trying to get his thoughts in order. Whizzer tapped his foot on the floor, “I haven’t got all the time in the world to wait for you.”

“I know just give me a second at least,” Marvin said, holding his hands up and taking a deep breath in. “God you never make it easy do you, Whizzer to me, you’re everything. As much as I might hate to admit it, I need you, you light up every room you walk into and never fail to make me smile. I know I give you a lot of shit and argue with you all the time, but you have something that I could never find in Trina or any other woman I was with. You thrill me like no other, make me feel smart, and make me feel like nothing else matters when it’s just you and me in each other's arms.”

Whizzer let everything Marvin said sink in, not expecting an actual genuine answer from him. Marvin was looking everywhere but Whizzers eyes, as he felt his filling with tears, the silence making him think the worst.

“Marv, you okay? I don’t hate you, I’m just processing.” Whizzer stated, bringing a hand up to the shorter’s cheek and brushing away the stray tear that had fallen. Marvin nodded, trying his best to not be overcome with emotions, pulling away from Whizzer to wipe his face on the sleeves of his shirt. It was a brief moment before Whizzer spoke again, “Thank you for saying all of that really, it means a lot coming from you.”

The two met each other’s gaze, giving soft smiles to the other, joining their hands together.

“Can I kiss you?” Marvin asked, pulling one of his hands away to anxiously fix his hair.

“Of course,” Whizzer answered, Marvin pulled Whizzer in by his hips and they met together for a soft kiss. A few seconds passed before they pulled apart, Marvin held Whizzer close in his arms taking in his scent, and letting his heart calm down. Begrudgingly after a minute or two Marvin pulled away smiling sweetly.

“Want to play chess?” He asked Whizzer, squeezing his hands.

“Is that even a question?” Whizzer questioned, smirking at Marvin with a knowing look in his eyes.

“I’ll let you win.”

“Don’t let me win.”

“I’ll let you win,”

Marvin’s eyes opened slowly to be met with his cold and dim room. He looks at the small digital clock on his nightstand blaring the numbers 4:09 AM. A pit forms in his stomach as he takes both of his hands and wraps them around his stomach feeling nausea hit his body. It doesn’t take long for him to begin to break down sobbing, his wails echoing in his empty apartment, once made for two. Marvin wishing for nothing more but Whizzers hands around his torso rather than his own as he feels himself crumbling to pieces.

“I feel as though you’ve ruined my ability to function properly Whizzer,” Marvin croaked, “But lord knows I would do it over and over again just to have you with me again.” More salty tears ran down his face, some slipping into his mouth as his sobs poured out of his mouth.

“Just one hour more, I just want to hold you for one hour more, God please.” Marvin mourned, clutching his pillow to his chest.

Somewhere deep inside Marvin, he felt guilty. Guilty for how he treated Whizzer, how he treated Trina, how he felt he failed as a father to Jason, how he seemed to ruin every good thing that happened to him, and part of him blamed himself for Whizzer dying.

Even sometimes he finds himself wondering if things would’ve been better if they had never met, or never kissed. That first kiss of theirs had started it all, sneaking out early in the mornings to see him, late at night, having lunch with him during his work lunch break. Whizzer’s kisses were his addiction, they made him feel things he’d never felt kissing Trina. He knew after the first time he kissed Whizzer that he’d never be sober again and he’d be happy that way. But now his supplier was gone, leaving Marvin eternally in withdrawal.

“Whizzer, what would I do if you hadn’t been my friend?” Marvin uttered under his breath before his eyes could no longer stay open and he passed out.

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diesukitsuki · 3 years

Note

Stop my brain RIGHT FUCKING NOOWWWW

thinking about sitting on bkg's lap while he is lying down, just sucking on his nipples while cockwarming him, bouncing sometimes

think about his flustered face, cute and shy moans and pink nipples being abused by your mouth-

ughhhh there is no enough bottom bakugou I swear, sometimes this man doesn't wanna think about everything, doesn't want to take care of everything

he wants to be spoiled, loved and taken care of!

cw : gn! reader, sub bakugou, short fic, nipple play, cock warming, 18+ only, ageless blogs and minors dni,

note : hngngh you have no idea how many times i’ve day dreamed about doing that to him.

sorry for the adrupt ending.. uhh i didn’t know what else to add also.. i’m shit at smut 💔

Be it genetics or some kind of sick joke from his past life, Katsuki’s nipples were annoyingly sensitive. Sensitive to the point where he has to be mindful of what material his shirts he should avoid, like cotton, or always having to avoid tight space in case of accidental... chafing.

It was something he could handle though. Nothing too serious. Nothing to cry about. If his chest happened to brush by something, he’d suck it up because it happens. A simple annoying inconvenience that he would forget about. Easy. Done.

As for you, you were an obstacle he wouldn’t have anticipated— ever— until you got a little too brave. You just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Seeing that his cute nipples are almost always pressed against his thin shirt, you can’t help but prod and poke at them, giggling as you watch him flinch and swat at your hand like a prissy cat.

It was hard to resist, really. Your boyfriend’s tits were so pretty and filled out nicely in his synthetic shirts. Sometimes you would treat yourself by letting your eyes drift down, all of his words fizzing out of your brain as he talked about this and that, who and what, where and how.

That’s when your brain delves into fantasies that he would probably be too embarrassed to let you indulge onto him. Your would blink slowly as you continue you stare, letting the dilating void in your eyes take in the shape of plush pecs. Thinking about squeezing them, sucking them, milking them.

“Oi,” He snaps his fingers in front of you. Your eyes flutter, and you’re back from your enriching vision. “eyes up here, perv.”

“Can’t help, handsome. Y’got nice tits.”

He clicks tongue and turns his head away. You don’t miss his reddened cheeks. Cute, you coo inwardly. ”Don’t call ‘em that. It’s fuckin’ embarrassing.”

“Get less prettier tits then.” Your eyes dropping back down to stare at them. “Can’t help it..” You trail off.. Your voice dipping like you’re entranced by his chest. Might as well be.

“God, your basically drooling all over them.”

“I’d actually do it, if you’d let me.”

“Shut up before I kill you.”

It’s funny how fussy he got whenever you got too handsy with his chest. Swatting your hand away when went to grab a handful. Promising death when you ogled him for too long— Always so demanding. Always so bossy. Though, you have him on a leash, especially when he’s drooling and begging for you to move your hips. The make out sessions before hand not satiating anything.

“Patience, honey.” You coo to him, adjusting yourself purposely like you had for the nth time to watch him whine underneath you. His fat cock rubbing against your velvet walls. “You’re doing so good, baby. You just gotta be a little more patient.”

“Please..” He keens softly. His usually sharp eyes are dulled down into something soft and hazy, like tumbling sea glass, as he looks up at you. “Want you to move s’badly..” He whines. The vice on your hips tells you the same thing.

“I know,” You reassure. “I know. ‘m just gonna try something, m’kay? Can we do that first?” You press a kiss against his swollen lips when he complies with an eager nod, and you feel him melt against you. “Good.” You say with a smile.

You press kisses down the column of his neck. Revisiting bruises with kitten lick, and inking blank skin with your teeth. His hands find their way to your shirt. His hands fisting them as you continue to mark him up. The subtle vibration of his whimpers and mewl can be felt as you make your journey down to his chest.

Katsuki lets out a curse when you lap at his pert bud before taking a good mouthful of his pecs into your mouth. Sweet moans fall from his lips as you suck and lap at his nipple. Your free hand groping at the fat of his pecs, occasionally tweaking or pinching at his nipples.

“Hngh,, ‘s too much..” The collar of your shirt touches your neck as he pulls your shirt down from behind. You let out a soft groan as you feel his hips shift. His dick moving inside you. The vibration of your groan has his muscles tightening, “Fuck, pl— hah—Please.. It’s too much.” A whine escapes when he feels you tighten at his please.

You unlatch yourself from his tits. Your hands replace the empty spot for you. It was too hard to resist, especially if they’re all shiny and pretty from your spit. You look at him. His face hinted with tears. Poor baby was too overwhelmed. You lean over to lick them away before pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead.

“C’mon, just a little more for me, baby.” You coo. Your thumbs runs soft delicate circles that leaves Katsuki whimpering. “You can do it, hm? It’ll feel good I promise. I’ll even go a little gentler. How ‘bout it.”

Katsuki sniffles and nods. You smile press a kiss to his lips before descending back down to give the other side the same treatment. This time a little more gentler. You look up at him, gouging his reaction. His eyes are shut, and his eyebrows are strewn together as he cries out to you in delight.

You grind your hips, moaning around his plush pecs as his fat cock grinds within you. He throws his head back in response. His hands slam against the couch cushion, grasping at the fabric to stable himself as he sobbed out your name.

“S’good, want more.. Please n—ngh—need more, baby.. Please.”

You suck a little harder. Your tongue lapping and circling around his nipple as your other hand pinched and teased the his other pec. His eyes roll to the back of his head as you continued to grind your hips into him. Katsuki cries and writhes underneath you as you milk and fuck him prettily.

Bout of ‘yes’s and ‘fuck’s spouted out of his mouth in chants. His hips threatening to jump to press himself even deeper into your. Katsuki lets out a scream when a hot and pleasurable pain surges through him when you bite down on his pecs. You feel his cock pulses before feeling his hot cum shoot up into you. He’s boneless under you, whining and whimpering about how good it felt.

You let out a chuckle,“Good boy. You did such a good job.”

#novah.thirsts #novah.writes #novah.shorts #no wc bc on phone smile #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #smut

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oh-katsuki · 2 years

Note

enemies to lovers college volleyball star tsukki and cheerleader reader

they cross paths in the gym each morning- fighting over the colleges limited space and equipment-- tsukki can't understand why the REST of the team LIKES reader?? because sure she's pretty or whatever, but she's so stubborn-

they end up at kuroo's party and end up sneaking out together and.... go home together to watch star trek.. they get French fries from a sketchy food truck and pass out in tsukki's dorm room... have a lovely night and have to walk to their practices together in the morning....

I TOTALLY FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS IM SORRY 😭😭😭

grits teeth. GRITS TEETH. MOANS AND WRITHES ON THE FLOOR.

tw: smut, alcohol, no dubcon (they’re sober when they fuck), reader is referred to once as a girl but gender neutral pronouns are used otherwise.

tsukishima doesn't get why his team is obsessed with you because god, your personality is insufferable, isn't it? such a know it all, always mouthing off about something. really, kei's always thought cheerleaders were dumb by nature, but you're just... not.

worse yet, he can't really seem to get you out of his mind. your irritating leer that matches his own when you get something you want over him. the way you smile at your friends, how they collect around you like you're magnetic, the way you'll study outside of the gym before practice sometimes, nose buried in a book and your hand dutifully taking down notes.

when he closes his eyes, he sees the curl of your knuckles around a pencil, or the way your laugh rings out of the locker room in a proud and boisterous display of joy. he can see you dancing with your team behind his eyelids, sees the way you look at him, confident and intelligent and cunning. really... he doesn't get how his team could be so obsessed with such an insufferable girl.

they don't even really know you. they'll talk about your ass in your skirt, the way your tits look in your uniform, how you walk and sway your hips when you do. but very rarely will they comment on your sharp intellect, or the way you kiss your teeth when he's gotten to the equipment you were eyeing first, or how competitive you are. he thinks that if they saw all of that, they'd probably understand where his disagreement comes from. because it is disagreement, kei convinces himself of it every time he sees you. nothing more and nothing less than disliking the mouthy cheerleader he shares a gym with.

then, kei goes out on one of those rare nights where he's feeling more social. kuroo had convinced him and though he'd rather spend his time in his dorm instead of standing in a room with a bunch of boisterous, drunk, athletes, he goes anyway. and imagine his surprise to see the book smart cheerleader there, batting off some guy vying for your attention.

"shouldn't you be home studying?" he says, walking over with a red solo cup in his hand, interrupting the convo and shutting it down in the process.

"could say the same to you, four eyes. you obsessed with me or something?" you leer back, words rounded from the liquor in your system but not sloppy. kei doesn't think you could ever be sloppy.

"you're the one always hanging around my gym." he rolls his eyes.

"our gym, beanpole." you correct, lifting your cup to your lips and eyeing his. "i didn't know you drink."

he ignores your correction, glancing to the cup grasped in his slender fingers. "sometimes."

you hum thoughtfully before bouncing off.

it's honestly deplorable the way you gravitate to each other. kei thinks that it must be the liquor. it's making you just a bit prettier, just a bit kinder, just a bit more agreeable. though he realizes on the walk to the food truck that you might have been agreeable the entire time. he finds that you've got a soft spot for the same series, the same nerdy things that he keeps in the back of his brain. that you're mouthy but talk so sweetly about the things you enjoy, rambling through your tipsy stupor about star trek of all things.

kei thinks that maybe, just maybe, his teammates are right about you. even if they don't know you. because he does and he's finding that he's starting to agree with them, though his agreement is far less crude.

if you're surprised, imagine his when he kisses you. swiftly in a moment of silence leaning across the open space to press his heated mouth to yours. but where he expected resistance, you melt into him and his desire comes full-fledged to the front of his mouth, where his tongue slides against yours. after so long lying about his thoughts on you, it only makes sense that when he finally gets a taste, his passion is burning.

it singes across your skin, greedy hands pulling at your hips till you're in his lap, angry, heated kisses. the click and switch of mouths against each other and the sweet gasps out of your familiar mouth, one he's watched spit insults at him for what feels like centuries.

imagine his surprise when he realizes that he is sober, that you are too and this encounter cannot be blamed on alcohol. that he has always had this latent desire born of competition, of admiration for your intellect that matches or even surpasses his, of the peeks of flesh he gets when you dance on the courtside.

and it's certainly not all sweet touches, not all kindness and giving, because you and kei are both far too competitive for that, you want too badly to show the other up. after the hesitance fades, you both are left only with burning desire, the kind that bubbles in your throat and makes you want to scream. and kei's fingers pull at the skin on your hips while you're on top. he bleeds arousal from his chest where you press him down, into the warmth of your cunt, or the spill of his high across your stomach when he finally pins you under him.

there's something so satisfying in fucking you, in sleeping in the same bed after. less satisfying is the walk to the gym the next morning and even then he savors it on his tongue. he savors the looks from his teammates when you duck your head after walking in with him, heat across your cheeks burning so hot that he swears they can feel it. kei does not, however, relish in the questions from his teammates when they ask if he, of all people, bagged that. such a crude way to put it. you're far too smart to be talked about like that and kei values his privacy. but he relishes the taste of his response, the way his mouth forms around the syllables because he knows you'll give a similar one to your friends, cheeky as you are.

"them? have you met them?" peering over his glasses, he'll roll his eyes. "a little too mouthy for me."

and you are mouthy. vocal too. kei knows it.

#[ 🏩 – chatting ]#[ ☎️ – frequent callers ]#[ 💋📞– thirsts ]#tsukishima thirst #tsukishima drabble #tw: alcohol

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kaghoeyama · 3 years

Text

three of cups.

featuring: eren jaeger, armin arlert, afab reader.

word count: 5.5k

summary: you, eren and armin have been best friends for ages. there’s always been an underlying tension between the three of you, until that tension finally snaps.

content warning: smut, college au, post-timeskip characters, alcohol consumption (characters are tipsy but not inebriated), threesome, mlm, mutual pining, voyeurism, thigh riding, fingering (f receiving), slight edging, use of good boy/good girl, masturbation, cumplay

a/n: uhh so i was horny and this happened. pls be kind this is like my first fanfic ever (also english is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes feel free to let me know).

update: so apparently tumblr took out a whole ass paragraph after the “keep reading” and then repeated two different paragraphs twice?? i’ve seen people trying to fix this by adding asterisks so i’m doing the same. sorry about that lol.

18+ CONTENT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

So loud, you think.

You can almost feel the room vibrate with beat of the music, your steps naturally adapting to the rhythm as you make your way through a crowd of college students in various states of dishevelment. A smile comes to your lips. The whole place smells of alcohol and sweat and the floor is sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at the chaos; the year had been brutal for a lot of you and with finals finally behind you, no one was gonna miss the chance to loosen up and just have fun, yourself included. Which was exactly what brought you to make this little trip across the room, eyes fixed on your objective.

He’s leaning against the wall, his golden hair making it easier for you to spot him in the crowded room. His eyes are trained on his phone as he mindless scrolls down with his thumb, so you’re not too surprised when he doesn’t notice you straight away, even when you’re standing right in front of him.

You take a moment to take in his delicate features, his skin turned to porcelain by the bright light coming from his phone; the alcohol makes you bold enough to trail a hand up his arm and rest on his cheek, successfully shifting his attention to you. His face relaxes in a smile when he sees you, but his eyebrows are still raised in surprise at your sudden closeness; he opens his mouth to greet you but you’re quicker, “Armin, would you please let me kiss you?”, your gaze keeping him pinned against the wall.

“I- what?”

You relish in the way his breath catches in his throat, and you certainly don’t miss the flush that comes to his face or the way his eyes drop to your lips.

“It’s for a dare… please?” your answer comes so innocent to his ears and he tries not to think at how pretty your plea sounded, even prettier than he’d fantasized so many times now.

“I- I mean, yeah, sure” he stammers; you chuckle when close the distance between you, his pretty blue eyes still confused as you press your lips against his.

The kiss comes out of the blue for him, yet you don’t miss the way his hands instinctively grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him. You hum into the kiss, your body suddenly so warm as he moves his lips against yours; he’s so pliant, all you had to do was ask and now he’s all over you, his grip keeping you flush against his body. Your fingers slip between his golden locks and when you lightly tug at them his hold grows tighter, his lips parting with a low moan. You swear you hear him whimper as you slip your tongue past his lips, taking control of the kiss as you explore his mouth, warm and wet and oh his hands are gripping your ass now, and you moan into the kiss as you feel his erection poking at your hip.

“The dare said ‘kiss’ but if you two wanna get a room…” Sasha’s loud voice somehow reaches you from across the room and you pull back from the kiss, a string of spit connecting still connecting your mouths. He’s panting, mouth still parted, and you can’t help but stare at his pink lips, slightly puffed and still shiny from the kiss.

Without thinking you brush a thumb against his lower lip, “so pretty” you murmur.

Armin swallows around nothing, and when your eyes meet his pupils are all blown out, pleading, almost begging you to close the distance once again. Fuck he looks so flustered, heat pooling between your legs as you wonder how he’d look if you took his cock in your mouth, if you could make him so lost in pleasure that his smart little brain couldn’t form any coherent thoughts.

You feel his arm around your shoulders before you see him, his usual scent of soap and lemon shampoo now mixed with a hint of smoke. You rest your head against his shoulder, your body craving physical contact after the kiss you’d shared with the blond. “Hi ’ren” you murmur against his shirt, dazed eyes looking up at him and then shifting to Armin. Your kiss was enough to make his brain fuzzy but now, with Eren’s arm wrapped around him and his body so close, he felt completely overwhelmed.

Eren pressed a kiss over your hair and pulled you and Armin even closer. “You shouldn’t keep all the fun to yourselves, don’t you know that sharing is caring?” he whispered, loud enough for both of you to hear through the music.

You can’t believe that cheesy line sent a shiver through your body. You figure it’s because of Eren.

“Maybe we should make use of that tequila bottle in our dorm room, what do you say Armin?” he adds, the blond choking out a soft affirmation. You doubt your sober self would have done that, but you were tipsy enough not to care when you took both their hands, interlacing your fingers with their own, a teasing smile gracing your lips. “Then what are we waiting for?”

You feel strangely calm as you walk down the hallway. It’s definitely quieter than the party, and your attention is quickly drawn from one dorm room to another, where you catch glimpses of people smoking and drinking to the sound of at least ten different playlists.

Again, you smile. For the third year now you’re witnessing how your otherwise rigorous and law abiding campus turns into a huge frat party in the weekend after finals. You don’t know if it’s the warm weather or the fact most common spaces are surprisingly clean by monday that makes everyone look the other way, either way you’re thankful. You close your eyes for a moment as you walk, slightly overwhelmed by the music and the loud chatter and the drink you had at the party, your brain lost in a pleasant buzz.

A light squeeze to your hand brings you back to earth. Your head turns to your left, eyes slowly opening to meet a pair of blue ones.

“Are you okay?” Armin asks softly, the tiniest hint of concern slipping past his lips. You wait a beat before addressing his question, choosing to look at him instead. You note that his cheeks are almost as pink as his lips, and that his blue t-shirt makes his eyes sparkle; you ignore how your stomach flips when you realize he’d been holding your hand since you’d left the party.

“I’m great,” you say as you shift closer to him “I’m in a good mood actually.”

You catch Eren’s eyes leaving you as he turns his head forward and keeps walking in front of you. You let your gaze travel from his head – you loved that half bun he kept his hair in more than you should – to his broad shoulders, entranced by the way his black t-shirt stretches over his muscular back.

You must have missed the part where he stopped in front of the dorm room, because you end up bumping against that back.

“You’re completely out of it” Eren teases with a grin.

“No, I’m not” you retort, “as I said, I’m in a good mood.”

The look he gives you is playful. “You call it good mood, I call it being drunk.”

“I had literally just one drink, there’s no way anyone could get drunk from that.”

“Depends on how strong the drink is.”

“Will you shut up?”

You’re still bickering as you enter the room, Armin rolling his eyes at the two of you with a fond smile. Once Eren shuts the door though, you all fall quiet.

The only light came from the blue led Armin had put on his side of the room, casting a glow over your faces that was almost ethereal. There’s a weird tension, a nervous feeling gripping your stomach and making you tingle with anticipation. You’d been alone with them in that very room more times than you could count, cramming for tests, watching a movie or simply hanging out, but tonight something was different. You sit next to Armin on his bed, eyebrows knitting together as you quickly try to analyse that feeling.

The three of you had been friends for ages, since you all attended the same elementary school and lived down the same street. You had bonded with Armin first, his quiet and intelligent personality matching well with yours. You remember fondly the warm afternoons in his backyard, grass tickling your skin as he showed you his new ocean life books and you rambled about ancient Egypt, Greek myths or whatever you were fixating on at the moment.

Eren on the other hand – at first you couldn’t stand him. You only knew him as ‘Armin’s other friend’, but he was such a loud and hot headed kid, you’d always found his attitude too off-putting to even start a conversation, and you were pretty sure he didn’t like you either. After some pushing from Armin though, you’d actually tried to get to know each other; much to your surprise, you found out you had a lot of interests in common. Eventually, you’d even come to admire how passionate he got about the things he cared about, how strong his ideals were, and with time his impulsivity left room to a much more calculated approach.

After all these years, the three of you were still as thick as thieves; you’d become so comfortable around each other that people always assumed you were either dating one of them. You’d always brush it off with a laugh, but now you wonder if it’s normal for friends to behave like that around each other. It was the little things at first; lingering touches, wondering eyes, teasing comments. Then Eren’s hands all over you every time you wore a pretty dress, or Armin’s obvious erection that time you and Eren were messing around at the pool; even your friends had noticed how close you were – and never missed a chance to tease you about it.

This is stupid, you conclude. They’re your oldest and closest friends, you won’t allow your attraction to them – at least you’re admitting it’s there – to make things weird.

You move to get the tequila you know they keep hidden in the closet; maybe that will shake the awkwardness away. You take a long sip before handing the bottle to the blond, alcohol still burning in your throat as you lay on your back, head resting on his lap.

You feel him still beneath you; when you look at him, his flustered expression is clear despite the dim lit room – before you can catch yourself, you wonder if he’s still hard from before.

Eren looks at the both of you on Armin’s bed. You’ve closed your eyes and your head is lightly nodding along with some music coming from the hallway, the beat muffled by the closed door. He watches Armin, a fond smile dancing on his lips as he can almost hear the mental pep talk the blond gives himself before raising a hand to play with your hair. You hum at that, eyes slowly opening as you turn your head towards him.

“Eren, come closer” you say, stretching out an arm as if to reach him.

“And why would I do that” he answers with a playful smile on his lips.

You raise your eyebrow, smiling back to him. “If you insist on staying over there, I guess Armin and I are really gonna keep all the fun to ourselves, isn’t that right Armin.” You say lightly, rising from his lap to lay against his side, your body wrapping around his arm; his hand ends up between your closed thighs and somehow you manage not purr in his ear as you rest your head on his shoulder, both of you now facing Eren.

When Armin speaks, you don’t miss how his playful tone hides a hint of malice, eyes fixed on the brunette, “oh I’m sure he wouldn’t mind just watching if we were actually having fun.”

Eren laughs at that, his voice dropping lower.

“True” he admits calmly, as if the thought hadn’t brought him to several orgasms through the years, “but right now I think I’d rather join.”

And he does, sitting close to your other side.

You wish that type of exchange wasn’t as common as it was between the three of you. You also wish it didn’t send a wave of arousal trough your body every single time.

You watch him as he leans toward you to grab the bottle from Armin’s hand, taking a sip of the amber liquor. Your eyes follow a drop of alcohol at the corner of his mouth, unconsciously tightening your hold on the blond as Eren’s tongue comes out to bring the drop past his lips.

In that moment, Armin decides he’s had enough. He’s way too turned on to let all this teasing slide; if the three of you really are as attracted to each other as he thinks, this was the time he was gonna do something about it. So when he speaks, he does with a purpose.

“Is it weird that I’ve kissed both my best friends?” his question sounds so innocent, he even lets out a calculated chuckle to feign embarrassment.

Eren tilts his head toward him, throwing him a curious glance “You still remember that? Must have been one hell of a kiss huh” he smirks.

Armin knows he’s teasing, and that he clearly remembers too, but he can’t help the pink blush that colours his cheeks as his thoughts rush back to that night.

It happened first semester of junior year, after Sasha’s ‘small’ housewarming party had quickly turned into a full blown party. As the music got louder and more and more people filled the tiny flat, Jean, all tipsy and bright eyed, had gathered all of you in Sasha’s room to play spin the bottle – most of you had booed him, but you’d followed him anyway.

After watching you awkwardly peck Connie on the lips and Mikasa blush violently as Sasha took her face between her hands and gave her a loud smooch, it was his turn to play. He gave the bottle a spin and almost choked on his spit when it landed on Eren. He remembers everyone cheering as he tried to stop his face from flushing red, looking everywhere but at Eren; that’s how his eyes landed on you, quiet where your friends were loud, your eyes focused on him in a way that was almost daring.

He followed your gaze as it moved towards Eren, finally making eye contact with the boy. His attempts look composed failed miserably when Eren, a lazy smirk spreading on his lips, beckoned him with his hand to move closer.

“I- uh we don’t have to…” he choked out.

Eren’s smirk grew wider, “It’s just a game Armin, what are you scared of?”

Armin couldn’t tell if his tone was soft or mocking, either way he felt as he had something to prove now.

He stood on his knees and crawled on the floor as Eren mirrored him, ignoring the way his stomach flipped as they met in the middle of the circle, so close he could feel his breath over his lips.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean said from somewhere behind him, “it’s not like you haven’t done this before” he teased.

Armin wanted to turn back and state that no, they had not actually done that before – he’d probably sound way more disappointed than he should – but before he could even open his mouth he felt a hand on his cheek; his eyes flickered back to Eren’s green ones, only to find them trained on his lips as the brunette sealed the gap between them.

Eren’s lips felt so impossibly soft again his, he tasted like vodka and something sweet he couldn’t recognise and Armin couldn’t really thing about anything as he lost himself in the kiss. The hand on his cheek moved through his hair and Eren pulled slightly, just enough to make Armin gasp against his lips, taking the chance to slide his tongue against his lower lip and into his mouth. Armin broke the kiss at that, a whimper leaving his lips because he wanted, needed more, but the feelings building up inside him – and the arousal making his pants tighter – were sending him in a slight panic.

He barely registered his friends’ loud noises as he sat back on his spot, but he didn’t miss the way Eren winked at him and licked his lips, green eyes boring into his blue ones. Armin struggled to act like his normal self rather than some teenager who had just kissed his long time crush. He desperately tried to focus on something, anything but Eren and his stupid lips and stupid grin and stupidly pretty eyes right in front of him, and that’s how his eyes found you again.

You had watched the whole scene with an interest you hoped went unnoticed by your friends. You sure hoped Mikasa, sat right next to you, had missed the way your breath hitched in your throat as you watched the blond gasp under Eren’s grip, heat coursing through your body and pooling between your legs. When Armin’s blue eyes found you, flustered, with half lidded eyes and teeth sunk in your bottom lip, you’d lowered your head in shame.

Eren rests his head again the wall and closes his eyes, as to enhance the memory.

It had been over a year ago, yet he remembered Armin’s sweet lips against his, the small noises he unconsciously let out going straight to his groin.

He remembered your face, eyes glossy with desire as you watched them part, flustered almost as much as Armin, as if you’d been the one kissing him instead, and oh had he wanted to kiss you. Had it been just the three of you in that room, he would have grabbed your face and bruised those pretty lips, forcing Armin’s sweet taste in your mouth.

He’d long given up the guilt that came with fantasising about his closest friends, any uncomfortable feeling quickly replaced by pleasure every time he wrapped his hand around his cock. At first it was just one of you under him, on top of him; soon enough he’d started picturing both of you on your knees, eyes bright and pleading, pink tongue hanging out of your mouths as you wait for him to paint your pretty faces with his cum.

“So who’s the best kisser?” you ask, your warm breath against Armin’s ear making him shiver.

“I can’t- You both… I’m not gonna answer that.” Armin manages to sound flustered when he answers.

Eren looks at him. “I would” he states nonchalantly, “but I don’t have all the materials to make my choice.” His tone drops to a low murmur, green eyes slowly shifting to you.

Armin tries to hold back a smile, both of you reacting exactly as he anticipated.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, it’s beat so loud you’re sure both of the boys can hear it; when you speak, you desperately try to keep your voice steady.

“Then god forbid you make an uniformed decision.”

Eren is straight up grinning at this point; he grabs your wrists and tugs you closer, pulling you on his lap. You balance yourself on his shoulders as his hands graze your bare thighs up and down, your skirt bunching up to your hips and barely covering your panties.

When your eyes meet, you’re shocked at how softly he’s looking at you. “I’ve been waiting a while for this” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper, and you swear you can feel him stroking your cheek before burying his hands your hair and drawing you closer. He’s so warm all pressed up against you, so sweet when his lips ghost against yours before finally kissing you.

You’re slow to respond at first, too lost in how right it feels to have him so close and all over you, but you’re quick to part your lips for him, his tongue sliding against yours; he tastes of alcohol and you get drunk on it, a small moan leaving your throat and getting lost in the kiss. You whimper as you feel him groping your ass and push you even closer. He’s kissing you like a man starved, devouring you, the intensity making you feel light headed. You break apart from the kiss with a sigh, head falling on his shoulder, barely registering what you’re doing as you lightly grind against his hardening cock.

Eren groans as he tugs your hair so that you can look at him, his dark pupils swallowing up almost any trace of green.

“So needy… how many times have you thought about this?” he asks, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers play with the hem of your skirt.

You look away from him, cheeks heating up; you don’t want to admit how many times you’ve cummed on your fingers with their names on your lips, but you don’t think you have a choice.

His head dips lower to press an open mouth kiss to the column of your throat, “Answer baby, there’s no need to be shy; we’re all friends here.”

You suck in your breath, voice embarrassingly shaky “so- so many times, w- with both of you” you confess.

Armin groans at your words, a curse slipping past his lips. “We- we could have done this so long ago” he mumbles, eyes fixed on you as he palms himself through his jeans. You feel so hot under his gaze, so wanted, you never want his eyes to leave your body.

Eren steals your attention by sucking a purple mark at the base of your neck; you bite back a moan as he licks at the bruise, heat pooling in your panties. he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“This won’t do” he says softly against the shell of your ear “how can Armin hear all your pretty noises if you hold them back?”

Before you can choke out an apology, his lips go back on your neck, finding that sweet spot below your ear that makes you whimper. You’re trembling as he sucks another bruise on your skin and this time you don’t hold back, soft moans leaving your lips as your hands grips his hair, tugging it loose and fawning all over his shoulders.

Eren pulls back, admiring his work as you try to steady your breath.

“Good girl” he murmurs, “let us hear you.”

You shudder at his words. You don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, and he’s barely put his mouth on you. You can feel wet slick gathering in your panties and you shift to straddle one of his thighs, grinding hard to relieve the tension as your head falls back, a loud moan leaving your lips.

Two strings of low curses reach your ears, and you barely register Armin slipping a hand under his pants as Eren pulls you down on him again, the knee you have trapped between his legs pressing against his hard cock.

“Fuck, baby you wanna cum like that? Riding my thigh?” he pants, slightly bouncing his leg up to meet your movements, successfully drawing another moan out of your lips.

He brings a hand your face, almost reverent as his thumb grazes your lower lip, just like you’d done with Armin barely an hour ago. Your tongue darts out and licks the tip of his thumb before wrapping your lips around it, sucking slightly as you nod, eager.

Eren parts his lips, eyes glued to your mouth. He can’t believe he finally has you – both of you – as he wants you, as he’s pictured so many times; he wonders if he’ll come undone in his pants like a teenager, as you add pressure on his throbbing cock with each grind of your hips. He slips his finger from your warm lips, rushing his hands under your skirt to take off your panties.

When you finally readjust yourself on his thick thigh, you almost sob at the feeling of your bare, sensitive cunt against the rough material of his pants. Before you can resume your movements, he lifts up the piece of fabric, dangling it in front of your face.

“Look at this” he murmurs, “completely soaked” his voice trailing off as an idea suddenly forms in his mind.

He turns to Armin, and fuck, he feels his cock twitch at the sight. The blond is laying against the headboard, legs spread apart; he has a hand wrapped tight at the base of his hard, leaking cock, his pretty face all scrunched up in pleasure.

Armin’s cheeks heat up when he notices Eren’s eyes on him, but it doesn’t stop him from slowly stroking his cock, trying to delay his orgasm as much as possible.

“’Min, you think you could use these?” Eren asks, dark eyes dropping between the blond’s legs. Armin’s eyes widen at the request, his brain shutting down for a moment as he looks at the drenched panties in his hand.

“What? I- I-…” he looks at you, dazed, half lidded eyes boring into his blue ones as you rub slowly on eren’s thigh. “Y- yes please” he chokes out, shame reddening the tip of his ears.

“So polite… what a good boy” Eren purrs, his deep voice making Armin twitch in his own hand.

He takes the panties, the beads of your arousal thick on the side your cunt was, and he wraps the fabric around his cock. You watch with wide eyes, struggling to believe that sweet innocent Armin would ever give you such a lewd sight; you’re itching to lean over and kiss, lick, bite every inch of his body, but Eren’s grip on your waist keeps you in place.

Armin moans loudly as your slick smears all over his shaft. He keeps rubbing at himself with your panties trapped between his hand and his cock and how the fuck is this already topping every sexual experience I’ve ever had he manages to think. His eyes trail up and down your body, Eren’s body, and he doesn’t even notice how much his strokes speed up, hips bucking desperately into his own hand.

“Slow down baby or you’ll miss all the fun” Eren’s voice is as soft as the hand he puts on his leg to appease him. “If you behave, y/n will let you cum on her, right?” he says, sneaking a hand between your legs and sliding two fingers between your dripping folds.

“Ah- ye- yes Armin, wherever you want” you squeak, arching your back as Eren slips his fingers inside you. You feel inebriated as he slowly starts pumping, his fingertips massaging your walls, so slowly you want to cry. You wail when his fingers curl over your sweet spot, a hand gripping your waist to stop you from fucking yourself against his hand.

“Please ‘Ren, oh god, please, faster” you sob, high pitched moans slipping past your lips before you even realise it.

Instead of listening to you, Eren pulls his fingers out and slides them up to your clit, collecting your slick; you whimper when he retracts his hand from your cunt, pressing down on his thigh once again to get more friction. When your clit brushes against a wrinkle in his pants your eyes roll inside your head, orgasm so close you can taste it, but apparently Eren has other plans.

“Not yet baby, hold it for a bit longer, will you?” he purrs close to your ear, his mouth peppering wet kisses on your neck.

“Please a-ah Eren I c-can’t-” your words come out as broken sobs but you’ve long stopped caring, your brain filled with nothing but pleasure.

When Eren looks at your face you look absolutely wrecked, sweat shining on your forehead and cheeks red from the strain, chest heaving as quick pants come out of your parted lips. “

Armin, come here.” He says, hungry eyes still locked on yours. The blond obeys and shuffles closer to the two of you, your panties forgotten on the bed.

“You’ve been so good I think you deserve a reward” he says, as he pushes the glistening fingers he’d just pulled out of your cunt straight into Armin’s pretty mouth.

The blond moans at your taste, both hands coming to grab Eren’s wrist and push his fingers further in his mouth, choking slightly when they hit the back of his throat. Eren watches him in a trance, mesmerised by his blown eyes and the drop of spit that dribbles from the corner of his mouth. He wants to fucking ruin him. But not yet.

He takes his hand from the blond’s grasp – the whimper that leaves his mouth almost makes him cum on the spot. Eren lifts you from his lap, ignoring your pout as he places you right beside Armin.

“Sit still for me” he says as he slowly palms his cock before unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down with his boxers. You hear Armin suck in his breath as Eren’s hard cock slaps against his stomach, your own eyes widening at the sight; in length he almost matches the blonde, but the girth is just… fuck. Even dwarfed by his huge hand it’s almost intimidating, a thick vein reaching his pink leaking tip.

Eren takes his time as he pumps himself, eyes fixed on both of you; he drinks in your pretty, desperate faces, hands clutching the bedsheets as you try not to squirm under his gaze.

“Where do you wanna cum ’Min?” Eren’s question snaps him off a stupor, eyes leaving his groin to settle on your face.

You’re surprised Armin can blush more than he already is as he stutters that he wants to cum on you tits. You smirk as you quickly take off your top and unhook your bra, lust clouding you senses as you lay on the bed, head towards Eren as you motion Armin to straddle your waist. His eyes flicker to Eren and you miss the brunette’s nod before Armin comes on top of you, knees straddling your thighs.

Armin can’t believe just how fucking pretty you look under him, naked except for that cute pleated skirt you’re somehow still wearing. His hand trails up your stomach to squeeze your tits, fingers playing with your nipples as he pumps himself faster.

You feel Eren’s hand cradle your face, “touch yourself” he says, and you do just that.

With your skirt bunched up at your waist and your fingers quickly circling your clit, Armin doesn’t stand a chance; he leans forward, a hand planted on the bed as he cums on your tits with loud moan and your name on his lips, warm liquid painting your heaving chest.

You watch the blond leaning back against the headboard, desperately trying to catch his breath; you lock eyes with him, toungue wetting your lips as you bring a hand up to play with the mess he made on you, getting high on the look of pure defeat on his face as you take your cum coated fingers back to your clit.

“Oh fuck” Eren can’t believe how wrecked his own voice sounds “who would have thought you two would be such dirty sluts” he pants, his hand sliding faster and faster against his cock.

You moan at his words “’Ren p-please can- can I-”

“Cum.” He orders, and you obey right away.

The sounds that leave your lips are nothing short of pornographic, your body shaking and twitching in pleasure, mouth agape and head thrown back as white lights explode behind your eyelids, any coherent thought wiped out of your brain. Eren chokes out a curse at the sight, soft, high pitched groans echoing in the room until he finally cums with a broken moan, the liquid coating his hand and making a mess on his clothes.

It takes a while before any of you even attempts to move; silence falls in the room once again, except for your labored pants mixed with the music still playing in the hallway.

Eren is the first to get up and head for the bathroom. By the time you’ve all taken a shower and settled back on Armin’s bed, no one has still said a word. You feel anxiety settle low in your stomach, its grip speeding up your heartbeats.

Did you ruin everything? Is this the end of your friendship?

“So who’s the best kisser?”

Armin’s voice comes out tired and rough, but it puts a halt to the doubts swirling in your mind.

The breathy chuckle leaving Eren’s mouth sends a wave of relief through your body; “I’m sorry ’Min but y/n is definitely winning this one.” You smile as you feel his hand ghosting over your spine.

“Yeah, figured.”

The blond curls up against you and you’re still smiling.

The bed is way too small for the three of you and the night breeze coming from the window does little to cool you down, but you’ve never been better, a warm feeling spreading from where your bodies connect with each other.

As slumber takes you, you hope they’re still gonna be there when you wake up.

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mae-gi-writes · 3 years

Text

Once Again (PT.4) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART FOUR

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

----

"Miss Y/N, is daddy okay?" Hoisuke peers up at you from the backseat as you pull up to your apartment unit. You glance at him through the rearview mirror and smile, "don't worry, he's fine. He's just going to be slightly late."

Iwaizumi had called you earlier that day, sounding breathless and stressed out as he iterated how slow traffic was moving. On impulse, you'd proposed to bring Hoisuke over to your house to make things more comfortable and after a slight bout of hesitation, he'd agreed to pick his son up in the comfort of your home.

"This is the first time I come to your place, miss Y/N," Hoisuke's eyes are darting back and forth across the tiny kitchenette to your right to the small tv screen plugged to the wall on the left. Granted, your flat is merely anything special and far from ready for unexpected guests. But the sharp curiosity gleaming in your student's eyes holds no judgement and for that you apprrciate him all the more.

"You hungry?" You ask while settling him down at your tiny dinner table compact enough to fit snuggly up to your kitchen counter.

Hoisuke purses his lips in thought and you swear he's learnt this facial expression from observing his father, "hm yeah. A little bit," before throwing you a sheepish grin.

So you whip up something simple; omelette rice with your special Korean chilli sauce as a sudden downpour splatters through the cityscape, the rain dancing to its own rhythm as it splatters over your windowpane. The TV plays in the background, a random cartoon that gets interrupted with Hoisuke's giggles and that ignites an affectionate smile on your lips as you chide himto eat. And you're not really sure why your chest feels tight and filled to the brim with comfort, but you realise you don't actually mind having the small human around that much.

Teachers aren't supposed to have favourites. But you admit to yourself that teachers are only human. And if you are to choose, Hoisuke would be one of yours.

"Miss Y/N, do you have a boyfriend?" Hoisuke's voice pierces through your thoughts and as you blink down at him, you shake your head, "no, I'm single as a pringle."

"You are not married then."

"No I'm not."

"Great!" Hoisuke jumps up on his seat, eyes twinkling with mischief, "then do you want to marry daddy?"

"What?" You laugh out, "it doesn't work that way Hoisuke."

"But I like you miss Y/N," he replies with the seriousness of a child wanting his way, "You'd be a great mum. Can you be my mum?"

"Oh gosh kiddo," your hand reachea out to ruffle his hair, heart twisting at how easily he leans into your touch, "I'd love to be your mum, but--"

"Then marry my dad," Hoisuke's mumble is muffled against your side. He unconsciously snuggles up to you and you caress the top of his head down to his nape, "daddy likes you too. He really likes you. You make him happy. He laughs a lot when you're around, and he doesn't get sad like he usually does when Mama is here."

"But that would be unfair to your mum wouldn't it?" You say softly, "you can't have two mums. She'll be upset."

There's a slight pause where you can see the cogs turning in his brain, "yeah," he says eventually, "but I don't really like going to Mama's anyway--"

The sound of your doorbell jolts you both to attention. You give Hoisuke's head one more ruffle before getting up to unlock the door.

Only to come face to face with none other than Hoisuke's mother.

You blink. Once. Twice. Unconsciously taking a step back.

She's pretty. Prettier up close, with those feline cat eyes and that full mouth that renders any man crazy. Standing a few inches higher than you, there is no doubt as to why Iwaizumi had fallen for her charms in the first place. She looks like the kind of woman that would still be elegant even dressed in a mechanician's uniform.

"H-Hello," your eyes dart from hers to a blank spot on the wall opposite, "can I help?"

"Where's Hoisuke?" Her voice is smooth, yet hard enough to make you wince.

"I--" your mind races. Isn't Iwaizumi supposed to pick him up? And how the hell does she know where you live?

She seems to read your face as she says, "I saw you with my son leaving the school. You're his...teacher, aren't you? I was waiting to pick him up."

"I thought Iwaizumi-san--"

"I don't need a reason to see my son," she arches her brows at you in a way that makes you want to crawl under a carpet and hide.

"Mama?" Hoisuke's voice floats from behind you, a tentative waver of nervousness as you hear him pad up to the door.

"Does Iwaizumi-san know you're picking him up?" You hope your tone is diplomatic, but the way her body tenses proves you otherwise, "You can tell him Hoisuke's with his mother," she nods at her child, "now come on Hoisuke. Let's go home."

Maybe feeling the tension in the air, Hoisuke merely shrinks back, "but it's Daddy that picks me up."

"Yes well, Daddy's not here now is he?" She gestures aggressively towards him, "now come on."

"Maybe we should wait until Iwaizumi-san gets here," you try to smooth things over, "he's on his way--"

"Don't tell me what to do with my child," Mizune snaps and without warning, grabbing hold of Hoisuke's arm before pulling him out of the flat. He resists.

"Mama no, let's wait for Daddy--"

"Daddy isn't coming. Now stop being so difficult," she doesn't relent against the way her son twists and kicks at the ground while you stand there, mind blind with panic because you've never actually had to deal with such a situation before.

"Mama please!" Hoisuke cries out with a sob.

You want to move. You urge yourself to. But your feet won't budge. It's like you're rooted in place.

Hoisuke has started crying at this point and in an attempt to smoothen things out, you try again by saying, "I'm sure we can all calm down and talk this out. As a teacher, I cannot--"

"That's right," Mizune's feline pupils narrow down on you, making you flinch at the rage simmering through those dark orbs, "you're his teacher. And as a teacher, you should know how to keep your boundaries. You're not his mother and you never will be. So fucking stay out of my family's life."

The words burn as they etch themselves into memory and you can only watch, hand clutched to the door as Mizune drags her crying son away. His cries are loud enough that they bounce throughout the corridor and keeps resonating even when he's long gone, as you try to comb through the last fifteen minutes where everything has turned upside down.

Fucking stay out of my family's life.

Your brain reels. Your heart feels heavy. You don't know what to do, what to say.

And Mizune's words are as sharp as a knife.

Don't tell me what to do with my child.

A sob slowly catches the back of your throat, eyes slowly brimming with an onset of tears.

You're not his mother.

The truth hurts. You know that Hoisuke is not your child, know that all this time it's merely Iwaizumi and his son, and then you watching on the sidelines. But hearing the cold rejection thrust in your face hurts more than you'll admit.

You aren't quite sure how long you stand there gazing into the empty corridor as if if you will it hard enough, Hoisuke will come running back to you. It is only when a familiar alto reaches your ears that you snap back to attention:

"Y/N?"

Jerking at the sound and looking up to see none other than Iwaizumi, drenched and breathless, standing a few feet away from you, your breath hitches in warning.

He closes the distance between you, frowning upon noticing the tears at the corner or your eyes, "what's wrong? Where is Hoisuke--"

"I'm..." your eyes drop to the ground, "I'm sorry," your whimper is barely above a whisper and you feel him move closee, his hand gently grasping your arm.

"Y/N?" His voice is gentle, though ragged and breathy, "what happened?"

It's probably the gentlest he's ever been with you. Turning away to cup your mouth with your hand, your teeth clamp down onto your lower lip in hopes of keeping the emotion from spilling over.

"Mizune came," you murmur out, "she took Hoisuke home."

There's a sharp intake of breath on his part. A pause, "how did--"

"She followed us."

Iwaizumi lets out a sigh as he moves towards you and you stagger back to hide your tears, but it proves useless when his hand grasps your arm to pull your hand away.

Deep brown mocha meet yours. Your throat tightens.

"Sorry," you breathe out a forced chuckle but it's clear from Iwaizumi's face that he's spotted your tears, and that he just knows that there is something bothering you.

But he doesn't ask. Doesn't question your intent or your feelings.

Instead, he pulls you close, close enough you're stumbling into him, before his hand wounds around the back of your head and presses you against his shoulder.

It shocks you, the sudden intimacy of his touch. His citrus smell once again invades your space and you can't find it in yourself to keep on holding on before you break down.

Maybe it's because you had felt-- at this point in time -- that you were someone significant in Hoisuke and Iwaizumi's life that you're not crying into Iwaizumi's shoulder as if everything is going downhill in your life. But you're comforted by the casual way he holds you with his head turned away so that you can bury yourself in the crook of his collarbone.

"Sorry," you manage to mumble out after you've managed to calm down. He's moved you back into your flat and has sat you down onto your kitchen chair, having rummaged through your utensils to bring you a cup of water that you sip on gratefully, if only to act as a distraction from the way he's gazing at you.

Iwaizumi shakes his head silently, looks away and clears his throat, "I'm gonna call her. You good?"

You nod and after searching your face for a few more seconds, he slides out of his seat and walks away with the device already presses to his ear. Bowing your head and gulping down the rest of the water, you manage to block out his angry alto resonating through the compact space as you focus on regaining control of yourself. You rarely fall to pieces like that, rarely give in to the downward pull of your emotions because the nature of your job obliges you to.

"Y/N."

You jump involuntarily and look up to see the said man sporting a frown, "is Hoisuke okay?" You ask.

"He's fine," a sigh escapes his lips as he slides back into the chair as if there's a weight pressing down onto his shoulders, "I'll pick him up tomorrow after school."

You nod. Good, the last thing you need is for Hoisuke to be disrupted by problems that don't concern him.

When he speaks next though, his alto is hoarse and thick, "I'm sorry Y/N. You don't deserve to get in the middle of all this."

"It's okay."

His eyes pierce yours with burning hot intensity, causing your gaze to drop to your fists laying across the table, knuckles so tight they're turning white.

A bout of silence ensues, lest for the pounding in your heart while your thoughts take on a tumultous turn for the worse. What if Mizune is angry? What if she stops Hoisuke from coming to school altogether? What if she makes her child move just for the sake of keeping him away from his teacher who can't seem to keep her nose out of anyone's business? What if--

Warmth floods your hands so suddenly that it interrupts your train of thought. Head jerking up in surprise to see Iwaizumi's hands clasp yours, your blood suddenly pulses through your limbs upon feeling his thumb gently stroke over your knuckles.

Iwaizumi is not a man of words. That much you know, but this evening has been full of surprises for you both. So you force yourself to relax, almost enjoying the gentlest of his touches fluttering across your skin.

"How," your words are choked, "how angry is she?"

"That doesn't matter."

"But what if--"

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," he replies firmly, followed by a gentle squeeze, "whatever you have cooking in that head of yours, stop."

Nodding and sighing in defeat, you lapse into a more comfortable silence as the time dwindles on. It's different to have someone else occupying your flat, considering that you've gotten so used to living along after your horrible breakup. A good kind of different.

When you bid him goodbye that evening -- granted you shall wake up with dark circles and puffy eyes the next day -- he suprises you with another casual, one-armed hug which signifies so much more for the usually reserved man, Hoisuke's bag hanging loosely from the other. He holds you close, his grip strong and secure and making you wish you can melt in a puddle of warmth at his feet, while his cheek pillows atop your temple against the side of your head. You lean in, cozy and warm, while his heart beats underneath your ear like a gentle drum easing you of today's worries and you wish you have the willpower to keep yourself away, in vain.

He pulls away slightly, mutters a soft "night" before a ghost of a kiss imprints itself on your temple.

Your breath hitches but the moment is gone all too son. He's already swivelling around and making his way down the corridor, leaving you to stare after him with a wild, raging heart.

You know, without a doubt, that you're already a little too skin-deep.

----

Iwaizumi is furious. Filled to the brim with a rage that's threatening to bubble over his insides.

He'd gone round to fetch Hoisuke in the morning as promised, just managing to keep himself from knocking his ex-wife's double mahogany doors down only to be greeted by that stupid bastard who'd stolen his wife away.

Todoka had always roamed within the same circle of friends as Iwaizumi and Mixune, having met under the same dormitory roof and sharing common sports interests. So imagine how big of a slap it was to hear that he'd been the one stealing kisses and sharing soft subtle touches with his wife behind his back.

"I could've driven him if only you'd let me," Mizune had told him as they waited for Hoisuke to finish brushing his teeth. is ex-wife's familiar soprano made him tense. Her face was a cold mask of indifference that covered up her silent anger. She'd folded her arms, chin jutted out and lips pursed, "he's my son too, you know."

"Was he still your son when you went and fucked Todoka?"

She'd sighed. As if dealing with the tantrum of a child, "Why are you bringing this up again?"

"Because you never put him first. Not when he threw his tantrums, not when he cried for you. Not even when he was sick," Iwaizumi spat out, the words tasting bitter upon his tongue.

"I had issues Hajime, you know that--"

"Like what? Like we weren't good enough for you? Like I wasn't pulling myself apart while you were out for nights on end?" Iwaizumi would've continued with an onslaught of pent-up statements if his son hadn't spoken out:

"Daddy?"

"Hey bud," Iwaizumi's anger had deflated like a hot air balloon, "you ready to go?"

And so he packed his son up in the car, his ex-wife watching his every move, and just after he'd closed his vehicle door did Mizune mention something about you.

"Do you like her?"

He'd bristled, "none of your business."

"Hoisuke is my son," Mizune's eyes had hardened into steel, "I don't need anyone else filling up his head with stupid ideas, nor do I want him to get hurt--"

"Like you did?" The words were fire burning upon his tongue. His shoulders were squared as he faced her fully, "stop beating around the bush, Mizune. We both know you hate the fact that Hoisuke loves spending time with Y/N."

"That's not it, I--"

"Y/N has spent more time with Hoisuke in a week than you did in a month. She's wiped his tears more timesthat you've seen him cry," he swivels towards his car then, "are we done?"

"You're acting like a child."

"I'm not the one picking a fight because of some petty jealousy," Iwaizumi had snapped.

"I'm not jealous!" Mizune burst out, her patience finally wearing thin, "I'm trying to look out for him, for you! She's not right for you--"

"Don't. Talk about her like that,” Anger had flared at how dismissively she spoke of you, visible as his knuckles tightened and a vein throbbed in his forehead, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck out of my life."

He'd driven off without looking back, knowing full well he'd shocked her into silence and if he were to be honest with himself, that outburst had eased some of the knots in his stomach. Dealing with Hoisuke's anxiety after witnessing yet another argument though, that was something else.

"Daddy, I don't understand why you and Mama fight so much," Hoisuke finally finds his voice when they stop inside the school gtounds. His small chubby hand, fitting into Iwaizumi's large one, cling to him with more force than necessary as they make their way to his respective class.

"Your mama and I...have different opinions on things," Iwaizumi tries to explain, suddenly guilty that his son has to pick up all the broken pieces. Impulsively, he ruffles Hoisuke's locks, "don't worry."

And that's when his son stops in mid-walk, looks him dead in the eye, and tells him, "Mama doesn't like miss Y/N, does she?"

It's a different kind of slap, but he shouldn't have understimated the little five year old. Children know much more than they let on snd here's the proof of it.

Iwaizumi allows both his hands to clasp Hoisuke's shoulders and bends down until they are face to face, "hey," dark mocha meets lighter caramel tinged with a fear of a child desperate for a family that all his friends can take for granted, "that doesn't matter. Do you like miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke nods, eyes wet.

Iwaizumi's heart swells and he swears he doesn't ever want to see that expression on his son's face, not if he can help it.

"Then it doesn’t matter what your Mom tells you," he squeezes the child's shoulder for good measure, "no one can boss you around and tell you that you're not allowed to like who you like," he brushes a few hairs off Hoisuke's forehead, "not me, not even your mom. Got that?"

“Will we be able to invite miss Y/N again?” Hoisuke asks with a trembling bottom lip.

“If you want to.”

“Do you want to, daddy?”

That question takes him by surprise, the familiar guilt lurching through his stomach as he tries to comb through an excuse to hide his growing feelings.

Except, why does he have to hide in the first place?

It takes a moment, before Iwaizumi nods, “yeah,” he murmurs gently with the softest of smiles, “I want to.”

Hoisuke nods once more, which is shortly followed by lurching into Iwaizumi's arms as a sob echoes from his throat. His father holds him close, glad that the earlier tension from Hoisuke's has dissipated into relief for now.

What he doesn’t know though, is that you stand just a few feet away, body tucked into the corner of the wall and holding up your racing heart against your chest.

------

The more you spend more time with the Iwaizumis, the more your heart gets invested in the coaxing warmth that makes up their family. You try to dismiss what you've overheard back in the school corridor but it's an itch you can't quite erase now that you've been exposed to Iwaizumi's feelings, which does nothing to stop the way your heart skips a beat whenever his gaze lingers upon yours for too long.

And you've taken notice. Or you think you do. Of how he sounds more gentle whenever he talks to you, how whenever you play hands they drift towards each other for a few extra seconds that causes your skin to tingle with warmth. How it is so goddamn easy to fall into this familiar routine of playing families with Hoisuke around like a human sunshine.

But there's still one thing nagging you. Which is why you corner him once you have tucked Hoisuke into bed on Saturday night, seeking him out on the small terrace tucked beside his kitchen that overlooks the glowing city lights.

"Can I ask you something?"

His gaze flits to yours. He nods.

Swallowing back the sudden knot of anxiety in your throat, your question comes out more like a soft proposition rather than a demand fot answers.

"I know it's none of my business, but-- I overheard you and Hoisuke a few days ago in the school corridor," your words are rushed and quick as you fold your arms over your chest, "did you and Mizune have a fight...about me?"

Iwaizumi shifts in your peripheral to face you, but your eyes adamantly find purchase onto the cement ledge splattered with dirt. For a split second, you wonder whether it wouldn't have been better to keep your mouth shut.

"What did you hear?" He asks quietly.

With a slow breath, you tell him what you've heard, underlining that this whole encounter was an accident.

"And from the way she acted when she saw me...well, it's not hard to put two and two together," you finish off in a mumble, then quickly adding, "look I--I don't want to come in-between you and your family. I just don't want Hoisuke to get hurt."

Surprise flits through his features. He regards you for a long moment, long enough that you feel like squirming underneath his gaze.

Then, taking you by surprise, he chuckles softly and shifts his elbows onto the edge of the terrace, "No wonder he likes you."

You blink at him. It suddenly feels a little too warm.

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," you wonder since when have the formalities dropped from Miss Y/N to just Y/N and decide that you like the way your name rolls off his tongue, "Mizune gets jealous over stupid shit and if she can't see someone else making her son happy then that's not our problem."

Your teeth unconsciously find purchase onto your lower lip, which he notices. That doesn't stop him from reaching over to press his thumb against your lower lip, "don't."

You freeze at the touch. His thumb is warm against your mouth, calloused and sending a series of tingles down your spine.

He must realize the intimacy of his touch, for he drops his hand away and mutters, "he's...livelier. when you're around. Happier, even. I've never seen him like that with his Mama."

"What about you?"

You feel like slapping yourself. The audacity coming out of your mouth surprises you and you swear your cheeks burst into flames.

Iwaizumi looks at you almost at the same time your pupils focus on his, causing your breath to hitch.

Why the hell can't you just keep your mouth shut?

Iwaizumi's voice is merely a murmur when he speaks next, deep and laced with a roughness.

"What about me?"

Your brain seems to turn to mush, "do you like having me around?" You hope you don't sound too pathetic.

Your heart almost stops at his next set of words.

"I do."

And there's that smile, barely there but enough that your own lips stretch to mirror his action. Until you realize you are smiling at him like a fool and quickly look away like you've just been burnt.

Something shifts in the air between you, spurred on by the way your eyes keep searching each other's with a growing tension that makes your skin rattle. Iwaizumi's frown is present, yet not unpleasant and you're not quite sure who moves, just that he's suddenly a little closer. Close enough you get a whiff of the citrus smell you've come to recognize as his own.

"Miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke's voice suddenly snaps you out of your daze. Quickly whipping around to see the said boy rubbing his eyes, a hand unconscioudly scratching his tummy, your entire countenance softens as he blinks up at you sleepily.

"I can't sleep," he mumbles out with sleep still in his eyes, "can you come back to bed with me?"

"Yeah sure," you're already on your way over to him, scooping the child up in your arms. He takes this chance to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contently.

You turn back to his father, a dark silhouette against the bright landscape, "I'll be right back."

But Hoisuke surprises you by saying, "you too, Daddy."

Iwaizumi stills, "what?"

"Come to bed too, Daddy."

For one single moment, it's like time stops. You can't see Iwaizumi's face but a moment later he straightens and walks over, nodding at you when he's close enough. You don't realize your heart is besting like a hummingbird until you hear it throbbing through your chest as you try squeezing into Hoisuke's bed, you in the corner and his father barely hanging onto the edge, Hoisuke squished in-between.

It's like an instinct for the boy to latch onto your shirt. He turns to burrow himself into the curve you've made with your body, facing Iwaizumi who is half-sitting, half-lying down in an angle that surely isn't comfortable.

So you decide to point it out to him, patting the bed for good measure in hopes that he doesn't notice the warm flush of your neck.

"It's okay," your whisper tickles Hoisuke's hair, "it's only until he falls asleep."

He hesitates, before you see his head nod and he slides his body a little closer, chest curving into Hoisuke's back and close enough for you to get bathed in his warmth.

He smells good. He looks good. God. Why does he look so damn good?

Stop! You squeeze your eyes shut aa if that might help your racing thoughts, and you are so caught up in your own head that you almost miss the gentle brush of Iwaizumi's fingers against your shoulder.

You tense up right before realizing that his action is intentional. Your shoulders slowly relax, a shaky exhale escaping your lips as he takes the chance to linger over your arm a little longer, before falling away onto the mattress.

You fall asleep that night listening to not just Hoisuke's, but Iwaizumi's heartbeat.

----

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png, @bakugouswh0r3, @yatoatyourservice, @ayocee, @marvel-ing-at-it-all, @astrolcve, @lilith412426, @elianetsantana, @schleepyflocci, @oohlalie , @kaashikoi , @tendo-sxtori , @iwaroses , @its-the-aerieljeane , @lalalemon101 , @lanaxians-2 , @dora-the-grownup , @sharin-gone , @nekomavsnohebi , @crayonwriting , @imafan , @random-fandom-girl-24 , @bucinhajime , @izumikunmy , @iwaoioioi , @evesmores , @meri-soni-meri-tamanna , @paintedstarres , @okadaxo , @michaki , @archiepudding , @ysatrap , @cringe-freak , @thatprettybunny

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

Text

jealousy | l. hyunjae

🌊 pairing: bf! hyunjae x fem! reader 🌊 wc: 1.9k 🌊 synopsis: at the beach, your mood suddenly swings, and your boyfriend is too oblivious to understand why you're feeling that way. 🌊 genre: angsty fluff, comfort, very cliché, fluffy end 🌊 tw: insecurities, self body-shaming, a petty fight at the beginning 🌊 a/n: yeah I went to the pool the other day and it was pretty much this, except that I didn't have a hyunjae by my side lol... and Spotify played this olivia rodrigo's song a moment after.. but happy birthday to Hyunjae in advance!!! 🥰 🌊 requested: no!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“What kind of fuckery is that?” you ask yourself when you take a look around you at the beach while Hyunjae was settling your stuff down in the sand, trying not to get too much sand on the cooler. He removed his t-shirt to be more comfortable, girls built like models ogled at your boyfriend’s back and abs, giggling together and biting their lips as they saw his muscles move around.

The beach was filled with slim, fit people, either working out or getting that tan for Instagram. The girls were so pretty and looked like models that could sign with Marc Jacobs, which had the ability to make you even more insecure than you already were. A feeling of uneasiness settled inside your body, especially your heart, who felt heavy with insecurity when you took another great look at the people hanging out around you.

“Here darling, take a seat,” he said as he placed down a wide tablecloth on the sand with your towel on it, thanking him with a brief smile before guiding him to plant the parasol to let you rest in the shade together.

His shoulders and biceps glistened with sweat as he stopped digging to hammer the parasol pole in the sand, rubbing the grains off his fingers to finally sit down next to you. His smile subsided when he noticed you staring into space, gaze on the water, a weary look painted on your face.

“Y/N, is there something wrong? Don’t you want to go in the water?” he quizzed you, not really understanding your mood swing. You were so excited when he offered to go to the beach, and now, you looked sad, almost disappointed to be there.

“You can go ahead, I’ll join you later,” you said as you rested on your back, covering your face with your straw hat.

Hyunjae observed you laying down, frowning as you didn’t even remove your beach dress. Something felt odd, weird. You loved being there and having fun in the water. What was going on?

He looked around to see what could have upset you this much, but he couldn’t find anything. People, friends and couples were laughing and enjoying the sun, just like he had expected you to do with him.

You open your eyes and clench your jaw when Hyunjae lifted your hat off your face, a veil of concern forming in his eyes. Shifting his weight on one hand, the other caressed your upper thigh, the warmness of his palm contrasting with your shivering skin.

“Did I do something that made you mad?” he dared to ask another question, trying to get a glimpse of your thoughts to try to understand what was actually going on. “No you didn’t. I just don’t want to go in the water now, the wind is making me cold,” you lied and Hyunjae sighed, understanding that you wouldn’t share what was on your mind for now.

He kissed your cheek anyway, mouth lingering on your skin a bit longer than usual and stood up, removing his cap and sunglasses while looking at the people around you with a frown. You watch him calmly walk to the water, silently watching the waves crash against his feet, calves and knees the further he walked in the ocean, his glistening back muscles moving as he raised his arms to dive underwater.

You sighed and rolled on your stomach, your back facing the shore as you folded your arms, using the back of your palm as a cheek rest, closing your eyes in the process. A single tear rolled down your cheek, captured by the edge of your sunglasses, followed by many more, letting the insecurities invade your mind. You didn’t even want to look at all the slim, IG models look alike smirking and eyeing your boyfriend up and down as he walked by. You already felt so uneasy to be here, you didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by looking at what you’ve always dreamt to look like being attracted to your partner.

But Hyunjae didn’t even notice those girls. His frown deepened even more when he only saw the back of your body, something quite usual coming from you. You absolutely adored the beach and the ocean, remembering one of your first dates where you told him that the beach - especially at sunset - was your solace, and now you were facing away from this source of comfort. Plus, there were occasions where you came here without really wanting to go in the water, just to enjoy the warmth and the sight of the ocean, happily waving at your boyfriend that was having fun in the water while you stayed in your seat.

He didn’t even notice them looking at him, because his eyes and mind were focused on you and you only, trying to find what had caused you to become this weary and down all of a sudden. He didn’t feel the same when you weren’t looking at him, when you shut yourself out and let your brain overthink on its own, refusing his help. A pinch of discomfort tightened his heart, regretting that he wasn’t as good at reading people as much as he wished to.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours,” he mumbled under his breath as he got out of the water, still not noticing that the source of your uneasiness were the ones staring at him, a few metres away from him as he walked back to you.

Droplets of salty water landed on your cheek and forearm as Hyunjae bent down to kiss your temple, forcing a tired smile on your face to try and not let anything show on your face.

“Is the water good?” you mindlessly asked as Hyunjae rested on his stomach, just like you, pushing his front pieces of hair back before putting his cap on.

“It’s a bit fresh at first, but once you’re in it, it’s good. You’d love it,” his voice trailed at the end of his sentence, eyes trying to probe your soul and bribe you to join him in the water.

“That’s great,” you nodded and sniffled, handing a bottle of water from the cooler to your boyfriend. He uncapped it but stopped, shifting on his side, resting his weight on his elbow.

“Babe, please, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting strangely since we got here, what’s going on?” he asked, voice ringing with frustration. You briefly looked at him before looking at the ocean, letting out a big sigh.

“Can’t you see anything, Jaehyun? Can’t you see that everyone around me, including you, looks like they just walked out of a Dior photoshoot by how slim and fit and pretty they look? That you have all the girls around us that ogle at you like you’re single? Yes I’m mad, yes I’m insecure, but I have my reasons, don’t you think?” you spat out your insecurities with teary eyes to your boyfriend’s face, who looked at you like he just saw a ghost.

That, was the last thing he had imagined. He never thought that you would get so insecure about this because you looked like the most beautiful girl in his eyes. He was about to speak up, but he placed himself in your shoes for a quick second, insecurities, as well as anger, started boiling in his veins as he imagined men looking at you like a fresh piece of meat.

You started scratching the skin around your thumb, a habit that you picked up when you were stressed and nervous and tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to ignore some girls still looking at and trying to flirt with your man. You wrapped your arms around your knees and pressed your chin on top of it, only to have Hyunjae positioning behind you to have you between his legs, wrapping his arms around your middle to press you against him.

He grabbed your hand to stop you from scratching it and he pressed his mouth against your shoulder, remaining silent as he tried to search for his words.

“No. I didn’t see any of those people, because I don’t care about how they look. I don’t care if the girls look like skinny models or if you find their faces pretty. Do you find the men here handsome ?”

“No,” you said in a wobbly voice, eyes glued to the ocean.

“Why?”

“Because I love you and I only have eyes for you,” you said in a shaky voice and Hyunjae remained in silence for a few seconds, knowing that you were smart enough to get what he was implying.

“So I don’t look at girls because?”

“Because you love me,” you said, voice wavering as tears rolled down your cheeks, Hyunjae holding you close to his chest, trailing salty kisses from your neck up to your cheek.

“Of course I love you, and with all my heart. I wouldn’t be with you if that weren’t the case.”

He grabbed your chin and you shifted to the side, sitting perpendicularly to him. His hands cupped your cheeks to make you look at him and he offered you a gentle smile, his thumbs wiping the paths the tears left on your skin when they rolled down your cheeks.

“I only see you, Y/N. You’re much more than looks, and you can’t say that you are horrible next to them. You are just yourself, someone more honest, prettier and funnier than all those girls around us. They don’t interest me at all, I only care about you. It’s not my problem if they think I’m handsome. As long as you’re in love with me, I'm at my happiest,” he caressed your cheek with tenderness, holding a huge amount of love for you in his eyes. You nodded, trying to make his words imprint in your brain and ignore everything and everyone that was surrounding you, but it was far from being easy.

You delicately touched his cheek and he kissed your inner palm while holding eye contact, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

“Do you want to go in the water? Yes?” his eyes sparkled with joy as you nodded with a smile, your boyfriend springing to his feet and removed his cap, getting all excited when he watched you remove your beach dress.

“Stop staring at me like that Jae, we’re in public,” you giggled as you threw your dress at him, who hummed your perfume on the fabric before dropping it on your towel.

“I won’t. I want to let everyone know that I only have eyes for you,” he said as he grabbed your hand and started running towards the water, entering it with a big splash and laughter.

You dove underwater to get used to the salty water, reappearing at the surface a few seconds later, Hyunjae smiling at you. He wrapped your legs around his waist and held you close, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss.

“Chill, chill,” you laughed as you pulled away breathless, Hyunjae’s hands caressing your body.

“No, no, I wanna show them that they don’t have a single chance against you. And that you’re taken,” he grunted the last part of his sentence, making you giggle and hugging him close.

“Thank you, Jae,” you mumbled and your boyfriend stares at you with a reassuring smile, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I love you Y/N,” you held eye contact again and Hyunjae was happy to see your smile, kissing your lips the following second.

Gosh, you were so in love with each other.

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remedialpotions · 3 years

Text

Happily Impervious

It’s still May 10 in my part of the world, so here’s my humble offering to @clarensjoy ‘s Hinny Ficfest! Many thanks to Clare for arranging all of this and encouraging me to write. This fic is for prompt #52 - “People are talking about us.”

***

Ginny has just closed herself inside the stall when the door to the bathroom creaks open again, then slams shut with a thud.

“I just can’t understand what he even sees in her,” comes a loud, haughty voice that echoes off the stone walls. “She’s not even that pretty, really.”

“A lot of boys think she’s fit,” comes a second, more timid voice - one that sounds a bit nervous to disagree with the first. “I heard Jimmy Peakes and Jack Sloper saying how-“

“They’re just third years,” interrupts the first voice with irritation, “they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Ginny’s stomach flips, because she knows this voice. She’s heard it carrying easily over the din of the Great Hall and disrupting the peaceful calm of the Gryffindor dormitories at night. It’s Romilda Vane - attempted poisoner of Ginny’s brand-new boyfriend and actual poisoner of Ginny’s brother - and just the thought of being near her makes her blood boil.

So she’s not sure why she does it. She should just wee and get the hell out of there. But instead, she climbs silently up on the closed toilet seat so that her feet won’t be seen through the gap between the stall door and the floor. Crouching low, barely breathing lest she give herself away, she listens.

“And anyway,” Romilda goes on as a knob turns and water gushes into the sink, “I’d rather die than have all that red hair.”

Oh. It doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, being the subject of Romilda’s vitriol, but Ginny expected something a bit more original than insults about her hair.

“Your hair is way prettier,” the second girl hurries to add, desperation from approval dripping from her words. “I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

“I hope so,” says Romilda. There is a pause as the water shuts off, and Ginny’s sure they can hear her heart pounding in her chest. “That, or she’ll end up chucking him. She goes through boys pretty quickly, doesn’t she?”

Ginny knows she should probably want to leap out of the stall and tackle Romilda to the ground, but instead she just rolls her eyes. If finally being with Harry means she’s had too many boyfriends - whatever that means - then so be it.

“Maybe when she chucks him for someone else, you can make your move,” adds the second girl, who Ginny now suspects is Romilda’s eternal shadow, Vicky Frobisher. “You could try the love potion again-“

“So I can spend my Saturdays cleaning the owlery with a toothbrush again?” interjects Romilda with such disdain that Ginny can clearly picture the sneer on her face. “It’s not worth it. But you know...” Her voice has dropped low, conspiratorial. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny’s slipped him a love potion of her own.”

Vicky gasps, far too dramatically than the situation warrants, and Ginny’s body shakes with silent laughter. “You really think so?”

“It would explain everything,” says Romilda. “Why else do you think they’re suddenly snogging all over the place?”

At this, Ginny bristles. Sure, there was that first kiss in the common room, and there have been a few corridor greetings that perhaps got out of hand, but for Merlin’s sake, it’s not like they’re Ron and Lavender.

“Plus, she’s got easy access,” adds Romilda. “Her brothers are the ones sending out the love potions, aren’t they? I bet she’s got an unlimited supply.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” replies Vicky, sounding awestruck. “If only you could prove it, then she’d get detention too-“

Romilda laughs - a harsh, mean cackle. “I’d pay good money to see her sweeping up owl droppings.”

It’s not exactly comfortable, perching atop a closed toilet seat, and this foray into espionage is eating into Ginny’s lunch hour. As she peers through the narrow gap between the stall door and the wall, she sees that Romilda and Vicky are quite caught up in applying shiny pink gloss to their lips.

She simply doesn’t have time for this. It’s taking too much time away from Harry, and they’ve got so little time together anyway. And so - even though she still has to wee - she climbs down off the seat, flushes the toilet, and unlocks the door.

The girls are frozen with shock as Ginny strides over to the sink right next to Romilda and turns the tap on full blast.

“Oh, hi there,” Ginny chirps, beaming at Romilda’s stunned reflection in the mirror. “Love that lip gloss on you. It’s very - erm-“ Clearing her throat, she runs a bar of soap over her palms. “Sparkly. Boys like that, do they?”

As she lathers her hands with soap - and she really scrubs, too, just to drag out the moment - a deliciously heavy silence descends upon them. Ginny goes about her business as though nothing’s out of the ordinary, rinsing the suds from her hands and drying them off, but inwardly she delights at the panicked glances between Romilda and Vicky.

“Well, I’d better be off,” says Ginny brightly, tossing her hair over one shoulder and making for the door. “Those love potions aren’t going to brew themselves, are they?”

When she gets to the Great Hall, she finds Harry seated alone at the Gryffindor table. It’s still surreal that she can do the things she does - place a hand on his shoulder as she approaches, lean in for a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates, seat herself right next to him on the bench - and yet somehow it’s natural too, easy, like they should have been doing this for months now already.

“Sorry I took so long,” says Ginny as she pours herself a glass of pumpkin juice. “I got held up a bit. Where’re these two?” She gestures across the table to the empty seats usually occupied by Ron and Hermione.

“The library, apparently,” replies Harry.

“Ron’s spending his lunch break in the library?”

“More like spending it wherever Hermione wants him to.”

“Right,” Ginny chuckles.

Harry’s hand finds her thigh under the table, the warmth of his fingertips burning through the fabric of her robes. “Did something happen?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you got held up, is everything all right?”

“Oh, that.” Ginny takes a sip of pumpkin juice to stall for time. “It’s nothing really, just - people are talking about us. And I happened to... overhear.”

She quickly summarizes the highlights of Romilda and Vicky’s conversation, and by the end, Harry’s shaking his head in disbelief... but he’s also on the verge of laughter.

And it is so good to see him laugh. It’s so good to see this lightness come over him, to see him relieved of the life he has to live. In the face of a truly happy Harry Potter, what’s a bit of gossip, really?

“I’m so sorry,” he says, shifting in his seat to face her as her hand covers his. “I’m sorry people talk about us, that they say those things about you-“

“I’m not bothered,” she tells him plainly, and she’s really not. It’s annoying, but it’s so trivial that it’s not worth the space in her brain. “Not if you’re not.”

His face draws closer to hers, so close that their foreheads nearly touch. “I’m not either.”

Their lips meet - and maybe, Ginny thinks, maybe she will go snogging him all over the place, because if that’s the reputation she’s got then she may as well embrace it - until her recollection of how all this came about triggers something in her brain.

“I’ll be right back,” she says as she clambers off the bench.

Harry puzzles up at her. “You just got here.”

“Weren’t you listening? I never actually got to wee, and now I really have to-“

And she hurries toward the door with the sound of Harry’s laughter flooding her ears.

#hinny ficfest #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny fanfic #HBP missing moment

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing iv.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 105

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a glimpse into the past

Jungkook’s been to a total of two graduations his entire life—one was his middle school’s graduation that seemed more like a farewell party and his older brother’s college one. Now, he can say that he’s attended three. But he’s never felt like this—never felt dread to say a temporary goodbye to a face he’s been so accustomed to seeing.

Maybe that’s why he’s in such a sour mood as his peers hugged their seniors' goodbyes, smiles on their face while they engaged in chatter about the future. Jungkook’s always been hard on parting and today is no different. Especially with the constant reminders at every corner of the hallways, streams of red and blue painting the ceilings with a big fat ‘happy graduation to the seniors!’ Mocking him on his journey to his classes.

He almost wants to slap some sense into himself. Because why was he terrified for the beginning of a new chapter that wasn’t his story to tell? Why was he dreading the moment that the seniors collected their diplomas and walked off the stage; and out of his life?

But he doesn’t do that; because the fear is as addictive as the excitement he feels when he thinks of you. A conflicting and tortuous juxtaposition of the beautiful day for a valedictorian and her younger friend.

“Jungkook!” A voice calls, and when he turns he sees Taehyung barrelling towards him with two people trailing closely behind.

When Taehyung plummets into Jungkook’s chest with an oof, but all Jungkook can focus on; despite the ache in his chest, is you.

You’re so pretty. But that’s nothing new for Jungkook. However, you were smiling, soft and sweet like the person who stayed up during her finals to tutor Jungkook on math concepts and the same girl who supported him through his football trials in junior year.

But you were grown, and the robe was the testimony of your age and maturity—the level of intelligence that you possess only grew with time and now you were walking towards him with a sense of quiet assuredness that he’s always admired you for.

Jungkook’s sure he’s gaping but he’s never been able to control himself around you.

“Can you stop gawking at her already?” Taehyung complains, twisting the skin between Jungkook’s armpit in retaliation.

Jungkook burns but scowls at the older boy who simply snickers in response.

“I’m so glad you’re graduating.” Jungkook snaps.

Taehyung snorts, “If I go she goes.”

Jungkook purses his lips as he readies himself for another retort, but you arrive and the first thing he notices is how gentle you smell. His favourite scent in principle, a whiff of laundry detergent accompanied with the light floral perfume he remembers his mother gifting you for your birthday.

“You’re gonna miss us, aren’t you?” Is the first thing Jimin says when he greets the younger boy with a ruffle to his head.

Jungkook glowers in embarrassment as he tries to fight him off, and despite his shorter stature in height—Jimin was in fact, quite strong.

Regardless of his flustered state, you smile at him warmly and perhaps Jungkook is biased when it comes to you because he’s sure you’ve always smiled the same, but every tilt of your lips evoke an array of different feelings in Jungkook’s chest.

“The two of you are like dumb and dumber so no—not really. God knows he’s finally granted my wish for emancipation.” Jungkook grumbles.

Taehyung feigns offence with a hand to his chest, leaning his head against Jungkook’s shoulders while he rolls his eyes.

Then he remembers you, the girl who just smiles as the world will always do her good.

“But I’ll miss Noona, though.” He says, and he hopes the shakiness of his voice isn’t obvious. “She’s the only one that doesn’t tease me.”

You grin up at Jungkook, giggling when Jimin and Taehyung gape at the younger boy’s audacity.

“Yah. You call her Noona and not us Hyung?!” Taehyung screeches were loud enough for the group of you to wince at his loudness.

“Don’t forget that you would have never have met her if it weren’t for us, you brat.” Jimin reminds, though not maliciously.

Jungkook does thank the stars for them introducing him to you. Because he doubts otherwise you’d ever interact with him. You were always in your own bubble, tucked away in a safe space filled with your own sense of solace and comfort. And Jungkook admired that.

He liked being alone, but he never wanted to be lonely. You were a breath of fresh air when you taught him the lines between loneliness and being physically alone; and how you learnt to never conflate the two. You were independent and bright, but warm and welcoming—and Jungkook remembers that these feelings weren’t just a floor away anymore.

“Ignore them, Kook.” You sigh. “Gonna miss you too.”

Jungkook feels himself melt because you say it so sweetly and sincerely.

Taehyung and Jimin ruin his love-blurred lenses by gagging at your blatant display of affection towards the younger boy.

“The two of you are so gross.” Jimin groans, earning a nod from his other half.

You roll your eyes when all Jungkook does is flush at the insinuation.

“Unlike the two of you, we make the better and more rational pair.” You chastise. “Don’t we, Kook?”

And the nickname he’s grown to love though he has a love-hate relationship with it slips off your tongue and he finds himself agreeing with you.

“These two idiots are a quarter of a brain-cell combined on a good day,” Jungkook mutters.

You burst out into laughter, rubbing a calming hand onto his shoulder and he feels the dread come in. Because this was no longer something he could reach out to when you went to college.

“Whatever.” Jimin scoffs.

Then the PA system sounds, and the principal calls for the graduates to gather at the hall. And it represents all of Jungkook’s worries in an announcement and he’s not ready to let you go yet.

“That’s our call.” You declare, eyes darting to the other seniors who pull apart from their juniors to rush to the hall.

Jungkook’s eyes widen one last time before Jimin and Taehyung both wrap their arms around Jungkook tightly, murmuring a much more sincere and grateful remark than their previous chides. And he feels slightly bad that he can’t respond because his brain is far more focused on your lone figure, who eyes him with sad yet gentle eyes.

“You’ll come to our role call, right?” Jimin asks.

Jungkook gulps because all he can focus on is your face.

“Y-yeah. Course’.” He mumbles. He feels the need to say something—do something before people crowd you after it’s over. Jungkook would never stand a chance.

He seems rooted in his feet, Jimin and Taehyung already trailing off with their arms around each other and words of their future in the air. You smile at Jungkook—and it’s the same—but his hands reach out before he can think twice.

Jungkook grabs your wrist before you can leave, gulping to himself when you stare at him with wide eyes.

“You okay?” You ask softly.

No, he’s not, because his heart is beating so fast and he doesn’t want this day to come to an end.

“I-I’m okay.” He chokes, “I just—don’t you have a parting gift for me?” Jungkook blurts before he can rationalise what the fuck did he even mean.

But Jungkook just stares at you like a deer caught in the headlights while you tilt your head at him endearingly. He hopes that his pulse doesn’t emanate from his grasp, but your wrist is small, and it feels just right in his palm.

Your lips are twitching as a grin threatens itself on your expression, and he sees the mischief in your eyes that come out every once in a while.

“Aren’t you supposed to be giving me a gift, Jeon?” You tease, and Jungkook is so soft.

He snorts, a little glad that you didn’t point out his sudden grip on your wrist.

“But you’re leaving me.” He pouts.

You roll your eyes and take a step closer to him until you’re directly in front of him. And he sees your features up close and God—did he say you were pretty?—well because you’re even prettier up close and he loses all sense of thought when you’re smiling up at him with bright eyes.

“I’m always a call away.” You say softly, gently tugging at his hand; and it’s crazy to think that you were the same older girl that was usually timid reaching out to him in a way that was shy but so you.

Even with the chattering of other students, Jungkook only hears your subdued voice.

“It’s not the same.” Jungkook sighs, and he’s slightly aware that he was whining. But you don’t seem to be bothered.

“You’re probably going to forget about me.” You scoff and it’s light, but he can see the slight furrow of your brows. “You’re Jeon Jungkook. You’ll do great.” You add softly.

Jungkook purses his lips and wants to tell you that it wasn’t possible. You took up space in his life, both in school (well, not anymore) and in his mind. You and your wonderful mind.

“Says the valedictorian.” Jungkook huffs.

You pout, “You know that isn’t long-term. What if I just peak in high school and … you know …” You sigh, shaking your head, “I’m not outgoing like Jimin or a social butterfly like Taehyung. Neither am I as friendly and likeable like you are, Jungkook. I’m just … boring.”

Jungkook freezes because while he knew you were on the shier side; the louder than life tendencies you had were small but abundant. You didn’t need to speak louder than anyone in a room to get your points across, you were soft and empathetic and led people in organisations to see the good in the work they did.

Your genuine nature drew people in, even though you’d flush under attention and praise—and if Jungkook could—he’d scream it out to the world. But you were in front of him, and he figured that was enough.

“Don’t say that.” Jungkook snaps and his tone causes you to flinch as you stare at him with wide eyes, “Don’t … put yourself down like that. You’re great, _____. You’re intelligent and kind. Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re boring. There are situations in this world that need people like you. There are people that find comfort in a quiet soul because you’re introspective and thoughtful. People like …”

Jungkook exhales when you stare at him so earnestly, and his ears turn red. “People like me. We need people like you in our lives.”

Your mouth falls open as you blatantly stare at Jungkook with wide eyes; he’s on the border of being absolutely mortified and running away so he wouldn’t be the subject of your obvious ogling.

But then a soft smile makes its way onto your face, and you’re tugging Jungkook by the hand and into a warm hug.

Despite him being younger than you, he’s always been taller and bigger than you were. And it was a sense of security he felt in your presence rather than your physical entity that would never be replaced with anything else.

“You really grew up, huh?” You say, a giggle in your chest.

Jungkook rolls his eyes but accepts the way you rest your head on his chest. He’s never had you this close before, and he hates that it’s on the day he needs to say goodbye.

“I’ve always been this way.” Jungkook answers. He also thinks: I’ve always been here. For you.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You say softly, pulling away even though Jungkook wants to keep you close.

“Anytime.” He smiles widely at you, and a classmate of yours calls your name as you turn to give them a nod of acknowledgement before you’re turning back to Jungkook with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Here’s your gift.” You inform him.

“I was kidding—”

And before you can respond, you’re placing both hands on his shoulder and on your tippy-toes to deliver a kiss to his cheek.

Jungkook is stunned and he isn’t able to process it fast enough. But you’re already offering him an equally flustered smile with the tip of your ears turning red before you’re waving shyly and tittering off to the hall.

Jungkook blinks, and a hand reaches to touch his cheek.

He looks up, and groans—because how the hell was he going to survive high school now?

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bitchassbucky · 3 years

Text

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader fluff

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chilly-me-softly · 3 years

Text

Fake Proposal • John Stones

I saw a video on instagram and got the idea but as usual I got carried away, writing like a 4k long piece so read it at your own risk.

"Ugh" John sighs letting himself down on the couch resting his head on your lap, one of your hands immediately going into his hair as you smile.

"Your mother again?"

"My mum again" he sighs before hiding his face in his hands and holding back a moan in his throat, "She's been breathing down my neck with the whole marriage thing. Please help me"

"How? It's not like you can pretend to have a girlfriend and propose" you state slightly but his eyes snap open staring at you.

"No" you thunder, "No John. Get that look off your face. No" you shake your head covering his eyes as he squirms managing to lock your hands between his.

"Please, please (Y/N) help me" he pleads and you're the one who has to try not to meet his gaze so you don't give in to that madness.

"They'd never believe us John, everyone knows we're friends"

"That's exactly why it might work (Y/N)!" he sits up abruptly, "if I do it with a random person it would be suspicious" his gaze is lost somewhere, his eyes move as if he's picturing everything and you can almost see the wheels of his brain in motion.

"And then how are you going to do that? Your mother wants a wedding, she won't be satisfied"

"I'll buy some time, she'll be less on my back at least for a while and then I'll think about it" he looks at you expectantly, he seems really determined even though he would never have thought such a thing until just now.

"Please (Y/N). I don't like fooling my mother like this either but if I hear again how I'm getting older and need to start a family I swear I won't answer for me anymore"

"Fine" you sigh closing your eyes, missing his surprised expression and then his big smile before he literally throws himself at you.

"John! John John John" you giggle trying to get him off you, "don't get into something bigger than you"

"I won't, don't worry"

Don't worry. Sure. He makes it easy.

John seemed to take it all lightly, just happy to get his mother and her demands off his back for a while. He'd booked a cabin in the mountains for a couple of days ready to spring into action as soon as possible, counting down the days just like kids waiting for Christmas Day to open their presents.

You must have been crazy to have agreed to help him with something like this, you kept repeating it by packing your suitcase or letting people know you wouldn't be home or waiting for him to pick you up. And then you had decided that if nothing you would enjoy that couple of days' holiday at his expense.

You look around to see if you've got everything before you leave, when John honks. He gets out of the car to help you put your bag in the boot as you close the front door, but it's only when you're both getting into the car and you've fastened your seatbelt that he leans in to leave a kiss on your cheek.

"What's all this sweetness Stonesy, are you afraid I'm going to say no?!" you tease him as he starts the car, shaking his head.

You take over the radio, spending the ride humming songs and complaining about not finding the right one and asking John if you're there.

"(Y/N) I swear, you're a pain in the ass" he sighs before turning right heading into a driveway.

"If you had told me where we were going I would have checked it out myself" you retort looking around as a few houses finally start to appear under your gaze.

"You really need to learn how to chill out" he sighs, "And anyway, we're here"

"I'm totally calm" you state getting out of the car slamming the door on purpose earning you a warning look. Men and their cars.

And you leave him to pick up the bags you brought while your eyes don't know what to look at first. The swing next to the door strikes you immediately, you've always wanted one but never had the space so you immediately rush onto it climbing the stairs waiting for your friend with a huge smile on your face.

"Come on in, let’s go pick out your room"

"I get to choose?" you ask rhetorically following him, being captivated at first glance by what's in front of you. The place is similar to all the ones you see in typical Christmas movies, wood seems to be the main material of the whole construction and the fire in the fireplace is already lit giving the room a pleasant warmth.

"Sure. But only if you're quick" one look and you're already running down the stairs trying to pull him by the shirt and not fall at the same time.

"Mine!" you flop down on the bed panting deciding to go straight for the farthest room in the dark, "go get my suitcase now"

"We're not engaged yet, you can't boss me around like that" he argues leaning against the doorframe sneering but you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

"What if the other room is nicer?" he asks returning and placing your bag at the foot of the bed, you don't hint at moving from your comfortable spot.

"I like this one" you murmur clutching a pillow to your chest.

"Yeah but what if the other one's prettier?!" his tone blatantly mocking as you roll your eyes giving in to curiosity, complaining loudly as you get up and make your way to the other room.

You open the door thinking you're going to find who knows what, but you find that it's a copy of the room you just left. And his bags are already there so he knew that, that bastard.

"But they're identical" you murmur confused, looking around for a sign of diversity but not finding it. "John! They're the same!" you complain turning to him and hitting him with an open palm on the arm receiving only laughter from him.

"Stop teasing me"

"Sorry sorry. I couldn't help myself"

"Keep laughing, I'll have fun later John Stones" you try to scare him but the smile on his face that doesn't hint at disappearing tells you that you failed in your intent, making you roll your eyes.

The first of the two nights you spend there goes by without a problem, well at least after you get familiar with the place and calm your brain because not all the noises you heard were due to thieves. And the next morning you and John have breakfast still sleepy before he proposes you to take a tour around there, the day before you had gone to the city to fill the fridge and you had stayed there and it didn't seem right to spend days away from the city without really spending days away from the city.

After getting ready, you take a path not far from the house and following the various signs along the way, you find yourself in a place that is stunning to say the least. You find yourself on a bridge built over a river, on one side of which there is a small waterfall, creating a unique and relaxing atmosphere.

"You don't want to do this now do you?"

"Ssh you have to look natural" he leaves a light kiss on your cheek before throwing a sideways glance and you call on all your strength not to follow his gaze, pretty sure you'd run into some guy intent on filming the moment.

"Now I'm going to pretend to tell you something cheesy so pretend to get emotional" he starts gesturing and you can't hold back the giggle that escapes your lips as he drops to his knees.

"(Y/N)" he gives you a knowing look and you cover your mouth with your hand trying to hide that smile, from a distance it will look like you're really excited instead.

"Okay so... I need to spend some time like this. It's uncomfortable and um blah blah blah will you marry me?" John starts ranting taking a small box from his jacket pocket.

"You didn't really buy a ring" you mutter shocked when he opens the small box, the surprise completely true at that moment at seeing that item.

"Are you going to hurry up and say yes? My knee is crying out for mercy" he presses you gritting his teeth as you then quickly nod and he gets back to his feet holding you close to him.

"You could have at least prepared a speech" you murmur in his ear tugging at his hair slightly as he laughs, pulling away to put the ring on your finger. His hands actually shaking as he does so and then he draws you to him unexpectedly, connecting your lips with his.

"I knew I'd find you here" you smile turning your head towards John, him handing you a cup of hot chocolate sitting next to you on the swing while you adjust the large blanket over your shoulders even around his as you can.

"What does your mum say?" you sigh blowing on that steaming drink looking ahead of you.

"See for yourself" he unlocks his phone quickly opening the conversation with his mother.

'Mum I did it' he had texted sending a picture of him kneeling in front of you and you hugging then.

'Johnny! Omg yes!!!!' 'Wait... is that (Y/N)?' 'I knew it' is mum's frantic reply making you giggle as he pulls back his phone not letting you see anything else.

"I'm glad she likes me" you giggle taking a sip of chocolate.

"She's always liked you" he retorts and silence falls between you two for a moment before he sighs.

"(Y/N) if you're upset about that kiss, I'm sorry"

"It's alright John, it was an act" you reach out to set the mug down, "after all which proposal is believable without a kiss" you joke elbowing him in the side as he sighs passing his arm around your shoulders pulling you to him. Both of you not so sure about it.

"I believe this is yours" you murmur taking off the ring and handing it to him, for some reason you didn't manage to give it back to him either the night before or over the course of that day and now that he's about to leave after driving you home it's your chance. It's now or never. But he is quick to shake his head and tighten that object in your hand. "No, keep it... in case my mother comes to visit"

"Don't" you point your finger at him making the most threatening face you have triggering his laughter. "I can't keep my mother at bay"

"John"

"(Y/N) listen, it's just a scenario. It's not going to happen"

"You can't be sure of that"

And in fact a few days later, when you had finally decided to go out grocery shopping, you opened the door and found the woman in front of you. The surprise had been such that you stood open-mouthed in front of her for a few moments before you shook yourself and made her come in.

"Were you going out dear?" she asks you going to sit on the sofa casually as if she was coming to your house every day.

"Just a bit of groceries, I can go later" you had dismissed it removing your jacket and sending a panicked message quickly 'I'm going to kill you!!!'

"Good" the woman looks around before congratulating you on the house, to which you reply embarrassed.

"Oh don't be embarrassed (Y/N), we're going to be a family soon after all" she states and you clear your throat, "Can I get you anything, some water or tea...?"

"A glass of cold water thank you" you apologise then and quickly go to the kitchen opening the fridge and hiding behind it you take the phone back into your hand.

'John Stones!!!' 'Your mother is here!' 'I'm going to kill you'

John doesn't even view the texts and you can't stand there forever waiting so you grab the water jug and take it to the woman.

"I don't want to take up so much of your time, you might be wondering why I'm here" the woman smiles after taking a sip.

"Um I can guess" you hide your nervousness around your glass, struggling however to down a sip of water.

"I assure you I'm not always this nosy" yeah right, "but with John I worry maybe a little too much" you smile at the woman's bluntness, taking time to observe her better you can see how much she actually looks like John.

"I never know how to handle him, he's always been so secretive about everything and I've always tried to push him because I want what's best for him" you don't know if you read right into it but it sounds as if the woman is trying to apologise for something. And you open your mouth to say something but she beats you to it.

"You've been friends for a long time, I should have seen it coming" you gasp with a suddenly blank mind, internally screaming at yourself to get yourself back into sense so you don't look even more hopeless. But apparently the woman is more focused on something else and doesn't notice your obvious discomfort.

You follow her gaze, caught by a photo of you and John from a few years earlier. You're not fond of pictures of yourself around the house, where everyone can have access to your memories, but John had given you the frame begging you to put it there, so you had pleased him.

"Can I just ask how long you've been together?"

"I don't know" you answer without thinking before widening your eyes trying to make up for it, "I mean... there was no specific date. It just happened I guess"

"I really should have seen it coming" for a moment it's as if she's lost in thought, shaking her head in disbelief, "there isn't a day we don't end up talking about you and he's always so fidgety when it comes to you"

"Really?" you ask surprised straightening up with your back as your phone vibrates but you don't feel the need to pick it up.

"Yeah, and he always has a smile on his face when it comes to you"

"John smiles all the time, I don't think that can be considered a one-off"

"Yeah but there's ways and means of smiling. It reaches his eyes"

"What happened? I was at practice I just saw the texts. I'm so sorry (Y/N), I'm going to have a good talk with her" John speaks sharply as soon as you pick up the phone and you have to raise your voice a little to make yourself heard and shut him up.

"It's okay John" you state around a spoonful of ice cream, the container in front of you.

"I'm sorry (Y/N) I swear, that woman crossed every line" he mutters and you can imagine his serious expression, his eyes a little darker than usual and half-closed, his nostrils flared.

"John no" you stick your spoon into the ice cream sighing, "don't do anything hasty, just calm down. Where are you? Are you driving now?"

From the other end of the phone only silence comes before you hear a sigh, "I'm on the road"

"Come to my place okay?"

The drive hadn't been that long to your house so you can still sense the annoyance in his figure and his gaze as he walks in and heads into the kitchen immediately eyeing the box on the counter.

"Why are you so annoyed?! Where's the carefree Stonesy from the last few days?" he looks around before stealing the spoon from your hands and taking some of that ice cream after sitting down on the counter.

"And why aren't you in full hysterics?" he retorts taking another spoonful of ice cream as you roll your eyes.

"I was at first, I wanted to kill you if you remember, but then we talked" you walk over to him taking the bowl out of his hands as he groans trying to take it back.

"If you're hungry I can make you something"

"That is fine"

"I don't think it's good for you" you put the lid on before setting the box down in the freezer before turning to him again, seeing him with his arms crossed giving you a dirty look. You do the same raising an eyebrow, you've become an expert at holding up his game over the years.

"What did she say to you?" he gives up shortly after relaxing his figure by swinging his legs, "she didn't treat you badly did she? She can be a bit-"

"Nosy? I noticed that" you shake your head opening the fridge just to do something as he pushes on. "Well?"

"Hmm? Nothing, I guess deep down she came to apologise because she didn't know we were together and apparently she's been pushing you into a lot of random girls' arms lately and stuff" you gesture shrugging and closing the door, giving him just a sidelong glance.

"Are you sure? There's nothing more?" John checks wary, it's your apparent calm and the bowl of ice cream you were practically devouring that put him on his toes. He'd practically been able to feel your panic through those texts you'd sent him and then he sees you and you seem to be a different person.

"You know me John, if there had been anything else or she had disrespected me in any way I certainly wouldn't have kept it to myself" you try to sound as calm as possible but your playing with that ring, taking it off and putting it back on, gives you away.

"Come on say it" he sighs, lowering his gaze to his shoes for a moment as you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just say it"

"John I don't know what you're talking about"

"I told you. Just say it" and he looks like he's ready to be hit just as if you were going to do it with a punch or something. But you just sigh as you move closer to him, his ankles linking lightly to your legs seeking contact.

"How long are you going to keep this up? Because I'm with you, I'm in now and I'm going to keep playing along. But your mother is just that, an eccentric mother only concerned about her son"

"So if we actually get married..." he leans his head slightly to the side smiling innocently as you smack him on the forehead rolling your eyes.

"Did you hit your head lately? Did you even hear what I said?"

"You said you would like to be with me"

"I said your mother is a good person, and she doesn't deserve this" you retort without giving your brain time to process what he's telling you.

"But if you really think about it, it would be perfect. I'd solve all my problems by not turning out as a liar and you'd have me"

"Did you just imply that I can't get a boyfriend in a normal way? I hope not"

"Sorry, I didn't mean that" he chuckles at your threatening expression pulling you to him and leaving a kiss in your hair.

His gaze is lost somewhere, he's so easily distracted you almost read surprise in his eyes when he lowers his head and realises you're still there. "John, what's going on with you mh?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm starting to really think about what my mom says. And that she's right. When football ends, what will I have left? What's wrong with me? Why couldn't I find anyone?"

"Hey no John listen to me carefully now. At thirty you may be considered old in your profession but I can assure you that for the rest of us life begins at that age" you take his face in your hands gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs making sure he sees and hears you above all, "you will have all the time in the world to find someone if you want to, to start a family and come to terms with the fact that you are getting older and your hair is getting white"

"Never" he quickly retorts, making you giggle, "I'll never have white hair"

"We'll see... if you can keep those curls, you'll be trouble even when you're old"

"Oh wow so you think I'll make it to eighty still on my own?!" he jokes strengthening his grip on your legs and moving forward slightly.

"Eighty? You have very high expectations for your life" you downplay by moving your arms along his neck.

"Aah what would I do without you" he sighs happily holding you close to him again, "Promise you'll always be by my side?"

At your non-response, his grip becomes more pronounced literally crushing your face into his chest. "Promise me"

"I promise. I promise" you giggle making his chest vibrate with your laughter as well. Quite often you're the one with the identity crisis and John has to play the therapist, calming you down and reminding you to get your feet down on the ground. But often the roles are reversed and you're the one putting the boy's pieces back together, happy that all those years of friendship have created a relationship where he's not afraid to be fragile and let himself be fixed.

"You'll always have me" you remember him in his arms, and when you pull away to let him know with your gaze too, he's already there looking at you. You see his face move closer to yours and instinctively you step back.

"Please I need to know"

"Know what?" his tone is almost a plea while there is confusion and nervousness in yours.

"If what I'm feeling inside is true" he knows you well by now and he can catch your eyes widening in surprise for a split second, a reaction that to unfamiliar eyes might not have happened.

"Can I kiss you?" you nod but you're already closing your eyes waiting for his lips to touch yours again.

"What are you doing?!" you ask giggling to yours and John's brother upon seeing the two of them exchanging some money.

"He bet fifty bucks your engagement was fake. And he lost" your brother is obviously very happy to have earned something in that whole thing, your brother-in-law is not so happy though.

"You bet on us?!" John asks incredulously at your side, an arm around your waist.

"Is that so unbelievable?" you hide your smile in the glass in your hand.

"You don't know John if you ask a question like that"

"Eh I can assure you I know him quite well" you two exchange a look of understanding as your brothers pretend to vomit. And you leave them arguing about the validity of that bet, turning away from everyone to have a moment alone in the garden of that facility that hosts you.

"Are we ever going to tell them the truth?"

"Who, to those two? Nah my brother deserves it"

"But mine doesn't" you quickly retort making John chuckle, "I'm sure we can find a way to take them off him"

"How?" you ask interested as he leaves a kiss on one cheek before moving closer to your ear, "We can steeal them"

"John Stones! You're such a bad influence on me... Let's do this" you rise up on your toes to search for his lips. "Anyway, your family is so damn crazy, nothing surprises me anymore"

"You're not completely normal either admit it"

"Hmm maybe you're right. I must have been pretty crazy that day to going along with you"

"Just that day?" he teases earning himself a hit on the arm before he draws you back to him to kiss you.

"I can't believe we actually got married" he sighs connecting your foreheads gently.

"Who knew my happy ending was always right in front of me"

"Sometimes I think if it wasn't for my mom we'd still be wandering around looking for someone"

"You mean your mother would still be introducing you to some girl"

"Are you jealous?" John smiles cheeky as you do the same. "Oh you know there's this little thing called a divorce"

"Oh no. No no no no, not now so many things seem to make sense. Don't even think about it" he shakes his head energetically tightening his grip on your waist as you laugh, running your ringed hand through his hair.

"I love you John Stones"

"I love you (Y/N) Stones"

#my writing #john stones #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #original #john stones one shot #football imagine #football imagines

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jellyfishloveletterghosts · 3 years

Text

Bebop Au

I've been watching the live action Cowboy Bebop and I haven't finished it yet but it's giving me some Harringrove thoughts. No, probably not whatever you're thinking of because it is just very loosely inspired. It's like the Lock and Key au where I picked a couple of elements I wanted to use and threw out the rest and built a story for these assholes. But Bebop au is the easiest way to explain the general setting and it was elements from this show that inspired these thots.

This is just rough because it’s been plaguing my mind the last two days and I needed it out so I can keep working on my HHE. I may or may not flush this out into a whole fic. 🤷‍♀️

No actual Cowboy Bebop spoilers, you don’t actually have to know anything about it except it takes place in space.

Warnings for Amnesia, dubious consent because of the amnesia.

Bebop Au

Billy is eight when he sees the prettiest boy/man he has ever seen frozen in time at a cryo facility. Billy is kind of obsessed with him, when he is young he just wants to be that pretty boy's friend but as he gets older those feelings change and he just wants him. It becomes an obsession, one that leads Billy to strive for professional (not always on the up and up) success.

Logically he knows when he buys the facility twenty years later that Steve is unlikely to still be there but he cannot help himself. It is while he is going over his new tenets trying not to think about the pretty boy that spurred this all on that he lays his eyes on him again and he is even prettier than Billy remembers. Billy looks through his file and finds out Steve’s been in cryo for nearly thirty years, longer than a person is supposed to be left on ice.

Billy barely resists murder when he finds out Steve has family, his parents are still alive in fact and they have been keeping him on ice all of this time. Instead he arranges to have Steve dethawed. It is a slow process, slower than most because he has been frozen so long. The docs keep him in a coma while they fix what damage they can. Nothing can be done about the inevitable memory loss, only time will tell if that will come back, any freeze over ten years always comes with that price.

Billy preps everything for Steve’s awakening, even the diamond encrusted ring he slides on his ring finger, a matching one already on his own.

Billy convinced himself this was the best plan, that it would be too harsh to wake Steve in a world where his own family did not come to wake him. So Billy is going to be his family, he has made up a whole pretty web of lies. Still his stomach churns with nerves when Steve finally blinks his eyes open and squints at him questioningly.

"Who are you?" Steve asks, eyes scanning over every inch of Billy before they turn to the rest of the room looking for something familiar, face pinching up as his confusion grows.

"I'm Billy your husband." Billy intentionally fiddles with the ring on his finger and as it catches the light Steve’s eyes drop to it. "How much do you remember?" Billy asks even though he knows the neurological damage had been extensive. Science has come a long way, they can heal the physical damage done to the brain but they cannot salvage the memories lost.

"You're my husband?" Steve asks like he does not believe him and for a split second Billy thinks maybe somehow Steve has retained his memories that maybe this was a terrible plan. "I don't know what that means." The soft admittance fills Billy with some relief that the look was not at catching him out lying. It was at the unfamiliar word. "Who am I?"

"You're Steve." Billy says moving closer and slowly taking Steve’s hand, giving him time to pull it back if he wishes. Hope swells in him when Steve lets him, dark eyes falling to their clasped hands and Billy slides his other hand to cover Steve’s, holding his one in both of his hands. "It's going to be okay, I'm here to take care of you."

Steve has to stay in the treatment facility for another week while they get him up to speed on the basics. Billy would prefer to bring him home during that time but it is a big neural load the way they do it, something that can take weeks, months, years even learned back in a matter of hours. Billy does not want to risk Steve’s health, his home is equipped for a lot but not the sort of surgery the brain bleeds that can happen with these things. Billy stays with him, posts up on a cot in his room to answer any questions Steve might have and to make sure they keep him healthy.

Billy keeps all of his sexual desires under wraps, just cuddles and dates, enjoying Steve’s company. He does not want to cross a line but after the first time he brings Steve home a puppy and gets an excited kiss on the lips and a thank you well Billy is a little weak for the feel of that mouth against his.

That one kiss opens the floodgates and Billy is always catching Steve and kissing him whenever he can. Not just his mouth Billy will kiss his hand, or his shoulder, his cheek, his neck. Will drag Steve close on the couch for a cuddle and drag his mouth over any available skin until Steve is gasping and moaning and Billy has to reluctantly stop.

"Why do you do that?" Steve asks, turning, kneeling on the couch as he stares Billy down a distracting picture with his cheeks flushed and his mouth parted on a deep breath.

"Do what?" Billy asks shifting on the couch to try and adjust himself without having to shove his hand in his pants. Steve makes the best noises Billy has ever heard and it always leaves him hard and leaking against the seam of his pants.

"You start something and then you stop, you keep leaving me hard and wanting." Steve says with a pout and Billy cannot help letting his eyes drop down to the obvious bulge in Steve’s trousers.

"I didn't want to pressure you into anything you aren't ready for." Billy says, mostly honest, there is also that invisible moral line he is trying to keep from crossing, kissing Steve is already a slippery slope, anything more and Billy knows it will be like wearing roller skates on that icy hill if he were to do more.

Steve’s pout deepens "but we're married. That’s one of the things married people do right? I want more than kisses B." Steve says before he is climbing into Billy’s lap and suddenly Steve is pressing down against his bulge. A slow grin dragging across his lips as Billy’s hands drop to his hips, he means to push him back to put some distance between them but when Steve rolls his hips and Billy cannot help moaning.

"You, you sure pretty boy?" Billy asks, panting and holding on by a thin tether ready to snap and give Steve anything he asks for to hell with moral lines.

Steve tangles a hand in Billy’s hair and drags his head back, kissing at Billy’s neck as he keeps rolling his hips grinning as he drags his ass over Billy’s bulge and rubs his own against Billy’s stomach. "Positive." Steve practically purrs and Billy uses the hold on his hips to speed his movements. The two of them are fully clothed and overheating as they rut together until they are spilling in their pants.

It is a slippery slope but Billy keeps his own dick to himself for the most part. Instead distracting Steve with his tongue and his fingers and all sorts of toys. Billy is pretty sure Steve has opinions on the lack of Billy dick involved in their fun time but he always just distracts Steve with another mind number orgasm and uses his own hand until he has spilled on the bed, the floor, Steve’s ass. The most he will allow himself.

Things are good, Billy has never been happier, he takes Steve with him to events, out to dinner and to shows. Mostly they stay in though and Billy puts off everything from the less up and up side of the business. After a few months though a few off-planet things pile up and Billy cannot bring Steve with him, not for this sort of business.

Billy thinks that is why Steve seems to be in a mood when he leaves, it is the first time they have parted. Steve is off on their hollo calls and Billy makes it a point to pick him up all sorts of goodies, maybe the best chocolates the galaxy has to offer will make him feel better about Billy having to leave him behind. Billy is nothing but excited when he finally gets home loaded down with presents for Steve.

Billy drops his bags when he comes in to find Steve splayed out on his bed looking delectable in a slinky outfit, an outfit he must have picked on his own because Billy has never seen it. “You're home.” Steve says patting the bed in front of him. Billy does not have to be asked twice and as soon as he sits, he has a lap full of Steve who is kissing him as he tugs at his belt trying to get Billy’s pants open.

“Hey, hey slow down.” Billy says, as Steve gets a hand in his pants and grabs Billy’s cock.

“Why?” Steve asks, something off in his voice that puts Billy on edge. Steve is still acting strange even with Billy’s return.

“I just got home, we have time for all this later.” Billy says, really he means to distract Steve, that invisible moral line still standing.

“Later? Right.” Steve scoffs as he rolls off of Billy and shifts to the other side of the bed, sitting with his back to Billy as he lets his feet settle on the floor.

“Pretty boy what does that mean?” Billy asks, wanting to move closer but keeping his distance.

“Just wondering where the line is exactly, you’ll lie to me, make me love you but you won’t fuck me? That just too far, like making up an entire lie for my life wasn’t fucked?” Steve shouts, standing and pacing and Billy’s stomach drops out, he remembers. “Who even are you Billy? You’re not my fucking husband I know that much!”

“Pretty boy, pretty boy calm down, just, just let me explain.” Billy says quickly, standing and moving over to Steve, stopping when he holds his hands up.

“Why so you can keep lying? What happened to my family Billy?” Steve asks, eyes big and sad and all Billy wants to do is comfort him but that is not what he wants and instead Billy gives him the truth.

“I honestly thought it was for the best.” Billy had wanted to spare Steve pain but pretending they were already married admittedly had been taking things too far, he just had not been able to help himself. “Your family left you, they’re still alive living it up on Tartan. They could have come back for you at any time, there was nothing financially or medically wrong with you that would have prevented that. I’m sorry no one came for you.” Billy says taking a step toward Steve whose eyes are wet with tears dripping down his face but when he goes to Steve get angry again, hissing like an angry cat.

“So what you thought you’d just take me instead? Lie to me for months, you’re not better than them!” Steve yells again, hands balling up into fists. “I can’t, I can’t stay here with you. I can’t trust you.” Steve shakes angrily “Except, except I don’t have any way to leave. I don’t have anything, do I? They would have kept everything for themselves.” It is true beyond the trust keeping his cryo chamber in upkeep he does not have anything. Billy looked into it, found out why the Harrington’s left him there, he is the heir to his grandparents' fortune, with him frozen all of his money is in their hands. They were not awful enough to just murder their own son but Billy knows living with that knowledge will still hurt. “All I have is lies from people I thought loved me.”

“You have the account I opened for you and you are welcome to any of my ships, anything you want is yours.” It breaks Billy’s heart but he knew this could happen, he just really hoped it would not, still he knows he cannot keep Steve against his will not if he ever stands a chance of winning him back. “You will always have a home here with me.”

“Just like that? You’re not going to try and stop me?” Steve asks suspicious as he sniffles.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I don't know how else I could ever even begin to make it up to you.” Billy says, as much as he does not want Steve to go, he cannot force him to stay and he could not imagine doing such a thing to him.

“I may never come back.” Steve says and Bill maybe does imagine it now, locking him up caging him here so he can never leave him but that is not what love is and Billy knows that would only hurt Steve more.

“I’ll never stop hoping you do.” Billy says as he watches Steve move to the door.

He pauses for a second and Billy has hope that he will turn around and that he will choose to stay, instead Steve bids him farewell. "Good bye Billy."

Steve takes Billy’s favorite ship and he knows it is intentional because despite the big lies he was honest about himself with Steve. Billy hopes that it was more of a way to remember him than pure spite. He takes the dog and Billy’s glad because he is pretty sure he would not have the patience for Sunny who whines anytime Steve is out of sight for too long, he would be a constant reminder of Steve’s absence. He takes some of his clothes and things Billy has given him but most of them he leaves behind, the ship is spacious but not the kind people live on for more than a few days, no room for more.

Billy keeps tabs on him, predictably Steve heads for Tartan and Billy sends a team of cowboys, run by an old friend to protect Steve from anything his parents might throw at him. It turns out to be a good call and Billy really hopes that after that Steve will come back. Instead he joins up with the cowboys and Billy worries even more than before, especially when Hopper refuses to give Billy any information on how Steve is doing.

So naturally Billy sends Tommy his right hand man after Steve to keep an eye on him but not to interfere unless it is life or death. The news of Steve’s exploits helping Hopper and his crew catch bounties is enough to have Billy going grey. When Max is not teasing him about it, she is reassuring him that Steve will find it very distinguished when he comes back. Every few weeks there is a new mission that makes Billy feel faint and Steve has a few close calls that leave him wanting to rush to Steve’s location but he always comes out okay and Billy keeps giving him his distance.

Billy is not so sure there is a when when Tommy sends him some rather risqué pictures of Steve and a few varying partners.

“Stop pouting, they’re all blonde and the dudes could be your doubles, like look at them ew, Steve clearly has no taste. One of these days he’s going to realize he can have the real thing and come back to you even if you are an idiot.” Max announces when she catches him looking through the photos of Steve and his dates, he will deny it but he startles, dropping the hollo disk and sending it flying across the room.

“I don’t recall inviting you in here.” Billy spits as he gets up and goes to retrieve his hollo screen, cursing when it has slid too far under the big couch for him to reach.

“Yeah well stop sulking and come see a show with me, your hollo will still be here for you to pine at when we get back. Steve wouldn’t actually want you becoming some weird obsessive shut in. Well, more weird and obsessive.” Max says, giving him an unimpressed look when Billy just glares at her.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to get out. Who taught you to be this much of an asshole?” Billy asks as he abandons the hollo under the couch.

“You.” Max says face scrunched up as she stares at him incredulously as he starts denying it.

Billy is not expecting company when he gets home but he could not be happier to find Steve sitting on his couch, the abandoned hollo in hand. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me.” Billy just shrugs. Steve knew that even without the hollo showing him proof. Tommy has had a few run ins with Steve over the last year.

“You seemed like you were having a good time.” Billy says as he pours himself a drink and then one for Steve when he holds the bottle up and he nods.

“Yeah I like being a bounty hunter, I never really had a thing before, it’s nice.” Steve says, taking the drink Billy hands them their fingers, brushing.

“Then why did you come back? Don’t tell me I’m the job.” Billy could be if anyone dug too deep into his dealings but Billy keeps track of things like that he would know and it is not like his dealings are a secret to Hopper.

“Well not you, your assistant it turns out embezzled from the last company she was working for with the help of the company's accountant.” Billy’s jaw clenches from more than the disappointment of not being the reason Steve came back. His current accountant was vetted by his assistant. “Don’t worry Hop and the others are rounding them up, but you’re probably going to need to hire a forensic accountant.”

“Is that all you came back for?” Billy asks knuckles white against his glass as he brings it to his lips and takes a sip.

“No B.” Steve says with a snort, gentling the glass out of Billy’s hand. “If that was all it was I would have just had Hopper tell you, their bounty isn’t why I’m here it barely covers the fuel to get here. They didn’t manage to embezzle that much before they got caught last time but I know she’s been working for you for a while. I came back because I miss you.” Steve admits, dragging his bottom lips between his teeth.

Billy cannot help but grab Steve by the cheek and kiss him until they are both breathless. “Does this mean you are going to stay? What about your new career?” Billy asks as they pant against each other's mouths.

“Well being a cowboy means a decent amount of time between big jobs, I was hoping we could work something out. Like I could come back during breaks and maybe if you wanted we could meet plac-” Steve does not get to finish his sentence because Billy is kissing him again, he will take Steve anyway he can have him, he is already making plans to leave Max in charge when he inevitably goes to visit Steve.

“Do you finally want to make this marriage complete, seal the deal so to speak. Get to hyper drive, Test the suspension, check m-” Billy slaps a hand against Steve’s mouth, he has clearly been hanging around Hopper for too long if he is spitting out all of these euphemisms unprompted.

“I get you meaning and yes absolutely but just so you know we’re not actually married.” Billy admits eyes groping to Steve's hand and Billy is glad to see the ring still on his finger.

“Not yet, I got to make an honest man out of you somehow.” Steve says, pushing Billy’s hand away and grinning at him.

Billy is about to drag Steve into another kiss when there comes a knock on the door. “You decent Stevie?”

“Yeah old man.” Steve calls back and a second later a frowning Hopper is popping his head in, giving Billy a nod before he is glaring at Steve.

“Don’t call me that kid.” Hopper huffs and Steve just grins like a little shit. “We got our bounty, heading to take them to the closest processing center, want us to swing by and pick you up after?” Billy cannot help frowning at the thought of Steve leaving so soon.

“Nah, could you pick me up in a week? Me and Billy have some catching up to do.” Steve says and Billy feels his worry lighten. “We’re going to-”

“Nope! No! No I don’t want any details!” Hopper yells slamming the door as the both of them laugh.

“Now where were we?” Steve asks as the humor subsides and Billy drags him into his lap. “Right, yeah this is a good place to start back up.” and they are making out again like horny teenagers.

#harringrove #jellyghostfic #fanfiction #st fic #Amnesiac Steve Harrington #Bounty Hunter Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington #a lil spicy

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