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#hope this joke hasn’t been made already
stvenzz · 2 days
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he smells like the sun.
that was your first thought about megumi fushiguro. it was surprising, considering his dark-colored clothes. you’d have thought he’d stink like a virgin nerd, but he smells like a warm sunny day. sitting next to him has made you realize how much you miss the days when you’d just drive off to the beach and sit there.
cramped in a small aula, you found yourself sitting closer to him than you’d thought. megumi doesn’t seem to care though, as your elbow keeps knocking against his. “-and of course, i’d like to remind you all that the campus winter ball is coming soon!” the dean says into the mic, and a flurry of groans follow. “it will be held in this very aula, with festive, non-alcoholic drinks! it will be a chance for you to bond with your classmates and get to know the faculty!”
“bond, like he boned one of the students last year.” you mutter to yourself.
that catches his attention. you smell like cinnamon. yes, yeah. like cinnamon rolls. megumi thinks, as he glances at you. he tries to think of why he hasn’t seen you around before - how he doesn’t recognize the cinnamon from your hair. you smile at your own joke, and he can’t help but smile a little too. not that it was funny, but because he thought you were funny. and alluring. and cinnamon scented.
“that’s it for today. i am hoping to see you all next week, alright?” the dean announces, but half of the crowd has already left to attend their morning classes. you start to pack up and leave, megumi does too. you think it’s the last you’ll ever smell sunshine indoors. he’s thinking of the cinnamon buns in the canteen.
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the next time you see sunshine - yes, that’s the nickname you’ve come up for him - is during a dorm check. you see, you’ve been staying at a dormitory for a year with someone studying physics. nerds like that don’t usually stay too long in dormitories - they get too homesick and have to go back to their mamas or end up renting some other place less noisy or dirty. you’re kind of jealous, actually. the dorms are most of the time filthy with the smell of weed or tears.
“excuse me,” you hear a male voice chirp outside your room. “[y/n]?” groaning, you get up and fix your shirt. it’s supposed to be my off day. what the fuck is the nerd doing here- oh. there he was. in a pale blue button down and puffer jacket, stood megumi fushiguro - sunshine. “oh. it’s… hi.” he mutters, a light pink shade blushing his cheeks.
unbeknownst to you, megumi had been searching for traces of your cinnamon shampoo all over campus. “hey, do you… smell that cinnamon shit?” megumi would ask his friends, to where they’d laugh and shake their hands.
“you shouldn’t be smoking here.” he says, with a surprisingly confident manner.
you immediately become conscious of the small cigarette in between your index and middle finger, and you raise your eyebrows. “who are you?” you ask, pretending not to enjoy the warmth of his scent. “the new resident assistant.” he says, pointing to his clipboard. his eyes are deadpan, but inside, his heart is beating a mile a minute - he finally knows! you were his mystery cinnamon smell, as creepy as that sounds. “i meant your name, dingus.” you roll your eyes, taking a long drag of the cigarette. at that, his eyes seem to falter in surprise, but he shrugs. “shouldn’t matter. you know i could get you kicked out, right? just for smoking.”
the threat gets you thinking - why were you trying so hard to resist this nerd? “i’m almost finished. be patient, will you?” you smile sweetly, and it’s hard for him not to smile back. there’s an unspoken tension between you two, and it’s not the bad kind. in fact, you feel like you could almost read his emotions and his deadpan face. megumi’s eyes scan around your room, looking for anything he could report.
“well,” megumi scribbles down something on his clipboard. “it’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”
your heart starts beating funny — he didn’t report you for smoking. usually, you’d be more careful when smoking in the dorms, but this time, with your roommate gone and the absence of classes, you decided to just do it once, in your room. oddly enough, that’s the exact time the newly-appointed resident assistant, megumi fushiguro, arrived at your room, looking to check on the conditions of your place.
“you too.”
you put out your cigarette and settle with the fact that you may just never know sunshine’s name.
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★☆ a/n: little blurb i wrote when i wuz in love with megumi.
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certifiedbowsbian · 1 year
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adora: stars, i’m so hungry
swift wind:
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church-of-lilith · 1 year
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she’s everything. he’s just ken.
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visionsofmagic · 7 months
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day 10: bruce wayne [car sex]
࿓ synopsis • bats fucks you in his batmobile to teach you a lesson after you disobey his order.
―❦ nsfw, autonomous driving, one has clothes on one hasn’t, suited!bats, batmobile, markings, car riding, possessiveness, jeaolusy, pet names, swearing, master kink, rude!bats, identity dilemma, inner toughts, spanking, begging, brat taming, clothes full on/off, kissing, ‘is all I guess. • 1.9k • thought comic bats while writing but you can imagine this with any version of batman as you like of course. enjoy the beginning of the second week of kinktober event, hope you will like this week too! [kinktober m.]
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“bats – please –“ as the gotham’s city’s night lights pass behind the black windows of the batmobile you’re in, your own voice gets silent by the loud sound of the road, yet, they reach to his ears that are covered with his black batman mask. “it’s too much –“ 
the man under you stays still even when his actions don’t stop – fingering your clit, he seems like he doesn’t care about how you’re sitting on his lap, soaking onto his black bat suit, getting wetter each passing time – having no dress on you makes the situation more sinful, especially when he has his own armored suit on, even the mask is still covering his face and ears – his bat ears is a source of balance for you to hold onto while taking his fingers as if it’s the first time he does this.
you have no idea how this man makes you feel stranger to being fucked by him whenever he has you like this – weak yet so powerful because of the whole situation.
it should’ve been a peaceful night, a simple mission – yet, it turned into something more, and you were the one to blame the moment you began to flirt with one of the guests to distract him. you were doing what he told you to from the other line of the call, giving instructions one by one with the help of the device on your ear. it was going all right until the man got interested in you, buying you drinks, joking around, and asking if you would like to follow him to do upstairs. 
you didn’t yet you had to act close to the man to get rid of him because bats told you to leave his side immediately. your mistake was taking that decision; putting one of your hands on the man’s shoulder, raising on your feet, and whispering something into his ear before leaving. apparently, this made bruce go mad – causing him to give you a lesson that you had to learn right away.
the moment you entered the batmobile, he took you onto his lap, taking all your clothes from one to another, looking darker than ever – hands fast, lips kissing yours so passionately that you believe your lips begin to bleed, the suit remains on as he begins to finger you – he just opens the zipper of his armored pants, leaving his hardened cock visible to your eyes.
wanting to touch him, your hand goes to his cock, yet, it is stopped in mid-air. he doesn’t waste any more seconds, slapping your clit, he adds, “you had to earn it. you will not get it until you beg for it.”
now here you are; already cum for one time, its hints still on your thighs and his pants, however, he doesn’t stop – you know he waits for you to beg – you try not to beg, stubborn, believing you did nothing wrong, but, it’s too much – he knows every point to make you beg – the vigilante know your own body more than you do.
when he hits your g-spot with only his gloved fingers, again and again, you cry out loud, “bruuuce – aggh – please -!” the words go out of your parted lips on their own as your hands grip his bat ears strongly, bouncing on his fingers when he doesn’t move them. the knowledge of making a mess out of you doesn’t reach into your brain, so, you continue fucking his fingers – his dark-colored eyes look up, a smirk position on his attractive masked face, mocking you. “please! I need youu – aggh!”
“pathetic,” he remarks, “bouncing on my fingers as if they’re my dick,” a chuckle breaks the lewd sounds – the outworld out of the batmobile is long forgotten. “want it so much? want me to bend you over, fuck you in this car?”
without thinking, you nod rapidly, eyes half-closed, your second cum drips onto his fingers, high hits the body, feeling a bit exhausted yet ready to take his thick cock now. 
your mind can’t comprehend what he’s doing but in a moment you find him lowering his seat, opening enough gap between your bodies and the batmobile’s front. 
afraid of falling into the surface, you try to hold his shoulders – still can’t believe you fucked yourself on his fingers and cum onto them when he talked dirty. the power – the effect he has on you is incredible! the mind is so dizzy because of him that you realize what he has done after a moment, your widening eyes look at the front mirrors of the car, seeing the road in front of you – the scene changes faster than you think – you swear the car moves like a lightning. 
the reality hits your face similar to the feeling of cold water washing your body over on a hot day. however, you can’t focus on it when bruce’s gloved and wet hands position on your waist, highering your ass up, pulling your body closer to his face.
when you hold onto the wheel to stay still, excitement and shock blurring the last cramps of your mind, fear of going in an extremely fast batmobile makes your blood boil – yet the trust you have for bruce is there, strongly holding you. his low voice reaches your ears after a while, and his hot breaths wash your pussy and ass holes that clench around nothing, making you jump in pure pleasure. “you disappointed me,” he says, “you disobeyed a direct order from me. that man meant nothin’ to me but disobeying – oh – what a bad choice y/n.”
you couldn’t wait any longer, knowing his one step away from licking you, lust takes control of you, and you begin to say how sorry you’re – how you didn’t mean to – both you and bruce know you did mean to, to get his attention, to get this side of him, because you’re a brat of him who he will tame.
“keep your begs for forgiveness for later. you have to prove to me that you’re capable of obeying me, you pretty brat.”
“anything, I will do anything for you bru -!” a slap to the ass, a slap to the pussy – scream escapes from your lips. “bats! just give me an order, will do it – just please – please fuck me already!”
“in that case,” he says, not licking you, making you pout in disappointment but when he lowers down your body, his cock’s tip meets with your aching pussy’s folds, he clicks a button, the engine slows down a little bit, the wheel of the car gets closer to you. “hold the wheel.”
you try to understand what’s going on, “what are you doin – aggh!”
his left-hand grips your neck, holding it tightly, closing the gap between your face and his, he points to the wheel that stands right in front of you. “hold the fucking wheel if you want to be fucked, y/n.”
swearing lowly, your shaking hand finds the wheel, holding it strongly, waiting for bruce to push a button – when he does, the engine starts moving faster than before. unlike the previous situation, this time, it’s you who drives the batmobile.
“bruce – how – “ your words are cut off by his deep voice.
“don’t take your eyes off the road. you will take us to the home without an accident. if you turn even a little bit, I will stop fucking you my love.” the difference in his words and voice make you go crazy, and that craziness doubles up when he lowers your body down enough to make him thrust his thick cock into your pussy, filling you up.
screaming with sudden pain and pleasure, your eyes roll over for a second before looking right at the road in front of you – gotham city still stays under the darkness of the night, the only voice that world excepts is the powerful sound of the batmobile riding on the endless looking road, the moans coming from you and swears from bats mixing with the flesh hitting the flesh can be heard by only you and bruce – the sin you commit cannot be known by another.
the focus you put on the road gets distracted whenever bruce shoves his dick into your wet clit. back of your thighs hitting his clothed thighs sends pain through your body, leaving red marks on your flesh – the balls that meet with your ass cheeks increase the sensitivity you have, making you cry as you clean them rapidly to see the road.
his name comes out of you over and over again, the brain is too occupied to drive, the mind is too crazy to function, and the body is too full of him, the man who wants to devour you, and doing it right now – using your body as he pleases, not moving his hips greatly, instead, he makes use of your body by lifting it up, then, pulling it down until his dick fills your walls deeper, harder and rougher.
“fucking brat,” he says, a poison that his voice holds captures you – you feel so pathetic as if you’re his fucktoy now. then why do you feel so high like the most powerful drug in the whole world gets into your veins with the maximum level, you ask yourself, then the answer travels to your mind after he adds, “can’t obey her master? what a pretty yet mindless girl you are, don’t you think?” oh, right, he’s the most powerful drug on the whole world, and now, you’re at his mercy.
“u-huh – agghh – oh myy – bats! please, please, please –“ you have no idea what you’re pleasing for, but he knows – he chuckles lowly, having fuck great entertainment thanks to you that you feel a kind of pride in an instant.
“u-huh?” he mocks, fucks you still, close to the edge, just waiting for the right moment. “too cockdumbed to even understand what I’m saying. but you do good my good girl, keep going, we’re close to the cave.”
the new information makes you happy, smiling widely, and looking outside clearly, seeing the cave’s entering. with the relief, you begin to drive the car more carefully than before, hands getting stronger, losing yourself in the pleasure of being fucked by bruce in his damn batmobile.
finally reaching your destination, you slow down the engine, the cave’s front door opens, and pushing a button, bruce hugs you from behind, making you sit down on his cock with an instantaneous speed, earning the loudest moan out of you.
the mouth standing beside your ear says, “cum. cum on my cock.” and you who doesn’t know she’s waiting for him to allow her – to order, do what he tells, cum on his cock as his hot semen hit the deep inside of you in sync.
kissing your shoulder, he holds your shaking body because of both the coldness of the cave you have entered and the opposite sense of warmness that bruce gives – the smell of highness on the air, chests getting up and down, breaths rapid and low, lust ends – its place gets completed with the affection of love.
“did so good,” the car’s door opens, bruce takes your body in bridal style after wrapping it with his cape. his gentle lips put kisses on your face as he walks into the bathroom of his room, watching your soft features, eyes closed to sleep. he smiles fondly, proud of you. “let me take care of my pretty girl now.”
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❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *lots of kisses!*
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atomicami · 4 months
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charity work
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contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader
- summary: it’s the day of the holiday bake sale, and abby’s craving something sweeter than the desserts you’re selling. (part 3)
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, semi-public sex, pet names instead of y/n, kinda roughdom!abby??, oral & fingering (r!receiving), cockblocking, strap usage (r!receiving), abby hits it from the back 🕺, edging, some mirror play, some degrading, abby referring to the strap as her cock, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else
- author’s note: merry christmas everyone! what better way to celebrate it than with a contractor abby fic am i right? i hope y’all enjoy this one 🤍
previous parts: quick fix, surprise visit
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Seven in the morning, it's only the crack of dawn, and you’re spending the early hours of the day at the farmers market, setting up for the annual holiday bake sale.
Your hands were full of all the pastries and desserts you’d spent baking yesterday while Joel was carrying the chairs and tables to set up with. You tried to walk as carefully as you could to keep yourself from tripping on your knee-high boots or spilling anything on the red sweater dress you had on. When you arrived at your spot, your dad already had everything set up for you.
“Jeez kiddo, thought you’d never make it here in time with them boot heels ya got on,” your dad joked, opening the second folding chair he had in his hand and placing it behind the table.
“Well Dad, I figured I’d make myself presentable for the bake sale, don’t you think?” you replied, carefully setting down the load of sweets on the table.
Well, if we’re being honest here, there’s only one person in particular you’re planning to make an impression on today, and she still hasn’t arrived.
For a moment, you look over to the empty spot where Abby & Jerry are settled before you begin to unpack and arrange your pastries. It’s no surprise to you that Abby still hasn’t arrived yet. After that last-minute encounter you had with her at her place, you figured that she’d be knocked out for at least another hour.
And you were definitely right. About an hour later, Abby and Jerry finally arrived, right before the bake sale officially began.
Joel leans close to you as the two of you watch them quickly rush to set their stand up. “Look at ‘em, I wonder what made Jerry n’ his kid so late to the sale…”
You honestly couldn’t help but laugh to yourself about it too. The fact that Abby and Jerry were now just setting their things up while everyone else was ready was just too funny to you. It seemed like karma got back to her after her need to call you at 1 in the morning that night.
Once the two had their table set up, the bake sale finally started.
You looked over at the table that stood in front of you. A variety of desserts that you’ve made was all spread out on top of it. You’ve spent the past day making every single dessert you could think of: brownies, cinnamon rolls, muffins, even a whole plate of peach pie, because it truly can’t be a Southern bake sale if someone’s table doesn’t have a peach pie.
And lastly, there was the round tray of flan that you made. Out of all the desserts you’ve made, the flan made you the most nervous to sell. Given that this dessert came from your mother’s side of the family, you’ve decided to make it exclusively for family events or traditions out of the fear that others wouldn’t like it.
Nonetheless, your dad practically begged you to make it for the bake sale, and you couldn’t help but oblige.
A couple hours of the bake sale pass by and it feels like years to you. Almost half of your sweets have been sold, which was good, but you can’t help but wish that this community event could be a little more…interesting to you.
And luckily, Abby was about to make her appearance to change that.
While you were distracted with the customers, Abby was watching you from across the room, patiently waiting for Joel to leave the stand to get you by yourself. She had her own plan to be able to get even with you after the stunt you pulled onto her in her office.
Because if there’s anything sweeter than a Texas holiday bake sale, it’s a fresh slice of payback.
Once she noticed that you were by yourself at the table, she excused herself to her now distracted father to walk over to your stand.
You felt a tap on your shoulder from your side and turned around to see Abby standing next to you. “Got some pretty sweet looking pastries here princess, mind if I have a taste?”
“Abby…” you tell her sternly. “You know you’re not supposed to be this close to me right now, especially with both of our dads around.”
Abby simply ignores your warning as she walks around your table, admiring all of the pastries you had set up for sale. “I know that, but I’m just kinda craving something sweet,” she says as she slightly dips the tip of her finger into the white frosting of the cinnamon roll pan before lifting it up to her mouth and sucking it clean.
You roll your eyes at her, grabbing the tray and pulling it away from her. “Well, unless you’re going to buy something, then you shouldn’t be here,” you warn her again.
“Actually…I was craving something a little sweeter than these…” she replies with a smirk, slowing down her pace as she walks around your table.
It took you a while to get her intentions, but the way her eyes were flickering between you and the table, you instantly got the message.
Your eyes widened in shock and you began to shake your head. “No, Abby, don’t you fucking dare—“
But it was too late. Within a matter of seconds, Abby dropped down to her knees and lifted the red tablecloth before crawling under the table.
You tried to kick her away so she could get out, but there wasn’t enough time to do so, because Joel was already coming your way with one of his friends next to him.
“Hey, sweetheart, you remember Martin, right? Used to work f’me when I was startin’ up the company,” he tells you as he points at him.
“Yes, hi Martin, it’s good to see you again.” you tell him with a smile.
You’re trying your best to keep your cool right now, but it’s practically impossible for you to do so now that Abby’s lifting up your sweater dress and spreading your legs open underneath the tablecloth.
Your dad looks over to Martin while gesturing him to all of your pastries arranged on the table. “My kid right here baked up all these sweets for the sale today. But this…” he pauses for a moment, pointing at the pan of flan that stood neatly at the front. “This custard thing right here’s the best thing she could ever make, I’ll tell ya that.”
“That so?” his friend asked, serving himself up a slice. “Whatcha got here, kid?”
“It’s flan, sir. I-It’s my mother’s recipe.” you reply to him, trying not to strain your voice as Abby shifts your underwear to the side from underneath.
You watch the man in front of you take a bite of the dessert, smiling after he’s fully eaten it. “Well I must say, this is one of the best desserts I’ve had in this here bake sale so far.” he said before pulling out a five-dollar bill from his wallet and handing it to you.
At that moment, when you were about to lean forward to grab the money, was when Abby’s hands grabbed ahold of your hips and pushed you back down onto the chair, causing the rest of the table to shake.
You gasp at the sudden impact, and your jaw practically fucking drops once she inserts two fingers into your pussy.
It could have been any other time when she could’ve done that move, but no. She just had to fucking do it right in front of your father, out of all people.
Regardless, you try your best to compose yourself and attempt to cover it up. “S-Sorry about that, I was trying to get up but, my leg kind of fell asleep…must be from sitting down all day.” you said to the other man, extending out your hand to take the bill from him before inserting it in the black cash box that was in front of you.
“S’ no worries ma’am,” the man simply says before waving you goodbye, and looking over to your dad to shake his hand. “Good seeing you as always Joel.” he says to him before walking off.
Your dad shakes his hand back before turning to face you. “You alright sweetheart? Seemed like you were actin’ a bit off just now.” he asked you with a concerned expression on his face.
You simply nod at him, genuinely trying to appear normal, and ignore the fact that Abby’s thick fingers were slowly pumping in and out of your cunt right now. If it weren’t for the loud atmosphere of the event, you’re almost certain that anyone could easily hear the squelching noises it made every time her fingers moved.
“Y-yeah, Dad, sorry…s’just a lot of people here this time.” you tell him nervously.
“Well, if ya need a break, I can try to cover for a bit if—“
“No!” you exclaimed, placing your hands in front of him to keep him from getting closer to you. “N-no, it’s okay, Dad,” you said to him in a quieter tone. “I’ll be alright, promise.”
Your dad opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a barking sound, which progressively gets louder by the second. The two of you looked around to see what it was, and you seriously couldn’t believe it.
It was Alice, Abby’s dog, and by the looks of it, she was approaching your table.
You slightly flinch a bit once Alice jumps up at your table, barking up at the two of you before quickly getting down and sniffing under the tablecloth.
Joel walks over to the front of the table where the dog is in an attempt to shoo her away. “What the hell are ya doing here?! Get on out of here! Go on, get!”
You’d expect Abby to at least try to help you get her dog out, given the vulnerable position you were in right now, but she doesn’t budge about it. Instead, she only quickens the pace of her fingers inside you and moves closer to you to latch her mouth onto your throbbing clit. You want to help your dad out, you really do, but all you could focus on was trying to be quiet and not let a single moan or whimper leave your lips.
As much as Joel was trying to get the dog away from the table, she still wouldn’t move, she knew that Abby was under there, as if she could have smelled her from miles away.
“Why the hell aren’t ya leavin’?” he says to himself as he continues to move her away. “What are you tryin’ to find there?”
Your dad starts to get closer to the table now, and you can just feel your heart racing. The closer he got to it the faster your heart kept beating. This could be it. Once your dad was about to see what was under the table, it was over for the both of you.
But to your luck, as Joel was about to lift up the tablecloth, Jerry was already making his way there to get ahold of his dog. Talk about perfect timing, right?
“There you are, Alice, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” he says, leaning forward to pick up her leash from the ground.
Your dad scoffs at him and crosses his arms in disbelief. “Try to get a hold of your mutt, Jerry. Damn dog near knocked down my daughter’s table.”
“Tough talk for someone who just lost two of his clients last week to my company,” Jerry replies, clutching Alice’s leash in his hand. “I’d spend less time worrying about me and more time trying to keep your clientele if I were you, Joel.”
As blissed out as you were feeling from Abby’s mouth and fingers right now, you could still visibly see the anger rushing through your father’s veins right now.
“Don’t act so innocent, Jerry, you know damn well that you offered my clients a better deal for them.” your dad replied before pausing for a moment. “You know, you shouldn’t have gone after them, because I just got a deal to work with the Mitchell family next week. Haven’t you been eyeing them for months now?”
The two of them bicker for what feels like ages. At this point, your brain is just tuning them out, still completely blissed on the movements of Abby’s tongue rolling up and down on your clit, her fingers sliding in and out of your cunt so smoothly while her other hand grips your inner thigh to keep them open. The pleasure she was giving you under that table right now is so intense that you could seriously care less about your surroundings right now. All you wanted at that moment more than anything was to cum undone into her mouth.
“You know what, Joel? I don’t have time for this right now,” he tells him before pausing to hesitate for a moment. “I’m trying to find my daughter, have either of you seen her around?”
Oh, you knew damn well where she was.
Your dad laughs and shakes his head. “Jesus, Jerry. Can’t find your kid either? Seems like you’ve got to put her on a leash too, don’t you think?”
However, the pleasure that Abby was giving you was so intense that you didn’t realize that her name had now slipped out of your mouth.
“Oh, my god, Abby…” you say to yourself before quickly gasping and covering your mouth. You’re finally snapped back into reality as you look up to see Joel and Jerry staring back at you.
“Do you know where she is?” Jerry asked, raising an eyebrow with concern.
“O-Oh um, yeah, I-I think I saw her a few rows down, I-If you can find her there…” you tell him, trying to compose yourself once again.
Jerry simply thanks you in response before walking off with Alice alongside him.
“About damn time he left,” your dad says, watching him walk off. “Can’t stand that man for the life of me.”
Joel’s phone starts to ring moments later, leading him to pull it out of his pocket to check who it is. “Shit, s’ one of my clients…” he says with a sigh before looking up at you. “You sure you’ll be alright by yourself, sweetheart?”
You open your mouth to say yes at first, but then take a moment to reconsider. “A-Actually, do you think you could watch the stand for a bit? I could use a break.”
Abby immediately pauses her movements upon hearing that, removing her mouth and fingers out of you. You try not to whine at the loss.
Your dad nods in response. “ ‘Course I can, just let me take this call real quick, yeah? I’ll be there in just a second.” he says before briefly walking off to take the phone call.
You wait until your dad is out of sight to lift up the tablecloth, seeing the blonde below you with a confused expression on her face. “Why the hell did you tell him that you were leaving?” she whispers to you.
“Because I’m not gonna be fucking sitting here being teased by your mouth all day.” you whisper back to her, trying to keep your voice down. “If you’re going to fuck me here, then you’re gonna do it right.” you pause for a moment to check if the coast was clear. “My dad’s still gone, hurry up and go to the bathroom before he sees you. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
You watch the blonde roll her eyes before pulling the tablecloth down, quickly crawling out of the table and getting back up on her feet. She also checks to see if Joel is still gone before leaving your side and rushing off to the bathroom.
You take a quick moment to adjust your underwear and your dress underneath the table before slowly getting back up to your feet as well. Within minutes, Joel returns to your table and takes a seat down in the chair next to yours.
“Alright so, everything is set up and served for the customers, all you have to do is take the money they give you and put it in the cash box.” you tell him before turning around to leave, only to pause for a moment and looking back at him. “And don’t eat any of the pastries, alright?”
Your dad puts your hands up in defense. “Can’t make a promise ‘bout that, kiddo.”
You simply roll your eyes and playfully punch at his arm before pushing your chair in and leaving the table. Once your dad was out of sight, you began to walk a little faster, now rushing to get to the bathroom with Abby.
After roaming around the market for a bit, you successfully find the bathroom. You lean into the door for a moment and knock twice, hoping that you found the right one.
“It’s open,” Abby calls out from inside.
You twist the knob and open the door, just enough for you to squeeze yourself inside before closing it and turning the lock. You turn around to see Abby leaning against the vanity near the sink, arms crossed with that same stupid smirk on her face. “How’d you know it was me?” you ask her.
“Are you kidding me?” she says, taking her weight off of the vanity. “I can hear those boots of yours from miles away.”
You roll your eyes at her in response “You’re so unbelievable, you know that?” you tell her. “If my dad had lifted up that tablecloth, we would’ve been done for.”
The smirk on her face grows a little wider, and you can just visibly see it happening. “I was just trying to get a taste of something sweet, princess. That’s all I wanted.”
Her cockiness was seriously driving you over the edge right now. However, you still can’t help but get turned on by her when she acts like this.
Feeling that same sense of boldness come through you again, you take a step forward and grab her by the collar of her jacket, pulling her close to you. “Then how about you finish what you started?” you whisper out to her.
She leans in closer to you, both of your lips being just mere inches away from touching.
“Don’t mind if I do.” she whispers back to you.
You lean in to seal the gap, connecting your lips with hers in an intense kiss. Your hands remain tightly gripped on her jacket, while Abby’s hands run down your body, stopping at your hips. She then turns you around to where your back is now pressed against the marble counter.
Her lips pull away from yours for a moment to flip you around, now with your back facing her chest.
“What—What are you doing?” you ask her, trying to turn around to get a look at her.
“You said you wanted me to fuck you right, didn’t you?” she says, taking off her jacket and rolling up the long sleeves of the dark green shirt she had on. “Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Abby grabs your hips and bends you over on the counter before lifting your dress up and pushing your panties to the side again, revealing your wet pussy to her. “Jesus, she looks even wetter than before.” she mutters to herself as she gently rubs her thumb on your slit, eliciting a whine from you in response.
Abby moves her hand to herself to unbuckle her tool belt, letting it fall to the ground. She then unzips her cargo pants, pulling out the thick strap she had tucked underneath her boxers before teasing the tip of it in between your puffy folds.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp out, your pussy already starting to clench around nothing. “You brought it, didn’t you?”
Abby lets out a scoff, looking back at you through the mirror. “Of course I did. Been dying to fill this sweet pussy up ever since I first came over to your place.”
You then feel her grab ahold of the strap with one hand and position it against your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in, quietly moaning to herself as she watches your pussy engulf the tip.
A whimper escapes from your mouth as she pushes a few more inches of her cock in you, now reaching halfway. “Oh god, Abby…I-I think it's too big—“
Her other hand grabs a hold of your neck, pulling you up towards her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she says into your ear. “Is my cock too big for you? Can you not take it like a big girl?”
“N-No— I mean yes, fuck! I-I can take it, Abs…”
“That’s what I thought.” she mutters back to you, setting you back down on the marble counter as she pushes the rest of her cock inside you without warning.
She keeps her strap nestled inside you for what feels like ages, waiting for your pussy to accommodate itself to the girth of her cock. She tries to move back a bit, but your cunt keeps resisting the toy, sucking it back in.
Abby grunts in frustration and slaps your ass, the sudden sting causing you to flinch a bit. “Quit doing that. I’m not gonna be able to fuck you right if you don’t relax that cunt already.”
“F-Fuck, Abby, m’trying to, please—“
“Jesus, must I do everything myself?” she replies, reaching around your waist to rub your throbbing clit, causing you to moan in pleasure at the stimulation. Abby leans back a bit as she continues rubbing your clit, watching as your pussy visibly relaxes around her cock, now giving her the freedom to move it in and out slowly.
“There we go, just like that now, atta girl…”
Abby begins to fuck you at a painfully slow pace at first, slow to the point where you were now pushing your hips back against her as an indication for her to go faster.
“Whoa there…desperate for more now, aren’t we princess?” she says, instantly speeding up her pace. “If you wanted me to go faster, you could have just asked.”
“I-I know b-but…f-feels too good…” you slur out to her, face pressed against the cold marble as the rest of your body moves up and down with her thrusts.
“Oh, who am I kidding? You’re so drunk on my cock that you can’t even form a coherent sentence right now. Fucking slut…”
Moments later, Abby was now fucking you relentlessly fast to the point where you had to grip the counter to steady yourself. You seriously felt like you could fall off, but honestly, you could also care less about it. You were so close to reaching your peak now, and as long as Abby didn’t stop, you’d be perfectly fine.
That is until…a knock on the door interrupts the both of you.
“Occupied!” Abby calls out from inside, not stopping her pace.
“Abby? Are you in there?”
“Dad?!”
You gasp at the sound of Jerry’s voice, and Abby shushes you and quickly covers your mouth, now slowing down her pace. You whine at the sudden lack of movement, now feeling your orgasm fade away.
“Abby, what’s going on? Someone told me they saw you walk in here. Are you okay?” her dad asks with some concern.
“Y-Yeah Dad, I’m fine, I just—“ Abby stammers out for a moment as she then turns on the sink with her other hand, trying to come up with an excuse on the spot. “S-Someone dropped a cupcake on me. I-I'm trying to wash it out.”
You giggle quietly behind Abby’s hand, only for her to shush you and grab your ass harshly with the other, causing you to wince at the slight pain.
“Alright honey, just come back when you’re done, okay?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’ll be out in a bit!”
Once the sound of Jerry’s footsteps is gone, Abby lets out a sigh of relief, turning off the sink before removing her hand from your mouth.
“Almost got me caught there, princess.” she says to you, now speeding up her thrusts again. “If you pull that again, I might not let you cum at all.”
“No, fuck—please Abby, I-I’m getting close…I need you to let me cum.” you whine out to her, tightening your grip on the marble counter.
“Oh yeah? Are you getting close there, baby?” she asks, to which you nod in response.
Without stopping her thrusts, Abby grabs you by the neck with one hand, lifting your upper body up in front of the mirror so you can see her as well as yourself. “Then I want you to watch yourself cum. Watch yourself cum on my cock like the needy slut you are.”
You try your best to move or look away, but Abby simply moves your face back to the mirror with her hand. “Don’t fucking do that again. Look away one more time and I’ll pull out.”
All you could do was whine and nod in response, keeping your gaze on the mirror. Your eyes then trail down to the bottom where Abby was fucking you. You could just see her cock sliding in and out of your pussy so easily, and just the sight of it alone is making you want to cum even more.
“Oh fuck, Abby—m-gonna…m’gonna cum!” you exclaim out to her, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the tip of her strap keeps touching your g spot.
“G-go ahead, princess, cum on my cock like a good girl.” she grunts out, moving her hand to now cover your mouth.
Within seconds you cum undone onto the strap with a muffled moan, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as your cunt clenches and creams all over it. Your body quickly goes limp and static fills your brain as you try to catch your breath.
Abby then gently sets you back down on the counter before moving both of her hands down to your hips. She then slowly pulls her cock out of your pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of it.
Despite that your legs are trembling, you try to get up, but Abby keeps you down. “Wait, just give me a second…I still have one more thing left to do.” she tells you, and all you do is just nod in response, still feeling insanely drunk from your orgasm.
Abby quickly drops down to her knees and spreads your ass open, groaning at the sight of your fucked out pussy. Without hesitation, she dives into your pussy to lick you clean, taking in every single bit of your thick release into her mouth. Once she was finished, she got back up on her feet. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” she murmurs to herself, wiping her mouth with her thumb before sucking it clean, making sure she’s got every bit of you on her tongue.
Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, Abby helps you off of the counter, fixing up your underwear and dress before turning you back around to face her. “Do you think you could uh, clean me up there?” she says before looking down and back up at you, indicating for you to clean up her strap.
“Don’t mind if I do,” you tell her with a smirk, getting down on your knees to suck onto her strap, tasting yourself in the process.
Abby lets out a groan as she watches you suck her strap clean. “Fuck, you look so good like this…” she mutters out to you, running a hand through your hair. “I should make you do that more often.”
You remove your mouth from her strap with a ‘pop’ sound and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before standing up to face her. “I wouldn’t mind doing that for you.” you reply to her, leaning in to give her a quick kiss as she tucks her strap back into her pants.
“So um, should you leave first or—“
“You should go first,” you tell her, cutting off her sentence. “You’ve been gone longer. Don’t wanna keep your dad waiting anymore now.”
Abby nods in agreement, reaching down to grab her tool belt and jacket before getting back up to kiss you goodbye. “I’ll see you around, sweet girl.” she tells you before unlocking the knob and opening the door to let herself out of the bathroom, now leaving you on your own.
You wait inside for a few minutes before shutting off the lights and leaving, quickly making your way back to your table. To your surprise, you return to see your dad standing with a slice of flan in his hands. “Dad…I told you not to eat any of the pastries!”
Your dad sets the plate down and holds up his in defense. “Alright, sweetheart, you got me there.” he says in defeat before reaching out his front pocket and pulling out a five-dollar bill. “Here’s my contribution then.” he says as he hands you the five-dollar bill.
“Okay okay,” you tell him as you grab the bill from his hands. “I’ve got it from here now, Dad, thanks.”
Once you settle back into your seat, you notice your phone buzzing on the table with a text. You pick up your phone and see that the message is from Abby.
“Abby: Wild Randy’s next Saturday?”
You smile to yourself upon reading the text before looking up at her from across the room, seeing her with that same smirk on her face once again. You look back down at your phone and type out your response.
“You: I’ll be there.”
Looks like you’ve got some plans next weekend after all.
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- a/n: oh lord this one killed me to write omg. i hope y’all liked it though! let me know if i should do a part 4 (i might tbh)
merry christmas again everyone! wishing you all the best 🤍🎄
requested tags 🏷️: @whore4abby @ourautumn86 @abbyscherry @nyctophiliq @aouiaa @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @echostinn @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @mochiivqi @floptron @swtsuna @naomis-daydream @hunnybunnyhazel @paprikahoernchen @bbglmfao @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @littlegingerperson @ur-fav-pixi @abbysgirlll
(striked means i couldn’t tag 😔)
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1K notes · View notes
arminsumi · 8 months
Note
can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)
love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗
AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟
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NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3
🔞 mdni / 18+ content
SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.
WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship
SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am
Wordcount ≈ 2.3k
Playme ♪ wet dreamz
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.
Where are my hands supposed to go?
He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.
This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.
All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.
Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.
But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.
He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.
The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.
How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.
Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”
“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.
His stomach flipped.
“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.
Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.
“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.
You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.
“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.
“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.
“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.
He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.
“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.
He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.
But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.
And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.
“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.
His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.
“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.
“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.
His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.
“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”
He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”
Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally
“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”
Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.
“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.
So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”
You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.
“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.
You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.
“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”
His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.
When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.
“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.
To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.
But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.
“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.
“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.
Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.
You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?
“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.
“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”
He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.
“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.
“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.
“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.
“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.
“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.
You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.
Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.
Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.
“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.
“Fuck.” You agreed.
“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”
“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.
“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”
You laughed with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.
“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”
“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.
“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”
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2K notes · View notes
andvys · 4 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 28
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Warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of cheating, betrayal, heartbreak, break up's
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | mentions of Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve goes down memory lane.
Word count: 4.8k+
series masterlist
-
Steve is pacing around his dark room, feeling restless and dejected. His house is empty, no one but him occupying the empty and lifeless spaces. It’s quiet – despite the TV being on in his room, it’s quiet, too quiet. He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, so lonely and sad. 
He blames it on the previous night, when his backyard was filled with life and laughter, when you were here, when you sat beside him, laughed at his jokes, talked to him. 
He blames it on the leather band that is now adorning his right wrist, the words that are engraved into it, taking him back to a better and much easier time, when you were still children, when you were still friends, when the pain wasn’t anywhere near yet. 
He blames it on the perfume that now lingers on the shirt he had worn last night, you hugged him when you said goodbye and he couldn’t find it in himself to wash it yet.
He blames it on the box that is standing beside his bed, the one that Nancy had found on the night of their breakup. 
He blames it on the guilt and the regret he still feels so deep inside his soul. 
Every time he is with you, he gets taken back to the night he had made the biggest mistake before it skips to the night back in December, when he shouldn’t have let you go, when he shouldn’t have let you let him go.
Every time he is with you, he can’t make sense of what was going on in his head when he decided to throw it all away, when he decided to break your heart. He didn’t want her. He never did. He wanted you, it was always you. But he was afraid, so deeply insecure that he let his fears guide him. He always searched for your dark side, not seeing that there wasn’t one, that it was him, only him and his dark thoughts – you would leave him sooner or later, right? You would leave and find someone better. And, you would forget all about him. You would realize that you never loved him as much as you thought you did. You would forget all about him. He would be nothing but a faceless memory. Steve couldn’t bear to stand that thought, so he left first, thinking that that would be easier. It wasn’t. It isn’t. 
He stops pacing and for a moment, he looks out the window, watching the rain crash harshly onto the pavement in his driveway. Lightning surges through the sky and thunder rumbles loudly. He takes a deep breath, eyes following the rain drops slipping down the window. 
He wonders where you are, right now. 
Are you alone? 
Are you with him? 
He almost wants to laugh at the irony. Around this time, last year, these were probably your thoughts. 
Is he alone? 
Is he with her?
He can hear your voice, those questions that must’ve gone through your mind when he started skipping date nights with you to spend time with her. When he stopped calling you, every night. 
Now he thinks about you. 
About you with Eddie. 
He saw the way you looked at him when he talked about the girls he had been with, he saw the way your eyes flashed with pain, the way you looked so crestfallen for a moment before the anger crossed your face. For a brief moment you looked at Eddie the way you looked at him on Halloween night. 
It made him realize something that he kept ignoring desperately. 
Steve knew that there was more than friendship between you and Eddie. He knew that Eddie fell for you. He was hoping that you wouldn’t fall for him, but you did, it happened long ago, already. You were blind to it and Steve didn’t want to see it. 
And now he can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been torturing him since last night. 
Despite all the things that happened between you both, despite the distance and the months of silence before you let him back into your life – Steve still had hope that he would get another chance with you. Maybe it was his delusions that kept telling him that, maybe it was his heart that kept feeding him with hope because after all this time, it is still yearning for you. Or maybe, it’s the lingering touches and the looks you are still giving him, the energy between you both, the love that has never gone away. 
The hope inside of him dwindled the second he saw the betrayal in your eyes, last night. 
Sick of his feelings and his thoughts, he decides to distract himself by cleaning his room. He turns off the TV and turns on the music instead – Back to the old house by The Smiths starts playing. 
After taking a look around his room, he starts off by taking the sheets off and throwing them into the washer.
He gathers all the magazines that are laying all across his desk, and walks over to his bookshelf, he throws the magazines into the box that he keeps on the lowest shelf. His eyes fall on one of the books that he has yet to give you back – Pride and Prejudice. He must have read the book five times already, reading it makes him feel closer to you. He remembers all the times he walked in on you with your nose stuck in that book, you really loved it and he really loved watching you read it – how your eyes lit up, how your brows would furrow and your lips would curl into a smile. 
With a sigh he tears his eyes away from it. 
He wipes down the desk and his nightstand next, ignoring the picture of you, him and Robin that he had framed a while back. He pays no mind to the box on the floor or anything else that reminds him of you and for a few minutes, it works. 
He organizes his closet, throwing out clothes that he no longer wears. The old shoeboxes on the ground that hold memories from his childhood and early school days. He doesn’t dare to peek inside, knowing that there will be reminders of a friendship he once had with you – a friendship that could never come close to the one you have now. 
He dusts off the shelves, puts new sheets on his duvet and his pillows, vacuums the carpets and throws out the trash.
He looks around his room, sighing when he looks at the clock – 1am. He isn’t tired, not even close to it, and all he can think about is you… still. He runs his fingers through his hair and sits down on his bed. 
The storm has passed but it’s still raining and Steve feels restless, just as he did all day. He looks at the pile of clothes that he has yet to put away into a box. A jacket that he hasn’t worn in years lies on the very top. His brows knit together and his eyes flash with curiosity when he notices the white paper that peeks out of the pocket. 
He gets up and walks towards it, leaning down, he reaches for the folded paper. He turns it around, a smile appears on his face when he recognizes your handwriting. –  For Stevie 
Without even hesitating to, he unfolds it and walks back towards his bed, sitting down. For a moment, he stares at the words on the paper that you ripped out of your notebook – the one you always carried around, the one you had written all your little poems in, the one you had used to write him little notes during class, the one he gave you when you were fifteen. He got it at a bookstore in Indianapolis, when his parents took him there for a weekend. The pink leather and the cherries adorning the little book reminded him of you, he had to get it. 
He licks his lips, a sad look flashing across his face when he realizes just how old the note is. It’s from October 1982. 
Remember when I told you that I’d be much more popular than you someday, Stevie? Well, guess who just got accepted into the cheer team! 
It’s only a matter of time before I become cheer captain – make some space, King Steve, I am so stealing your crown and your throne. 
P.S. Thanks for convincing me to go to tryouts! You should finally take me to one of those parties you always go to! :) 
His lips curl into a smile, he remembers that day, he remembers it so well.
You were beaming at him when you passed him that note, your eyes were shining, your smile was big. You were so excited and he was too, he was excited for you. He remembers the note he wrote back to you. 
Make some space? You’re getting your own crown and throne, honey. What’s a king without his queen anyways? 
P.S. Are you asking me out on a date? Isn’t it my job to ask you? :)
He remembers the way your cheeks flushed, the way your eyes widened and you started blushing. You blinked as you stared at the note. The way you turned to look at him with a shy smile on your lips, while he looked at you with a smirk on his face – as though he wasn’t freaking out on the inside. His heart was racing and his stomach churned at the thought that he might have overstepped. He liked you, he always liked you and he was always afraid to mess things up with you, to ruin your friendship by taking the leap and just kissing you the way he always wanted to, by asking you out on a date, by asking you to become something more than just a best friend. He wanted you to be his – even when you were nothing but clueless little kids, he wanted you to be his princess. 
He wonders if you kept that note – if you kept any of the notes he had written back to you. Or if you threw them all away when he broke your heart and dumped you like you never meant anything to him. 
He kept them all, every little note that you had written to him, he kept it. 
He folds the note back together and puts it on his nightstand before he gets up, walking towards the box that holds all your belongings, he sits down on the ground, not looking into the box just yet. 
He knows he shouldn’t do this, he knows he shouldn’t rip open old wounds, he shouldn’t let them bleed again. He’s been hurting enough already, but he can’t help it – he wants to go down memory lane, he needs to. 
He looks at the collection of polaroids first, the ones of you before your relationship, when you were just best friends. He picks out the one of you, just you. You in your cheerleader uniform, a green scrunchie in your hair, an excited look on your face as you hold up the pom poms and smile into the picture that he had taken of you. 
He remembers the way his heart was fluttering in his chest, the way it skipped a beat when he saw you in that uniform for the very first time, the way you hugged him and thanked him over and over again for convincing you to join the team – only because you loved the green uniform so much. It makes him laugh, you really liked the uniform more than you did cheerleading itself – nonetheless, you were the best cheerleader on the team, the best cheer captain. 
He blinks as he stares at that picture for a long time – you looked so happy, so carefree. Not a single bad thought was on your mind, your heart was still so full of hope and love, your eyes showed nothing but pure joy. Your heart wasn’t broken yet. 
He can’t believe that he was the one to take that happiness away from you. 
His eyes well up with tears but he blinks them away, putting the picture down. 
The next picture is one that you took of him when he wasn’t paying attention, he was wearing a christmas sweater, his face covered in flour, his brows furrowed, he looked concentrated as he was decorating christmas cookies – Stevie, December 1982. You drew hearts around his name. 
With sadness in his heart, he continues to flip through the pictures that you both had taken over the years. Some of them make him smile, some of them make him want to cry. 
The note he finds next takes him back to the night when he had first kissed you.
It was one of the best nights. 
The snow was falling, you were both smiling. Your hand was shaking not from the cold but from all the excitement. 
He had taken you home after your first date – he gave you everything, he could. He did everything to make your very first date a perfect one, a special one. He took you to Enzo’s, and now that he thinks about it, he understands why the elderly couple who sat at the table next to you were giggling and looking over at the two of you as they talked in hushed whispers, you were both so young to be at a restaurant like that, but it was nice, it was perfect. You were both in your own world, unaware of anything that was going around you. 
He should have never left that world. 
You looked at him like he was the best thing that was ever created. You looked at him with stars in your eyes and a smile that never looked happier than it did that night. You leaned into his touch when he cupped your cheek, you giggled when he removed that snowflake that landed on the tip of your nose. 
He felt so happy that night. His heart was so full of love. He couldn’t stop staring at you. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. 
He didn’t want to do it on the first date, he wanted to wait. But he couldn’t. Not when his heart was screaming at him to finally do it, not when you looked at him like that, not when he felt like it was the only thing he was ever meant to do. 
You were standing in your driveway, inching closer and closer to each other and then, he kissed you. 
He kissed you under the falling snow. 
And it was perfect, it was everything. 
The start of something beautiful – before he ruined it all. 
Quiet sniffles sound through the room, the music stopped playing a long time ago, the rain is still falling, just like his tears that start to roll down his cheeks as he continues to read your notes, tracing every word written. 
The notes and letters from the start of your relationship are so filled with love, happiness that shines through simple words, sentences that make his heart soar and hurt so badly, at the same time. You were happy with him, and you loved him, you truly loved him. He can even feel it through old letters and pictures. 
Was there ever a reason to doubt you? 
Was there ever a reason to doubt the love you had for him? 
Was there ever a reason to think that you could ever leave him? 
No. 
Truly, there was never a single reason for him to believe that you would ever hurt him, that you would ever leave him.  
You gave him your everything, even on your worst days, you gave him more than you should have. You gave him unconditional, undying love. You made him happy and smiled through your own sadness when he wasn’t feeling well and you continued giving even when he was taking so much from you. 
And as the months had passed, the words on the ripped out pages began to sound more desperate. Sadder and more heartbreaking as you begged for his love, not knowing that Steve had left the little world you got stuck in. While you were still holding onto something that had died, he was already in a whole different world – one of hatred and self loathing, one that led him to ruin something that was once so dear to him. 
Something that started with a true romance, a love so pure and real turned into something cruel – false promises, empty words and lies became his and your reality. He held your heart and he kept ripping it apart, piece by piece. He hurt you so badly. He accused you of things that you had never done, he gave you the cold shoulder whenever his dark thoughts fed him lies about you, he treated you so unkindly. 
And yet, you never loved him any less.
You still looked at him with love in your eyes. You still searched for his touch, for his warmth. You still wanted him around, even on days when he had been nothing but cruel and awful to you, you still wanted him. You just wanted your boyfriend. You just wanted him to love you and he did. He really did but even through his selfishness, he could see how the light was fading in your eyes, how sadness was a bigger emotion in you than happiness was, how the love you had for him was making you miserable because all he did was hurt you and all you did was love him. 
And then, she stepped into his life and something in him changed. 
They met up at the library twice to study. The third time he took her to the diner and then the coffee shop downtown. By the fifth time, he had sneaked into her room but that was long after the project was over. 
The miserable feeling that he caused himself wasn’t there whenever he was with her. She made him smile again, she made him laugh and she made him forget – she distracted him and blinded him from all his pain and guilt. She distracted him enough for him to stop calling you to say ‘goodnight’ or ‘I love you’, something that he would’ve done weeks before he had met her. 
You never knew about the things he had done. You never knew that he was sneaking around with her behind your back. He would tell you that he was with Tommy but in reality, he was taking her out to diners and the movies, he would take her back to his place – sometimes the phone would ring and he would ignore it, he knew it was you, no one else ever called. He ignored the awful feeling that was nestled deep inside him, he ignored his heart that was screaming at him, he ignored, risked and sacrificed everything for a moment of bliss with Nancy – as though she or anything else could ever make him stop thinking about you. 
You were unaware of everything that was happening behind your back. While he was loving on another girl, you were writing love notes to him. 
He never touched her, he never kissed her, he never cheated on you, but what he did was just as bad. He betrayed you, he broke your heart and he dumped you while you were still holding onto him. 
You kept loving him. You kept slipping notes into his pockets, into his books, into his locker. You were longing for his love, for his touch, for the affection he had once given you. And you never let go of the hope that he would love you again. You kept trying and trying to take things back to the way they were before. 
But you were losing him to a girl he didn’t even love. 
Steve feels nauseous, his stomach churns as he stares at all the things in front of him, all the love notes, all the pictures, all the things that belong to you. He takes a look at what he ruined. 
How many nights have you spent crying while he was out there wasting time with her? 
He hates himself, he hates himself so much. 
He remembers the notes you had written to him when he was already seeing her. He remembers the way your face fell when he didn’t unfold the paper right away, the way he normally would have done. He remembers the look in your eyes and the way your smile fell. The way you kept sneaking glances at him during class, waiting for a note back, only to find out that that was the beginning of the end. 
He didn’t write you any notes anymore. 
But you kept writing them. 
You kept looking at him with love in your eyes even when he was doing nothing but make you cry. 
You kept kissing his cheek and whispered ‘I love you, Stevie’ whenever he dropped you off at home, not knowing that Nancy sat in the passenger seat, all the nights before. 
You kept trying. 
And he kept ruining. 
Tears stream down his face, falling down onto the note that he is holding in his hand, staining the paper and the ink. He feels the regret, the guilt, the pain of what he had done to you, as though it just happened. 
He felt sadness and guilt before, but never like this. He had never allowed himself to feel it all. 
Now all he can think about is how much he truly hurt the person that meant everything to him – that still means everything to him. The only one he truly loved. 
He is not the same person he used to be. He is not a foolish boy anymore. He wouldn’t hurt you like this now but he can’t undo anything. He can’t take things back, he can’t make it up to you, no matter what he does, no matter what he tries to do, he can’t make up for the things he had done to you. 
Through his tears, he looks at the last item in the box, an old magazine. He takes it out, eying it through his blurry vision. He flips through the pages, about to throw it on the ground before him when something falls out from between the pages, landing on his lap. 
He sniffles, frowning as he looks at the folded paper – another note. Unlike all the other ones, he doesn’t seem to recognize this one. He had never seen it before. Dread rushes through him. 
You always hid the notes in obvious places – this one isn’t very obvious. This was your magazine. 
He turns it around, his name is written on it, just like on all the others, but he can’t remember reading it. 
Did you put the note into the magazine, hoping that he would find it someday? 
Did you even put it in there or did he do it himself because he no longer cared about the words written to him? 
He wipes his tears away, taking slow but steady breaths as he unfolds it, noticing how much bigger this note is than any of the other ones he had read. His heart starts beating faster as his eyes skim over the letter. 
His throat feels tight, his chest feels heavy – a part of him doesn’t even want to read it, it’s in the past, it shouldn’t matter anymore, right? …. But it does, it still matters. 
So, after a few deep breaths he starts reading. 
I’m sure you’re sick of these notes and letters, it’s been a while since you wrote one back to me, it’s been 6 weeks actually. I don’t know why I even bother anymore, you don’t even seem to want them. I’m pretty sure that you don’t even read them anymore. You used to be so excited about them, now you just don’t care anymore. I don’t even know if you still care about me or us. 
You don’t talk to me as much as you used to. I never know what you do or where you are. I keep leaving the window open for you, hoping that you’ll come but you don’t, you never do anymore. And I can’t look away from the fact that something has changed between us. I tried to look away, I really did because I didn’t want to see how your eyes no longer search for me but for her. I kept ignoring things, I kept telling myself what I wanted to hear and closed my eyes to what was happening in front of me. I kept holding onto the past, onto the love you once had for me, I kept holding onto the promises you had made because I wanted to believe that you wouldn’t lie to me but you changed, we changed. 
But maybe this is just me overthinking, maybe nothing is wrong, maybe you still want me, maybe you still love me. I hope you do. I hope you still love me, Steve. I don’t want to live in a world where we aren’t together. 
I hope that you will tell me that you still love me. I hope that you will hold me again the way you used to. I hope that things can go back to the way they were before. 
If you’re reading this, I love you. 
Steve’s eyes are red and bloodshot already but the tears won’t stop falling, the sadness spreads inside of him like a sickness. His heart feels so heavy in his chest. 
A sob threatens to fall from his lips when he reads the date on the back of the note. 
October, 30th 1984 
You wrote it the day before he broke your heart. 
You wrote it knowing that you were losing him. 
You wrote it in hopes that he still loved you and that he still wanted you, not knowing that he would shatter your heart a day later. 
His heart never felt heavier than it does now. It’s hurting and bleeding, not for himself but for you. 
All he can think about is the look on your face, the pain and the sadness in your eyes, the absolute heartbreak. 
But he also remembers the acceptance. You didn’t question him. You didn’t ask him to repeat those words. You didn’t ask ‘why’. You only nodded at his words and said ‘okay’ and that was it. He never understood it. He understands it now. 
That moment was when you realized that you weren’t overthinking, after all. That there was something wrong. His words, his lies confirmed your words on the note.
He shattered a heart that was already broken – a heart that he kept breaking for months and months, only to crush it completely at the very end. All the tears you have shed, all the sadness you had felt, all the pain he had caused – he was making you suffer. 
His tears keep falling on the note, ruining the ink on the paper. 
With shaky hands, he drops it on the floor and he buries his face in his hands, allowing himself to let go and cry. He wishes that he could think of better moments. He wishes that he could go back to that night and change it all. He wishes he could go back to the night of your first kiss. 
The night when the light in your eyes still shined, the smile that played on your lips, the wind that blew through your hair, the way you looked at him, the way it felt to kiss the love of his life. 
That moment was so unlike the one on Halloween, last year. 
He didn’t only break your heart, he also broke you. 
And yet, you are still here. 
You are still here. 
You never left. 
You always stayed, no matter what. 
No matter the fights, no matter the pain, no matter the betrayal and the heartbreak. You are still here. 
You stayed. 
And you never planned on leaving.
Tears roll down his cheeks, the sobs fall from his lips, his body is shaking from sadness and anger, self hatred and pain. 
Right now, he wants nothing more than to feel your touch, to feel your arms around him, to hear your soothing voice, to hug you and hold you and never let go, but all he can do is wrap his hand around the wristband on his right arm and hold it against his chest – the only thing that makes him feel closer to you. He wouldn’t deserve to feel your touch. He doesn’t deserve you. He never did. 
His world comes crashing down when that realization hits him so harshly. 
He was trying. 
He was ready to fight for you, he was ready to fight for a second chance. 
But the only right thing to do is to let you go, the way you asked him to months ago when you said goodbye to him in your driveway. 
He knows it is the right thing to do and yet, he can’t fight the feeling in his heart that still longs for you. 
A heart that will always long for you. 
-
tagging friends & mutuals
@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @hellfire--cult @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @succubusmunson @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan
572 notes · View notes
dilfl0v3rss · 10 months
Text
poison
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summary: ony was a known player. women have practically threw themselves at him in hopes that they’d be the one to make him “change”, but they never succeed. he finally met his match when he started messing with you…
cw: toxic!reader, toxic!ony, smoking, smut
word count: 3.6k
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onyankopon wasn’t the type of man to chase. he wasn’t the man that would go above and beyond or make a woman feel like she could never be replaced. ony believed women were for the moment, having nothing to them that made him yearn for more. he’d be with a women one night and be moved on and ready for another women victim the next.
“man how you just gon block keisha like that? she bad as hell” connie said as he and ony rolled up on his couch. the darkskin male just laughed, shaking his head as he closed out her instagram profile and began looking through the hundreds of other women in his dms. “i already fucked, and it was like every other pussy i put my dick in. she pretty tho” connie shook his head in disappointment as he continued to crush up the weed between his fingers.
ony had no problem settling down, or so he said, but he just doesn’t think the women he’s been with were the right ones. leaving each of their houses without so much as a “goodbye” before deleting them from his phone and from his life completely. “don’t shake your head at me nigga. you be doing it too” ony laughed as he watched his friend place his hand on his heart. a shocked expression on his face as he played offended by the accusation. “it’s not the same and you know it. i at least talk to em from time t’time. you delete em and have em going crazy over you” all ony did was shrug his shoulders, continuing to roll up his blunt without trying to defend himself.
“lemme just take you out t’dinner then. m’tryna get t’know you ma” the brunette said as you sat in the passenger seat of his his hellcat. you were only here for some free weed, using your beauty to your advantage as you batted your lashes and bounced your tiddies while laughing at every terrible joke this man tried to crack. “can i think about it? ima very busy girl” your sultry voice made eren’s palms sweat as he handed you the baggy full of weed. you had this man whipped and he hasn’t even ever fucked you. “alright mama jus lemme know, and i put a lil extra in there f’you. witcho fine ass” he mumbled his last sentence as he watched your ass move in your shorts while getting out the car. you turned around slowly, kissing your hand before blowing it to him. your sparkly clear lipgloss making your lips pop as you gave eren a cute smile.
as soon as he drove off your act dropped. an annoyed look quickly fell on your face as you rolled your eyes. “corny ass nigga” you mumbled as you made your way into your house. these men where too easy when it came to you. always gravitating towards your pretty face and how you carried yourself like a “good girl”. you were nice to everybody, and everybody was nice to you. when you would find yourself messing with a guy, it was never for long. as soon as you got what you needed there was always an excuse on the tip of your tongue.
“m’going through a lot right now”
“i gotta focus on my classes more”
“i need time to heal from my past”
it was honestly the easiest thing in the world. and since you were so nice these niggas had no choice but to put respect on your name no matter what.
you quickly made your way to your room, turning on your led lights to purple as you got out your tray, papers, grinder, and your freshly “bought” bag of weed. “let’s get this shit started” you said as you turned on your tv.
as ony looked through his phone he noticed a freshly posted story from your account. he thought nothing of it as he clicked it. eyes widening at the sight of your other stories throughout the day. there was picture after picture of your beautiful body in a sundress. posing with a hand on your knee as you bent over slightly in the mirror. the next photo was you in a tube top and mini skirt. your big brown eyes looking away from the camera with a finger on your lip as if you were thinking. “jesus” ony mumbled. why hasn’t he ever seen you before?
connie leaned over and looked the the picture. “oh that’s y/n. she fine as hell ain’t she? been tryna get on that for months” his best friend said before taking a hit from his blunt. ony was intrigued. you were one of the sexiest girls he’s ever seen. “why ian ever seen her?” he mumbled as he continued to go through your stories. “that’s ‘cause she a good girl. she don’t party, don’t be fighting bitches over dick, nun of that. she be in her books and chilling” connie’s words brought excitement to ony’s body as he looked at your latest post.
you were in your bed with ed, edd, and eddy playing on your tv. your beautiful brown legs crossed, nails and feet looking freshly done as you held a fat blunt in between your fingers. ‘in my own little world’ the story captioned with poison by brent faiyaz playing softly in the background. ony’s fingers moved before he could think, swiping up on the post before typing you a quick message.
a ding from your phone brought your attention away from your cartoons. ‘must be eren’ you thought as you took a deep sigh before opening your phone. you were right, but there was another message after his.
onyahead replied to your story: let me join that lil world
you have heard plenty about onyankopon. the 90s fine dark skin that had a thing for breaking girls hearts. never seen with a girl, but constantly in the middle of drama when women are at each others throats over a man. he was no good. a liar, a sweet talker, and most of all… a player. but still you replied.
prettybrowny/n: i’d rather not have a mob of girls coming to burn my shit down.
you threw your phone to the side, giggling to yourself as you continued to watch your shows. less than ten minutes later, you heard another ding from your phone.
onyahead: don’t be like that ma. i’m just tryna smoke
what? did he think you were dumb or something? this man was clearly not “just tryna smoke” and that was obvious. it was nearly one in the morning. but still you replied.
prettybrowny/n: send your # and i’ll drop my lo
you weren’t like these other women he’s been with. you didn’t want the same things from him as they wanted. it was late and you were bored. eren gave you so much weed that it wouldn’t hurt to share, and at the end of the day onyankopon was nothing more to you than a man. a very fine, well known man, but still just a man. and at the end of the night you still expected to see him as such.
a smile graced ony’s face as he rose from connie’s couch. he quickly grabbed his hoodie before making his was towards the door. “where you goin? i just rolled two more” connie said. ony looked back at him, a sly smirk adorning his features as he twisted the doorknob. “finna go fuck on the good girl.” all that was heard from connie were loud gasps before ony left the house, putting your address in his gps as he approached his black srt challenger.
‘know you ride it right. i might jus die tonight’
‘but you know i’m still coming through baby’
you changed the lights in your room to red as you waited for him to arrive. rolling up two more fat blunts as you hummed along to your favorite song.
‘i know it's bad for me. and you know it tastes so sweet.’
‘i think i need your abuse baby’
ony was happy to see that you only lived ten minutes from connie. checking himself in his mirror before exiting his car and making his way to your front door. after he knocked on the door he saw a glimpse of your beautiful figure through the window. cami top on without a bra, booty shorts so tight he was almost certain he’d see some of your ass spilling out if you turned around, and your pretty gold anklet shining as you walked towards the door.
you looked up at him with your big brown eyes. your clear glasses reflecting your porch light as you spoke. “hi” you said quietly before moving to the side so he could enter. you closed the door behind him before leading him deeper into the house. “where we smoking at” ony’s deep voice made your stomach flip as you swayed your hips as you walked, already knowing he was looking at your ass. “my room”
‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it ,yea i love you’
‘ain’t nothing better for me now’
“welcome to my lil world” your pretty voice caressed his ears as he walked towards your bed. he thanked the lord he wore sweats as he laid down on his back. waistband hanging low on his hips, happy trial showing as he put his hands behind his head. his hood was up, covering his grey durag. your eyes traveled up and down his body, repeatedly stopping at his waistband. this man wasn’t wearing boxers. “you gon stare or you gon smoke me out?” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you slowly sit in the middle of the bed before picking up the blunt.
‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it, yea i love you’
‘ain’t nothing better for me now’
ony moved closer to you laying down almost right next to you as he watched you put the blunt to your lips. “i rolled you your own ‘cause i got lipgloss on” you gave him a confused look at the chuckle he gave you. “what?” ony gave you a small smirk, your stomach doing flips as you noticed the gold grills adorning his pearly white teeth. “ion care bout that. we can share. make it last longer” you gave him a small nod before trying to start up your lighter. ‘why you gotta break now’ you thought as you repeatedly flicked the lighter just for nothing to come out. another chuckle rumbled from his chest before ony dug in his pocket for his lighter. his big tattooed hand made its way towards your face before he held the fire on the end of your blunt. “gotchu ma” he mumbled as he watched the smoke begin to rise into the air.
you took the first hit, letting the calming drug run all through your system. ony watched tv as you smoked, paying you no mind as he waited for you to rotate to him. you did the same after passing him the blunt, shifting your body towards the screen as you sat on your knees. ony took this as the time to ogle you. like he thought, your ass was spilling from the bottom of your shorts. what he wasn’t expecting was the pretty dermal piercings on your lower back. the diamonds twinkling at him as if they were begging for him to rub his thumbs along them. “how long you had these?” he mumbled to you, making you turned around before following his gaze. “oh. ehhh about a year now” you said before turning back towards the tv.
ony leaned up, sitting next to you as he continued to shamelessly stare at the front of your body now. perky brown breasts, pudgy little stomach, thick thighs, and a pretty face. you were his poison.
‘angel of the night. down between your thighs’
‘i’m still here. ain’t no excuse baby’
you felt him stare at you, but kept facing forward. fighting back the urge to shy away from his gaze as you fidgeted with your fingers. this man was something else. it was like he wanted you to eat you, but you wanted to stay strong. ‘i’m not like them. i’m smarter’ you thought to yourself as you took a deep breath and turned towards him. “you chieffing it nigga” you giggled as you went to grab the blunt from him, but ony moved his hand away. putting it in his other hand which on the other side of his body. “gotta come get it if you want it mama. ion do hand outs”
his voice brought a certain tingle in your nether regions, making you have to take a deep breath before doing what you where about to do. you reached across his body, purposely putting an arch in your back as you slowly looked him in the eye while plucking the blunt from his fingers. the two of you stayed still for a while, looking into each others eyes.
‘i see you in my sleep. i'm scarred beyond belief’
‘ain’t nothing you can't make me do, baby’
ony was the first to move, sliding his free hand down your back before letting it slowly smooth down your ass. the dark skin and ink of his hands contrasting with the light pink fabric of your shorts. “so pretty” he mumbled, loving the way you shied away from his gaze at the compliment. he was breaking you down, but you were doing the same to him. heart beating rapidly in his chest as ony looked at your beautiful breasts peaking at him from your top.
‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it, yea i love you’
‘ain’t nothing better for me now’
you followed his eyes down to your top before slowly moving off of him. blunt now in your mouth as you inhaled deeply. ony watched you, brown eyes never moving from your face as he let you blow smoke on his. you admired him some more, feeling a your breath hitch as you noticed the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. ony saw you staring, smirking as he thought it’d be nice to tease you. “you want it baby?” you mindlessly nod your head, the effects of the weed starting to get to you as you quickly covered your mouth and began shaking your head “n-no”.
“s’okay mama. i wanna give it t’you. can i?” this man is good. you know he has no intention of keeping in contact with you after tonight, keeping his voice soft to bend you to his will as he used faux kindness. if you were any other girl you would’ve fell for it immediately. but if you weren’t then why were you letting him move your stuff from your mattress to your bedside table? and why were you letting him lay you down on your back? big inked hands making quick work of removing your shorts, before ony smiled down at your pretty pussy.
‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it, yea i love you’
‘ain’t nothing better for me now…than your poison baby’
ony quickly removed his hoodie and shirt before setting between your thighs. his brown eyes looked up at your for the “okay” to begin and you let him in a heartbeat. you don’t think you’ve ever gotten better head in your life. ony was skilled with his tongue, running it all over your pussy sloppily before he sucked softly on your clit. he repeated the motion over and over again, getting rougher and rougher with you until your back was arching from the bed. your hand flew to his head, holding him there as you began to grind on his face. ony seen no problem with this, wanting you to get as much pleasure as you wanted right now. “m’gonna cum ony. fuck m’gonna make a mess”
ony looked up at you before snaking his hands up your body. he lifted your shirt to free your pretty breasts before squeezing them in each of his hands. “gon head. make a mess on daddy face” your body didn’t stand a chance against him. a loud whine was released from your lips as you came all over ony’s face, wetting his mustache and anchor beard. “good girl” his praises went straight to your core, making your arousal build up again as he slowly pulled down his sweats until his dick sprang free. now you could understand why women would fight and throw themselves at this man. he was very well equipped. a thick vein running up the underside of his dick as his bounced up and down before you. he was not only long, but incredibly thick, making you wince as he began to line himself up with your entrance.
‘girl you know i play my role when i’m inside that’
ony noticed the worry in your eyes. “relax babygirl. i would never hurt you” he say lowly, letting you grip his hand as tight as you needed while he sunk deep into your walls. he gave you time to adjust, keeping your fingers intertwined as he began slowly stroking you. “how it feel ma? does it hurt” his soft voice made you want to melt into the sheets, eyes already rolling back as you felt his dick kiss all the right places inside of you. ony noticed your lack of reply, chuckling as he watched how fucked out you already were. he continued to talk you through your daze, only stopping to give you light kisses on your neck.
“feel so good mama”
“takin me like a good girl”
“you like bein my good girl don’t you?”
the praised just kept on coming and before you knew it, his large inked hand was wrapped around your throat while ony began to pound you into the mattress. the sudden change in pace made your legs shake at he began to hit you so deep you were seeing stars. “how it feel baby?”
‘with my hands around your throat. i know you like that’
ony felt your release coming, the tightness of you walls making him have to close his eyes as he continued fucking into you. “s-so good daddy. feels so g-good” your moans were music to his ears as he started quickly rubbing his thumb all over your clit. “then make a mess f’me. show me how good daddy make you feel” you listened to him instantly, your release quickly rushing out of you and all over the both of your stomachs as ony fucked you through your orgasm. “good girl mama”
‘girl i’ll do anything’
before you knew it, ony had flipped you onto your stomach. strong hands lifting you up by your waist before he sunk back into you again. “it’s my turn now ‘kay?” your eyes widened in shock at his words.
‘you mean to tell me that whole time everything was just for me? this man is a problem.’
you thought as you felt ony begin to roughly fuck you into the mattress. both inked hands, pushing your back down as he began to angle his hips downward to keep hitting your favorite spots.
“you feel it mama? feel daddy in your tummy?” ony groaned as he felt you clench at his words. he left kissing along the back of your neck before he pulled you up slightly by your hair. “say my name baby” spit dripped from your mouth to the sheets as you listened to the filthy words that came out of ony’s mouth. “say who fucking this pussy so good”. the way he was fucking you, you were glad to say his name. replying to the best of your ability as you felt him kiss your g spot. “onyyyy. o-on-yyyy fucking this pussy so g-good. feel so good daddy” you screamed as you felt ony’s dick kiss your cervix. “that’s right mama. now cum with me. wet my dick while daddy fills this pussy up.”
‘to hear you scream my name. i love your game’
‘i do…..i do’
the two of you came together. your release tricking down your thighs as ony gave you three more strokes before stilling inside you, filling you with his hot cum. he let you catch your breath before slowly pulling out and laying on his back. his strong arms lifting you onto his chest before he said something he never imagined he’d say in his life. “do you want me to spend the night with you?”
‘girl you do damage to me’
when ony woke up he was met with an empty bed, the sound of the shower running signaling to him it was time to go. he made quick work of getting dressed and before he knew it he was out the door, walking tiredly to his car. as he pulled off he contemplating blocking you. your pussy was one he’s never had before. your moans were like music, and your beauty was unmatched. but still he felt like he needed to block you. so with that being said he pulled out his phone, searching your account on instagram so he can do what needed to be done, but his jaw dropped at the realization that your account was nowhere to be found. while he was asleep you room you made the executive decision of blocking him before he even got the chance to block you. ony smiled at your cleverness, but you were “not clever enough mama”
‘but i love it babe’
as you got out of the shower, you heard the sound of your phone dinging. ‘must be eren’ you thought before picking up the device. it wasn’t eren this time…your jaw dropped as you looked at the name on your phone.
snapchat: onyaheaddd sent a chat!
ony💯: i’ll be back over tonight. i forgot my hoodie.
‘oh you’re poisonous baby’
1K notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 1 year
Text
Crush
Genre: fluff
Word count: 6k
Summary: you like peter, he doesn't get it. until you confide in spider-man
i hope you guys like this, i've been really really busy at work but i'm working on my other fic i promise.
You didn’t know Peter Parker was Spider-Man. 
To be fair, no one really knew. Tony Stark knew because he knows everything, May knows because she walked in on him in the suit, so did Ned, and MJ found out on her own, because, well, she knows everything. So enter in you, a girl who moved into the city and got into a smart kid school. Almost immediately you befriended MJ, you sat next to her in English and noticed her head stuck in a book. You leaned over into her space, you saw her tense up and smiled at her eyes peeking at you through the corners.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m new here and I want to die in a falling elevator, what about you?” 
MJ peered at you and smirked, she stuck out a hand to shake yours.
“Hi, I’m MJ. I’m old here and I’m still trying to decide.” 
You two have been friends since. 
“No, you’re not getting it Ned! I dare you to ask Betty, that is if she’ll still talk to you.” Peter grinned at his friend and laughed when Ned threw a spork at him. Ned and Betty were in their usual weekly dispute, usually something dumb but slightly significant. 
“Are you just mad I have a girlfriend that gets mad at me?” Ned teased back. He did feel like he had the upper hand, being honest he always thought Peter would have all his firsts, well, first. But Ned was collecting the firsts while Peter kept to himself. 
Peter scoffed at the assumption, “No way man, If I was a boyfriend I would never pick a fight. I’d be a good boy and listen.” He hummed and shot his eyes to yours, you were already looking at him. 
“Right, Y/N?” He shot a wink at you and you froze, was that real? Was he actually talking to you? 
Peter Parker is beautiful. You’re not sure when you liked him, actually you think you always have. The second you met him you felt pulled to him, you couldn’t stay away from him. Subconsciously you walked the longer loop around the school to peek at him at his locker, and you always laughed at his jokes, and you made constant eye contact when you weren’t staring at his mouth. 
His brown curls laid over his forehead, you remember last week he was talking about getting it cut, and you frowned at him and said ‘absolutely not, if anything you should grow it longer’, you can’t help but notice it hasn’t been cut yet, and he is looking more tempting by the day. Maybe two more weeks and you could have an excuse to run your hand through it, tell him you noticed it was in his eyes and you were just helping. 
Even MJ knew, you think Ned and Betty have an inkling. When the four of you were together they loved to talk about Peter, except they would only praise him. He has the ultimate wingmen even if he didn’t know it. And speaking of not knowing, he had no clue you were into him. It’s not like you’ve been straightforward but you also didn’t hide it. You always made flirty comments towards him, and he would usually smile shyly and brush it off. 
“How did you think you did on Mr. Tusks test? I think I did fine.” He once asked during a passing period, you made a show of looking him up and down, “Oh trust me, you’re fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and then asked if you had heard about Kayte and Brendon. 
“Can you do me a favor?” Peter asked while you and the rest of the group met at his house for a study session before PSATS, looking over at you from his shoulder at the kitchen table. You stepped closer and grabbed his bicep, “Trust me, I’d do anything for you, Peter.” MJ let out a quiet ‘oooh’ and Peter flushed, he cleared his throat and held up some crumpled paper. “Can you throw these away for me, please?” 
You wrapped your hand around the paper in his and let your fingers rest against his palm for a moment, you looked in his eyes and pouted. “Aw, that’s all?” He looked at MJ for help, she instead looked at you and smirked with a slight nod to her head. You met her with a similar smirk and walked away to the trash can. 
Then that time at the movies you hopped around Ned to steal the spot next to Peter, “Dibs! If anyone is gonna get cuddly with Peter it’s gonna be me.” You pushed Ned’s shoulder to prove your seriousness when his jaw dropped open, he sputtered but then slunk to the seat next to you. Peter joked to ease the tension, “There’s enough of me to go around,” you looked at him and smiled, “but most of you is mine, right?” Peter went to respond but the lights dropped and the trailers started. 
You almost thought he made a move, almost. 
During the movie he lent into your ear, his warm breath sent goosebumps down your spine. “Hey.” You turned your head and almost stopped breathing, his face was right against yours, if he lent up half an inch your lips would meet. You wondered if this was the moment, all the flirting was for something. “Yeah?” You whispered back, you looked between his eyes and mouth, he caught you looking at his lips and watched you lean in a tad closer. “Can I get a sip of your slushie?” 
His grin was highlighted in the blue light of the theater screen. You grumbled and thrust the plastic cup at his chest, “Not how I imagined swapping spit with you in a movie theater, but I guess it will do.” Peter nodded absentmindedly while his attention was on the screen, and you might have maybe, just for a second, thought about punching him in the ribs. 
And right now he was asking you if he would be a good boyfriend. 
“Are you kidding me Parker? You’re the definition of boyfriend material.” You matched the grin he gave you and he shot a HA! At Ned. 
“Told you! And when I finally find a girlfriend I’m gonna be the best boyfriend.” He made a cocky grin at Ned that let him know he won the fight. Your ears were ringing, did he just say? He couldn't have. No way he’s that dumb. 
You slap your palms on the table and narrow your eyes at him, “What do you mean find a girlfriend?” 
“Oh! You know, when I finally have a chick that’s into me.” He shrugged, so casual. Did he think you were just playing around? 
“When you have a chick, into you.” You repeated the words slower and watched him nod his head and take a sip of chocolate milk. 
MJ hid her snort under a cough, you turned to look at her, silently saying ‘is he for real right now?’ and MJ gave a look back that said ‘oh i think he is.’ 
You kissed your teeth, “and tell me Peter, how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?” 
His eyes widened for a second, “Uh, I dunno. I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.” 
You laughed dryly, “Or she can make it known and you’re just totally oblivious.” 
Peter thought for a moment and hummed, “No, I think I’d know.” 
You looked at MJ with a wide mouth.
“Okay. Fuck this, I’m out.” You grabbed your backpack off the table and stomped out the cafetera doors. 
“Did I say something to make her mad?” Peter missed the look MJ and Ned shared. 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter couldn’t help but feel guilty, he didn’t know what he did but he’s almost sure he made you upset. And he would normally never interfere with Spider-Man but he’s the one that saw you tossing pebbles and crushed cans at a brick wall down an alleyway. So he had to make sure you were okay, just doing his civilian duties. 
“Fucking stupid, oblivious, what does he want me to do? Fucking show up at his house naked?” You mumbled to yourself and kicked a cardboard box, sending it into the side of a dumpster. 
You heard something drop behind you, spinning to the sound you were met with the masked vigilante seen across the city. You had never seen him in person, not even a glimpse when you were walking around. You were starting to believe he was a figment of people's imagination.   
You narrowed your eyes, you didn’t know or care why he was there. 
“Fuck off, Spider-Man.” You turned to throw another rock at the wall and watch it bounce off, just like all your attempts with Peter. That frustrating prick. 
“Bad day?” 
He didn’t leave and he just brought a shit storm apun himself. 
You spun to face him again, “You have no idea.” 
“Tell me about it.” Maybe you would slip why you were pissed at lunch. 
You looked him up and down and tapped a finger on your chin, “Do you take hits?” 
“Like punches? I mean I try-” 
You cut him off, “No. I mean if I tell you to beat someone up would you do it?” 
Peter’s eyes widened in the mask, but then collected himself. 
“Maybe, it depends why you want them beaten up.” 
“Because he deserves pain.” You threw another rock. 
“Who’s he?” Peter had a feeling it was himself. 
You groaned and rubbed at your eyes, you paused to think of the story and decided to tell the whole thing to make sense. 
“Are you like a therapist or something?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Like patient doctor confidentiality. I can tell you anything and no one knows?”
Peter thought to himself, he had never viewed himself that way but he sees how some may think of him like that. Just a random guy to dump their shit unto. 
“Sure, yeah. I won’t go screaming from the rooftops about your bad day with ‘he’.” He used air quotes around the ‘he’ and smiled when he made you laugh. 
“Alright, cool.” You nodded and paused after rubbing the bridge of your nose, then finally looking into the white masked eyes of Spider-Man.
“You brought this on yourself. Okay look, I’m new here right? Moved here from Manhattan, and got into this, like, super smart kid school.” You watched the masked face nod. 
“And I met this girl on my first day and she’s super cool and she tells me she’s gonna introduce me to her friends, and I was super excited to make friends, right?” You watched him to make sure he was listening, “And sorry for the next part, if you’re like a thirty year old guy just understand I am a horny teenager and you were once me, okay? Okay.” 
“So I met her friends, Ned and Peter. And let me tell you, Peter? Wow! Look, I’ll level with you. I’ve liked dudes before, maybe even kissed a few, who’s to know?” Peter froze for a moment, did you just hint at what he thinks? 
“But, Peter? I have literally never wanted to hump someone's face until I saw him.” 
Peter coughed then cleared his throat, his cheeks felt on fire. 
He knows you’ve always said things to him, he knows it was flirty but he didn’t realize you were being serious, cause he was him, and you were you. Peter never had that aha moment where he realized you were in fact flirting and did like him like that. He now wants to curl in shame because of the way he’s blown you off for so long, he doesn’t know why he thought you were always playing around with him, especially now. Because you only ever told Peter, you wanted Peter. 
Peter feels really dumb right now watching a girl he never thought he could pull, in distress because he is in fact, not pulling her. 
“I don’t know how to explain it but I felt so pulled to him, I hadn’t known him for twelve seconds and I wanted to know everything about him, you know? And I’ve tried everything, man. I don’t know how much more clear I can get, I mean I flirt with him all the time. Like, all the time. I literally told him I wanted to make out with him at the movies and he was just like… But can I get some of that slushie? I wanted to kill him and then myself.” 
You noticed the wide eyes on the mask but held up a hand to continue. 
“And today! My god I really thought he got it, get this, the fucker,” You exclaimed the fucker. “This fucker looks at me, dead in the eye and says ‘I’d be a good boyfriend right?’ and I was like ‘Oh my god, yes. You are literally perfection, look at you. So handsome, such baby, I will die if I don’t kiss you.’ And he goes, and I cannot make this shit up, ‘when I finally find a girlfriend I’ll be the best boyfriend.’” You mocked his voice, well not Peter’s, but a general man's voice. 
“Oh.” The first response you’ve heard from him yet. 
You laughed bitterly. “Oh, I’m not even at the part that made me fly off the wall.” 
Peter knows what you’re talking about. 
“At this point I just thought he was his normal little dumb self but when he said that? Game over. So I said, ‘how the fuck would you know when a girl is into you?’ just like that too, and he goes,” You paused to laugh again and shake your head, “‘I think if she likes me she’ll make it known.’ How fucking disconnected is he from reality? I wonder what it would be like to be in his head, really. Just a fuckton of open space huh? Anyways, I just told him that maybe she is making it known and he’s just not paying attention and he goes, ‘hmm, nope. I’d think I know.’ I couldn’t take it and just walked out.” 
You finished up your rant, “So, in conclusion. Fuck Peter Parker, but also, I want to fuck Peter Parker. It’s hard being 17.” 
For the first time Spider-Man was speechless. He didn’t know how to navigate this because he wanted to take your side but also didn’t want to throw Peter under the bus. When he noticed you were waiting for a response he let out a ‘Wow.’ 
“Well, wow.” He was still trying to find words. 
“I know right? I told you, you brought this on yourself.” You sat against the brick wall and pulled a quarter from your pocket running it across your knuckles. Spider-Man moved to sit next to you. 
“I know you say you’ve been forward but maybe he thinks you’re joking, or maybe he didn’t see it like that because he thought you wouldn’t like him like that.” 
“Babes, you have no idea how much I like him like that.” 
“Right. I mean, maybe give it another shot, you never know.” He shrugged his shoulders, who knows? Peter may even ask for a date next time you talk. 
“Oh, you think I’m giving up?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “No way, if anything this makes him even more attractive. Who doesn’t like a good chase? I will tell you my next method was just popping up at his place like, you, me, lets fuck, right here, right now.” 
“Chasing is only fun if you catch them in the end. And I doubt this Peter kid would ever give into that method, you’d scare the shit out of him.” You sighed and thought about it. “You’re right, he would respect me too much. It’s gross how much I love that.” You watched the quarter roll across your middle knuckle and held it tightly. 
You leaned a cheek against the hero’s shoulder. 
“Don’t beat up Peter Parker. He’s a sweet boy, just a little unaware.” 
“Although, if he doesn’t wake up to smell the bacon next time we talk I’m sending you a smoke signal and his address and I won’t let you leave until I see blood.” 
Peter let out a big laugh, “Deal.” 
You stood up and brushed off your butt then reached a hand out to help Spider-Man up. 
“Thanks for talking me off the ledge. Here’s a tip.” You tossed the quarter in your hand towards the red glove. 
Peter nodded and gave a two finger salute, “Just doing my job ma'am, I am the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man after all. I’ll look around for you, I hope I get a Peter update soon.” 
You smiled at the hero once more. 
“Me too.”
You watched as he took off and started to walk home, not even twenty minutes later a text came through. 
hey, sorry if i made you upset at lunch today. 
It's fine, I'm sure you’ll make it up to me. 
yeah, i’ll show you how sorry i can be.
And hell if your breath didn’t hitch. Did he just flirt with you? There is no way in God’s green earth did he just send a text like that not knowing how you’d take it. Did he finally wake up and smell the roses? Did the behavior at lunch kick in a thinking cell? 
Either way, you couldn’t wait for school tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking in the doors you rubbed the palm of your hand over your cold nose, the temperature was slowly reminding you summer was over and the nips of frost and changing leaf colors proved it. You were excited for fall and winter, you would have friends to go to a halloween party with, maybe even get to wear a couples costume with Peter if it worked out for you. You would trickle into thanksgiving and then have a whole season for cookies, movies and snow fights. A part of you couldn’t help but think about Peter's eyes sparkling in the christmas lights. 
Peter’s head darted up at you the second you walked through the door, his teeth nibbling his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure what to say, or if he should say anything. Does he wait for you to say something? Does he walk up and ask you on a date?
Either way you were about to walk past him, you looked preoccupied, in your own world. You were nibbling on your thumb nail, lost in your thoughts about Peter, and the weather, and Peter, and snow, and carving pumpkins with Peter, and the way leaves would crunch under your feet, and then floated to central park and walking hand in hand with Peter, and kissing Peter under a tree, or maybe he’d take you to rockefeller plaza and ask you to be his girlfriend there, and you just know in your heart Peter would always give you extra whipped cream on your hot chocolate. 
You were so lost in thinking about Peter you didn’t see Peter. 
Not until he jumped in front of you. 
“Hey!” He smiled and it made your eyes go hazy. 
“Peter.” You let out dreamily, still stuck in daydreams where he was yours.
“Whatcha thinking about?” His grin gave away he knew, but you know he didn’t.
“Would you give me extra whipped cream on hot chocolate?” 
“Oh yeah. I’d even throw in some mini marshmallows and a cinnamon stick. Or do you like peppermint more?” 
You fawned at his response, he was so gentle it warmed you. 
“Would you carve pumpkins with me?” You looked at his locker. 
“Why not? Seems fun.” He tapped his fist against your shoulder.
“I would need your help, cause I’m good at getting the guts out but the actual carving part hurts my hand because I have to use so much force. So I could draw a design and you could cut it for me, cause you're way stronger than me.” 
“Why are you good at getting the guts out?” He poked a finger at your elbow to get your attention back on his face. 
You bit your bottom lip and changed topics. 
“Have you ever walked through central park?” 
I mean, if Peter thinks about it he’s spent a fair amount of time there, but he’s not roaming around. He’s swinging around or stopping crime or running after someone, so he guesses not. He’s never walked through the park and enjoyed it, he thinks he did it a few times as a kid but he can’t remember the last time he went. 
“As a kid, I haven’t been in a while.” 
“I think it would be really pretty to walk through it when the leaves all change.” 
“I love the feeling of the leaves crunching under my feet.” 
“Me too! As a kid I used to build leaf forts and just roll around for hours.” You smiled brightly at the shared feeling. 
“We could go sometime, just say when. We could even get the group together.” He winked playfully but dropped the grin when he saw the disappointment flash in your eyes when he added the friends part. You didn’t want a group trip, you wanted a Peter trip. 
“Or it could be just a you and me thing, I think I could use some one on one time with you.” Peter retracted his earlier statement. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion, “really? You do?” 
“Yeah, of course. I love talking to you.” He smiled and watched you bite your bottom lip as you stared at his. 
“Anything fun happen yesterday? I didn’t see you after lunch.” Was he possibly hinting at you talking about him to him? Yes. 
“Uh,” You trailed and thought about telling him, scared if you said too much he’d ask details. 
“You know, I started to believe Spider-Man was a mass hallucination, turns out he’s a real guy. Kinda cool.” 
Peter raised his eyebrows, “You suddenly came to that belief yesterday?” 
“Well I mean, you know. He was like, there. And was like, hey.” You gave a general response and shrugged your shoulders. 
“He was just there and said hey?” He slowly repeated the words back. 
“Hey! He promised he wouldn’t talk about what we discussed and I will promise the same. We had a nice conversation about someone close to me and he gave me a little pep talk.” You defended your stance. 
“Like patient doctor confidentiality?” He was having a little fun here. 
“Exactly! It was true alleyway therapy. I even gave him a quarter for his troubles.” You crossed your arms and grinned, it was funny how good you felt after talking to him yesterday. Maybe exploding emotions on a third party stranger was good. 
“Sounds like you have a crush on Spidey.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him, “If he was here right now, and heard that coming from your mouth? He would have a fucking field day, I promise you that.” 
Peter raised his eyebrows in coyness. 
“From me? Sounds like he knows something, was I maybe the close person you had a conversation about?” 
Your cheeks felt warm, you were on the spot. You always hinted at your crush on Peter but you were kind of pussy to outright say it so you hoped he would catch on and ask you out. But now you didn’t know how to react, you had said too much and backed yourself into a corner. 
You opened your mouth to play off a response when the bell for first period rang out, you let out a breath of relief and smiled at Peter. 
“Saved by the bell.” 
--------------------------------------------------------------------
You were begging Spider-Man was out, looking around where he had dropped down yesterday. 
Things have progressed with Peter and you promised him an update, it was just about keeping him in the loop. It had nothing to do with getting to fantasize and romanticize you and Peter’s interactions. 
Jumping in excitement you saw him standing on the corner of the same building you were hiding behind yesterday, hands on his hips with his head turned the opposite way. 
“Spider-Man!” You whisper shouted. 
“Hey! Spidey!” You raised your tone some. 
“Yo! Spider-boy!” You picked up a pebble and threw it up the building. 
Getting his attention the hero looked behind him then pointed at himself with a thumb, “me?” You rolled your eyes, “yes, you. C’mere.” Watching him jump down and land in a squatted pose you couldn’t help but think about how fucked up your ankles would’ve been if you tried it. 
“Peter update, bitch. I don’t have another quarter on me, so this will have to be on the house.” 
“I kept it.” He handed it back to you and you thought about how if Peter did that you would be putty in your shoes. 
“I think he was flirting with me. I think. I don’t know, he’s so coy. I love him.” You sighed and held a hand to your heart. 
“And I am so sadistic, I’m using him as a pawn in my sick games. I’m asking him questions that I’ve already answered in my head about him and when he gives me a response it’s better than I imagined.” 
“Maybe he was flirting, or trying. Something tells me you make him nervous.” 
“Am I intimidating? I don’t want him scared of me, I want to mash my parts with his.” You pouted and thought if you were making him uncomfortable. 
“First, gross.” (Not really, he also wants to mash parts.) 
“Second, I don’t think you’re intimidating. I just think you are much more forward than him.” 
“Oh no. Is that a problem? Do I keep doing what I am, or should I let him do this? Am I over stepping? I’ve never had a boyfriend, is he supposed to pursue me? Have I done everything backwards? Oh god.” You covered your face with your hands and missed Peter's eyes growing wide and his panicked arm movements. 
“No, no, no, no. You’re fine, you’re good. It’s good. You can make the first move, totally okay. I just meant you’re expecting him to ask you out any second and I think you need to make it more noticeable rather than joking.” 
“Ew! Gross! I will not walk up to that man and tell him I wanna smooch.” 
“Oh, C’mon! You basically already have!” 
“Nope. Not happening. You’ve helped me make up my mind, I will wait for Peter Parker to make the next move.” You tossed the quarter back to him, “Don’t worry. You’ll see me again.” 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Woah, wait.” MJ stopped in her tracks and spoke her next words carefully. 
“You told Spider-Man about your crush on Peter?” Her voice was smooth and quick, MJ almost felt panicked for you, because you didn’t know what you just did. 
“Yeah?” You didn’t get the big deal, not like Spider-Man knew who Peter was anyways. 
“What did he say?” MJ was pulling at the thread.
“That I should be more clear, or less intimidating, or something.” 
“He said you were intimidating?” MJ narrowed her eyes. 
“Well kind of, when I said that he kind of back tracked but-” 
MJ cut you off when he locked eyes with Peter coming down the hall towards you, he tilted his head in question, he knew that look and he wasn’t sure why he deserved it. She grabbed Peter’s forearm and tugged him next to her, your eyes went wide. You didn’t need to understand why MJ decided to bring Peter into this conversation, you just needed to end it. 
“Peter, do you think Y/N is intimidating?”  
His eyes saw your subtle head shake at her, an unvocal way of telling her to shut the fuck up. 
“Uh, no. Not at all. Why?” 
MJ waited for you to talk but you stayed silent, you would definitely spill if you tried to navigate the conversation. 
“Because, the Queens nightly hero thinks she is.” Her tone was bitter, who knew MJ was this defensive over you. 
“He said I was too forward, MJ. Drop it.” You pleaded to get out of this alive. 
“Too forward, imagine that, Peter. Imagine confiding in someone about a crush and they say you’re too forward.” 
You felt your knees hit your ankles, Peter would connect the dots. You told him you had a conversation and MJ just admitted it was about a crush. 
You started to dryly laugh, not allowing Peter a chance to answer that. 
“Not a crush! Nope! Don’t know where you got that theory.” You darted your eyes around looking for an escape. 
“No?” Peter questioned you. 
“You know MJ, she lives in her own world. Never said anything about having a crush on someone, definitely not you.” 
Peter had to play into this, your turn to squirm. 
“Who said I thought you had a crush on me?” 
Your heart couldn’t beat any louder than it was at the moment. 
“No one did.” You flashed a nervous smile. 
“No, I think you just did.” 
You breathed heavily out your nose and looked harshly at MJ like ‘wtf? Why did you do this?’ 
“I just didn’t want you to think I have a crush on you.” 
Peter pouted, “Why not? I think it would be cute.” 
It was your turn to sputter. 
“Cute? It would be cute? Cute how? Cute, that's adorable or cute, let's date?” 
You didn’t miss MJ’s look of ‘wow. Subtle much?’ 
“Depends. Do you have a crush on me?” 
“Do you think I have a crush on you?” 
Peter hummed and pretended to think. 
“Sometimes.” He shrugged his shoulders. 
“Only sometimes?” 
“I’m confused. Do you want me to think you have a crush on me or not?” 
MJ raised her hands and slowly started to back away. 
“Depends. How would you react?” You cautioned. 
“Probably how you want me to react.” 
“And how do I want you to react?” 
Peter smiled and leaned in close, you held your breath for a moment. Was he about to kiss you? Is that how you want him to react? Yes. 
“You tell me.” 
Then he straightened himself and winked as he walked away. 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter just had to wait for an opening, not that you would take long to give him one. You couldn’t keep it in, it was second nature at this point.
If there was any way he could ask you out casually then you needed to make it a bit clear, as much as you said you wanted it he couldn’t imagine the flip of “he doesn’t notice anything” to “hey, wanna go out?” 
 Peter was trying to set himself up for one of your comments and you tried your best to keep a poker face but when he said that? Game over. 
“I think I have a shot, she totally likes me.” 
Was he talking about you? He better be, because if you were walking into his house for the regular Friday movie night and he was talking about another girl you would actually lose it. You had just got there, still waiting for MJ and Ned to show up when he greeted you with his words. 
“Who likes you?” 
“Kendra! During math she was holding up her highlighters trying to match one to my shirt. It’s pretty obvious right?” 
“No.” 
“No?” 
“No. You can’t be serious.” 
“I am! I told you if someone liked me they would make it obvious, and I’m pretty sure she did.” 
“Oh fuck you Peter! You’re the actual worst, I sit here all fucking day saying things to you, about literally wanting to be all over you and a girl with a fucking highlighter collection is booted to top of the list?” 
“I mean, what am I? Chopped liver? I have been pining after you for months, and all it took was a highlighter? Do you know I wear that green sweater all the time because you said you liked it once, or that I follow you around like a puppy? How about when I flirt with you, or do you even know I’m flirting with you?” 
Peter had a shit eating grin that made you even more upset. 
“Why are you so happy right now, you’re really pissing me off.” 
Peter stalked towards you until you were backed up into the wall, with nowhere to go you felt his chest brush yours, his arms caging you against the wall, your head between both of his hands. 
Save for the position, you were excited. This was going to be a new daydream scenario, he had you pinned to the wall. The only way out was through him. 
He leant in close, if you just pushed yourself up you could have his lips on yours. 
“Because, you finally admitted it.” 
You narrowed your gaze at him. 
“What is that supp-” 
He cut you off. 
With his mouth. 
On yours. 
No matter how many times you dreamed about this exact moment nothing could match the real thing. His lips were soft, his hand cupped your jaw to bring you closer to him. His body leaned in so he was flush against yours, you felt every curve and divot of him blend into yours. You grabbed at the waist of his shirt, begging for him not to leave his position of being on your mouth. 
Instead he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, the feather touch of his tongue on your lower lip sent your head into a spiral, the boy you had been obsessing and pining over the past few months was moving with your movements, you gasped into his mouth and he squeezed a hip with his hand and you in turn pressed your hips into his. 
He pulled away and placed a kiss to your jaw, then neck. 
“Was that the reaction you wanted?” 
Your eyes stayed closed but you nodded, scared if you opened them the illusion would disappear. 
“I kissed you with my heart and soul baby girl, can’t a guy get a response?” 
You whimpered at the pet name. 
Then a knock at the door, the curtain dropped. The other friends were here and it would go back to pretend this didn’t happen for a few hours. The front door was being opened from the outside, you had your head turned to the right to watch it open. Peter still had you pressed into the wall, he placed an arm out to hold the door shut. 
“I’m not done yet.” 
He leant in for another one, and another. 
And another. 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” 
You did promise Spider-Man an update, but it’s been a busy few months. Christmas was just around the corner and Peter and you have been busy. Between dates and seasonal activities you haven’t had a moment to track down the hero and catch him up to date. 
First it was Halloween and you did get your couples costume. (and he helped you carve your pumpkin.)
 Then it was Thanksgiving. (and he walked through central park with you.)
And recently you’ve both been busy with present shopping and baking. (and he gives you hot chocolate with extra, extra whipped cream.)
 “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy being a girlfriend.” 
“Girlfriend?” 
You squealed. “Yes! He totally set me up and I was all like, ‘How do you not know I like you?’ and BAM! He just started kissing me, I was seeing fucking stars.” 
“Peter Parker finally smelled the bacon, huh?” 
“Yeah. He’s really awesome. I know we were friends before but it’s gotten so much better now he’s my boyfriend, I don’t even know how to describe it. I think it’s because everything I feel for him is reciprocated times ten by him.” 
“I think it’s because you love him.” 
“Or because we’re mashing parts.” 
You laughed at his reaction. 
“Gross.” (Not gross. He fucking loves mashing parts.)
“But yeah, I think it’s mostly because we love each other.” 
“I’m happy for you, I’m glad I can stop looking for smoke signals now.” 
You grinned at the hero and had to fight back the urge for a hug. 
“Thanks, if it makes you feel better if I knew who you were under the mask I’d buy you dinner.” 
Sirens blaring broke the reunion. 
“It’s alright. I have a feeling you’ll know soon.” 
“Hm, sure. Have a goodnight, Spidey. I’ll see you around.” 
“You too, Y/N.” 
Then he swung off, it left a grin on your face. 
Until. 
‘How did he know my name?’ 
4K notes · View notes
ncteez · 5 months
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Cherry Boy. [l.c.]
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Chapter One of "Losing it". Reminder that each chapter in this series is stand alone and can be read without reading any of the others!
A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space.  You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss. 
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail
WORDCOUNT― 10k
PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader 
CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv
NOTE― This is the reason I gave chan the first chapter in the series. It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!
smut tags under cut:: 
SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie 
~
Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at. 
Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin. 
He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.
You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you. 
It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way. 
Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.
Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.
Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts? 
It’s a joke. 
It has to be a joke. 
Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you. 
Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you. 
He likes you so, so fucking much.
~
“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you. 
“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned. 
“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has. 
You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong. 
It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all? 
You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth. 
You need to live up to that promise. 
“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.” 
The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now. 
He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words. 
What did he do wrong? 
“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 
You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb. 
“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”
He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying. 
“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.” 
“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?” 
Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment. 
You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end. 
“I’m coming over.” 
He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final. 
Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.
Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him? 
That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment. 
Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.
~
The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.
You look like you’ve been crying. 
“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”
You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure. 
He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions. 
“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this. 
“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”
He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him. 
“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.” 
He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you. 
By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.
“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.” 
You look at him with irritation at those words. 
“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”
He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on. 
“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet. 
You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long. 
“No, I think we’re done h-” 
“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you. 
Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–
“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again. 
“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.” 
Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately. 
“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.” 
You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on. 
You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have. 
“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”
He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you. 
He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.
“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”
You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better. 
“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”
He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it. 
Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.
“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”
You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now. 
“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”
“You want to give your virginity to me?”
You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.
“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”
You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time. 
Ecstatic even. 
“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”
“Jesus, no.” He says. 
You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills. 
“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him. 
He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it. 
“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you. 
You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding. 
He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body. 
Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you. 
He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time. 
“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”
He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out. 
“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”
You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now. 
He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.
“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.” 
His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.
But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something. 
“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”
You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life. 
“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”
“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him. 
~
Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together. 
You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something. 
The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good. 
Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing. 
You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session. 
This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him. 
Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days. 
Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you. 
He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder. 
His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds. 
And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.
You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it. 
“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”
When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue. 
“Do you think of me after you leave? When you’re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?” 
He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”. 
He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away. 
“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you. 
“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.” 
You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you. 
“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.” 
He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him. 
“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.
“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.” 
He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now. 
“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.” 
Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it? 
Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you. 
You smile. 
“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”
And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session. 
As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you. 
And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself. 
You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?
When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.
You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch. 
And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand. 
“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”
It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?
Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears. 
“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck. 
“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much. 
“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”
Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening? 
You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.
He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way. 
“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss. 
And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought. 
“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver. 
He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt. 
“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now. 
You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you. 
“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”
You smile. 
You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself. 
“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance. 
He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.
It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it. 
He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly. 
He’s so fucking lucky. 
“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”
He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point. 
And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it. 
“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”
Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words. 
“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”
You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man. 
“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.” 
And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes. 
“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”
His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you. 
“Taking everything in you to…?” 
You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool. 
“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”
“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words. 
You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance. 
“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”
And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there. 
Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down. 
He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum. 
Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?
“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button. 
His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally. 
“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again. 
Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan. 
“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips. 
His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish. 
“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”
And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches. 
“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”
His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting. 
“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”
You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed. 
Desperate. Willing. 
You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again. 
And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.
His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.
You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you. 
Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it. 
“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs. 
You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally– 
“You’re so….” You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.” 
He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him. 
You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock. 
You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely. 
“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”
That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation. 
“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”
You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now. 
And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good. 
“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”
God, he’s so frustrated. 
“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too. 
You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something. 
You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there. 
Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control. 
You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.
The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head. 
Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste. 
You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head. 
His entire body shivers as you glance up at him. 
You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.
Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–
And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.
He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling. 
The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–
“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it. 
And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips. 
You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……
It doesn’t fucking stop. 
He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth. 
“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now. 
“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”
You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with. 
“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.” 
Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you. 
“But we still haven’t–”
You cut him off quickly.
“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”
Oh, my god. He forgot. 
“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you. 
“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.” 
You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand. 
He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts. 
“Oh.” He sighs out. 
“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before. 
Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory. 
“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”
You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.
Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts. 
“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night. 
And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape. 
“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm. 
Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you. 
He gets to….touch you. 
And boy does he. 
Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly. 
You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you. 
You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact. 
He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements. 
Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far. 
I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right? 
And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him. 
“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you. 
He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now. 
And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit. 
The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.
His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.
“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?” 
He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers. 
“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”
You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing. 
“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”
He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.
“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement. 
You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.
“Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”
He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.
He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you. 
“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers. 
You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him. 
“Now? Do you want to do it now?” 
He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become. 
“Can I?” 
You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact. 
All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works. 
Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit. 
“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.
He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy. 
“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”
And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you. 
He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you. 
“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words. 
“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you. 
You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more. 
“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”
He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening. 
“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him. 
And he does. 
Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in. 
His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.
The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it. 
He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.
You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling. 
He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now. 
What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move. 
He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in. 
In and out, in and out, until–
“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly  at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.
Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….
He’s done for. 
“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you. 
He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long. 
Until he’s not, of course. 
And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath. 
Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.
You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before. 
You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him– 
It hits you faster than you can realize. 
Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost. 
Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath. 
You pussy is pulsing, and then–
“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks. 
There’s the breath you’d been holding. 
“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.
Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you. 
He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him. 
Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you. 
Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you. 
Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now. 
And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him. 
“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.
“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow. 
“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?” 
He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head. 
“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”
And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care. 
“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”
He doesn’t even have to think twice. 
“The second reason.” 
“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”
~
Chapter two: THIRST TRAPPERS LIE. [hoshi] ― coming soon!
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cozage · 1 year
Text
Captured by Marines
Characters: Luffy, Law, Ace cw: f! reader, angst, gore, mentions of injury/surgery A/N: A bit of a 180 from my post this morning haha! Also, I know I put it in the cw but again, this is obviously going to have some angst and there are also varying mentions of gore. I'm going to tag each individual story with major content warnings, hope that helps.
Luffy
A/N: spoilers for Marineford ahead in this one. 
“Listen Luffy,” Nami begins hesitantly. “I need you to sit down, and remain calm when I tell you this.” 
“What’s up, Nami?” He jokes, laughing at her tone. “You’re always so serious!” He hasn’t realized you were missing yet, or noticed the tears in Nami’s eyes. 
“Luffy…” Nami takes a ragged breath to steady herself. “It’s Y/N. She-” Nami breaks off unable to finish the sentence, tears finally pouring out of her eyes.
Her tears surprise him, and Luffy’s head snaps around, suddenly very aware of his surroundings. You’re not here. You’re not at the rendezvous point. He does a crew count, everyone is here except you. He does the count again. One short. And Nami crying…
He grabs Nami’s shoulders firmly. “Where is she, Nami?” He begins to shake her, trying to get the words out faster. “Where is Y/N?!”
Nami is sobbing now, inconsolable. Luffy knows she’s trying to speak, but the words simply won’t come. “Nami, TELL ME! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS?” He can’t stop shaking her. He knows it’s not helping, but he needs her words to come out faster. He needs to know that you’re safe.
“Luffy, that’s enough.” Sanji takes a long drag off the cigarette between his lips, ready to step in at any moment. “Calm down. You shouldn’t be acting that way towards a lady.”
“THEN TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!” Luffy roars out to the room, but he releases his navigator. Nami backs away from him until her back hits a wall, and then sinks to the ground. 
“I’m sorry,” she sobs into her hands again and again. “I’m so sorry, Luffy.”
“She got taken.” Sanji says in her place. He takes another inhale off the cigarette and removes it from his mouth. He makes brief eye contact with Zoro, both of them prepping for the worst reaction from their captain. “By the Marines.”
Luffy stands there, stunned for a moment. Surely he had misheard Sanji. There was a strange ringing in his ears, and his vision started to get dark around the edges. “By the…marines?”
Sanji sighs. “Yeah. She was protecting Nami, and they got her with the sea prism stone cuffs and made a quick escape. We tried to get her back, but they were quick. It almost felt like that was their mission the whole time.”
Sanji mouth kept moving, but Luffy couldn’t hear him. He could only hear your laugh, see your smile. And then he hears Ace, thanking him with his final breath. No, the outcome wouldn’t be the same. He was stronger now, and he would save you. He had to save you. 
“We’re not letting them leave this island with her.” His voice is authoritative, even if his entire body is shaking with fear. 
The entire crew responds in unison. “Obviously.”
Rescued
Law
A/N: Injury and surgery mentions
“CAPTAINNN!!!” The Heart Pirates race towards their captain, eager to see him again. It had been too long. He smiles at his crew, but his eyes are scanning the crowd. He can’t locate the two people who are always first to greet him. “Where’s Bepo and Y/N-ya?” You and Bepo had been sent for a reconnaissance mission a few days ago and should’ve arrived back before Law. His unease grew as he watched his crew’s eyes shift nervously between each other. 
Penguin finally clears his throat and speaks up for the crew. “Bepo is back at camp. He got inju-” Law is already on the move, not waiting for Penguin to finish his sentence. He refuses to run, but he’s walking as fast as he can without doing so. 
Penguin is following close behind, not missing a beat. “Captain-” he starts again, trying to find the right words, but he’s cut off again by the surgeon. 
“How critical are they?” He asks, tone clipped. He had used a lot of energy on the mission, but he’d do whatever he needed to in order to keep his crew alive. Especially you and Bepo. 
“Bepo has blunt force trauma to his torso that will probably need to be examined and a deep wound in his leg and paw that will need to be checked out. He’s unconscious but stable.” Penguin responded. He had gotten used to reporting injuries to the Captain. “But, Captain-”
“And Y/N-ya?” Law felt better knowing Bepo was okay, assuming you probably had the same injury status. 
Penguin said nothing for a long moment, which caused Law to glance his way. His mouth felt like sandpaper suddenly, and he realized that Penguin hadn’t actually report about you at all yet. “Penguin,” he prompted again. “What about Y/N?”
“She hasn’t reported in yet.” Penguin’s voice was pained. “We found Bepo unconscious about a half a kilometer from camp.”
Law hissed in disapproval, resisting the urge to Shambles closer to camp. He needed to save what little energy he had left. Penguin kept moving silently beside him, but Law could feel there was something his crew member wasn’t saying. He waited a few moments before he couldn’t stand the tension. “What aren’t you telling me, Penguin?”
“It’s not confirmed.” Penguin starts out, trying to keep it positive. “But Shachi heard something on the radio.”
“What? Spit it out.” Laws tone was dangerously close to being hostile. 
“The Marines said..” Penguin stopped moving, taking a breath, as if to prepare himself.
Law didn’t raise his voice at his crew often, but with a member of his crew injured and another missing, he snapped. He turned on his heels and glared daggers at his subordinate. “Stop keeping me on edge and tell me already, dammit!” 
“The Marines said they had someone in custody!” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a squeak, leaving a heavy weight in the air. 
The captain paused for a moment to take in Penguin’s words, and then turned away, heading towards Bepo again without another word. 
“Ca-Captain?” Penguin was back on his heels again, but Law said nothing. He couldn’t be distracted by a simple rumor. You were probably safe, hiding in the woods, waiting for a moment to come back to camp. Bepo would confirm that when he woke up. 
Penguin tried again. “Captain, it’s just that-”
“You said it wasn’t confirmed right? She’s fine, then. Let’s worry with Bepo, and then we’ll send out a search party for her when we get a better idea of her last location.” The Captain’s confidence in you left Penguin stopped in his tracks, but Law kept moving forward towards his injured crew member, leaving Penguin in the dust. 
Law waited by Bepo’s side after the surgery, within close earshot of Shachi and the radio. He had split the crew into small groups and sent them out to search for you in rotations, but nobody had found any sign of you so far. 
Law couldn’t sleep while you were missing, but he knew he needed rest. He compromised by sitting and staring at the radio, as if he were trying to will it to speak to them. After a few hours of silence, radio static signaled that the channel was active. “Do we have confirmation on the identity of the individual in custody yet?” A husky voice broke the air.
“Standby.” A younger voice responded, maybe even younger than Law.
Law stood up for the first time since he had finished tending to Bepo. “Switch to-”
Shachi was already flipping to the secure line they had tapped earlier. 
The husky voice returned as Shachi hit the channel switch. “-me you have a name, Lieutenant. I’ve got HQ on my ass about this matter.”
“Yessir. We have confirmation that the individual in question is [F/N] [L/N] of the Heart Pirates led by Trafalgar Law.”
The husky-voice man let out an audible gasp. “You better not be shitting me, Lieutenant. You’re positive?”
Shachi looked nervously at his Captain, but Law was fixated on the radio. It had to be a mistake. This couldn’t be happening. 
“Yes sir.” The younger man confirmed. “We have multiple sources from the battlefield confirming her skill and her identity. We’re departing for Impel Down as we speak”.
Law’s breath was shallow. He needed to get to you. To pull you back to safety. “Room.” If he can just make an area wide enough, he can shambles himself to you and free you.
But the effects from the mission and the operation weigh heavy on him, and he can feel his ability fading before he can find your presence. He falls to the ground, the weight of failure finally pushing him over the edge into total exhaustion. He can feel the world spinning, and know he’s far surpassed his limit. 
“Ready the ship to set sail immediately and do so immediately.” He can feel his eyes closing against his will, no matter how determined he is to stay awake. “We’re going after her. Follow them at any cost.”
As he slips from consciousness, he only thinks about you. How he’s lost you, and how he’ll stop at nothing to get you back. 
Rescued
Ace:
A/N: major gore/injuries
“To Whitebeard!” Mugs of various alcohols slammed together for a toast. Ace had Marco in a headlock, laughing and drinking his cup of ale while Marco struggled to get free. 
“I’m just saying we should wait to celebrate!” Marco squirmed below him. “Jozu’s division still isn’t back-”
“Come on, Marco,” Ace jested. “You really have that little faith in division three? I’m telling Y/N. She’ll never forgive you, y’know.”
Marco finally freed himself from Ace’s grip and stood upright, looking out to sea. “It just…they should be back by now.”
As the hours passed and the party raged on, Ace found himself glancing at the horizon more and more frequently. By the time the sun was setting, his gaze was stuck on the path you should be returning back on.  “They should be back by now,” he muttered to himself. “Where are you?” Ace pulls out your vivre card, relieved to find it intact and inching towards the way you should be returning.
He held your vivre card all evening, watching for any signs of distress. Marco sat with him on lookout, waiting for any kind of news as well. It wasn’t until the moon hung high in the sky that lights appeared on the horizon. “They’re back!” Relief washed over him as he shook Marco awake. He tucked your vivre card away and stood up for the first time in hours. “I’m going to go meet them and see what’s going on.”
“Wait, Ace,” Marco started, still groggy with sleep. “It could be-” but Ace was already jumping off the boat, aiming for his Striker. Flames appeared far below where Marco was sitting, and the Striker’s engine roared as it took off towards the approaching ship. 
Ace was used to you all being apart for missions. You were in the third division with Jozu, so it didn’t always line up that you all worked together. But Jozu was a man who was always has his crew back by rendezvous time, and it had been over twelve hours since that time had passed. 
The ship was flying a Whiteboard flag, and he could pick out a few crew members he recognized when he looked through the binoculars. He let out a sigh of relief, finally releasing a burden he didn’t realize he was carrying. The pit that had grown in his stomach over the past half day had been so slow, he didn’t even notice it until it started to ease away. 
The feeling of relief didn’t last long. As he got closer, he realized the ship itself was in bad shape. It had clearly been through an unexpected battle, maybe even more than one. He threw more flames out from his feet and raced towards the ship, the pit in his stomach returning and multiplying by the second. 
He jumped aboard the boat, looking for your face in the crowd, but all he could see were beaten and battered crew mates in various states of conditions. Some had cuts, others were more bandages than human. The smell was worse. The stench of death and distant smell of blood was mixed with a strange smell of meat cooking. Ace’s vision blurred for a second seeing such a sight, and he willed himself to stay focused. 
A deep voice called his name from the other side of the ship. Jozu. He looked around, searching for his fellow commander, but couldn’t locate him. “Down here, man.”
Ace had a pretty iron stomach, but the sight of his friend made it do a few somersaults. Jozu had a horrible head gash that someone was applying constant pressure on, a bandage wrapped around one eye, and the entire left part of his body seemed to be blackened, as if it were burnt. 
“Jozu…” Ace resisted the urge to ask about your status, suddenly afraid of the answer. “What happened?”
“Navy ambush.” Jozu took a ragged breath, and those around him exchanged worried looks. “We didn’t stand a chance.” Jozu was gasping for air at this point, but he was determined to get the information out. “They took prisoners. About 10-15.” It was clear he wanted to relay more information, but his body convulsed with a sudden coughing fit. 
“Who was taken? Where is-” Ace stopped himself right before he says your name, shameful of the fact that he’s prioritizing your life over everyone else. 
His cheeks must’ve turned a shade of red, because a kid passing by glares at him. “If you’re going to vomit, do it over the side of the ship. We have enough to clean up.”
Jozu’s cough finally subsides, and he looks at his brother with deep regret in his eyes. Ace’s heart plummets, and he knows what to expect before the words are out of his mouth. “They took her, Ace. They took Y/N. I’m sorry. I-” whatever Jozu was going to say is cut off by another round of coughing fits, but Ace doesn’t need an explanation. He just needs you back. 
Ace gingerly puts his hand on Jozu’s right shoulder, one of the few places the third division commander doesn’t seem to be injured. “Don’t you worry, Jozu. I’ll get them back.” Without another word, he jumps off the ship and onto his Striker. 
“Hang on, Ace.” Marco’s voice of reason calls out to him from the deck of the ship, and Ace silently curses himself for waking him in the first place. “You need a plan. Don’t go charging into this headfirst. It’ll just get you killed.”
“I have a plan!” Ace fibbed. “I’ll be back in the morning with the prisoners.”
“Ace,” Marco starts. It was clear to him that the freckled boy wouldn’t listen to anyone who stood in his way.
“If they get them to Impel Down it’s over and you know it!” Ace’s panic was starting to show. Marco could see his eyes from the deck, wild and desperate like a cornered animal. 
“Tch, you’re always such a hothead.” Marco chided. “Good luck. I’ll relay what happened to Pops, but be prepared for any consequences when you get back.”
Ace grinned and tipped his hat towards Marco. “Good luck here, Marco. Thanks for everything.” The Striker’s engine roared to life once again, and he pulled out your vivre card, ready to follow your compass to hell and back. 
Rescued
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wonbriiize · 5 months
Note
Hi could u write something about wonbin secretly dating the reader who is another idol !! reader is kind of an airhead in her group (who is under SM too!!!) and she’s a really good dancer and she has many fans !! one day she’s invited with 2 of her members to a tv show (like running man, knowing brothers etc) and there is also wonbin and riize members too !!! anyway one MC could make a joke about crushing or wanting to date the reader and wonbin would feel jealous, he then would make sneaky remarks about how he and the reader could make a great couple (so the fans could ship them hahaha) thank youuu
note; this was sm fun to write (and challenging bc i don’t really watch knowing brothers or running man so idk if i did well with writing about it), thank u anon for this request !! i changed it a little tho; instead of wonbin x reader already dating, i wanted to show how wonbin is secretly crushing on reader and gets jealous.. i hope you still like it !! <3 (it’s a bit long i’m sorry ㅜㅜ)
pairing; park wonbin x idol reader
warnings; a little bit of cursing
dancing together
your heart is heart shaking and your hands are sweating when you walk to the set of ‘knowing brothers’. it was your first time ever attending a variety show like this and you were nervous, you want to do your best but you don’t know if you’re variety show potential or not.
it hasn’t been long since your group debuted so you feel even more thankful that ‘knowing brothers’ invited you along with two of your other group members for their next episode.
some people think that they only invited you because you’re SM’s new girlgroup, they think that you guys got the big 3 privilege. what they don’t know is that being in one of the big 3 companies isn’t as much of an easy ride as they make it out to be and you all had demons to fight so you could finally debut.
“oh, they’re also here,” one of your group members softly nudges your side and you follow her gaze, your eyes landing on RIIZE. SM‘s boygroup that debuted a while ago.
“i can‘t believe our managers didn’t tell us that we wouldn’t be the only SM group here,” you whisper to your two group members.
“well, i don‘t mind. i can finally get to know sungchan,” the other group member giggles.
she has been crushing on sungchan since the minute she first landed eyes on him, but because of the fact that their schedule never aligns with your groups schedule, she didn’t really have time to get to know him.
well, none of you guys had the time to get to know any of the RIIZE members.
you try to catch a glimpse of park wonbin, the center of the boygroup.
your members don’t know this, but you’ve been eyeing wonbin for the longest time ever. everytime you guys walk past each other in the company building, you just feel something between the two of you. and you know that you’re not the only one who thinks that way ; especially when wonbin catches you staring and gives you a soft smile.
embarrassing, you think, he saw me staring at him.
what you don’t know about wonbin is that he has been eyeing you the whole time too. the second the company introduced the members for the new girlgroup, he was mesmerized by you. he made it his life’s mission to get to know you.
so the fact that he is here, at ‘knowing brothers’, with some of his group members, and you’re here too — it seems like the perfect opportunity to finally make a move.
when the cameras start rolling, your group enters first. getting hyped up by the people filming, the MC‘s and other guests, you gain confidence and the nervousness you were feeling a few minutes ago starts to fade.
✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.
“oh, *y/n*, we heard that you’re the main dancer of your group,” one of the MC‘s points at you. “so we prepared something especially for you.”
it has been a while since the show started and your nervousness was completely gone, but when the MC grabs after your hand and pulls you to the middle of the supposed classroom, you feel your ears heating up a little.
“do you think you can do it?”
you take a look around the set, seeing how everyone is analyzing you — including wonbin.
you can’t let him see you being insecure. nope, you need to pull off your best.
“of course i can. i‘m the main dancer for a reason,” you smile, hearing your members cheer for you in the background.
the MC‘s stare at you, amazed by your confidence. they’re not the only ones though ; from the side of your eyes you see wonbin looking at you with a big grin on his face.
“seeing you so confident is refreshing, a lot of other idols would feel shy. it’s kind of cute,“ one of the MC‘s raises his eyebrow at you. ew. you’re so not feeling what he just said, but because the cameras are on, you can’t let your discomfort show, so you just laugh.
wonbin doesn’t notice that he put his hand in a fist when the MC called you cute until sungchan put a hand on his shoulder and told him to loosen up.
“you can’t let your jealousy show, wonbin.”
wonbin looks at him, acting like he doesn’t know what sungchan is talking about.
“jealous? why would i be jealous? i‘m not jealous.”
sungchan doesn’t answer, he just raises his eyebrows and grins at wonbin.
“the random dance play starts now!” the MC suddenly announces which brings wonbin’s whole attention back to you.
while the countdown to the first song started, the same MC who called you cute, walks closer to you . “a little spoiler; at some point, bite me by enhypen will play. i will jump in to do the partner dance with you.”
you had no choice but to press your lips together and smile. remember, it’s all for the show, you tell yourself.
the MC thought he was being slick with walking closer to you to tell you that, but he wasn’t as quiet as he probably intended to be because wonbin heard it. he heard what the MC told you.
“who does he think he is?” wonbin whispers to himself. “i‘m not going to let that happen.”
so far, the dances on the random dance play were all that you’ve done dance challenges to, so it wasn’t really hard. you were doing very good if you could say so yourself.
but the constant panic that keeps arising within you whenever the next song is supposed to play (because you just didn’t want to dance to bite me with the MC) is making it hard for you to focus.
and when the song finally plays, you close your eyes for the first few seconds because you weren’t ready for what’s about to happen.
taking a deep breath in and out, you open them again.. only to see wonbin right next to you, leading the dance.
wait? what?
you’re trying your best to not let the confusion show; why is he here? did he really just come up to dance with you? why would he do that?
the dance goes smoothly, it’s like the two of you were meant to dance together.
not to mention the fireworks that are exploding inside of you right now and they only grow bigger everytime wonbin even slightly touches you.
the whole time, wonbin is trying his hardest to not grin like an idiot because he’s enjoying this so much. he couldn’t care less about what everyone is thinking right now. for him, nothing else matters other than dancing together with you.
the music stops and you two freeze, just looking into each others eyes for a moment until you realize that you’re in public right now and everything is being filmed.
quickly, you bow to wonbin as a thank you and turn away from him to face the MC‘s (who are looking at you with big smiles).
“park wonbin,” the MC, who has been hitting on you the whole time, calls out.
wonbin turns to him, nodding. “yes?”
“you‘re quite the show stealer. and partner.”
wonbin doesn’t let himself get thrown offguard. instead, he puts on his best smile.
“i just thought that a main dancer should dance with another dancer. i didn’t intend to steal your moment, sir.. and also, don’t we look good together?” wonbin smiles at you.
the MC analyzes wonbin for a quick moment until he lets out the biggest laugh. “honestly, you danced way better than i could ever have. you matched *y/n*s energy very well and it’s true that you look good together.. almost like a couple.”
the other MC nodds in agreement. “seeing you two dance together makes me want to wish for a collab stage between the two of you in the future.”
now wonbin’s eyes wander over to you. his smile is so infectious that you feel the corners of your lips going up as well.
“well, *y/n*, let’s talk to our managers about this idea and make it happen.”
✧˖°.⁺‧˚ ♡ ˚‧⁺ ✧˖°.
“and.. cut! we are done!”
you let out a breath of relief. your first ever ‘knowing brothers’ appearance has offically ended. even though you enjoyed it, you can’t wait to go back to your dorm and just rest.
your members feel the same way.
“let us go change quickly,” one of them says when you guys walk to the backstage area.
somehow, your mind is still stuck on wonbin. you can’t believe what had happened. it feels like some kind of dream, or just something that you’ve imagined.
there’s no way that park wonbin wanted to dance with me, you just can’t seem to believe it.
being all in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that someone had walked up next to you.
“hey,” wonbin softly touches your shoulder which makes you stop walking.
“you were a great dance partner earlier.”
not being able to answer (because you can’t grasp the fact that he’s standing right in front of you), you just smile.
talk, say something, you pressure yourself. don’t look like an idiot in front of him right now when you’ve tried to show your best side the whole day.
“i should honestly thank you. really, i mean it. we did well together.”
wonbin smiles, his eyes sparkling, making it look like he has stars shining inside of them.
“i hope we can dance together sometime in the future too. and i don’t mean the collab stage.. i mean privately. like, only the two of us..”
wonbin can’t believe he just said that. it took him all the guts in the world but he’s happy that it’s out in the open, he’s happy to finally have the courage to ask you out (which is what he has been wanting to do for months).
hold on-
park wonbin?? is asking ME out??
you try your hardest to not stop breathing at this very moment.
“as in a date?”
wonbin scratches the back of his head. “yes.. uhm.. unless i was just imaging things and you don’t really want to get to know me the same way i want to get to know you.”
you stare at him while the fireworks you were feeling earlier are making a comeback.
“shit, yeah, maybe this was too much. i should probably just lea-” you cut wonbin off.
“i would love to dance with you again. privately.”
you’ve seen wonbin being all smiley the whole day but right now, you see the biggest smile on his face ever. as if he’s a little kid and someone gave him tons of sweets.
“cool.. more than cool. amazing. would you mind giving me your number so i can hit you up with the details later?”
you shake your head laughingly while typing in your number on wonbin’s phone.
once you give it back to him, his smile only grows bigger.
“okay, yeah.. i will text you. for sure. i just have to leave now, as you probably saw; sungchan keeps messaging me. uhm.. i can’t wait to see you again.”
before you could reply, wonbin turns around and you could swear that you heard him giggle while he excitedly walked (almost galloping) away.
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daddyricsdoll · 5 months
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Friends? ✭ Ollie Bearman
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Summary: You and Ollie were just friends, no matter how much your feelings grew or your need for his lips against yours. Well that was what you thought when you found someone else to put your mind to for the evening, but maybe not with Ollie's furrowed brows and glares.
Warnings: Unprotected sex
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: If only the things I write were true. Based off of this request. Please Enjoy!!
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My hands clench around the handle of my suitcase as I walk out of the doors of the Abu Dhabi international airport. Expecting to be greeted by my Ollie, and I was right when my eyes made contact with his brown ones. A wide grin compliments his pigmented cheeks as we both make quick steps toward each other.
Simultaneously our arms wrap around the other for a refreshing and long awaited embrace. I had missed him, my dear friend I love too much that others claim it’s more than friendship. But he’s so oblivious that I’ve had to shut my feelings down, but every time he speaks a word to me or brushes against my skin, it lingers, and it’s not like I want it to stop.
I finally realise we still both hold each other before I suddenly let go and we pull away. He looks at me with that one smile everyone knows, but this one has a glint in his eyes that I know all too well, not from the times he’s looked at me but other girls that have run after him at races or passed him on the streets. I want to give in, I want to grab him, but then comes the reminder of him claiming we’re great friends, but who said friends can’t be more? Especially if we're already great together. 
Just seconds later it’s like I break out of this “trance” and I see that I’m seated in the backseat with Ollie next to me. We catch each other up on everything, what he did during his break when we weren’t together or my uneventful life without him.
I have to keep reminding myself that we can’t be more than what we already are, which brings me to my conclusion of finding a distraction, or something better than Ollie- if it exists. I hear his soothing voice again and then I make out the words he tells me. “There’s a party, well an event kind of thing tonight, all of the drivers will be there as well as a few other important people and I just wanted to see if you wanted to come?” It takes me a few moments to think of my answer, but I eventually nod and we both plan our arrival together. 
Four hours go by fast and the next thing me and Ollie sit next to each other in a taxi, going to the venue of the event. Ollie wears a simple black suit with a white dress shirt as I wear an elegant black dress that displays my curves but doesn’t expose too much skin, acknowledging the event and country. 
We walk in together, soon dispersing when he generates good conversation with someone. I decide to grab myself a drink in hopes it’ll grow my confidence to meet someone new. As I ask the bartender for a drink I hear my name being called by a familiar voice, it belongs to none other than Paul Aron.
Paul had always been so kind and welcoming, making nearly everyone fall head over heels for him, me included. When we first met, his charm didn’t fail with me, and I had dreamt of what his lips would feel like. But now I’ve grown to know him and realised his charm, is him. So I had lost some of my feelings but he still never falls short to make me blush. “Hey Paul” I give him a soft smile and we exchange a short but comfortable hug. “It has been so long, hasn’t it? I missed your face.” He states and we both chuckle.
“Likewise. I’m surprised you recognise me.” The light hearted joke leaves my mouth freely.
“Oh I could never forget you, you’re too good.” I couldn’t distinguish if that comment was platonic or meant more, so I give him a kind smile and hope I don’t give off the wrong sign. 
We carry on a relaxed conversation, frequently giggling and brushing hands. We both notice Ollie from across the room and when his eyes meet mine I give him my signature smile, before I watch his brows furrow as his eyes glance at my hand that sits millimetres away from Paul’s. He looks back up and Paul waves at him, in reply Ollie turns his head which encourages me to excuse myself and make my way to him.
He watches me as I get closer with each step, a questioning look on my face as I finally reach him. “What’s up?” I ask him softly and his reply of “nothing” forces me to grab his hand and drag him out of the room. I walk through the long hallway and find a door that hides a moonlight sunroom. I shut the door once both of our bodies stand under the stars and I stare at Ollie in silence, observing him. His deep eyes look into mine and a smirk curls on his lips. I tilt my head to the side and try to hide the smile that begs to curl on my lips. 
“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?” 
“I already told you, nothing’s wrong.” He utters in his soft British accent. 
“Oh, ok then. Well if nothing’s wrong then I’ll just go back to Paul.”
“No” He says immediately, one of his calloused hands grabs my arm. “Why?”
“Because, I don’t want you to go with him.” A sigh leaves my mouth and I try to keep calm, but also not wave away the problem because of the way he looks at me with that face or when he takes a step closer so both of his hands can brush against my skin. 
“Why?” I ask him in a whisper, and he gives me the same answer, just like I had given him the same question. “Why do you think that you have control over who I talk to?”
“Because I know it’s not just going to be talking” He looks down at me and matches the sound of my voice. “Ok, maybe you’re right, but what’s so wrong with more than talking? Can’t I do what other people my age do? Or is it something with Paul?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with Paul, but if you want to do “things that people your age do” don’t do it Paul.”
“Oh ok then, then tell me, who am I supposed to do it with Ollie?”
“You can’t possibly ask me this question like you seriously don’t know who would take care of you best and learn every part of you to make you satisfied. Did you notice what you do? Teasing me with those long hugs and short kisses on my cheek that you call “platonic” or whenever you cuddle me when we watch movies together and you’re the first person waiting for me when I finish a race. You can’t do all of that and then go after him. What has he done for you? What can he do? I bet he can’t touch you like I will, or if he kisses you. You know that I’m better, you would probably wish that it was me? Wouldn’t you?” 
His face inches closer to mine and hands slide around my waist. My breath becomes uneven but I don’t lose eye contact with him. “What makes you so sure of that?” I breathe out, barely audible. “Let me prove it to you, let me show you how good you’ll feel. You won’t think of Paul again.”
One of his hands grab the back of my neck and pull my head toward his, our lips colliding and they instantly mould against the other like they were destined for each other. My hands wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to me before and feeling his warmth along my whole body. I stand on my tippy toes and intertwine my hands together behind his neck.
Ollie grips the back of my thighs and pulls me up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. We broke the kiss so I could lay open mouthed kisses on his neck and my desire for him grew every second that his hips would grind against mine. His umber eyes glistened and I couldn’t tell if the stars I saw in them were a reflection from the sky or a display of his delicacy.
He was always a masterpiece to look at, pigmented cheeks, a light shade of my favourite roses, a smile worth more than the moon and eyes that make you feel so many emotions of love. And oh don’t get me started on every other part of him, his voice, the one that hugs me, makes me feel so giddy even my knees buckle and go weak. Before I felt his touch I only wanted it but now, oh it’s a need.
He puts me back on my feet just to lower me to the ground, my back makes contact with the cold floor, and my eyes make contact with the moon and the stars. His body hovers over mine and he plants kisses along my skin as he leisurely moves lower and lower. Oh the feeling of his lips that kiss my insecurities and heal my scars, I just wish I could get every nanometer engraved and memorised on my lips and body and mind. 
Ollie lifts my hips to pull the fabric of my dress up and then over my head. He places my body flat on the floor as he looks at me with parted lips and wonder melting in his eyes. “You’re so beautiful” He says in advance of his hands pulling my panties down and body inching closer and closer to mine. I watch him unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants. 
“Ready to forget about Paul?” I was forming my response until he swiftly lifted my hips up and thrust into me. My breath immediately hitches and a short moan leaves my mouth as I grow comfortable to the stretch. His groan was like a melody to my ears, before he released a hushed curse and made another ram into me. Ollie readjusts my legs so they hang over his shoulders and he manages to get even deeper inside of me than before. My hips lightly grind against his, adding friction to my clit and whines emit from my mouth. 
“Tell me, would Paul do this to you? Fuck you under the stars?” His words brought me to surprise, but it was a surprise that I would happily get used to, as long as it was him. 
“N-no” I choke out my response as he drives in me at a consistent pace, fast and rough but tender and sensitive. His head lingers above mine until my hands tangle into his now tousled hair and pull him closer to me. Our lips fuse together in a powerful kiss, one where we share each other under the moonlight, finally. After months of pining and wishing to know what it feels like, I ultimately do, we both do. 
A moan releases from my mouth into his as the knot in my stomach becomes tighter and tighter, just waiting for the last motion to make it snap. “You gonna cum?” He mumbles against my lips and suddenly all words leave my vocabulary, but moans come out pretty easily. My head nods up and down eagerly and he snaps his hips the last few times just enough to make me release with a loud whine. Ollie’s thrusts become less consistent and I feel him spasm inside of me before his cum fills me. He rides both of our highs out before halting deep inside of me. Our breathing soon matches and his head lowers beside mine, just enough so he can whisper in my ear.
“Do you think Pau-” We both chuckle as I quickly cut him off.
“No. Only you Ollie, only you.”
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The Eye of the Hurricane [17] - Disagreements
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: Petty fights can start out of nowhere.
Word Count: 2800
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
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Waking up and not finding Bucky in bed next to you wasn’t unfamiliar to you.
He always woke up before you, but this was the first time you were hearing a second, very familiar voice booming through the house and you sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes.
What on earth was your father doing in your apartment this early on in the morning?
You pushed the covers off of you and looked around the room for Alpine but she wasn’t there either. Grabbing the first thing you found -which turned out to be one of Bucky’s crisp white button up shirts- you pulled it over your tank top and shorts, then went downstairs, following the voices.
“If this has been your plan all along,” your father’s stern voice reached your ear from Bucky’s office, “I swear to God—”
“I don’t have any plans,” Bucky’s much calmer voice replied and you pulled your brows together, approaching the doorframe but still shielding yourself from their gaze. Alpine meowed when she saw you, running to you but neither of them seemed to notice it.
“No?” your father asked. “So this is not some sort of elaborate plot to take over my territory?”
“Not at all.”
“Then why was she having a briefing with Rogers?”
“Because I don’t think my wife should be kept out of the business entirely,” Bucky said as you bent down to scratch at Alpine’s head before straightening your back again. “It’s the new generation, we do things differently now.”
Your father let out a furious breath.
“Listen,” he said. “I don’t care what you do with your own business, but if you’re putting ideas into my daughter’s head—”
“Arthur, she’s smart as fuck, you do realize that?” Bucky snapped, making you smirk. “There’s no idea I can put into her head that she hasn’t thought about to begin with.”
“Not to mention,” you said and stepped into the office, making both of them turn to look at you. “She has a phone. So if you wanted to see me, you could just let me know.”
Your father gritted his teeth and stole a look at Bucky. “Give us a minute.”
If it were anyone else, you were sure they would be hurrying off to the door because you had seen your father intimidate countless men throughout your life, but Bucky didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest as he leaned back to his desk.
“This is my house,” he replied, making your father blink a couple of times.
“And I’d like a moment alone with my daughter.”
Bucky turned to look at you as if silently asking if you wanted him to leave and you shook your head, then crossed your arms.
“Anything you want to say, you can say it in front of my husband,” you told him, making Bucky grin proudly. “So?”
Your father’s glare at you was enough to make the sudden chill of nervousness shoot through you, but you didn’t let it show on your face as he shook his head.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Nothing,” you said. “I literally woke up to you guys’ yelling to be honest—”
“Having a meeting with Rogers,” he cut you off impatiently as if he didn’t have the time for your jokes. “What is that about?”
You let a smirk pull your lips.
“Did Ian come and cry to you about it?” you asked. “Honestly.”
“He did let me know, yes,” he said. “As he was supposed to. Seeing that you weren’t planning on telling me about it, I’m glad he did.”
“You have your messenger boy there already,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s clear you don’t need me to tell you anything.”
He took a deep breath like he was trying his hardest to stay calm and you stole a look at Bucky who gave you an assuring smile, watching you two.
“Sweetheart,” he said, the slight condescending tone in his voice making you clench your jaw. “I know that you want to be a part of the business, and Bucky is for some reason fueling this nonsense, but—”
“He’s not fueling anything,” you growled. “I happen to have my own mind, unlike what you seem to think.”
“Y/N—”
“I mean who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
“Okay!” Bucky cut you two off before your father could answer. “Can I suggest we all calm down before anyone says anything they might regret?”
Both you and your father looked at him before turning to glare at each other again and your father pursed his lips, heaving a sigh.
“I’m not trying to patronize you,” he said and you raised your brows.
“Might be too late for that.”
“But I need you to be safe,” he said, making Bucky frown for the first time. “And becoming a part of the business…”
“To repeat, I can make my own decisions.”
“I’m not putting her in danger, Arthur,” Bucky said, his voice calm despite the stern expression on his face. “You know I would never.”
“Right,” your father scoffed and gave you a warning look. “Y/N, I mean it. What you’re trying to do—”
“What makes you think I’m trying to do anything?”
“Because I wrote the playbook you’re following,” your father replied. “I taught you every single trick, and now you’re going to turn around and treat me like I’m clueless?”
You clicked your tongue, tilting your head.
“I’m not doing anything that you haven’t been doing with me for years now,” you said. “You pushed me out of the picture, you’ve been treating me with kid gloves and you have the audacity to give me that speech right now?”
He ran a hand over his face.
“I’m only doing what your mother would like, for you.”
You let out a breath, crossing your arms over your chest.
“No,” you said. “You’re doing what you would like, for me. And I’m done letting you.”
You could see a muscle in his jaw ticking as he glared at you for a couple of seconds, then took a deep breath.
“We will talk later when you’re calmer,” he said and stormed out of the office before you heard the front door slam. You rolled your eyes and turned to Bucky who gave you a tight-lipped smile.
“Good morning,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?” you asked back and Bucky waved a hand in the air.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Hungry though. Breakfast?”
You huffed out a laugh and nodded your head.
“Yes please,” you said. “Jesus, what a morning.”
                                               *
It wasn’t that you kept the fact that you were meeting Ethan this afternoon a secret, it was just that you didn’t think Bucky needed to know about it. This marriage was fake yes, and it wasn’t like you were having a secret affair meeting, you two were just friends and it was a normal gather up with your friend.
Or at least, that’s what you had been trying to convince yourself of the whole morning.
You drummed your fingernails on the table and reached out to grab your cup to take a sip of your latte, but lowered it when the wind bells by the door chimed and your gaze fell on Ethan. He looked around the café, then gave you a small smile and approached you as you stood up.
“Hey,” he said, giving you a curt hug and you smiled as he pulled back, then sat down again.
“Hi,” you said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you two,” he said as he sat down and ordered a coffee. “How have you been?”
“Good,” you said. “You?”
“Busy a bit. You look—” he paused for a moment when his eyes fell upon your wedding ring. “Married.”
You let out a nervous laugh and heaved a sigh.
“Mm hm.”
He pursed his lips together and took a deep breath.
“I owe you an apology,” he said, making you shake your head.
“Ethan…”
“I do,” he said. “I’m—It was stupid to say all that shit. Trust me, I wanted to text and apologize so many times, I just didn’t think you wanted to hear my voice.”
You rolled your eyes at him in a lighthearted manner.
“Ethan, you happen to be the only person in my life who’s not…” you trailed off and he gave you a small smile.
“Who’s not following the same career path?”
You clicked your tongue. “That’s one way to put it,” you said, making him chuckle. “So yeah, I reacted badly as well. I was very tense when we had that conversation.”
He offered his hand. “Truce then?”
You scoffed a laugh, then reached out to shake his hand.
“Everyone knows I’m a big fan of truce,” you said and he grinned, then thanked the waitress when she brought his coffee.
“So,” he said after taking a sip of his coffee. “How is it then? Do guns go off when you and Barnes enter the building or…?”
You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Ethan.”
“Do you guys do that Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit?”
“Wrong movie reference.”
He held up his hands, gesturing surrender.
“Does he still dislike me?”
The correct and honest answer would be that Bucky didn’t even think about Ethan, at least in your opinion. Not only did he have bigger problems what with HYDRA and their attacks in the city, his dynamic with the other bosses were bound to get tense with you officially becoming a part of the business.
So, he was probably too busy to sit around and think about Ethan.
“Nah I don’t think so,” you managed to say, leaning back. “That night at the club, I know he was an asshole but we were…things were weird between us then.”
“I’d say so,” he said, and licked his lips. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” you said. “As long as I can answer it hypothetically, that is.”
“Is it real?”
That managed to make you pull back slightly and you blinked a couple of times before heaving a sigh.
“I don’t understand what you—”
“Because I’d like to think that we had something, back at college,” he said, making your brows furrow. “And that night at the club, you weren’t looking at him like…I could’ve sworn you hated him, Y/N.”
“Like I said, things were weird between us then,” you muttered, turning the coffee cup in this saucer and he shook his head.
“And it changed that fast?” he asked. “Listen, I’m going to shut up if you don’t want me to talk about this, but if it’s not real—”
“If it’s not real, you’ll save me?” you asked with a scoff. “I’m not some princess in a castle Ethan.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware.”
“Hypothetically, even if it weren’t—”
“Hypothetically,” he cut you off. “I’d happily wait for your divorce.”
That made you stop talking as your eyes snapped up to his and you gawked at him in a dumbfounded silence.
Ah.
Alright, this was…
The idea was quite lovely, to be honest. As you had told Becca, being with Ethan would be so simple, he was a civilian so there would be no ulterior motives or plotting or any of the tension you knew each and every couple in business had. Not only that, but Bucky had broken your heart so terribly all those years ago and you were sure that if you decided to see or treat this marriage like a real marriage, he would do it again.
Unlike Ethan.
Dear God, it would be so peaceful.
But you knew you couldn’t deal with whatever this was when you were going for your father’s crown. This right here was a distraction, and you couldn’t entertain the idea of a distraction.
You clicked your tongue and sat up straighter, checking the time.
“Sorry, I just remembered I had this thing,” you muttered, desperate to get away and he stood up as you did.
“Y/N,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry if that sounded—”
“No no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I don’t…I get what you mean, I really do. And as much as I know you mean well, saying this now is very disrespectful to Bucky so I’d rather if we didn’t speak about this again.”
He pursed his lips and nodded his head.
“Understood,” he said. “I won’t, I promise.”
“I’ll see you later, okay?” you asked and gave him a short hug, then walked out of the café, your heart beating fast.
“What the fuck was that?” you muttered to yourself as you got into your car and let out a breath, then started driving.
                                                         *
As you walked into the Barnes skyscraper, you were still trying to comprehend just why the hell, out of all things to say to Ethan, you had chosen ‘disrespect to Bucky’ as your answer. What Ethan had said wasn’t even so bad, you had been reminding Bucky that you two would eventually get a divorce and even talk about all the things you’d do on your second wedding and marriage to someone else, but when Ethan so much as mentioned waiting for your divorce, you had decided to draw the line?
This was rather absurd.
You rolled your shoulders back as someone escorted you to the elevator and pressed the button for you and you checked your reflection in the mirror until you got to the top floor and the doors opened.
“I can find my way, thank you,” you said told the bodyguard and walked out of the elevator to make your way to Bucky’s office.
“Is he in?” you asked the receptionist who stood up when she saw you.
“Yes ma’am.”
“Great, thank you,” you said and knocked on the door, then opened it to step inside. Bucky was sitting behind his desk, his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on the computer screen, but he turned his head when he saw you and raised his brows.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” you said and approached the couch to fling yourself on it, crossing your legs. “So my father didn’t call me after this morning, has George called you?”
“No.”
The curt answer made you tilt your head and you frowned at him.
“Have you heard from anyone else?” you asked. “Because I feel like—”
“How was lunch with Ethan?”
That made you stop talking and you raised your brows, your stomach doing a flip.
“Are you having me followed?” you asked sharply through your teeth and he let out a bitter chuckle.
“I don’t need to have you followed,” he said. “You met the guy in my territory in case you forgot.”
You licked your lips, crossing your arms defiantly.
“So what, am I supposed to report back to you every single thing I do now?”
“I think I’d like to know if you’re meeting your ex -who by the way, still wants to fuck you- like a week after our wedding, yeah,” he shot back, making your jaw drop.
“Easy there, cowboy.”
“Y/N we had an agreement—”
“Does it look like I’m sleeping with him from where you’re sitting?” you asked. “I know the agreement. You don’t sleep with anyone else and neither do I, until our divorce.”
“Then?”
“Then I can have lunch with whoever I want.”
“To repeat, he wants to—”
“It was a friendly lunch and he just apologized for reacted badly when I told him we would be getting married,” you defended yourself hurriedly, knowingly leaving out the part Ethan said about your potential divorce and Bucky rolled his eyes.
“Oh I wonder why he reacted badly to us getting married,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “What could it be? Any ideas?”
God damn it.
“This is not even a real marriage,” you hissed as you leaned in, careful not to speak too loud in case anyone outside could hear. “Or did you forget about that part?”
“Did you forget about the part we’re supposed to act madly in love?” he asked back, his voice calm unlike yours and even though he did have a point, the petulant part of you refused to acknowledge it, so you did the first thing you thought of and got up from the couch.
“I’m done talking about this.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m done I said!” you snapped over your shoulder and walked out of the office without looking back, making your way to the elevator. Your heart was beating in your ears and you grabbed your phone, and touched Becca’s name as the doors closed, the elevator moving.
“Hey,” Becca’s voice reached you. “What’s up?”
“I snapped at Ethan for disrespecting Bucky and then snapped at Bucky within the same hour,” you said and she paused for a moment, then hummed.
“I’m getting the wine ready,” she said. “Grab some sushi on your way here?”
“You got it,” you said and hung up the phone, then leaned your head back to the elevator wall. “What the actual fuck am I doing?”
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oddinary4bts · 8 months
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When the End Comes | ch 2 (jjk)
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☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)
☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut
☆warnings: moving, curses, alochol, explicit content: female and male masturbation, pain kink (Jungkook), mentions of blowjob and penetrative sex
☆word count: 8.7k
☆series masterpost
☆a/n: I don't even know what to say about this chapter, just that I FEEL their pain so much :'( justice for my babies
☆a/n pt2: Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3
☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!
☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)
☆☆☆☆☆
But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes
When the End Comes, Andrew Belle
☆☆☆☆☆
Thursday, July 6th
                Days and weeks have passed. Apparently, even months have. Jungkook hasn’t really noticed – he’s been stuck in a daze, stuck replaying your breakup over and over again. Wishing he’d begged you to stay, though he could tell that nothing would have been fruitful.
You had made your decision already.
He hasn’t done anything since you left. Hasn’t left your apartment except for looking for a new one, when Yoongi forced him to go. Because alone, he can’t afford the one you had together. And it’s too filled with memories anyway.
All the pictures on the shelves by the window, turned towards the wall the night you left. The echo of your laugh, in every room he steps in. The ghost of you, just a silhouette he can’t ever reach when it’s dark and his mind is playing tricks on him.
The night you left, he thought it was a joke. A sick, twisted prank, and he believed you’d come back. When hours passed and dawn approached, he got up from the spot where he was sitting in, near the door, and turned the pictures towards the wall before heading to bed.
He hadn’t been able to sleep in the bed, and he’d slept with Bam directly on the floor.
A few nights later he’d made an actual bed with blankets on the floor, and he’s been sleeping there since then. But not tonight – tonight he’ll try sleeping in bed, in his new apartment.
A space that shouldn’t remind him of you too much.
He’s packed almost everything before today. He had nothing else to do, and it served to keep his mind busy during the long hours of the day. At night he usually has nothing to keep his mind from going to you, and he thinks he’s stuck in the moment when you left.
It’s a looped film in his mind, a horror movie that will forever haunt him.
The boys are helping. They brought most of the boxes he’s packed to his new place already, a small studio in the same building as Yoongi and Kiko. It’s on the other side of town, far from where he built a life with you, and he really hopes your ghost won’t follow.
Though he doubts he’ll ever escape it.
Everyone is currently doing a trip to the other apartment, except Jungkook and Yoongi. Mostly because Jungkook has been standing in the empty living room, save for the pictures on the shelves.
You left with the couch and the dinner table, telling him to keep the TV even though you were the one to buy it years ago. And that day you came to pick up your stuff…
Another haunting moment to add to the long list that’s been tormenting him since you broke up.
He shuts his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, jaw clenching as the familiar ache takes over his heart. He doesn’t want to cry today – at least not before he’s alone in his new place. Because he hates how his friends are concerned, hates that he can’t just stay home alone.
None of them understand the sorrow that’s been plaguing him – hell, all of them except Jimin are happily dating. A dirty, ugly part of him hates them for it, and he’s been trying to distance himself.
“You good?” Yoongi asks, startling him.
Jungkook’s hand falls to his side, and he forces his eyes open. Yoongi is next to him, an eyebrow cocked in question. “Yeah.”
“Do you want me to put these in a box?” Yoongi enquires, and Jungkook clenches his fist as Yoongi’s pointing to the pictures.
“I can take care of it.”
It takes him a few seconds before he does get in motion, and he heads to the shelves. There’s already a box waiting for the frames, one Taehyung put there earlier before Jungkook told him not to touch anything.
“Do you want help?” Yoongi asks carefully.
Jungkook steels himself as he grabs the first picture. He already knows which it is, from its placement on the shelf. It’s one of his exhibit’s pictures. The one he titled ‘Where I found hope again’. It’s the sunset from the living room of the apartment he’d found for you.
Seeing it hurts, but he barely pays attention to it, carefully putting it in the box before grabbing the next one. There you are, cheeks red and smile bright in the snow of December, and he feels like dying as he remembers the name of that one.
‘Where I learned to love again’. It feels like it’s laughing at him right now, like life is having a good laugh at his expense. He wants to throw it away, to burn and watch your beautiful form crumbling into ashes.
Instead, he puts it away, before moving to the next one. He thinks he goes blind – he doesn’t see the next pictures. Doesn’t focus on any of them, and lets the ache take over his action, over his heart. When he’s done, he realizes that the apartment is once again filled with voices – none of them being the right one, and he wishes to be alone.
Wishes to be allowed to crumble, to let himself be carried by the wind.
The rest of the day is a blur. He barely remembers getting to his new place, riding shotgun next to Jimin while Taehyung and Namjoon talked about something on the backseat. Jimin was silent, respecting Jungkook’s need to not speak, and maybe it’s for that reason that Jungkook says yes when Jimin asks if he wants some company when the others finally start filing out at the end of the day.
They all hug him tight, tell him that they love him and hope he’ll like his new place. With everything placed, Jungkook knows that he’ll always hate it, because it lacks the only thing that he truly wants – you.
And he’ll never have that again.
“Want to order something?” Jimin asks.
Jungkook is sitting on a kitchen chair, watching the condensation on his glass of water when Jimin speaks. He raises his head – his friend is scrolling on his phone, and he shoots Jungkook a look as he remains silent.
“Sure,” Jungkook finally answers. “Did you have anything in mind?”
Jimin nods. “There’s this great dumpling place nearby, and they deliver.”
“Oh.”
If Jimin notices Jungkook’s lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t mention. Because Jimin is a good friend – he’s been one of Jungkook’s closest friends for years for a reason after all.
“Pork and green onion works for you?” Jimin asks.
“Sure.”
“I’ll get the marinated cucumbers too.” Jimin pouts at his phone as he focuses, and then his gaze darts once to Jungkook. “Anything else you want? They got bobas too.”
Just thinking about drinking boba makes Jungkook feel nauseated, so he shakes his head no. Jimin purses his lips, nods curtly and then says the food is on its way.
His statement is followed by silence, until the front door opens as Yoongi returns with Bam, as promised. Kiko was taking care of him all day, since she and Yoongi live in the same building. Yoongi promises that Bam was a good boy, and then he leaves again, nodding his head at Jimin.
As if to say ‘thank you for being here’. Jungkook hates the gesture, hates that he let Jimin stay, but he figures he can always just ask him to leave when they’re done with the food.
He had to eat anyway, right?
Needless to say, his appetite has been off, since the day you left. He’s been working out more though, something to keep his mind busy, but he’s been unable to eat like before. Jimin forces him to eat half the dumplings though, and Jungkook reckons that even after everything, dumplings still slap.
Not a lot of things in life still slap without you around.
One thing that does suck is, Jimin tries to make conversation through dinner. He asks Jungkook if he has any project coming up, if he ever plans on returning to Europe. The answer is easy, and Jungkook gives it without an ounce of hesitation.
“No.”
Jimin cocks an eyebrow, as if surprised by his answer. “Why?”
Jungkook grits his teeth, but offers no answers. He thinks it’s obvious – he’s been hating the European continent ever since the night you left because he can’t bring himself to hate you instead. So he directed it to the place that took you from him, and so far it’s been keeping him going.
“You know…” Jimin carefully says. “We’ve all been avoiding talking about it. But how are you even doing, bro? Every time I see you it’s just…”
Worse. He’s convinced that’s what Jimin was going to say, and he doesn’t blame him. It’s worse every time because he has been getting worse. As if adding another mark on the calendar equals to adding another on his heart, and the wounds haven’t had time to heal.
He doesn’t think there’s enough time in a lifetime to heal from losing you.
“I’m okay,” Jungkook lies easily.
Bam offers him salvation, barking by the door. As he rarely does, Jungkook gets up, a frown moving on his features. Jimin lets him go, even as Jungkook mumbles he’ll take the dog outside. His friend remains silent, and Jungkook is able to slip into the evening without Jimin pressing him about the lie.
As Jungkook had assumed, Bam just needed to pee, and probably barked because of the unfamiliar environment. Jungkook debates taking him on a walk, hoping Jimin would be gone by the time he comes back, but it feels too cowardly, even for him.
So he takes Bam in right away – the walk would have been hell anyway.
Jimin hasn’t moved while he was gone, and Jungkook tries to avoid the conversation by cleaning the table, putting away the empty dumpling container in the recycling bin after he’s rinsed it thoroughly. He feels Jimin’s gaze boring into the back of his head, but he does his best to ignore it.
“You shouldn’t drop your job in Europe,” Jimin suddenly says.
Jungkook whips around from his spot by the counter under which the recycling bin is. “What?”
“Isn’t it…” Jimin winces, shaking his head slightly. “Listen, this will be tough love, but isn’t it losing everything if you just… drop it too?”
Jungkook sees red. “Get the fuck out.”
“Bro.”
“Get the fuck out,” he repeats, putting emphasis on each word.
“We’re just worried about you,” Jimin says carefully, still not moving from where he’s sitting.
Jungkook has half a thought that he could carry his friend out if he wanted to, but surprisingly enough his heart breaks in his chest, tears blinding his vision.
“I just can’t go, okay?” he chokes out, and his nails dig in the palm of his hands as he clenches his fists hard. “I just can’t.”
Jimin watches him carefully, before sighing deeply. “Okay. It’s okay. There’s plenty of stuff you can do here too.”
Jungkook gulps, blinking the tears away until Jimin is clear in front of him again. “Can I…”
He stops, because he knows he shouldn’t ask. Knows he shouldn’t care, yet he can’t help himself. Jimin doesn’t press, waits for him to be able to speak. It takes longer than Jungkook thought possible, and he has to shut his eyes and lean against the counter before he finds words again.
“Can I ask how she has been doing?” he voices, words falling softly, almost soundlessly, in the space between them.
“Jungkook…”
“Just,” Jungkook lets out, eyes shooting open. “Please tell me she’s okay.”
Jimin’s silence is telling enough – you must be going through it too. It fills Jungkook with bitterness, with something vile and disgusting that tastes like bile on his tongue. Because you don’t get to be suffering, you don’t get to have made this decision and suffer from it.
Why the fuck did you make that decision then?
“You know,” Jimin starts carefully. “You guys were together for a long time.”
“Why?” Jungkook asks. “Why did she do this?”
And then the tears are moving freely, and Jimin quickly gets up to hug him. Jungkook rests his forehead against his friend’s shoulder as he breaks in the embrace, like he’s been doing for weeks now.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jimin promises when the tears recede and Jungkook stops trembling, as if his body, too, is too tired to keep on breaking.
Strangely, he gets the feeling there’s nothing left to break anyway.
“How?”
Jimin remains silent for a while, as if searching for the exact right words to say. Jungkook doubts they exist – how can someone repair a broken heart such as his?
“Life finds a way,” Jimin eventually chooses to say. He pulls away from the hug, though he still holds onto Jungkook’s shoulders. “Life always finds a way.”
Saturday, July 15th
                You’re tired. Have been tired. Think you’ll forever be tired. A relentless exhaustion has settled over you like a mantle of snow settles on the land during the months of winter. With it comes an unshakable cold, and even though it’s summer you’ve been cradling your hoodie to your frame, draping yourself with it as if it’ll chase the cold away.
The cold is never going to leave. You think your heart turned to ice in your chest, and it pumps freezing blood into your veins. You’ve been trying to warm up, but heat is a mirage to you, an illusion you can’t reach.
Heather and Bridget are hosting a dinner at their apartment today. You’d wanted to avoid it, but considering they offered you a room for a few weeks before you found a new apartment, you couldn’t say no. Yet you dread the moment you’ll be faced with the other girls, some of them your friends because they are dating… his friends.
You’ve been trying not to think about him too much. It’s hard – he’s lurking at the back of your mind, a reminder of your failures. Of the places where you went wrong, the mistakes you committed. Not that the breakup was a mistake – you think you made the right decision, or at least you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you have.
But you didn’t lie to him – you love him. Still do, though now it’s more like grief. Though, what is grief if not the next step in the eternal timeline of love?
You worry at your lips, bury your hands in the pocket of the hoodie. You fumble with your keys as you wait in front of the door, as you try to knock but find you’re unable to. Because it means talking to them, it means pretending that you have been able to eat or sleep for weeks.
You reckon Heather and Bridget know, to a certain extent. Saw you wither like a flower when autumn comes, though you think now you’re settled in deep winter.
You think it’ll pass. You doubt a pain like this can last – no soul can withstand it forever. But that would be admitting that he was your soulmate, and you aren’t stupid.
Soulmates don’t exist. Because if he was, why then was the distance enough to break you up?
You sigh, eyes falling to the ground in front of your feet. You take a steadying breath – it does nothing to help.
You’re a coward. You’ve become a coward, and you think it might be because you put all of your courage in that night weeks ago. It broke you, broke the steel you used to be able to drape yourself with.
Now you’re stuck in the never-ending winter, withered and lifeless.
“Y/n!” Jo says, and you startle.
You turn your head to the side to see Jo as she’s walking around the corner, and she smiles at you as she makes her way towards you.
“Hey,” you reply as your throat goes dry.
If he has a best friend, or at least a female one, you think it’d be her. They’ve been friends since before you reconnected with him, since before you even knew her. Seeing her feels like it’s wrong, but then again everything has been feeling wrong lately.
“Did you already ring?” Jo asks as she stops next to you.
You purse your lips, shaking your head no. “Huh,” you let out. “I was about to.”
Jo nods, and you think she immediately senses your unease. She’s a good person though, and an even better friend. She doesn’t say anything, and she rings the door for you.
You don’t know what to tell her. All that you can think of is, if someone has news about him, it would be her. She’s the only one you believe there’s a chance he’s been honest to.
Before you can say anything, the door opens and Bridget ushers you inside. You realize that you’re the last ones to get there – you usually never are. Usually always make sure to be the first, only so that you can help the hosts.
It seems losing him changed that.
You greet everyone half-heartedly, quickly moving towards Jiho. Jiho hugs you, tells you she’s happy you came. You can’t return the sentiment, so you offer her a tight-lipped smile as Heather announces that dinner is ready.
Their chatter is lively. You feel like you’re watching the scene through a frosted window. Like you’re stuck in a blizzard, watching people reveling in the warmth of the other side, wishing somehow that they’d share it with you. And it’s not that they don’t try; multiple times throughout dinner the other girls try to talk to you.
You reply, you always do, but there is just so little to say, so little words your brain can conjure up. It’s like your thoughts are slower – you’ve been that way at work too. You’re lucky, you haven’t been working on anything big in the last few weeks. But next week you will be, and you don’t even know if you’ll be able to do it.
At least Harrison is on the case with you. As one of the most talented junior partners of the firm, you think he’ll be able to manage the case even with you at his side.
You eat what you can, though you’ve run out of appetite before you even broke up. You force yourself, mostly because you don’t like how Kiko’s looking at you. How you notice her leaning to speak in Jo’s ear more than once during the meal.
You’re aware that they’re speaking of you – do they hate you as much as you hate yourself?
You doubt they can.
When dinner is over, you offer to clean the dishes. Jo ends up on washing duty with you, and you work in silence, water sloshing around as you rub the plates clean while she dries.
You’re cleaning a wine glass when she says, “How have you been?”
The question is a simple one. The truth isn’t so, and you wonder if you should lie. You think it’d be a mistake. Jo’s perceptive, she’d see right through the lie.
“I’ve been better,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders as if it doesn’t matter.
That much is a lie, because everything about him mattered.
“I can understand.”
Heavy silence follows, and you pass the glass to her. You hope she won’t speak more, hope she’ll offer you kindness and let you dwell on your mistakes, but you know it’s unlike her.
Indeed, she speaks up after a minute. “You know…” She pauses, and you glance once at her to find her features troubled. “I was wondering… what brought you to this decision?”
You freeze, hands in the water. It’s hot enough that your skin is turning scarlet, yet you barely even feel it. “What?”
“If you don’t want to speak about it it’s fine,” she gently says. “But I’m just concerned about you.”
“Did he ask you to ask me this?” you enquire, accusingly. You frown at the tone of your voice, and apologize as you resume washing the glass you’re holding.
“No,” she answers. “He hasn’t really been talking to anyone.”
You shudder, with horror and compulsion at the person that you were weeks ago, the one that caused him to isolate himself.
“Oh.”
Jo waits a moment, but when it’s clear that you aren’t going to speak again, she says, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t prod.”
You wet your lips, swallow around the lump in your throat. “It’s okay.”
Perhaps that’s also a lie. Perhaps you believe nothing is okay, nothing will be okay again. But you don’t voice it – it’s all your fault anyway.
“It’s okay if it isn’t okay, you know,” Jo gently says as you hand her a glass.
Your vision blurs, but no tears fall. No tears are left – you cry them to sleep every night already.
“Long distance is a bitch,” is what you eventually say. “You think you can make it through everything, and then long distance happens.”
You want to clench your hand around the third glass, want to feel the shards of it cutting through your palm like the shards of him have been stabbing through your heart. You force your grip to remain loose, lest you stain the sink with blood.
“Like for real, without it we would have been fine.”
You’ve told Jiho the same thing. You think you’ve told him the same thing, but you barely even remember the breakup. Just remember holding onto him at the end, and then winter seeping in through the crevices in your soul.
“I’m sorry.” Jo looks at you kindly when you glance her way. She offers you a sad smile that you want to hate, yet it just makes you want to break. “I’m really sorry it came between the two of you.”
You take a deep breath to tame the aching in your chest, nodding once. “It’s whatever.”
“It’s not.”
She’s right, so you remain silent. Choose to seek solace in a wordless moment, one you spend finishing the dishes. And when you’re done, and she’s wiping the last one, you find yourself asking, “How has he been doing?”
She stops moving, meets your gaze before letting her gaze drop to her hands. “As I said, he doesn’t really speak to anyone.”
“Which means he hasn’t been great.”
You know him enough to know that. She does too – she nods, before shrugging her shoulders. “Jimin and Tae have been making sure he’s okay though. Surviving.”
Because sometimes all there is to do is survive.
You’re relieved that his friends are there for him. It lessens the pain somehow, to know he’s not alone. You aren’t either – Jimin is your friend too and, even though she’s a mom of two, Jiho has been there for you ever since the breakup.
The first time Lisa asked you where Jungkook was though… felt like heartbreak uttered in an innocent sentence. Like the universe had gone wrong, like left and right were interchanged. You were lost then, and you still are today.
All at your expense.
“Good,” you answer.
She looks conflicted, pained – you understand why when she asks, “What about you?”
You clench your jaw out of reflex, as if it’s an accusation. As if admitting that you’re going through frozen hell is wrong of you, somehow. You think it is. After all, this is supposed to be better than the distance.
“I’ve got Jimin too, and Jiho,” you reply, voice strained. “Bridget and Heather too. They’ve been helping.”
Jo nods. “Good. Don’t isolate yourself.” There’s a pause, and her features turn pensive. “And you know, you got me too. You have all of us.”
Tears blur your vision, but like your soul they turn to ice before rolling down your cheeks. “Thank you.”
Smile apologetic, she nods again, as if her job here is done. And it must be – Kiko and Bridget walk into the kitchen, and they clearly don’t sense the atmosphere that’s clinging to you. They strike conversation with Jo, happily, and her stance switches to one that’s more relaxed.
You decide to leave them alone, because these three have always been a little closer to each other than you to them, and you return to the other room, where Chaeyeon, Valeria, Jiho and Heather are lounging on the couches. You debate leaving, debate claiming that you have to work early in the morning, but somehow you choose not to.
Is it a sign that you’re moving on? You don’t know.
When you do leave, later that night, at the same time as Jo and Chaeyeon do, you find yourself walking next to Jo as you head to your respective cars. Lance is picking Chaeyeon up, and she waves you two goodbye as you walk away.
You stuff your hands in the long sleeves of your hoodie, as if the air outside is remotely cold. It is not – there’s been a heatwave around for a few days. Luckily enough for you, a freezing heart seems to be a good remedy for the heat, and you still seek the comfort of your hoodie.
“I was wondering,” Jo says as you near where your car is parked. “Are you still planning on coming to the wedding?”
The forsaken wedding. The thing that set everything in motion – the spark that caught fire on years of your relationship.
You purse your lips, shrug your shoulders. “I think so,” you voice. “Yeah. You two are my friends, even if…”
If you’re closer to him. You don’t say as much, but it’s needless. Jo nods, understanding as ever, and she tells you that you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.
You think she’s a fool for believing that you wouldn’t want to go. Because… what’s wrong with wanting to make sure he’s okay with your own two eyes? What’s wrong with needing to see him in another context than this never-ending winter?
That night, you lie awake for hours. Picturing him behind your closed eyelids, only to find emptiness where he should be. The blankets are cold, the fan overhead not needed, yet you can’t bring yourself to turn it off.
Can’t chase the feeling of his absence from your heart.
You seek solace in memories of him, in the thought of his lips on yours. Of the featherlight kisses you used to exchange in the dead of night, when sleep was evading you or him. You must be half asleep – because suddenly you can almost see him here. Can almost hear his voice as he’d call you baby, mouthing the word against your neck before he’d suck on it.
Your heartrate picks up with the memory – they’re flooding in. The smell of his skin, the taste of his lips, the inebriating sweetness of his kisses. You remember the weight of him on you, the press of his knee between your legs.
And then you seek solace with a hand between your thighs, trying to remember how he touched you. How his long fingers always dragged you to a land of pleasure, how he’d managed to keep you there until you were insane with his taste.
You breathe out his name, a soft moan, though it’s almost a plea. A plea for him to appear, for him to never have been gone.
For you to never have pushed him away.
When you come down from the high that finds you in your memories, you lie on your side, holding one of your plushies to your chest. They don’t replace him; they never have.
You end up crying yourself to sleep over the memories, over the July night sky and the dance crew and every night you took for granted, believing that he’d be yours forever.
You cry for your decision, no matter how right it was. Because you know it’ll always feel wrong.
Friday, July 28th
                There’s something about work that’s been setting you on edge. That’s been making you want to pull your hair out of your head – if only that was possible. It’s strange; you’ve been thinking about the breakup less now that you’re neck deep in work.
Now that you spend hours upon hours at work, after the usual closing time.
Luckily enough, you’re almost never alone. Harrison accompanies all of those late evenings as you work through the case, as he tells you what to do and you tell him you don’t need his help. He laughs at that – Harrison has an easy laugh. It makes its way to his lips whenever you speak, and it’s been like a ray of light in the otherwise dark land of your heart.
He’s a good coworker. Someone that’s noticed just how bad you are, but that’s decided to not treat you differently. To let you nurse your heart in peace, while he offers you the normalcy of what work should be.
Today, at lunch break, he suggested going out for dinner and drinks, along with the rest of the team that’s been working on the case. Mostly because you’re finally closing in on something that is clearly going to be good, and he believes it’s important to celebrate. You don’t have it in you to say no, and that’s how you find yourself squeezed between him and Anna, the paralegal that you’ve worked with the most, in the booth of a nice pub near the firm.
You’ve been sharing a nacho plate with Harrison and Ian, another one of the junior partners of the firm, and you’re sipping on a glass of the pitcher of sangria that Anna ordered for you and her. The buzzing of chatter and laughter makes the pub into a lively place, and you reckon you like the atmosphere.
You like the plants that cascade from their pots on shelves in the walls, like the hanging lights that shine brightly onto the tables, like the brick wall that gives the pub a nice industrial vibe. It just feels right, different than your usual.
Or maybe it’s the fact that the crew is different. That you aren’t with people that inevitably remind you of Jungkook, even though they shouldn’t.
Harrison’s English accent catches your attention as he says something to Ian – something about leaving work related conversation to the firm. As you turn your head towards the man at your side, he offers you a glance.
Harrison has clear blue eyes. Pale, like they hold the Caribbean sea in them. His eyes are beautiful, sparkling, and you offer him a smile.
He’s quick to smile back, and then he continues his conversation with Ian, who’s decided to speak about sports instead.  You decide to join in, even though you know practically nothing about sports, and the two men tease you for it.
There’s no bite to it, yet it feels familiar. Reminds you of someone that used to tease you all the time, and with the sangria coursing through your veins, you decide to jump on the occasion. To let the past be the past, and live in this moment, for once.
Perhaps it holds some sort of salvation for you.
“It’s not my fault if football is boring!” you insist. “It’s just dudes throwing a ball. Who cares about that?”
Harrison nudges you with his elbow. “Hey come on,” he says. “They don’t only throw a ball, sometimes they kick it too.”
He’s got a teasing smile on his lips, and to your surprise you find yourself rolling your eyes. “And the point system? Stupid.”
“It isn’t!” Harrison says, faking offense. “You wound me.”
You cock an eyebrow as Ian laughs, before turning to speak to Sam next to him as the guy asks him a question.
“Aren’t you British anyway?” you ask him. “Why do you watch football?”
“Because I like dudes that throw balls,” he jokes, before realizing that his sentence sounded wrong as you burst out laughing. “Well, not like that.”
“No, of course not,” you tease back.
“It’s just a fun sport,” he insists. “Used to watch it with my step-dad when I was younger.”
Now, the revelation eases the teasing mood that you’ve been diving into, and you offer him a small smile. “Sounds like fun.”
Because you can get that. You can understand the need to love something because someone you loved introduced you to it – dance was that for you, once upon a time. When your mother had introduced you to it, when you were too young to realize that to her, you dancing was just going to be an accomplishment.
Until it became a curse, as you chose to not pursue ballet the way she wanted you to. But that’s old history – even though you still don’t talk to your mother all that much, the hatred you’ve held for her for years after she’s kicked you out is lesser now. Practically non-existent, and you have your therapist to thank for that.
Years of therapy really did help, eventually.
You realize, tonight, how you haven’t really been living since you broke up. You’ve been a mere ghost, a mere winter wind, but tonight you think the air warms up. It warms up into a tentative spring breeze, and you cling to it.
You say yes when Harrison suggests heading to a club after, a VIP one where he’s a member along with Ian. Say yes to the shots offered to you, and you ignore the texts in the group chat with the girls saying that they want to meet up for lunch tomorrow. You focus on the now, focus on the fact that he’s not all you’re thinking of.
No, his big, doe eyes barely exist in your mind right now, replaced by ocean blue and an English accent. At least that’s what you tell yourself as Harrison says he’s a shit dancer, and you admit you were on a dance crew for years.
He cocks an eyebrow, says you’re full of shit, and that’s how you find yourself pulling him to the dance floor, not caring that his hair is paler than your usual, that his smile rings different.
Harrison is not a good dancer. He’s awkward, clumsy, and he steps on your feet more than once as you dance face to face, swaying to the beat of the club music. The flashing lights feel like a haven, like you don’t have to hide in the darkness left by Jungkook’s disappearance from your life.
You let Harrison put his hands on your waist, let him pull you closer, until he’s resting his forehead on yours. Your eyes shut from the proximity, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Somehow, that’s what makes you remember – not the dancing, but the intimacy of the position. It makes you crave another, makes you need to forget, and you’re the one that closes the gap.
You’re the one who kisses him first, and he kisses you back all wrong. There’s something missing – the piercing, perhaps – but you don’t let it deter you. Focus on the swipe of his tongue on your bottom lip, and you sigh as you let him in.
But Jungkook is there, in your mind. When Harrison’s hands tighten on your waist, it’s in Jungkook’s hair that you want to thread your fingers through. When he groans softly in the kiss, as you bite his lower lip, it’s Jungkook’s lips that you want to be sucking on.
And you think it’ll always be Jungkook. He’ll haunt you forever – a reminder of your weakness, when it came to the distance. A reminder that, after everything, you’re the one that ruined it.
You’re the one that put an end to what was supposed to be forever.
It aches, coldly. You think your heart barely knows how to beat anymore. It’s erratic, painful, and when Harrison pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes finding yours, you think his irises are made of ice.
“Hey,” he says gently.
“Hey,” is all you can think to reply.
If he sees the torment in your eyes, he ignores it. Guides you back to the table, where he leaves you with Ian and the rest claiming that he’ll get a water for you. And he does – he comes back with two bottles of water, and he hands you one as he sits next to you.
You think that’s what undoes you. That’s what breaks you, spills the content of your aching soul right there on the club’s floor. You don’t know who’ll pick up the mess – the one it belongs to is far away from these flashing lights. Far, yet closer than he was when the ending came. Somewhere in the city, you believe, because you don’t think he’s gone back to Europe yet.
Would he answer, if you were to call him? Would he pick up right where you left off, whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if you haven’t destroyed his beating organ?
You hate it. Hate how, weeks later, the torture hasn’t diminished. Hate how you believed it’d be just a few rough days, when it’s been weeks and months and winter hasn’t changed.
So you do what you do best. You escape. Tell the table that you have to go, and make it outside before Harrison catches up to you. He asks if he can walk you home, which makes sense because you live in the same complex anyway. Not the same building, but Harrison lives in the one across the small square-like courtyard between the three condo towers where you’ve found a place to rent after Jungkook.
Up above, stars twinkle in the sky. They seem unaware that, after that cataclysm of a July night, the story came to an end. Like the universe never meant it, when it put you and him together. Or maybe it’s you – maybe you created a new cataclysm. Wrote your own fate, and all that crap.
You’re getting dizzy. Both with alcohol and spinning thoughts, but luckily enough the walk is short. Harrison grants you silence, sensing that you need it, probably. Because he’s gentlemanly. Not that Jungkook wasn’t – it’s just different.
And you shouldn’t be comparing him to Jungkook, but it’s far too easy. Especially as your treacherous little mouth asks him if he wants to share a drink in your apartment, as you tell him that you feel better now that you’ve breathed some air.
He says yes, though he seems unsure. He seems unsure all the way up to your floor, and even more so as you pull him in a kiss when the door closes behind you and him. Especially as you breathe against his lips, “Do you think you can make me forget?”
After everything is done, and you lie awake next to his naked form, both of you staring up at the ceiling in silence, you know the answer to that question.
And it’s quite simple – no. Because no one will ever be able to make you forget the one you were supposed to be with until you turned to stardust. Until all that would have been left of the two of you was etchings on a stone, and memories in the space between this life and the next.
Harrison is kind – he tells you that he senses you shouldn’t have done it, gently. Tells you that the only person that can make you forget is yourself, and time. And when he leaves, he tells you not to worry about anything. That he can be a friend, if you need it, but that he doubts you want anything more.
He’s right, and you cry yourself to sleep holding onto Totoro and Appa, hoping weeks ago you would have listened to Jungkook when he’d said not to break up. Hoping to turn back time, cursing the linearity of it. Remembering the punctuate events of you and him, wondering how the distance was enough to undo your timeline.
The sun winks at you when it rises, mocking you as night ends, with no answer for you. The what-ifs shine as brightly as the rays of the morning, all of them piercing through your darkened heart.
You shiver and hide your face in Totoro, hoping one day you’ll be able to evade winter.
Friday, August 18th
                Jungkook’s first thought when he steps into the restaurant is that it’s too loud. Too bright, with happy couples and smiling families sharing a meal as if life’s never ended, three months and ten days ago. He feels like an imposter – he hasn’t smiled since you left, and hasn’t laughed since before that.
He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, when Taehyung suggested it. Maybe because Taehyung and Jimin can be firmly persuasive, when they decide they’ll do something. Though, this time around, they’re not doing anything.
Anything other than having set this blind date with one of Taehyung’s coworkers.
Jungkook decides to find solace in his thoughts. Away from the bustling crowd of the restaurant, into the cool darkness where he’s been evading since he moved to his new apartment. Somewhere where the pain is lesser, where he doesn’t cry all the time.
That’s where she finds him. A shy smile, rosy cheeks as she voices, “Jungkook?”
He meets her gaze, finds her long lashes as she looks up at him innocently. He’s struck – she’s way out of his league. But so were you, and he’s got a whole story to tell about you now. He looks around as if to make sure the girl was speaking to him, as if she didn’t say his name, before he answers, “I assume you’re Emma.”
Another shy smile, and Emma nods her head. “The one and only.”
Jungkook wets his lips, and when the server comes to bring them to a table, he lets his gaze drop to the ground as he follows behind Emma.
He sits in front of her, feeling odd as she blushes and looks through the menu. Her shyness makes him feel awkward, and he doesn’t know what to say.
With you, he always knew what to say.
He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and then lets his eyelids flutter open so that he can look through the menu too. He thinks, he just has to make it through the evening. Doesn’t have to see the girl again, even though her shy smiles are cute.
She is cute, but she’s not you. No one will ever compare to you.
He takes a deep breath once more, tries to push you out of his thoughts. For the first time in weeks, it’s not as hard. Maybe because his awkwardness is winning over, making him all too aware of every glance the girl throws his way.
They order, barely exchanging a word, until the girl throws him a lifeline. She asks about his photography, admits Taehyung told her about it, and Jungkook settles in his comfort space as he tells her about it, as he answers her question.
It’s impersonal, almost professional, but at least it keeps the pain at bay for a while. He even thinks he’s enjoying himself – by the time they’re eating and he’s drank half of his beer, he does feel lighter. Like he can finally breathe, like the hand clutching his heart in his chest has loosened.
Or maybe he’s just been getting too good at burrowing his feelings deep inside of him. Still, he barely smiles, barely laughs. And he knows none of his smiles quite reach his eyes, and he knows the girl must have noticed. She doesn’t say anything though, focuses on telling him what she does for work, and then goes on to tell him about what it was like for her growing up.
He zones out, nods when he figures he has to, tries to smile when there’s a lull in the conversation. He’s clearly not good at that – he’s never really gone on dates before. Except with Laura, before you, but even that barely counted as a date. Perhaps because he already knew Laura, and he’s struck thinking that the girl in front of him is a stranger. A stranger, yes, but she’s kind. So when she suggests sharing a bottle of wine, claiming that it’s her favourite and that she’s wanted to drink it in a long time, Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to say no.
Even though they’re already done with eating. She does order dessert, and he watches her eat as he nurses his glass of wine, taking sips from it once in a while.
He hasn’t drunk in a long time, and the effects start to be felt faster than usual. Or maybe the beer he drank before the wine was strong. Either way, his head starts swimming with alcohol before they’re out of the restaurant, and he relishes in the feeling.
Revels in Emma’s suggestion to take a walk to clear their head, along the small river near the restaurant. The evening air is fresh, though clouds hide the stars from view. It smells of rain – there are leftover puddles from earlier today – but it doesn’t seem like the sky will cry again tonight.
A soft breeze plays in Jungkook’s hair. He hasn’t cut it in a while. It used to be a lot longer, but he’s not used to it anymore, so it feels weird whenever strands of his hair pass in front of his eyes. He tries to push them back but to no avail: the strands stubbornly always fall in front of his eyes again, and he ends up giving up after a moment.
Turns out Emma is a gamer. She suggests playing some games together the next time they hang out, and Jungkook doesn’t have it in himself to tell her that they, as a matter of fact, won’t see each other ever again. Not because she isn’t sweet – she’s just not what he wants. And he doesn’t even want the distraction.
He did that once, and it didn’t serve him good. Even if he managed to have you in the end.
“What’s your favourite game?” Emma asks as she stops next to some railing overlooking the water. She leans against it, forearms resting on it as she looks at the water, eyes following the ripples in the river.
“I don’t game as much anymore,” he admits. He shrugs, tries to ignore the way his lungs burn.
Because he used to game with you next to him, and he doesn’t need reminders of you.
“Mine is Valorant,” she says, and she smiles at him as if she expected that to make him happy.
“Oh,” he lets out. He offers her a tight-lipped smile, and feels bad when her face falls a little. So he quickly adds, “I took you more for a Sims girl.”
She fakes offense. “What? Why?”
There’s a twinkle in her eyes, and he’s struck silent as he watches it. She seems to take that as a cue for something else, because she takes a step closer to him, eyes dropping to his mouth.
He thinks he’s frozen on his spot when she tilts her head back, tiptoes, and presses a featherlike kiss on his lips. Eyes wide opened, he watches her, until he figures he should be kissing her back.
So he does, hesitantly, as lead forms in his stomach, making him think that he’s going to be sick. Because she kisses him all wrong. Tastes all wrong too, and suddenly you’re burning in his mind, bright magma that moves in his veins until pain suffocates his lungs.
He takes a step back, and Emma’s eyes shoot open, as if startled. They stare at each other for a time, and then she gulps.
“I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t care for her apology. Doesn’t care about anything other than the fact that he feels disgusted with himself. And for what? It’s not like he owes you anything anymore. As a matter of fact, he should be enjoying this. Should be enjoying that even though he was his most awkward self, he still was able to get the girl to kiss him.
Instead, he burns and he chokes on his saliva as he tries to swallow. He wonders why his vision is blurry, and he furiously blinks his eyes trying to keep Emma in focus.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeats. “Gosh, I read this all wrong. I…” she pauses, shaking her head slightly, and it seems she’s been wearing a mask all evening, because it crumples into nothingness. “I just got out of a long relationship, Tae said you too and I just… Fuck I just assumed we could comfort each other?” When he remains silent, she continues, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
She’s rambling, and Jungkook just hears his blood pumping in his ears. When he still doesn’t speak, she apologizes once more, and then tells him that she should go.
He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t even look as she walks away, head hung low in what he assumes is shame. All he feels is the deep burning sensation, as it settles under his skin. Like a sunburn – he wants to scratch at it, wants to rip it from his skin, but he can’t.
He can’t because you’re gone, and this ache is all that’s left of you. It’s all that’s left, so he clings to it. Tries to keep it close to his heart, where you belong. Picks at the scab, at the wound, until he’s bleeding all over again, breaking out in the city, where anyone can see that he’s lost you.
He doesn’t know how he makes it home. All that he knows is that he’s in the shower, later, head pressed against the tiles as cold water runs on his back. It mingles with the tears streaking down his cheeks, mixes with the saltiness of heartbreak.
It doesn’t cool the sunburn ache, doesn’t ease the pain in his chest. And you’re everywhere then – in the cracks on the wall, he believes he can see you. Believes he can reach out for you, though what he ends up doing is cranking the temperature of the shower up, until it’s not cold anymore.
Though he reckons he barely can feel it anymore.
So he forces his eyes shut, chases memories of you like a dog chases its tail – round in round, in a circle, because he thinks he’ll always circle back to you anyway. He imagines you, in all your glory. Imagines you’ve never left, imagines you’d still run your hands on his back, still dig your nails in his skin.
He doesn’t even know how his hand finds its way to the base of his dick. Doesn’t even know why he’s horny, why the pain makes him crave you more. Why it makes him touch himself, imagining it’s your touch. And with his eyes squeezed shut, you’re everywhere. The goddess of the land of his mind, and he can almost believe you’re still here.
He grunts, perhaps in pain, and picks up the pace on his dick. He remembers words whispered on your skin, your spit on his dick as you’d swallow around the tip. He remembers your tight walls, clutching him, holding him in as you’d ride him like there was no tomorrow.
He remembers a hot tub and the night that followed, remembers breaking and healing with you. Remembers the darkness of the accident, and the light you’d shine on him. The light is gone now, and only darkness remains. It’s not the same – it’s lonelier, somehow. Because he had everything, and now remains nothing. Just the ghost of what once was, and he wishes he could be taken back to the night on the hotel rooftop, wishes you’d never left.
And when he comes, it’s your name that he moans. Like a blessing, though now you’re a curse. A curse to him, and he wishes the pain would go away, wishes it would stay. Wishes it would bring you back, yet knowing he’d push you away. Because he doesn’t think there is pain as great as what you caused him, and then he curses himself for the thought.
That night, he lies awake in sheets cold as winter, weakened by his broken heart as he chases sleep that never comes.
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nastybuckybarnes · 2 years
Text
Riding Lessons  -  Two
Pairing: Dbf!Bucky X Reader
Summary: It’s your dad’s summer barbecue and all his friends are there. Including the man who’s spent every moment he can with his head between your thighs. The only problem? He’s brought another woman.
Warnings: Language, Light Angst, Fluff, Smut (oral (f receiving), pussy slapping, choking, degradation, kinda rough, breeding kink, slight voyeurism, name calling), Age Gap (Reader is 21, Bucky is mid-forties),
Word Count: 3.4K
A/n: here’s part two for you guys! I’m shocked at the response to part one, so thank you guys so much!! I love you all and I hope you enjoy this!
Part one
~*~
“C’mon down, Kiddo! Everyone’s here! You gotta make an appearance!” Your dad shouts from the bottom of the stairs, waiting until you finally emerge to head back to the kitchen.
He’s been planning this summer barbecue for weeks, and now the backyard is packed full of people who are all his age, drinking and laughing and having a good time.
And then there’s you.
You’ve been cooped up in your room since the first guest arrived, but it wasn’t his presence that made you hideaway. No, it’s the plus one on his arm.
Bucky showed up an hour early with a blonde woman clinging to his arm and kissing his cheek.
The smirk on his face when his eyes met yours was enough to hurt your heart and bruise your ego, so you took your leave.
Since that first riding lesson, he’s been around far more often, and each time he takes any opportunity to get you alone. Whether that’s to bury his face between your legs or push you to your knees in front of him.
But he hasn’t fucked you since that first night. The night when he ruined all other men for you.
And now he’s showing up with a broad on his arm as if he’s not your property.
As you walk down the stairs you realize that maybe he’s not your property, and if that’s the case then you sure as Hell aren’t his.
“There you are! Everyone’s been asking where you are,” your dad says when you step into the kitchen.
Your eyes dart around the room and relief and disappointment play tug-of-war with your heart when you don’t see Bucky.
Instead, Steve and Sam are there, each of them smiling at you.
“Your dad says you learned how to ride a motorcycle, huh?” Steve asks, stepping forward and offering you a drink.
You take the cool can from him and pop it open, nodding your confirmation.
“Yup! I went on the highway for the first time the other day. I understand why you guys like it so much.”
He chuckles and nods, “we’ll have to take you with us one day. Go for a long ride on a nice day. Nothing beats that.”
You nod again, your smile fading slightly when Bucky walks into the kitchen.
“This is where you guys are? I thought the party was outside?” He jokes, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer.
“Just getting a couple things ready. Sam, you wanna bring the steaks out to the barbecue, and Steve could you grab those two bags of ice for the cooler?”
The two men are quick to help your dad, and you feel your heart drop as you realize that you might be left alone with the man you’re avoiding.
Within seconds, it’s just you and him, and his eyes are burning holes into your forehead.
“If I didn’t know any better, baby girl, I’d think you were avoiding me.”
You purse your lips and shrug, stepping toward the back door only for him to step directly in your path.
You sidestep him and crane your neck back to look up at him, “I don’t see how it concerns you. You brought your own arm candy.”
His eyebrows raise to his hairline as you step outside.
“You jealous, sweetheart?”
You don’t answer, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he has on you, though you’re sure he already knows.
Instead, you head outside and look for anyone you know that would make good conversation.
Settling on Steve and Sam again, you walk in their direction, only for a firm hand to come around your wrist and tug you backwards.
You inhale sharply, looking up at Bucky as he pulls you back into the kitchen and closes the door to the backyard.
“I asked you a question, Princess. You know I don’t like to repeat myself. Or do you not remember?”
You remember.
By God, do you remember.
He’d fucked your throat so hard that you couldn’t speak for two days, and you loved every minute of it.
“Let me go, James. You came here with someone, and I doubt she wants to see your hands on someone else.”
Shock colours his features and he stares at you for a long moment before grabbing you by the waist and shoving you over the counter.
He flips your skirt up and smacks your ass hard, once, twice, three times, until you’re biting your lip to hold back your yelps and whines.
“I don’t like this attitude from you. What happened to my good girl? Huh? Where did she go? Do I need to fuck this attitude out of you? Is that what it is?” His words are whispered harshly and you whimper, your eyes locked on the party outside.
“Y-you brought a girl… it’s not fair…” You’re not sure if it’s not fair for you or for her, but you know that this isn’t right.
Nothing about this is right, but that’s never stopped you before.
“Yeah, and she knows that she’s just arm candy, ‘cause a certain bratty twenty-one-year-old has the best pussy I’ve ever had, and that bratty little bitch has me addicted.”
Your cunt clenches at his words and you hide your face in your hands, hating the fact that everything this man does turns you on.
He slides his fingers over your centre and groans at the feeling of your wet core dripping through your panties.
“These are coming off. They’re mine now.” He yanks them down your legs then brings them up to his face, taking a deep breath through his nose and groaning lowly.
“God, I need to have this pussy in my mouth. Never tasted anything better, honey, I swear.” He drops to his knees behind you and pushes your legs apart slightly, then traces your slit with his tongue.
You pull in a shaky breath and push onto your elbows, dropping your head as his tongue finds your clit.
“Bucky,” you whisper, arching your back slightly to give him better access to your dripping heat.
He devours you like you’re the first meal he’s had in days, drinking up everything you have to offer and paying special attention to your clit.
“Cum on my tongue, pretty girl, c’mon. I wanna feel you cream on my face.”
You let out a choked moan, your eyes snapping open when you hear a voice approaching the kitchen door.
You push up until you’re almost standing straight, but Bucky smacks your ass once harshly in warning.
“Don’t even try to move, sweetheart. I’m not finished with you. Stay quiet, like the good girl I know you can be.”
You nod, reaching across the counter for a phone to make it seem like you’re busy doing something other than getting eaten out by your dad’s best friend.
“You found your way back inside, huh?” Steve asks after sliding the door open, an easy grin on his face.
“Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s really hot outside,” you whisper, terrified of bringing your voice any higher because you know you’ll moan.
Bucky’s lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly, and you bite your bottom lip so hard you taste blood.
“Yeah, it’s summer. It’s usually pretty hot,” Steve says with a chuckle, reaching into the fridge to grab a bowl of potato salad.
“C’mon, food’s almost ready.”
You nod, squeezing the phone tighter in your hands when Bucky slides two thick fingers inside you.
“I-I’ll be out in a minute. I just gotta... sen a text...” It’s taking all your self-control not to reach behind you and thread your fingers through Bucky’s hair.
You’re so fucking close.
You can feel your legs trembling and your walls fluttering, but Steve is still in the fucking kitchen.
“You kids and your phones.” He shakes his head and leaves the kitchen, and you groan immediately after, pressing your forehead to the counter and leaning your hips back into Bucky's face more.
He fucks his fingers into you faster, massaging your g-spot every time his fingers slide into your heat, and his mouth works your clot in time with his fingers.
“Bucky… Bucky I’m gonna cum, oh fuck, please, please let me cum.”
He groans against your heat and sucks your clit harder, his tongue working over the bud while his fingers assault your walls.
A choppy moan leaves your lips and you bite your forearm to try and suppress the noise as you cream on his face.
Your legs tremble and your cunt flutters around his fingers, and he slurps up every drop of your essence that he can reach with his talented tongue.
“Fuck, you taste like heaven,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your throbbing clit then pulling his fingers from your core. You can hear the filthy sound of him sucking them clean, and then he’s rubbing the backs of your thighs gently in comfort.
“You okay, honey?”
With a soft whimper, you nod, allowing him to pull you into his arms and hug you softly.
“Good. Now, go on and eat.”
You nod again and he smiles before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Good girl.”
~*~
You nibble on a piece of watermelon, eyes focused on Bucky as he talks and laughs with your dad as if he didn’t just have his face buried between your thighs.
“You okay, kid? You seem kinda distracted today,” Steve says gently, nudging your knee with his.
You snap your gaze to his and nod, taking a deep breath then smiling.
“Yeah, I just… I didn’t get a good sleep last night. I’m kinda tired.”
He nods sympathetically and pats your shoulder, ”do you want me to go grab you a red bull or something? Make you some coffee?”
You smile warmly at him and shake your head, “I’m okay, thank you though. I think I just need some water.” You rise to your feet and make your way inside, trying your best to walk normally even though you can feel eyes boring into your back.
When you get inside you go straight to the bathroom to splash cool water on your face.
You can’t keep doing this.
Keep letting him have his way with you and pretend nothing happened. You’re gonna slip up one day and then it’s gonna be game over.
As your mind starts to race to all the worst-case scenarios, the doorknob turns.
“Uh, occupied!” You call.
The doorknob continues turning and then the door is pushed open, and the man who plagued your every thought is standing there.
“Running away again?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face.
Your eyes go wide and you look over his shoulder to make sure no one’s coming.
“You’re gonna get us caught!” You hiss, yanking him into the bathroom and shutting the door.
He only laughs, “yeah, but that’s why you like it so much. Every time we almost get caught, you cum harder,” he says matter-of-factly
“Okay, what if I was peeing? And you just walked in?”
He shrugs, “then I guess I’d just wait till you’re finished to do this.” He spins you around and pushes you toward the bathroom counter, hoisting one of your legs up to rest your knee on the granite.
Your eyes meet his in the mirror as his fingers find your sore centre, rubbing gently.
“B-Bucky we can’t…”
He raises a single brow at your half-hearted protests and slides a finger into your abused heat, chuckling softly when you clamp down on it.
“Yeah, nice try, Princess. This,” he pulls his finger out to slap your pussy, making a startled gasp fall from your lips, “belongs to me. It’s mine. And I’ll use it whenever and however I want, got it?”
You nod your understanding, watching in the mirror as he slowly unbuckles his pants and shoved them down his legs.
His boxers come next, the material stretching over his thick, tanned thighs, and then his cock springs free.
All nine and a half inches -“that half is important, sweetheart, trust me”- of thick, cut, sinful glory, and he’s been saving it for you.
He shoves your dress up until you’re holding it at your chest with one hand, the other braced on the mirror.
You can see his cock sliding through your folds, the weeping tip rubbing against your clit with each pass, and the sight alone is enough to have your mouth watering.
“Yeah, you like that? Hmm?” He asks, his voice low and teasing as he watches your face in the mirror.
Your mouth is slightly open, heavy breaths falling from those fuckable lips, and your eyes are half-closed, focused on where his cock is rubbing against you.
“Gonna let me fuck a baby into you, pretty girl? You gonna be a good girl for me? Let me make you a mommy?”
He feels your cunt flutter and watches the way your brows draw together, a grin on his face.
Bracing himself with one hand on your hip and the other in your hair, he pulls his hips back entirely only to push them forward, spearing into you in one quick thrust.
The breath is knocked from your lungs at the stretch of his fat cock in your heat, and a long moan falls from your mouth.
He slaps his hand across your lips, silencing you as much as he can, and you huff a breath through your nose at the force behind it.
“Sorry, babygirl, but you know you can’t be that loud with so many people around. It’s like you wanna get caught. Like you want someone to walk in while I’m balls deep in your tight snatch. Is that what you want, you filthy slut?”
You shake your head but tears spring to your eyes as he starts moving his hips, each pull and push dragging against your g-spot and making your nerves burst.
“Fuck, you feel so good, babygirl. Like your pussy was made for me. Fuck... tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” His words are whispered in your ear as he pulls your head back to be closer to his, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror.
“Yeah, that’s right. You watch as I fuck your tight little hole. Look at how well you’re taking me, honey. Like a champ.”
You nod desperately, tears falling down your cheeks and dripping into his hand.
A light sheen of sweat covers your body as you meet his thrusts, and the contrast of the cool tile against your knee and the mirror on your hand only add to the sensations running laps through your body.
“Tears again? C’mon, crybaby, I thought you were a big girl.”
Your pussy flutters and you whine into his palm, eyes stuck on where he's fucking you.
There’s a sudden, sharp knock on the door that has your heart in your throat and your cunt squeezing the life out of Bucky’s cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his thrusts not slowing.
“Occupied!” He shouts, his voice masking a vicious smack to your ass that has pain prickling. He soothes the sting, rubs the area, and presses a kiss to the back of your head.
“Hurry up, Buck, you’ve been in there for so long,” Steve’s voice rumbles from behind the door.
Bucky drops his head back and holds back a curse when you clench around him again at the sound of Steve’s voice.
“Yeah, I’m almost done. Can’t finish with you standing there.”
Steve grumbles something under his breath, and then his footsteps trail away from the door.
“You want him to catch you? You want him to know what a desperate cumslut I make you? How you turn into a stupid drool baby the moment you see cock? Is that what you want, crybaby?”
You nod desperately, more tears flowing as the coil in your belly tightens.
“Yeah, I bet you want him to fuck you too, huh? You want his cock in your tight little ass while I fuck this pussy? Or maybe, you want him to fuck that cute face so he can see how pretty you look when you cry.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as your release slams into you like a freight train, sending you spiralling through a tunnel of bliss that has you seeing stars.
Your body goes slack against the counter, chest falling forward only to be caught by Bucky’s strong arms.
“I’m not finished with you yet, crybaby.” The nickname shouldn’t make you gush around him, but it does.
He fucks you through your orgasm, not giving you even a moment to rest as his hips slam into your ass, surely leaving bruises.
You groan softly, rivers rushing down your cheeks and finding a new home in the neckline of your sundress.
He smacks your ass then wraps his hand around your throat, cutting off your air and watching your face in the mirror.
Your mouth opens as you struggle to breathe, the tears never ceasing, and Bucky can’t stop himself from cumming.
His hips stutter to a stop as he paints your walls white, his potent cum coating your cervix and warming you from the inside.
His hand drops away from your throat and you suck in a heavy breath, hiccuping a sob as you lean against him.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers, his eyes closed as he holds you tightly against his body.
As he comes down from his high, his eyes find yours in the mirror.
All pretty and puffy and bloodshot, watching him intently.
“You okay, pretty baby? I wasn’t too rough?” He asks softly, his hands moving to cradle you against his body.
You sniffle and nudge him back with your elbow, giving you enough room to scoot off the counter and turn around in his arms.
You nuzzle your nose against his chest and settle in his arms, your tears slowly ceasing.
“You okay, honey?” He asks again, nervous he was too rough with you.
You sniffle and nod, looking up at him when he tilts your chin up.
“Words, Angel. I need words.”
You sniffle and swallow hard, “I'm okay.”
He raises his eyebrows and you nod.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
He watches you for a moment longer before nodding and kissing your lips gently.
“I’m gonna go get you a glass of water, sweet girl. You stay here. I’ll clean you up in a minute.”
You nod and lean against the counter as he fixes his clothes and leaves, still trying to catch your breath and calm your heart down.
A few moments later, the door opens again.
“That was quick,” you whisper, your voice scratchy and hoarse.
“Try again, crybaby.”
Your eyes snap up as Steve steps into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself.
Dread swells in your stomach and you shake your head as his eyes roam your figure.
“I-I...”
He brings his eyes back to yours and cocks his head to the side, giving you a grin.
“C’mon now, you guys weren’t exactly quiet. S’like you were begging me to hear you.”
New tears well up and rain down your face and you shake your head desperately.
“Please don’t tell anyone. Please.”
He shushes you softly and steps closer, one hand cupping your face.
“I won’t, honey. I swear. I just... wanna get in on the action.”
Your brows draw together, and then the door opens again.
Bucky pushes inside, freezing for a moment while taking in the scene before himself.
“Outta the way, punk,” he says easily, coming up beside you and lifting you to sit on the counter.
He brings the glass of water up to your mouth and you drink eagerly, your eyes flickering nervously between the two huge men in the bathroom.
“Was wondering when you’d finally get your head out of your ass,” Bucky says nonchalantly, his gaze never leaving your face.
You choke on the water, coughing and sputtering, and Bucky sets the glass down while Steve pats your back gently, wiping a few drops from your chin then popping his finger into his mouth.
“Didn’t wanna interrupt. You guys sounded pretty busy.”
The brunet smiles, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks again.
“You okay?”
You nod slowly, a million questions in your eyes.
“Steve’s not gonna do anything you don’t want him to, okay? You say stop and he stops. And he won’t breathe a word of this to dear old dad. Scout’s honour.”
You nibble on your bottom lip for a moment then look over at Steve.
“What... what exactly do you want to do?”
He smiles and steps closer to you, pulling you to the edge of the counter then dropping to his knees in front of you.
“Lift up that pretty dress and I’ll show you.”
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