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sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

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𝔰𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔢 (𝔪)

❥yamaguchi tadashi x fem!reader

❥warnings: yandere, dubcon, ill-prepped sex, bleeding, guilt-tripping & manipulation, jealousy and possessiveness, toxic relationship, vomit (not like that dw)

❥word count: 3.7k

❣︎anon: Hello love! I hope you’re having a good day :) I was hoping to request a yandere!yamaguchi fic where he’s the team captain and reader is the manager. Maybe after a really bad practice game he manipulates reader into dating him by saying sumn like “oh if we are together the teams foundation will be stronger”. And like through out their relationship it shows how he will guilt her into staying and fucking him but she doesn’t realize he’s toxic and is just like “ he just loves me a lot and is kinky lol” (sorry idk if this makes sense essentially just Yan!yamaguchi dating manager!reader lol)

he strikes when morale is low.

you can see devastation etched on everyone’s faces. hinata’s shoulders slouch with utter dejection, kageyama’s jaw is clenched tightly and there’s worry and shame across the first years’ faces. a sense of hopelessness.

you want to cry. being manager wasn’t something you were new to- you’d been working as one of them since your first year- but this was yamaguchi’s first year of being captain. this was the first practise game of the year and the loss was devestating. any chance of going to nationals this year seemed like a far away dream, like trying to grasp smoke.

“don’t mind, guys.” you hope your smile isn’t shaky but you don’t get much of a reply as the boys head to the clubroom, leaving you and yamaguchi the only ones remaining outside the gym. the air feels cool on your skin, the sky tinged with streaks of pink and a warm glow as the sun sets below the hills.

“i’m not doing great as captain, am i?” yamaguchi murmurs. you frown at him, mouth falling open but he contunues, staring off at the scenic distance with the tangerine sun reflected in his round, dejected orbs. “i shouldn’t have been captain- if tsukki or kageyama-”

“no, tadashi.” he looks stunned and you hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel as you smile gently. “you’re an amazing captain- this was just a tiny bump in the road but i know you’ll lead the team syccessfully, just like ennoshita, just like daichi.” the mention of your former captains makes him smile slightly, a wistful longing apparent in his face. “i know you will. don’t worry, this was just one practise match and everyone knows dateko is a bitch to play with.” he chuckles, nodding and as you gaze at the setting sun you notice him edging closer towards you.

“i’m really glad you’re our manager, y/n.” he beams and your heart flutters at his sweet words, warmth tingling through you as you grin. “i feel like you’ll really help our team feel so much stronger as manager, but..” he trails off with an awkward chuckle that has you narrowing your eyes.

“tadashi?”

“no, you’ll think i’m stupid- i’m just being dumb-” hesitation is etched all over his face, brewing with anxiety and it makes your chest twinge as you shake your head, trying to ignore how endearing he looks with his freckled cheeks flushed pink.

“no, no, don’t think that! tadashi, what is it?” the corners of his lips tug in a shy smile as he rubs the back of his reddened neck.

“uh- i-i was thinking...well, you’re really pretty and i’ve always liked you, but because you’re manager too, if we- um- you know- we’d be such a stronger team…”

his cheeks glow bright pink, doe eyes widened and you can’t help the smile that stretches across your face, utter warmth flooding through you. so innocent, so sweet, your heart drums against your rib cage as you try to resist the giggle that escapes you.

“tadashi, are you trying to ask me out?” he looks worried, a little crease between his brows as he stammers over his words.

“i-ive always liked you- it’s not just for the team, that’s more of a bonus- it’s okay if you don’t want to, i know...i know i wouldn’t be a girl’s first choice but-”

“nonsense.” he falls silent, blinking in shock as you slide your fingers into his, squeezing his warm hand tight. “you’re my first choice.”

the thing with traps is that they never look obvious. a serpent under the innocent flower. and yamaguchi was the perfect trap.

it starts off sweet- it always does.

you’re not sure how such a sweet angel has been single for so long because your life becomes entirely better with yamaguchi brightening it up. he’s there every morning at the end of your garden bolding a can of coffee and his other outstretched for you to slip yours into, to let him place a gentle kiss on the back of it before you make your way together to school. he’s so proud to tell the team you’re dating- it’s such a thrill to have him announce it with a sense of pride, his eyes softening as he gazes at you whilst hinata cheers him on and yachi is bursting with questions to ask you. and he’s so besotted with you, every bit of free time he wants to spend with you- tugging your hand during breaks at practise, pulling you into empty corridors at school to make out with you pressed against the wall, his leg nudging between your thighs, his hand always entwined with yours whenever you’re both walking, every evening and weekend spent together.

until it starts to feel like too much.

“y/n,” you sigh heavily when hinata clings to your sleeve, resting his head on your shoulder with his brown eyes wide and pleading. “please, please- i’ll buy you meat buns!”

“shōyō, what are you on about?” you’re half-amused by your friend, the friend you’d had since your first year at karasuno, the same friend that encouraged not just yachi to be manager of the volleyball team but you too. if there was anyone you trusted more than yamaguchi and yachi, it’d be hinata- the sweet, vivacious boy you’d spent so many happy times with.

“help us study!” he cries, gesturing to himself and a sheepish-looking kageyama stood a few steps away. “we’re going to fail the exams without your help!” you can’t help but laugh at the same occurrence that happens every exam season without fail, nodding slowly as smiles brighten up the two boys’ faces.

“fine, fine. we’ll study tonight and on the weekend- but next time come to me earlier! you know maths is on tuesday-”

“what’s going on?” you can’t explain why your chest suddenly feels tight when yamaguchi’s bright, tender voice fills your ears. his soft scent of linen envelopes you as he takes his seat on the bench beside you, tsukishima right by his side and you’re not sure why a smile seems to hard to plaster on your face as your boyfriend slides his arms around you.

“y/n’s helping us study for our exams!” hinata beams. you’re aware of tsukishima scoffing, the three volleyball players beginning to squabble childishly, but all you can focus on is yamaguchi’s eyes burning into you. from the corner of your eye you can see the hurt flashing across his face, his head tilting to the side as he speaks quietly.

“you’re helping them study?” you frown slightly at the tone of his voice, nodding with an awkward smile tugging at your lips.

“yeah- just tonight and on the weekend. why?” yamaguchi’s face scowls slightly as his lips are pulled into a thin line. you don’t like the look that lingers in his eyes, the same look he has when you’re chatting away to a classmate instead of him, when you compliment kageyama or the second years on their abilities, when you ask hinata tenderly if he’s okay after he’s had a ball to the face. why does he always look so scorned? you hate the heavy feeling that twinges in your chest when he does.

“alone?” you have to laugh- it’s the only one way to brush it off but he doesn’t look pleased, even when you force yourself to relax in his arms and brush your lips against his cheek.

“don’t be like that, tadashi.”

but he is like that. it seems to be a regular occurrence, and it worsens. anxiety brews in your stomach, weighing you down and making you feel sick every time. hinata hugged you for a moment too long after a successful practise game, his head buried in the crook of your neck and his arms wrapped around you, and yamaguchi refused to even look at you the whole way home, a sour look on his face and his eyes fixated on the road ahead whilst you pleaded and begged for his attention. but nothing- he just left you on your doorstep sniffling and your throat raw from the constant apologies. one time you walked with tsukishima to practise after a lesson with him, smiling and laughing as he shared with you his warm childhood memories of yamaguchi, but your boyfriend didn’t see it like that. your heart dropped the moment you locked eyes with him standing by the gym expectantly, utter betrayal and hurt etched on his face you wanted to sink to your knees then and beg for his forgiveness.

“girls don’t really like me.” he’d sniffled afterwards in your bedroom. “they just use me for tsukishima, they always have- i really thought you liked me for me, y/n.”

“i do, tadashi, i do.” your eyes are hot with frustrated tears as you crouch before him, nuzzling your face into his thigh. “please believe me when i say it wasn’t like that! you know i love you.” his wet eyes sparkle when you say that, face lighting up.

“r-really?” you nod eagerly, not resisting him when he cups your face and brings your lips to his, kissing you sweetly and tenderly. and when you think it’s all solved dread begins to seep into you again as he takes your hand and presses it against his hardening cock.

“t-tadashi,” yamaguchi’s face crumples at the tone in your voice. “i-i’m not ready- you know that-”

“i thought you liked me.” he spits bitterly. it’s the same words, the same words that always makes you feel so pathetic, so useless and shitty, breaking yamaguchi’s heart over and over. so you hold back the salty tears and try not to think too hard about it when you let him use your mouth, trying not to feel hurt. this is normal, you tell yourself. yamaguchi deserves it, you hurt him earlier, but you still hate every moment of it.

eventually you start avoiding people. it feels like every interaction yamaguchi watches goes wrong and ends with him upset, hurt, betrayed, insecure and the guilt of it, the consequences where you have to make amends weighs down too heavy on you.

“you treat me like shit, i just feel like you don’t care.”

“a good manager doesn’t flirt around with the other players- you’re supposed to be my girlfriend!”

“why am i never good enough for you? i’m not even good enough for the team and now I'm not good enough for you.”

the simple thing is just to simply stay away.

the team are confused when you’re suddenly curt and cold towards the first and second years, no longer sweetly encouraging them with enthusiastic compliments and kind words. you have to hold back the tears that prickle your eyes when you see the look of hurt flash across hinata’s face, the sparkle dulling in his brown eyes, when you push him away when he tries to hug you but yamaguchi’s eyes piercing into your back serves as a reminder. your friends see less of you when you decline hanging out with them at lunch to be with yamaguchi instead and you hate how they frown at you with unfamiliarity.

“what’s wrong with you, y/n? why do you keep ditching us now that you have a man?” you want to explain, you really do, but how do you tell them that you don’t want to hurt yamaguchi too, you don’t want him to cry to you about how he feels neglected and pushed aside like you don’t care anymore? how do you tell them you don’t want to have to use your mouth or hands to make it up to him? so you let them be hurt instead, you pull away till they pass you in the hallways without even so much as glancing at you.

you think it’ll get better, that yamguchi will be happier now. but it all breaks down at the inter-high tournament when winning is so close, so close you can almost taste the sweet victory on your tongue. the gym is tense and the boys are playing hard and you’re holding your breath, heart pounding as you will them to win the semi-finals. they’re so close to getting through. it’ll save you if they do.

but they lost. bile burns in the back of your throat when the referee blows his whistle and the shock and dejection floods through the team. your bitter tears match theirs but for a different reason altogether. your body shakes when yamaguchi envelopes it, his tears staining your shoulder and you hate his fingers pressing into your body because you realise you’ll probably have to use it later.

he asks you to come over to his later that night. his eyes are bloodshot and freckled cheeks stained with tears when he asks, his voice cracking and with the rest of the team surrounding you, you can’t say no. you’re their manager, a pillar of the team, and yamaguchi’s girlfriend. how could you say no? so you go, inhaling the cold air and ignoring the dark dread that festers inside you.

“are you cold?” yamaguchi sniffles as you walk, his eyes focused on your shaking hand. you shake your head but as he reaches for you, you have to will yourself not to flinch. you’re not scared of him, you can’t be.

“i’m a rubbish captain.” he mumbles later on, shoulders slouching with dejection. your chest twinges as you sit beside him on the end of his bed, gazing at his forlorn eyes that he can’t even bear to look at you with, utter sympathy flooding you as you reach out for his hand. “everyone thinks it.”

“no one thinks that, tadashi.” you murmur softly, edging closer to him and squeezing his hand. he looks up at you slowly, his dark eyes wide and adoring. “you’re an amazing captain-” you’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours, the kiss hot and feverous as he slides your entwined hand down to his crotch, pressing it enough for you to feel his erection hardening under your touch.

“tadashi-” you groan when you try to pull away but yamaguchi just kisses you more, his other hand cupping the back of your head as he tries to force his tongue into your mouth as you grimace. “tadashi-” you push him away, saliva coating your lips you can’t help but scowl as you wipe it away, yamaguchi watching you with his face falling. “not now, i’m not re-”

“so now i’m a rubbish boyfriend too!” he cries.

you’re stunned as you watch him twist away from you, his pouting lip beginning to tremble and your heart wrenches when you see the tears beginning to flood his eyes, his freckles cheeks becoming flushed as a heaviness settles in your chest.

“i didn’t say that.” you murmur. how stupid of you. he was already feeling sensitive and now you’re making him feel worse, letting his insecurities flood him more and more when you’re supposed to uplift him. how are you messing this up so badly? “don’t say that, tadashi, you know you’re wonderful.”

“then why don’t you want me? every time you say no-” he sniffles, rubbing at the reddened tip of his nose. “why can’t i just do anything right?”

“tadashi, it isn’t like that.” a thick lump rises in your throat as he stares at you expecrantly when you wrap your arm around his shoulders, tenderly ruffling the back of his head. “i’m sorry- you do everything right.” you try not to whimper when you slide your other hand along his thigh, goosebumps pebbling your skin as an icy chill runs down your spine. “i’m sorry- let’s- we can do this.”

you try not to tremble when he peels off your clothes, mouthing kisses at your cold body as his hands roam over you. it feels weird- you’d never been touched before but it hurts when he pinches your nipples and you force yourself not to squirm when he pushes you onto the bed, straddling you as he spreads your legs.

“tadashi-” you whine when he touches your folds, a horrible coldness washing over you. it doesn’t feel like when you touch yourself but you push it away from your mind, telling yourself you’ll like it when he actually does something, you’ll get wet when he fingers you or something. but yamaguchi doesn’t, instead pulling off his clothes and your heart thumps when you realise how fucking big he is. he’s thick and long, painfully hard with the reddened tip leaking precum, a deep moan escaping him as he strokes himself.

“i’ve been waiting for this for so long- you’re going to feel so good.” he groans as he slides his cock along your folds. it feels weird and you’re not even wet but yamaguchi doesn’t take any notice of your squirming.

“tadashi- wait, i want to-” he slaps away your hand when you reach down to touch yourself, instead twining his fingers with yours and pressing your hands flat against the mattress.

“don’t worry,” he coos as he kisses you, lips tasting salty. “i’ll take care of you.”

you can’t even scream when he shoves his cock into you. it burns, the pain agonising and your back arches off the bed, mouth dropping open with silent screams. blood rings in your ears, yamaguchi’s moans as your nails drag down his back sounding so distant like you’ve been plunged under water. it feels like you could die. your tight walls are ripped apart by his thick cock, anguish burning in you and hot tears stinging your eyes as soft sobs escape you.

“oh- you’re so warm, you’re taking me so well. pretty girl, i’m so lucky to have you.” you cry as he kisses you, disgust seeping into you as he fills up your cunt. how could he be so oblivious? or does he simply not care?

“ta-tadashi- i c-can’t!” he ignores you, busying himself with kissing away your tears and you can’t fight him off as he cages you in. it’s torture when he drives his hips into yours, ripping through the flesh and you’re almost grateful for your body’s natural lubrication when you feel the odd moisture between your legs. that’s until you see the redness coating his cock when he pounds it into you and your vision is blurred by the hot tears, your sobs barely shushed by yamaguchi’s soothing hushes and tender kisses that feel so jarring, so wrong.

“i love you.” he grunts. “i love you so much- you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” hot tears run down your cheeks as you turn your head to the side, staring blankly out of his window as the sharp pains run through your body every time his cockhead bruises your cervix. “i love you.” he wants you to say it back but you just feel sick and pained, a cold sweat breaking over your body. when will this be over? you clench your eyes shut, trying to swallow the bitter taste on your dry tongue, trying to pretend it feels okay, bearable even, but it doesn’t and you’re relieved when his throbbing cock pulls out. hot ropes of cum splatter over your folds and you feel like you’ve been split apart.

“you okay?” your heart drums when you see the pinkish fluid clinging to your pussy, the deep scarlet trickling out of your abused hole. “wow, you were a virgin?” yamaguchi’s smile makes you feel sick, your stomach churning. “i can’t believe i was your first. and you were mine.” he reaches out to take your hand into his but you’re quick to turn away, to hold back your hair as you can’t fight the urge to puke all over the side of the bed, tears stinging your eyes and the back of your throat burning.

“hey, y/n. what are you doing here?” you can’t help but start at the sound of the voice, but relief floods through you and your racing heart calms when you see it’s just yachi, a sweet yet confused smile on her face as she approaches. you’re sat against the brick wall behind the gym, staring out at the fields and hills stretching out into the distant blue sky. “aren’t you coming to practise?”

“i don’t know.” you murmur, pausing to take a sip of your water. “i’m actually considering resigning.” you don’t want to meet yachi’s eyes when she yelps with surprise, her eyes widening.

“what? why? a-are you crazy? the team loves you so much, i don’t want to be manager alone!” you can’t help but smile dryly at her desperate wail, glancing at her from the corner of your eye.

“you’ll have the new first year manager.”

“it’s not the same.” yachi pouts, her shoulders slouching. but then the look on her face becomes serious, anxious almost, as she shuffles closer to you, her eyes a little wide. you don’t like the look of cautious sympathy evident in them, her hands clumsily fumbling with the hem of her shirt.

“y/n, is this because of yamaguchi?” you freeze. blood pounds in your ears as you stare at yachi, the look on her face too serious for this to be a joke.

“what? no!” your laugh sounds forced and she doesn’t even crack a smile as she narrows her eyes, scrutinising you carefully with a look of worry etched on her face.

“please tell me if something’s not right. h-hinata says you’re getting really distant from everyone, and sometimes you look a bit...scared? is something wrong?”

yamaguchi forcing his cock into your dry hole. his cries to weigh you down and smother you with guilt. suspicious whispers that leave you scared to even smile at a classmate. his constant presence, his hand gripping yours, because he tells you he doesn’t ever want to be apart from you, he loves you too much not realising he’s drowning you.

“no.” yachi looks surprised as your strong declaration. “he loves me a lot. and i love him. everything’s fine.”

but your face falls as you hear the harsh snapping of a stray twig and yamaguchi’s standing by the corner, his hands curled into a fist and betrayal burning in his eyes.

#tw.dubcon #tw.yandere #tw.manipulation #cw.vomit #darkconfectionery #yandere!yamaguchi #yandere Yamaguchi imagines #yandere Yamaguchi x reader #yandere Yamaguchi #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #Yamaguchi imagines #Yamaguchi x reader #neems’ queueueuuee :3

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xofanfics · 3 years

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Without Warning - Part IV

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Pairing: Reader x Mark ft. Doyoung

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You and Doyoung had the best summer you could. Now that he’s hundreds of miles away in college, you have to go through senior year alone. You meet Mark at a time when Doyoung is making you feel like you’re single.

Mark was completely taken aback by the events of the night. You’d kissed him and you held his hand and you brought him into your room. Mark could hardly contain his excitement about having kissed you, touched you, and having been close enough to pick up on your scent. For him it wasn’t sexual. It didn’t have to be and, to be honest, he didn’t want it to be. At least, not right now. For now, he was just enjoying this innocence with you.

You went in your drawers and pulled out pajamas, sending Mark into anxiety. Please don’t change in front of me, please don’t change in front of me, he thought. The last thing he needed was to get hard right now and to potentially scare you away. He definitely wasn’t ready for something like that. Thankfully, you excused yourself into the bathroom and returned a couple minutes later with a freshly washed face and pajamas on.

You looked beautiful as ever, even with no makeup on. He’d seen you a few times without makeup but on most days, he noticed, you’d at least be wearing eyeliner. But here you were, no eyeliner, no mascara, and none of your usual lipgloss with the slight pink tint to it.

Mark was lying across your bed, heart racing. He was nervous because he’d never seen you in this state and, of course, because he liked you a lot. “You feeling okay?”

You nodded. “Just a little tired. Do you wanna watch my show with me?”

“Yeah. What show?”

“I started rewatching Sailor Moon.”

“I’m down for whatever.”

You crawled into the bed with him and snuggled up to him, lying on his chest. He wasn’t sure if you could hear his heart racing but it was definitely racing. His heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been drinking or what; he just knew that he was very aware of himself right now. Was he breathing too hard? Was he breathing at all? Did he still smell like alcohol? Did you actually like him, the same way he did? He had so many questions and most of them, he couldn’t answer at the moment.

One minute you were watching tv in silence and the next minute, you were asleep. Mark looked down at you and smiled at how cute you looked with your mouth slightly open. He wished he had this view all the time. With a sigh, he thought about all the things you could do if you were his. But for now, he caressed your hand as you slept. He stayed like that with you for the rest of the episode before he figured he shouldn’t overstay his welcome. He scooted from underneath you but before he could get out of the bed you reached out for him, grabbing onto his arm.

“Don’t go,” you mumbled.

“What?”

You opened your eyes and pouted. “Cuddle with me…”

Mark’s heart started racing again but he did what you asked. Plus, how could he resist when you made a face like that. He got under the blanket with you and pulled you closer. You snuggled up to him and said, “Goodnight.” Mark smiled and wrapped his arms around you. And with you in his arms, he fell asleep more quickly than he normally would.

“Y/N?”

Mark shot up, realizing that he probably should’ve asked you when and if your mom was coming back home. He looked down at you, still fast asleep. Should he hide under the bed? In the closet? He heard footsteps coming toward the closed door. Mark bolted into the closet, hoping that the door wasn’t the kind that would squeak as you opened it. Thankfully, it didn’t and he closed the door just enough. He took in a deep breath, praying that your mom had no reason to look in the closet.

“Y/N?” your mom said. She opened the door and Mark heard your mattress shift from outside the closet.

“Hey,” you said. He heard you yawn loudly. He couldn’t see you but he imagined it in his mind.

His heart raced while your mother spoke. Was he breathing too loud? Could your mom somehow sense his presence? Thankfully, he’d come over in his socks so there weren’t any shoes by the door to be evidence. He’d met your mom a couple times at this point but he was pretty sure your mom wouldn’t have been very happy to come home and find the two of you asleep in each other’s arms.

“Did you have fun with Mark and your friends?” She chuckled as Mark’s heart continued racing. “That’s good to hear. Anyway, it’s been a very long double shift so I think I’m going to take a bath with those bath salts you got me for my birthday. Get a little more sleep.”

“Okay,” you said, “See you later.”

Mark heard the door close and relief swept over him. A moment later, when he was sure your mom was gone, he whispered, “Y/N…”

“Mark?” You opened the closet door, surprised that Mark was there. You found him in between your jeans and your t-shirts. “Oh my God, I thought you left! I’m sorry, I forgot to set my alarm. I should’ve told you my mom was coming home in the morning. Unfortunately, she’s not on vacation in Mexico...”

“It’s all good,” he said, chuckling as he stepped out of the closet. “As long as she didn’t see us in the bed together, I think we’ll both survive.”

You laughed, too. “That was way too close.”

“Yeah, for sure. I should get out of here before your mom comes back...”

You nodded, moving out of his way. “Let me make sure she’s in the bathroom.” You left him in the room for a moment. Mark grabbed his phone from under your pillow. You came back and said, “The coast is clear.”

You waved him over and he followed you to the front door.

Mark turned to you. He needed to know before leaving here. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” you said, stretching.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

You nodded. “I remember everything. I meant everything.”

That brought a wide smile to Mark’s face. He felt his cheeks get hot and he wasn’t sure if he was visibly blushing or not. Then again, he didn’t care. Hell, if you meant all the things you’d said, nothing else mattered. You wanted to kiss him, genuinely. He wasn’t sure if you liked him like that but you clearly felt something. And, for now, that was good enough for him.

You had something you wanted to say but you hesitated. Things had taken a turn since last night. “Um…”

Mark noticed your hesitation. He supposed things did get a little awkward. “What’s up?”

“Since we’re sober now, will you kiss me?” you asked, taking Mark by surprise. You’d been so forward for the last ten hours and he had no idea what to make of any of this. You didn’t know what had come over you the past few hours.

“Yeah.”

Mark leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to yours. Your lips felt the same, more or less. They weren’t as moist without lipgloss and they no longer tasted like cotton candy. But he enjoyed the kiss with you nevertheless. He pulled away a few seconds later with a smile. You looked into each other’s eyes for a moment and he kissed you again. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Yep.” You took his hand in yours and squeezed it. “Now get out of here before my mom catches you here.”

With a chuckle and a kiss on your cheek, Mark was gone with the wind.

Doyoung was annoyed and frustrated. He’d been trying to contact you for weeks on end to no avail. You’d dodged every obstacle. He’d hit you up on LINKEDIN, for God’s sake. He was putting in all that effort and you ignored him every time. He’d tried contacting you through your friends, on social media, and so on. But there was never any response.

And then the one opportunity he had to talk to you, you were drunk off your ass. Was it that bad that you couldn’t contact him sober? Was it that bad that you had to be drunk to speak to him?

He was frustrated because he fucked up. He fucked up and he didn’t mean to. New stressors in his life weren’t any excuse to treat you the way he did. He got caught up in this new life and he took you for granted. He assumed you’d stick around because you loved each other, even though he hadn’t been acting like it. College life became more important to him that managing the relationship. But he snapped that one time and that was all it took to destroy the relationship. He was so stupid not to realize what was going on, not to realize how distant he’d become. It didn’t look good on his part, as your boyfriend.

How could he have been so stupid? He missed you. Some days, you were all he thought about. Were you sleeping well at night? Were you having fun? Did you...miss him?

He was frustrated because he made a mistake, one that cost him even his friendship with you. He lost his girlfriend and his best friend, all at once. And he hated it. He missed being able to vent to you when he’d had a shitty day and he wished that he could call and tell you about it. But you took that option away from him and Amber and Phil weren’t much help either. He didn’t want to put them in the middle; it was an issue that he had with you and it wasn’t right to try to go through them.

Doyoung’s phone rang on his desk, disrupting him from his thoughts. It was his mother. She was the last person he wanted to speak to right now. He let it ring, hoping that she’d just leave it at that. The phone stopped ringing and he let out a sigh of relief. The relief only lasted for a few seconds and she started calling again. Doyoung rolled his eyes and sighed instead of hurling the phone across the room like he’d imagined in his head. He picked up the phone from off the desk and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey mom.”

“Just calling to check on you. How is everything?”

“It’s going okay. I’m working on a paper right now. I’m almost done. I got an B on my biology exam. I think I’m getting the hang of how I need to study for that class.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m sure you’ll do better for the next exam. Start preparing now so you can get a head start.” She cleared her throat. “Did you book your flight yet?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been so busy. I meant to tell you about it yesterday.”

“Good. The prices were getting more expensive.” She let out a deep sigh. “I can’t believe your brother is getting married in three weeks.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to have to come right back to school after.”

“Me either. But you know how event venues are. They got a good deal considering it’s a weekend.”

“It’s going to be a long weekend.”

It would be. But all he could think about was the possibility of seeing you while he was back home. He had so many things he wanted to say, so many things to make up for. He just wanted confirmation if things between you two were truly over. What would he find if he looked you in your eyes? Love, hate, or indifference?

Amber hit you in the arm with the copy of Romeo and Juliet that had been sitting on your desk. “You and Mark what?”

You shrugged and said, “We kissed...a few times. And he might’ve slept over last night...”

“Slept over? Did you guys do it?”

“No!” you said, probably a little more loudly than necessary. “It wasn’t like that. We just...cuddled and slept. But I forgot to set an alarm for when my mom came back so Mark must’ve heard her calling me and he hid in the closet.” You grabbed an oreo from the box sitting in the middle of the bed as Amber sat cross legged at the foot of the bed, waiting for the rest of the story. “At first I was sad because I thought he left in the middle of the night but he ended up in the closet because my mom came in to say hi.”

“Well this was definitely unexpected,” she said, “but Mark’s a pretty decent guy, being from the male species and all.”

“Yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked Mark?”

“I didn’t know. I mean, I never thought about it.”

“So you’re not sure?”

“I think I do like him…I mean, I liked the kiss and the cuddling. And it’s not like he’s not attractive.”

“You’re not using him to get over Doyoung, right?”

You shook your head. Of course, getting over a two year relationship wouldn’t be easy but you had to move on eventually. And, with the way he treated you, it would be easier once you met someone who truly had your best interests in mind. Mark was a sweet guy and he was a good friend. Even though things had been platonic up until this point, Mark had become one of your closest friends. You could trust him with your life and you knew that, perhaps, you could trust him with your heart, too.

You weren’t sure what came over you that night but all you could think of at the time was “What if we kissed?” The alcohol gave you the nudge but you found yourself thinking of Mark constantly. And every time you did, you smiled. You remembered how you felt when things had gotten more romantic with Doyoung. You’d get butterflies when you heard his name and you were excited to see him everyday at school.

It was pretty early on but you knew that you were starting to like Mark, as more than just a friend.

Lucas jogged over toward Mark, sweaty and exhausted. He plopped down on the bench next to his friend and took a long swig from his water bottle. They’d been playing basketball for about an hour. “Ready to go?”

Mark nodded, standing up. “Yeah, let’s head back. I’m starving.”

Lucas stood too and they headed to the parking lot, in search of the car. Mark took out the keys to his parents’ car and got in. As Lucas got in the passenger, he said, “So what happened after we left last night? Did you tell her you like her?”

“Well we, uh, kissed...and I did tell her I like her.”

Lucas smirked. “So she likes you after all, huh?”

“I mean, I think so.”

“What do you mean, you think so? Did you ask her?”

“I mean I didn’t ask her directly.”

“So what the hell did you talk about then?”

“Well we actually didn’t do too much talking.”

As soon as the words left Mark’s mouth, he regretted them. He knew that it sounded a lot dirtier than he meant. And he knew that Lucas would take it the wrong way.

Lucas’ eyes widened as he took it the wrong way. “You fucked her?”

Mark turned in his seat. “No, no! We didn’t have sex or anything like that. I know it sounds kinda weird but she brought me over next door to hangout because she didn’t wanna be alone and then she kissed me and then she wanted me to stay over and cuddle with her. So we cuddled and we both fell asleep.”

“Cuddle, huh? We all know what cuddling leads to…”

“Hey, just because that’s what you and Marina do doesn’t mean it’s the same for me and Y/N! When are you going to start dating her anyway?”

“Hey! Don’t change the subject! We’re not talking about me and Rina. When are you going to take Y/N on a date?”

“Soon. I’m just not sure what we should do. Got any date ideas?”

“Y/N is a pretty simple girl. What about a picnic at the park? You could go around dinner and watch the sun set.”

Mark was feeling extra excited today. He got to the bus stop a few minutes early, so he could rehearse what he was going to say to you. He’d rehearsed it a million times last night into this morning. Initially, he thought about texting it to you but he decided against it; he figured that asking you in person would be better.

He’d been texting you all weekend but he hadn’t hung out with you. Part of him was hoping that the two of you could hang out at least once but you’d been out with your mom all day yesterday. And he understood because your mom hadn’t had a Sunday off in a while. He was satisfied with the kiss you promised him over text messages.

You snuck up on Mark without meaning to. He’d been so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t even see you coming in his peripheral vision. He jumped when you appeared in front of him, almost dropping his phone. “Shit!”

“Sorry,” you said, giggling, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” He sighed. “Ready for school?”

“I’m never ready for school.”

Mark chuckled. “Are you busy this weekend?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“Would you wanna go on a date on Saturday?”

Your face lit up at his words. That made Mark happy. “I’d love that.” You hugged him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. And when you pulled away, you gave him that promised kiss.

That, of course, made Mark even happier.

***

TAG LIST: @wanlore

GENERAL TAG LIST: @to-all-the-stories-i-love

If you want to be added to my tag lists, pls send an ask!

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h2bakugou · 4 years

Note

Heh bitchhhhh 🥴🥴🥴, can i request a bakugo x reader. The reader has a showstopper quirk were they can make people break out into song and dance and when kidnapped by the league they force them to preform “ive got a dream” from tangled. P.s play bloxburg with me 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

a/n: heyyyy bitchhhh, lmfao yes, thank you for drafting this idea to me in my bedroom, and we can play bloxburg soon. i had so much fun writing this omg,

the song is from tangled so credit to tangled for most of the dialogue/song!

summary: upon running into the league of villains, you and bakugou decide it’s best to just try and get away instead of staying and fighting, but your quirk is going to affect all in the area.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / showstopper - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, this is a certified crackfic brought to you by my sister’s amazing brain.

wordcount: 1.7k

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s a pretty average day, nothing crazy happening. for a grade in class, you’ve been assigned to patrol near campus.

And you were paired with none other than your crush, Bakugou.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, but it was a battle between knowing if Bakugou was aware of your quirk or not. You were worried.

As the tension settled, thickening with every passing second, every breath feeling harder to push out than the last, Bakugou was tired of the silence.

“Oi! Say something.” Bakugou’s harsh voice cut through the silence like a knife. It was unexpected, and it startled you. You looked over at him and cracked a smile.

“Sorry! I’m just thinking, what exactly are we looking for on this patrol?” You ask, deciding it was best to not worry if he knew about your quirk or not, he was in your class, surely he had to know.

“It’s a patrol. We’re not looking for something specific dumbass. We’re looking for anything out of the ordinary.” Bakugou’s words weren’t meant to hurt you, in fact, Bakugou began to think about if what he had said had been to harsh.

He’d been suffocating the feelings of a crush toward you for a while, and this patrol with one another didn’t help. Kirishima nor Kaminari were here to keep him grounded, he was going to be a mess.

A few screams caught your attention. Darting over to the noise, a lady was running away from an alley. Glancing at Bakugou, the two of you rushed in, not expecting what you saw.

The light from an open door illuminated a portion of the alley at the end, the rest shadowed in darkness from the buildings looming above.

Stepping into the lit room, the door was harshly shut and locked behind you, your eyes focusing on none other than the League of Villains.

“Shit.” You cursed, staring at the group of rag-tag villains with dangerous abilities.

“Well isn’t this ironic.” Tomura Shigaraki trotted over, standing oddly, almost hunched over as he scratched at the side of his neck.

“That can’t be healthy.” You whispered, cringing at the unnerving sound of his fingernails scratching against his raw skin.

“Die!-”

“Bakugou wait!” You pulled him back from lunging at the group, taking a step back away from them.

“We gotta stop them! What are you doing?” Bakugou yelled, glaring at you.

“Do you really think we can stop all of them at once? That’s suicide! Think dumbass!” You hit the top of his head lightly with a fist and groaned.

“That’s my line!” Bakugou grunted, looking back at the league. Shigaraki stood up straight and sighed, flexing his hand.

“What ideas do you have?” Bakugou hated asking the question, but he couldn’t use his. He’d cause to much damage, and structural damage to the bottom floor would cause the building to collapse.

“I have one but-”

“Then use it!”

“I can’t! My quirk it’ll-” You knew this was going to happen.

“I’m getting tired of your bickering. Dabi-”

“Use your quirk and stop wasting time!” Bakugou shakes you, gripping your shoulders harshly. It hurt but you activated your quirk and all the lights went out.

A single light shone down and Shigaraki stepped forward. He wasn’t moving on his own accord, and everyone was just watching as you raised your hands, seemingly controlling him like a puppet.

As music began to play, Shigaraki began to sing.

“I’m malicious, mean, and scary. My sneer could curdle dairy. And violence wise, my hands are not the cleanest.” Shigaraki’s eyes were wide, still conscious of everything that was happening, he was unhappy with the events unfolding.

The rest of the league sat immobile as they watched the scene unfold, Dabi trying to hold back a laugh, Kurogiri being ultimately curious, and Toga happy as can be.

“But despite my evil look, and my temper, and my hook, I’ve always yearned to be a concert pianist.” Shigaraki was moved over to where a piano sat, coincidentally still in pretty okay shape. Guess hiding out in yet another bar had its perks.

“Can’tcha see me on the stage performin’ Mozart? Tickilin’ the ivories ‘til they gleam. Yep, I’d rather be called deadly, for my killer show-tune medley, thank you! ‘Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki’s fingers danced across the keys, always having one on each hand raised as to not decay the entire piano.

It was you controlling him playing, not him at all. Shigaraki had never touched a piano in his life, yet it was very interesting to seemingly be able to play it perfectly.

“He’s got a dream! He’s got a dream!” The rest of the league joined in, singing along with him.

“See I ain’t as cruel and vicious as I seem! Though I do like breaking femurs, you can count me with the dreamers Like everybody else, I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki ended his verse off with a groovy riff on the keys, the spotlight jumping over to Dabi.

“I’ve got scars, and lumps, and bruises. Plus something here that oozes. And let’s not even mention my complexion.” Dabi stepped forward, his hands pointing out parts on his body.

“But despite my extra toes, and my goiter, and my nose, I really wanna make a love connection.” Dabi’s eyes widened as he sang the words, your fingers wiggling around, controlling his movements.

“Can’t you see me with a special little lady, rowin’ in a rowboat down the stream?” Dabi sat on a stool and mimicked rowing in a boat, continuing his verse.

“Though I’m one disgusting blighter, I’m a lover, not a fighter! ‘Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” Dabi jumped up form his stool and stood in the middle of the room.

“He’s got a dream!” The league sang.

"I’ve got a dream!” Dabi continued.

“He’s got a dream!”

“And I know one day romance will reign supreme! Though my face leaves people screaming, there’s a child behind it, dreaming. Like everybody else, I’ve got a dream!” Dabi danced his way over to Shigaraki.

“Magne would like to quit and be a florist!”

“Kurogiri does interior design.”

“Twice is into mime, Toga’s cupcakes are sublime!”

“Mr. Compress knits.”

“Giran sews.”

“Muscular does little puppet shows!”

“And Spinner collects ceramic unicorns~!”

"What about you?” Shigaraki steps toward Bakugou who’s eyes widen in surprise as they quickly dart to you and then back to Shigaraki.

You were controlling everyone, the only downside to your quirk, is everyone in the area is affected. You control those in the room, even Bakugou. You just hoped he wasn’t going to hate you after this.

“I’m sorry me?” Bakugou asks, staring at Shigaraki. Dabi steps forward too.

“What’s your dream?” Dabi asks, pulling him into the center of the room where the spotlight shone.

“No, no no, sorry boys, I don’t sing.” Bakugou replied coolly. You stifled a laugh as he stared at you.

The league glared at him as the music kicked up again.

“I have dreams like you, no really! Just much less, touchy-feely. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny!” Bakugou began to sing, dancing around the bar.

“On an island that I own, tanned, and rested, and alone, surrounded by enormous piles of money!” Bakugou laid on the bar counter, propped up on his side as he pretended to relax on a beach.

“I’ve got a dream!”

“I’ve got a dream!” The rest of the league joined back in singing, while you pulled Bakugou off the counter, still controlling the others. You had to get out of here while they were still distracted. The song was almost over.

“She’s got a dream, he’s got a dream, they’ve got a dream, we’ve got a dream!” The league sang together.

“So our diff’rences ain’t really that extreme!”

“Call us brutal!” Shigaraki started.

“Sick.” Dabi added.

“Sadistic!” Twice and Toga sang harmoniously.

"And grotesquely optimistic.” Kurogiri sang, his voice was surprisingly really good.

“‘Cause way down deep inside, we’ve got a dream!” The league was singing together again.

You pulled Bakugou out of the bar and helped him down the alley as the two of you ran away, heading back toward the campus to let the heroes know.

“I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki started again.

“I’ve got a dream!” Dabi was next.

“I’ve got a dream!”

“I’ve got a dream!” Kurogiri, Compress and Twice joined in.

“I’ve got a dream!” Toga smiled as she joined in. She was having a blast.

“Yes, way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” They all joined in for the last line as the music faded out.

The lights returned to normal and everyone was able to move on their own.

“What the fuck!” Shigaraki cursed, shaking his body out as a chill raced through him.

“That was horrible!” Dabi groaned, staring at Shigaraki.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano!” Toga rushed over to Shigaraki.

“I can’t.” Shigaraki glared at the blonde girl.

“And who knew Kurogiri could sing so well!” Twice laughed.

“Never speak of this to anyone.” Shigaraki groaned, taking a breath from the entire show.

- - -

“Why’d you make me sing?!” Bakugou groaned as he held your hand, pulling you into the main campus building.

“My quirk affects everyone in the area. I didn’t have much of a choice. You had to do something or it would’ve messed up.” You sighed.

“Whatever. I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

“You have a nice voice.” You compliment him. Bakugou’s cheeks twinge red as he thinks about what you just said.

“It was kind of funny to see them all sing and dance like that huh?” You question, gripping his hand a bit softer, your own face heating up as he runs his thumb across the back of your hand.

“It was something alright. Let’s just get this dealt with. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this!” Bakugou stops, pulling you into him.

“I won’t, I promise!” You smile, looking into his crimson eyes.

“Good.” Bakugou’s eyes flick down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, his lips locking onto yours for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Or that.” He pouts, huffing his cheeks as he returns to walking, leaving you stunned as you slowly catch up, excitement bubbling inside you.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

594 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: iv

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 5 ||

word count: 7.7k

sucks when things go south, huh.

warnings: description of bodily injury, blood, mild? gore (it’s just describing injury), description of overstimulation, capital h and c hurt/comfort

------

chapter 4 :’^) thank u for all of the love so far. i appreciate. every. single. one of. u. bottom of my lil rat heart.

this chapter was nearly split, but giving y’all a cliffhanger seemed mean

this the turning point and set up for the rest of the story so buckle up and enjoy ;^)

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Things between you and Hawks didn’t change too much, not externally anyways. Both of you still continued to indulge your feelings, even if you desperately tried to ignore them.

You continued to honestly spoil Hawks in lavish drinks of many sensations. Truthfully, you loved nothing more than seeing his face as he sipped at your new creations, watching the curiosity and pleasure spread over his features made your heart soar in your chest.

And Keigo continued to bask in your company. The drinks were always amazing, but the chatter and discourse between the two of you was what he loved most. Or, maybe it was his learning of you through watching your small gestures and cues. His analytical, interpersonal skills were, for once, being put to a use that didn’t involve espionage or deception.

It felt cleansing.

Despite these quietly greedy interactions, there was a great deal of repression between the two of you. Aimless flirting aside, squishing any growing feelings caused you both a great deal of strain. It worked, avoidance, for a while anyway. It wasn’t without consequences, but they wouldn’t get nasty until later.

One of the most apparent tolls was Keigo’s physical state. Having to actively ignore and quash his feelings for you caused such a deep amount of emotional turmoil. It made him ache all over. This was in addition to an asinine amount of extra hours he was spending staking out the villain syndicate that was indeed in the neighborhood of the tea shop.

(He wouldn’t admit it, but he was being overly diligent in scouting out the organization's doings. They were very close to you and your home, and the thought of you getting caught up in anything to do with his profession fucked him up on-premise alone.)

The combination of both physical and mental exertion made him messier than ever. It physically clouded him a lot of the time. Exhaustion had well and truly seized nipping at his ankles and proceeded to fully rip a chunk from his skull.

Keigo had yet another long day, dawn until at least midnight, no matter his aching body.

He’d be listening in on out some sort of meeting between the villain syndicate and one of its allies, some more reclusive group of villains from the far-off mountains. Neither organization was particularly noteworthy, but they did have some nasty criminal connection that needed to be monitored. That meant a late night for Keigo and an even greater need for caffeine.

He paid you a visit in the early morning.

The moment Hawks came through the door, you lit up, beaming from behind the counter.

The shop was empty, just having opened a few minutes before he appeared. The only sounds were the hum coffee machines, quiet music, and the tapping of your own tinkerings. Normally, there’d be more bustle, but you were alone in the din of the shop.

“Hey, angel,” He flashed you a winning smile, sliding down into his usual stool and propping his elbows on the counter. “Where’s the calvary?”

“Oh, the other openers?” You jerked your thumb to the door. “Running late. They all stayed up late working on a project for school, so I took one for the team and am manning the ship alone for this first bit.”

You sighed, looking quite tired yourself.

There was mutual recognition of your twin state, though it wasn’t verbally regarded in any way.

Hawks was far better at hiding his poor health from you, but that didn’t stop you from seeing the pinholes in his facade. You’d gotten better at it with time.

“What can I get you today, Hawks? Inspire me.” You set the glass on the counter between the two of you, gesturing to the expanse of the coffeeshop. “It’s just you and me today, so I can go all out.”

“You don’t already?” Hawks chuckled, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“I try,” You shrugged. “I really do my best work for you, whether you’re a glorified guinea pig or not. Gotta serve up the best for my best customer.”

On any normal, Hawks would’ve bantered right back at you, keeping you on your toes with quick words and wit.

That day?

He just laughed, something weirdly neutral, almost off-putting because you knew it was manufactured.

You opened your mouth, brows furrowing. You wanted nothing more than to ask ‘hey, are you alright?’.

But, that would’ve broken some of your own, mentally-imposed boundaries. It hurt, to just laugh with him, but it was all you would let yourself do.

“So,” You broke the air with words as opposed to giggles. “What would you like?”

Hawks hummed, “Surprise me.”

“... Like, fully?”

Hawks nodded, slowly.

Keigo, in a movement of full vulnerability, (he told himself it would just be for a few minutes), laid his head on his folded arms, “Go wild, angel. I trust you. Make me anything you’re feeling. Wing it, no pun intended.”

You blinked at him, nodding. His sudden, almost submissive action surprised you. Something in you ached, seeing him so worn down.

You channeled this feeling into a desire to make him top-tier drink.

Reaching into your apron, you fished out your idea notebook. Many had been crossed off over the many weeks (months now?) that Hawks had been visiting the tea shop. You fairly consistently wrote down new ones, so there were always options, but on that day, none appealed to you.

Your gaze flickered back to Hawks, watching the soft movements of his breath through the tight fabric of the back of his shirt.

You needed to make it extra good, help shake Hawks from his stupor.

You’re gonna wing it.

You’ll make a feel-good drink.

It was your only self-imposed criteria.

You hadn’t ever made Hawks a drink without a concept and feeling beforehand, so the concept of not having one seemed novel.

You activated your quirk and began.

“How’s your day been?” Hawks called from behind you, words muffled.

Keigo still didn’t look at you; resting on his arms allowed him a little bit of a reprieve before his grueling day. He’d take it. Hearing your voice would make it that much better.

You described your day with a decent amount of detail for how much it hadn’t gotten started yet. Hamming up the detail meant more time for you to craft the drink. Your mind spun, grasping onto pre-existing, mental abstracts in your oddly calm headspace to create something tangible.

Though your quirk was activated, you weren’t really identifying a feeling specifically, rather just letting your quirk draw from whatever material you had laying around in your brainscape at 6 AM on a weekday morning.

You pulled as many espresso shots as Hawks usually liked (maximum, five, you refused to give him more than that in a single drink), pouring them into some steamed oatmilk and several other ingredients you had mixed into a cup. You tapped some cinnamon on top of the foam, polishing everything off with a dash of sweet cream.

Carefully, you set it between the two of you. Hawks hadn’t spoken since you had begun to make the drink, so oddly silent.

It almost made your skin itch, his lack of response. You reminded yourself with quick glances that Hawks was very obviously out of it and exhausted. You were sure that without the concealer he wore under his eyes (a secret he revealed to only you), he’d have purple circles punched from how overworked he was.

You hoped your drink would be enough to brighten up his day.

You bit your lip as Hawks raised his head, blonde waves more unruly than normal. A small, lopsided smile stretched across his face as he sat up, grabbing the drink and bringing it closer. He had learned long ago to allow them to cool.

“Sorry for not being as peppy as I normally am!” It was almost imperceptible, the off-kilter tone in his voice.

You caught it but said nothing.

He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. “Been running on empty it seems, angel.”

“Then take some fuel, bird boy.” You nodded to the foamy drink. “When are you supposed to be done today?”

“Late, like late. Early morning, probably.” Hawks sighed, taking a sip.

...

As the liquid coated his mouth, Keigo’s mind seized.

What.

What the fuck.

Any and all thoughts he had disappeared. They were incinerated from his mind by the drink’s heat.

A sun-scorching sensation like he’d never even known tore through his body.

It was so different from the other ‘warm’-toned drinks you’d made him in the past. The flavor and feeling filling him up was nothing like the hearth-like drinks you had made prior. You had treated him to plenty of beverages that felt akin to open flame, warm blankets, a cat purring over your chest, a candle on a cold night—

But, nothing even close to this.

This was such a strong feeling that if he was a less trained man, his eyes would’ve rolled back in his head. If he’d been standing, he was sure his legs would’ve been visibly shaking, probably given out.

Sure, the feeling was abstract, not as concrete as your other drinks but it was ineffably strong.

It felt like the flutter you caused in his stomach, but somehow all over and inside of him.

It was the heat in his cheeks when he saw you, but reaching from his toes to the skin of his scalp.

It was the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him, now forcing his hands to twitch around the cup.

The consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning.

It was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. But, it was also soft, colored with the earnestness that he admired about you so much—

Oh.

It clicked as the sensation stirred in his stomach, fluttering to a point of near nausea.

It was you.

The moment he realized it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, as you had made the drink, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming.

His mind stalled as he took it all in, taking another sip.

The feeling washed over him again, equally as wonderfully crushing.

“Soooo,” You drawled, setting a jar next to you on the counter, beaming him a smile. “What do you think? Gimme your judgment, bird boy.”

Keigo struggled to keep his face neutral as he quickly searched yours.

Even in his state, it was clear that there was no deception or riddle laced into the creaminess of the drink. The expectancy in your face was derived from admiration, not waiting for the punchline of an unfinished joke.

“It’s warm! Like, in your stomach.” Hawks looked down before taking another sip, the even smile on his face not wavering for even a moment. “What is it?”

“It’s a miel,” You tapped the jar next to you, pointing at the amber goo inside. “This is some wildflower honey from the owner’s sister’s farm, right outside the city. We have a bunch of extra stuff, so there’s no better time to make a honey-based drink.”

Hawks eyed the steam, “What goes into a ‘miel’?”

Watching Hawks’ shoulder go slack with the next chug he took, you hummed, “It’s a latte, so espresso and milk, then it has the honey in it which is what makes it a ‘miel’. Topped it with some special sweet cream, a bit of cinnamon. My extra touches in it as well, just based on my quirk.”

Hawks met your gaze, his eyes softening with what you could’ve sworn was desperation, but was quickly swallowed up but stoicism, “And what was this drink’s inspiration?”

You laughed, shoving your hands in your apron from the typical anxiety, though the feeling itself was somewhat normal and thereby dulled, “It didn’t have one! I just winged it, like you said. My quirk was activated though, so it was just sort of the concept of what I was perceiving and feeling, I suppose.”

There was a pause as you waited for Hawks to speak.

He didn’t.

Keigo stared down at the drink, then you.

Holy fuck.

This was ambient?

The sensation that made his toes curl and every part of him yearn to reach out to touch you and give all of himself to you—

It was unintentional?

The feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at the teashop. It was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything.

And here you were, unknowingly returning it to him.

You hadn’t intended it to be shared and you had no idea you even did.

Keigo was one of the most perceptive people on the planet— he knew that many of the feelings between the two of you were mutual. As much flirting as there was, a lot of it was real from both of you.

He just didn't think it ran this far deep.

(Mutually.)

“What... What do you think it tastes like?” You asked, that nasty rot in your gut rearing itself as Hawk’s lack of response ate at you. You turned fully to him, actually taking him in.

Keigo did what he was so skilled at doing—

Lying.

Hawks waved his hands in front of him like he was trying to put out small flames, “Nothing bad! Promise, it’s really good! It tastes like how the coffee shop feels. Warm, comfortable. It makes sense that your quirk would reflect that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, good. I’m glad it's good.”

“Very good. I might have to put miels on my list of favorite drinks you’ve made me,” Hawks gave you a relaxed grin, standing and passing a wad of cash to you.

You didn’t expect him to be leaving so quickly, but he did say he was busy.

“Oh, hey, Hawks?” He perked up when you said his name, blinking at you. “I’ve got a project I’m working that I’m doing for the owner, so I’ll be here late. If you’re around, you’re welcome to come by after close if you want another drink? For your long night.”

Hawks softened for you like he so often had come to do. He fluffed up the collar of his jacket, wings ruffling up behind him, “I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ll have some ideas for you then too, how about that?”

“Sounds lovely,” Your voice was like the honey of the drink, warm, sweet, and vibrant. “I’ll see you then, Hawks.”

“See you then, angel,” Hawks practically glowed as he walked from the door, the chime of the bell sounding with his exit. “I’ll text you when I’m close!”

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Over the course of the day, an odd feeling grew in the pitch of your stomach. You did your best to ignore it.

You alternated between serving customers and working on the ‘project’ the owner had saddled you with. Making centerpieces for his sister’s bridal shower was not something you should’ve been doing on company time, but they were giving you a handsome sum of cash under the table for it.

You couldn’t complain too much, other than that it was laborious. Masons jars stuffed with wired lights and frosted glasses, tied with twine and ribbons were all to be prettily arranged by your hand.

During the middle of the day, you went back home, spending your time between shifts catching up on sleep and making some decent food.

The odd gnawing only grew in your stomach.

Keigo’s long day was wearing on, though somewhat uneventfully. Most of his patrolling time was the effortless thwarting of petty crime and easy rescuing.

He even had the time to go back to his agency and snoop.

Because, for how lame his day was, the drink you made him (which he had greedily chugged all of shortly upon leaving the tea shop) caused him to think particularly hard about your quirk.

(As opposed to the asphyxiating awareness of your shared feelings.)

He didn’t get it.

You’d managed to perfectly create a drink that communicated complex feelings. You’d told him in the past that it could be used for any sort of feeling as well, but you were so vague beyond that. You were abstract in the same way you quirk was.

So, he decided to abuse his power a little.

He decided to actually take a lunch at the agency, munching on takeout while clicking through the HPSC’s databases.

Civilian quirks, especially those that had never attempted to pursue any sort of career with them, weren’t documented incredibly well. Maybe a few details that were used in public research projects, but not much beyond that. He had hoped he could dig and find something that would assuage his curiosity and confusion.

He tapped your name into the HPSC’s hero-accessible database, scrolling and pulling up your file.

There was a picture of you, one from an ID that must’ve been a few years old. There were personal details Keigo wasn’t all that interested in, though it was neat to finally know your birthday.

He clicked on the tab for your quirk.

Quirk: Synesthetic Manifestation

Description: Allows the user to materially manifest abstract, synesthetically-created feelings into reality.

This quirk does not allow the user to alter reality, only tangibly create abstracts through the means at their disposal.

Drawback: This quirk causes severe synesthetic overstimulation and appears to be activated unintentionally in instances that expose them to high amounts of stimuli.

Quirk potential:

Keigo knew the concept of ‘quirk potential’ well. Most of the time, this portion on files was only filled out if the individual had ever trained to use their quirk in a profession.

Oddly, your’s contained a few details.

The user showed high potential in initial assessments, but due to the nature of the quirk, its drawbacks, and its recorded usage, this user’s quirk is now classified as lowest potential.

Keigo frowned.

All this just made him more confused.

The file didn’t get into much more detail than you did. The only thing that was new information to him was that at some point you had tried to use your quirk in a training setting and that somehow got you demoted from high potential to lowest potential.

Keigo’s own quirk in the database was regarded as highest potential; you, at some point, were only a step down from him. Something knocked you down from pursuing quirk-based work, and based on your current employment at the tea shop, you never got up. Keigo figured it was the intricacies of your quirk that he didn’t fully understand.

He’d have to be a bit more careful getting any more information out of you, considering how much you disliked talking about it.

Keigo continued to stew, finishing off his lunch while thoughts of you and your feelings danced across his mind.

Though it was clear his adoration was obviously returned, it was much easier for him to muse over the nature of your quirk than the way he wanted to pull you over the teashop’s counter and kiss you breathless.

You went back to work, a few chalky tablets of stomachache medicine in your tummy. They were all you could do to try and quell the twisting in your gut.

By the time you arrived back to start your ‘night shift’, it was late evening, the sun already having fallen into the horizon.

Most of your time prior to closing was spent in the front, helping make drinks and clean up as you could. Part of you was actually excited to throw on some good music and grind after the tea shop was shut down for the night.

Also, seeing Hawks twice in the same day? Absolutely fantastic.

You wanted to try and make him a knockout drink, to make up for the lackluster one you’d prepared him earlier. Seeing his eyes get all gooey with happiness would more than push you through your night of work.

Your phone chimed a bit before close.

[birdboy]: hey ;^) mind if I come by in like a half an hour?

[you]: yeah!! just call me and i’ll unlock the door for you

Your closing coworkers giggled at you. They all knew that that big smile stretched across your face meant you were texting Hawks. You used to get a bit shy about it, but now you just gave them shit. He was your friend, right?

[birdboy]: what if i like, hit the glass, like fly into it like birds do into windows

[you]: okay one- no, that would definitely shatter the windows and idk if i wanna deal with that AND you tonight ;^)

[you]: and TWO- are you speaking. from experience. about hitting windows.

[birdboy]: please dont @ me like this

You snorted.

[birdboy]: i had to pay off a tabloid who got it on camera bc it would ruin my brand

[you]: do u still have those photos

[birdboy]: ... maybe

[you]: hawks

[you]: gimme

[birdboy]: idk if i can my publicist will kill me

[you]: u hear what i hear?? a coward

[you]: how does ‘your brand’ feel about that

[birdboy]: ...

[birdboy]: gimme one of those honey sticks u have at the register and the pics are yours once i get there ;^)))

[you]: DEAL!!!

You pocketed your phone in your apron, unable to stop the almost ridiculous smile that you wore.

Hawks made you uncomfortably happy. You knew that he didn’t feel the same, but he was still there. Even if you were just entertainment to him, you were happy to perform on any stage he was watching.

As closing crept up, you shooed your other coworkers off. Most of the closing tasks were done, they could leave a few minutes early.

As they began to pack up, chatting about some party that night, your insides twisted.

You squeezed the counter, rubbing your forehead while wishing your coworkers a good evening.

Weird.

It was about then that things went to shit for both you and Hawks.

Keigo’s was supposed to be in for a hellishly long shift of surveillance based on the intel he’d received about the syndicate and its impending meeting.

Apparently, that meeting was happening earlier, rather than later.

The chaos started quickly, the meetup going from a strategic talk to an all-out fight between two groups.

It spilled into the nearby streets, both sides unabashed in their destruction.

Perhaps, if Keigo had been faster (what a tall order, for the fastest man in all of Japan), things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.

But quickly, things erupted and the streets dissolved in mayhem as he dove and sent feathers flying.

You stood by the front entrance, waiting for Hawks, idly sweeping. The cleaning tasks were almost done, the world outside was dark with the late evening.

You froze when the ground beneath your feet rumbled with revving engines, the air splitting with the sound of car horns and alarms.

Everything that happened next moved so quickly, it was difficult to follow.

Windows began to shatter all across the street, near and far.

They cracked, spraying glass as a figure cloaked in black flew down the asphalt outside. A red barrage followed after it, nearly subduing it as it raced past the tea shop.

The massive glass panels at the front of the tea shop filled with frosty lines, just feet in front of you.

It clicked for you a few moments too late.

Adrenaline shot through you, but it wasn’t enough.

...

You weren’t Hawks, you weren’t fast enough to outrun much of anything, let alone quirk-shattered glass.

You were just barely able to turn around before the spray of shards reached you.

You would later be incredibly thankful that you wore denim jeans and a wool sweater that day. Without the thick fabrics, you were sure that you would’ve been shredded. The problem was your low-top shoes and thin socks.

Just as you turned, searing pain shot from the back of your left ankle. You urged yourself to forget the specifics, flesh-tearing, mind beginning to buzz.

You just had to keep moving.

Except, you couldn’t. Your left leg gave out with your next step.

You shrieked as you fell to the floor, barely catching yourself. Your palms smacked against the ground, pieces of sharpened glass driving into the flesh.

You couldn’t help screaming, your voice mingling with the sound of alarms, cries for help, and the war cries of a nearby fight.

Oh.

You were in the middle of a fairly nasty villain attack.

...

So much for giving Hawks a better drink.

The mental joke seemed macabre, especially in your state.

You willed with all of your might, for your quirk to not activate. Overstimulation was just inches away from your current state, the sounds outside the teashop boring through your skull like diamond drill bits.

The pain that was radiating from your left leg was nearly unbearable, but you knew that getting out of the front room was imperative.

How you managed to keep your injured leg straight, you’ll never know.

You locked your jaw and pulled yourself along the floor, hoping that Hawks had this all under control. More people were bound to be hurt by the same sort of attack you got caught in, right? How many more folks had been sliced up like you? Worse than you?

Keigo wasn’t having much trouble subduing the villains. They, of course, had no idea that he had been watching the syndicate for three-odd months. He knew their quirks, their tactics, their escape routes, everything. What he didn’t know as well was the other group’s specifics.

From what he had understood before the fight, the two had somewhat friendly relations. Still, Keigo mentally kicked himself for not being more diligent in his gathering of intel.

His mistakes aside, the much more pressing issue was the two-kilometer stretch of shops that were now collateral damage in what was essentially a mobile mob war.

This damage included the tea shop.

When he’d flown past the shop, he’d only caught a glimpse of your face through the glass before it shattered.

You’d looked terrified.

Every part of him wanted to stop, dead in the air, rush in, and make sure you were okay, but he had to at least get things under control until more heroes showed up. Then, he’d be able to get to you.

By the time Keigo subdued several villains of either group, more Pros had arrived on the scene. He sped off to the teashop far too quickly when he saw others gathering. It was an ill-advised move, but he was clouded by a different set of instincts than those cultivated in his hero training.

The flight did allow him to fully take in the damage of the district, though.

It was about as bad as it could be.

Whatever the villain’s quirk was must’ve shattered glass within a certain radius from his body, Keigo observed.

Thankfully, the villain’s quirk didn’t appear to affect anything past two stories of height, sparing all above it. Those panes and pieces that did shatter had sprayed businesses, restaurants, shops, and the street with shards of glass. Not to mention that they flew at the speed of projectiles.

(At the full-minded revelation that there was no way you weren’t hurt, Keigo felt his stomach flip and eyes burn.)

Keigo shuddered to think how bad the damage would’ve been if the encounter happened during broad daylight.

Keigo curled in his wings, dropping onto the floor at the front of the teashop through the broken window.

He kept his expression somewhat neutral, though the scene before him tore at his heart in a way he wasn’t expecting.

The tea shop was destroyed.

The pretty, warm lighting fixtures had shattered, fine filaments exposed, and a few sparking. The glass jars on your wall of tea blends were broken, spilling leaves and dried herbs across the back counter. That wasn’t even to mention the layer of shards from all of the glassware stored around the coffee machines.

Seeing the destruction of one of the only places he had ever found real comfort in was awful, and it tore something hidden and vulnerable in his heart.

But far, far worse was the absolute horror that bloomed in his chest when he saw the sizeable spot of blood in the middle of the floor, smearing to the back doorway.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted, ignoring any stealthy elements and hurriedly following the trail.

“B-back here,” Oh, your voice was so weak.

Keigo couldn’t make himself move fast enough.

You’d managed to get yourself to the back, biting your lip so hard you were scared you’d break the skin. Part of you was lucid enough to know that making too much noise could be bad. Then again, the shop was supposed to be closed. Did anyone even know that you were there?

Hawks did.

You gripped at one of the edges of the stainless steel countertops, using all the strength you could muster to pull yourself upright. As careful as you were not to jostle your injured leg (that you still hadn’t looked at properly because you were terrified), the moment you bent it, you had to suppress a scream, turning it into a slow, nasty exhale. You let yourself sink to the floor again.

Something was seriously fucked up.

Then Hawks called your name.

You were sprawled out on the floor, injured leg awkwardly turned and extended to prevent the pain from being made worse.

The moment he saw you from the doorway, the remnants of his wings flapped, practically throwing him to the ground next to you.

The moment you saw him enter the back room, any and all fronts you had put on for yourself fell apart.

“H-Hawks,” You hated how small your voice sounded as you pushed yourself closer to him.

The details of him, how ruffled his remaining feathers were, how wide and scared his eyes were, how different he looked from the times you’d seen him on the news confidently saving the day, were lost on you.

Though, Keigo noticed your poor state easily. It was more obvious.

He scanned your form with the trained precision he was known for. He took in the shattered piece of glass sticking from your leg, bleeding lightly. Your palms weren’t bloody, but they were dotted with shards of glass.

He also noticed your panicked shaking and your unnaturally dilated pupils, beyond anything he’d seen while you’d made drinks for him.

“Is your quirk active?” Keigo asked, pulling off his gloves and grabbing one of your wrists. He turned your palm, using two of his smallest feathers like tweezers to pick at the shards pieces of glass.

“Y-yeah,” You replied, using the back of your other hand to wipe at your eyes. “It does this when I’m under extreme stress. I can’t turn it off.”

Keigo managed to laugh, relieved that the cuts in your hands weren’t that severe, “You just focus on me, okay, angel? That’s all you gotta do.”

You nod, trying to hold your overstimulated mind back. It’s fruitless, truly, because the moment Hawks reminds you that he is, in fact, there, and that you are safe, you quirk-addled mind spasms.

The awful mix of sensations whirled in your skull as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead into Hawks’ shoulder. In other circumstances, it would be a romantic gesture. But, the only purpose you had in the contact was hoping, praying, that the heat of his body would distract you from the swirling of sensations you couldn’t stop.

In that mental soup, within the fear, intense pain, and loss, oddly enough, was the unignorable, pleasant feeling of being so close to him. It made your heart squeeze. But, it was a single spice of sensation in a foul-tasting stew though, and it was hard to isolate the good in the muck of your mind.

You shook against him as sounds and pain blended inside your skull, thoughts becoming murkier and harder to understand.

Keigo finished tweezing your other hand, that one worse off, and wrapping it in some gauze he had stuffed in his jacket.

His mind screamed for him to wrap you in his arms, to pull you close and keep you safe. It was all he could fathom doing, just nearly moving to do so—

That was until the popping rumble of a nearby explosion interrupted his thoughts.

You jumped against him, muffling a scream in his shoulder.

His heart ached.

“(Y/N), I know this is all scary,” Hawks’s voice came through your sensational slurry. “But, I need to be back out there right now.”

“No.” Your mouth spewed with no discernable thoughts behind it. “Don’t leave. Please, don’t. Please.”

You caught Hawks’ wince, but barely.

He was already repositioning you, scooting you under one of the countertops, “Angel, I’m sorry. I need to go, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

Your eyes screwed shut, vibrating in your skull as pulling your uninjured leg to your chest.

Hawks looked equally as torn up about having to leave, brows creased with his lip worried between his teeth.

Despite how messy your brain felt, you knew that you were beyond defenseless. Even if your mind could easily conjure up an infinite number of ways to bring a person non-lethal (and lethal) pain, you were turning to mush mentally and you had glass sticking out of your leg. You had no fucking way to create it with your body.

Your back hit the wall under the counter and you managed to wrench your eyes open, taking in Hawks and his visage while you spun.

He looked so sad.

The feeling of mourning and fear spat so hotly in your mind, it was like you’d been intangibly burned by his expression.

You choked on your own stored tears, reaching out for him.

He caught one of your hands, the wrapped one, and squeezed it lightly.

Even with so few feathers left, Hawks plucked one, about the size of your forearm. He replaced his hand with the plumage.

“(Y/N), I will be back. I promise,” Hawks (so weakly) smiled, trying to reassure you. “You snap that feather if anything changes, okay? If anyone comes into the shop who isn’t another pro, or if you start to feel faint. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” You gritted out, somehow laughing. Your vocal cords rubbing together sends a wave of agony up the back of your neck, burying behind your eyes. You press your forehead in your bent knee.

With one last, fleeting look, eyeing your wound and remembering slate-colored eyes, Keigo took flight into the fray once more.

Keigo hated leaving you. He hated it so fucking much. It burned him, felt wrong in every way. You were so vulnerable in your state. Both of you knew that without him there, you were entirely exposed and fairly defenseless.

It perked up that protective instinct he’d repeatedly had towards you for months. It was probably something related to his avian mutation, but it was just blood-boiling need to keep you safe.

Yet, he just left you, wounded and mentally spiraling, in the middle of a destroyed building.

If he wasn’t trained so well, he would have acted differently. But, it had been burned into him time and time again what his needs were in disaster situations.

Neutralize, stabilize, clear out.

Through his exhaustion, he fought and soared with all he had, fatigue forgotten and replaced by hot cortisol. He forced himself faster, zipping down alleyways and across rooftops at some of his top speeds.

While Keigo tracked down all of the villains (he managed to miss the first time), he trusted that the other Pros could deal with the heavy collateral damage. He was number two, he could catch some organized criminals.

Beyond his training, Keigo had an even bigger motivation.

He could feel you.

The feather he left with you must’ve been pressed right up to your chest, maybe under your neck with the way Keigo could so intensely feel your breath and heartbeat. He could sense it gradually speeding up to the point of what had to be panic. If Keigo focused, he could make out your terror-stricken babbling.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This is fine.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Hawks is okay.”

“He’ll come back.”

“He won’t leave.”

...

“Everything's gonna be okay.”

With that last one, your words gave out and it turned in gasping breaths.

Keigo worked himself harder, striking down the last of villains with absolute precision, all distractions forgotten in the most pivotal moments of combat.

The instant the villains were in custody, restrained, he was flying back towards the tea shop.

You don’t remember any of this well. Your mind was liquified, your body throbbing in pain.

It had been an incredibly long time, years since you’d been in any situation resembling a villain attack. There was no way to stop the synesthetic storm that was choking your mind. Every sensation was magnified, mixed with another, and shoved down your throat without any ability to change it.

A few minutes after Hawks left, giving you time to stew and roll, you spiraled more harshly.

When you realized how pitifully helpless you were, you fell away, pressing your wet face into the Hawks’s feather. Your vision muddled between black and red.

You felt the cold of the blood wetting your pant leg.

Your wound is bad.

You hadn’t fully looked at it in awhile.

Opening your eyes, you suppressed a wave of nausea at the small puddle of blood growing under the bottom half of your useless leg.

The way the denim of your jeans stuck to your skin mixed with the smell heady smell of blood made you gag.

You couldn’t keep it up anymore.

Letting your eyes shut, you sank down to the floor, cheek pressed into the dirty cement.

You don’t know how long you idled, drowning in your mind’s colors and vibrantly violent sensations.

You were only half-conscious when the feather pressed to your neck twitches.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted as he landed in the teashop, flying straight to the backroom, bypassing the mess of broken glass.

His breath caught, seeing you slumped over.

“Fuck,” Keigo couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice as he noticed how much blood had pooled beneath your injured ankle. “Hey, hey, (Y/N)—”

He sure fucking sucked at admitting his faults, and recognizing the severity of wounds was indeed one of them. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to deal with casualties so closely.

Keigo threw off his gloves, tossing them behind him without looking.

“‘M fine,” You started to push yourself up, hissing at the pain that surged from cuts in your hands. “Brain’s mushy.”

“That all?” Thank god Hawks still managed to joke. The humor dashed across your vision like little sparks. You stifle a weak snort.

“There’s my angel.” Keigo was so relieved to see you conscious that he didn’t notice his own possessive slipup. “Are you lightheaded?”

Gingerly, he helped stabilize your body upright as you wrenched your eyes open.

“A little, it’s okay, this is what happens,” Your voice was so loud in your own skull, it hurt. Though, the pain of your words was only a prick in the wet dough of your overworked mind. Sensation was pain, rolling over you and making it harder and harder to stay lucid.

Keigo swallowed thickly at the sight of your fully-blackened irises.

He needed to get you out as fast as possible, but that required assessing the gash in your leg.

His gaze flickered to your ankle, “Can you move your toes?”

“I don’t want to.”

Keigo frowned, weakly, pushing you as upright as possible as you began to slip to the side.

“Please, you have to try, okay?” Keigo begged, not noticing his own voice wobble.

You shook your head, grabbing it in within its own motion. The dizziness made your insides knot and stick together.

“(Y/N), please.”

You shifted your gaze to him, vision tilting as you did.

The frown on your face split as you just barely moved your toes within your blood-soaked shoe.

The fresh pain, vibrant and boiling, cut through the fog like a heat-blackened knife.

Your own fist flew into your mouth to mouth to suppress the cry that bubbled from your throat. You half-recognized it was the one holding Hawks’s feather.

You couldn’t see the way Keigo flinched at the sound, immediatly trying to soothe the two of you.

“Alright, good, okay, you can still feel them,” Hawks managed to laugh, cutting into the miasma of your psyche. It was something light and airy, tasting like packet sugar on the sides of your tongue.

Chasing the goodness of Hawks’s voice, you mustered up as much clarity as you could grasp, willing yourself into full sentences, “Hawks. I swear to fucking God, if you do not get me out of here right now, I will never make you a drink ever again.”

Keigo blinked at you, nodding, watching your attempt to focus on him, though the fully inked irises seemed to refuse to stay put.

So, this is what the file meant about the cost of your quirk.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, dove.” Hawks scooped you up before you could manage to put more thoughts together. A few of his feathers flew to stabilize your injured leg.

His touch felt good, like incredibly good. Even as the crunch of his boots on the broken glass of the tea shop scratched at your inner ears and burned your sinuses, the heat and texture of his jacket caressed over your cheeks. His warmth tasted like honey and cream.

Your head lolled onto his chest, idly playing with the filaments of his feathers that you refused to let go of.

(Keigo didn’t want you to, anyway.)

He couldn’t fly well, not in his mostly-featherless state, so he took to walking instead. He sidestepped as much glass he could, mostly watching your half-lidded eyes fixate on the feather you had pressed up to your face.

It was a weird circle, Keigo feeling your heat and breath so close, both on his body and on the sensitive plumage. Technically, he was doing his job, so he let himself indulge just the smallest bit in being so close to you. When Keigo squeezed you, nearly at the medic’s area, you tucked your face into his collarbones, breaths slowing from panic. You were even slack in his grip.

A paramedic rushed up to the two of you, guiding you to a setup stretcher and a waiting line of ambulances.

“We can take it from here, Hawks, no need to stick around,” The paramedic’s voice cut through the air, dripping bitterness on your tonsils and iron nails in your lungs.

Hawks set you half-down onto the lip of the vehicle, “Nah, it’s okay, I’ll hang out with them for a sec. They’re a friend of mine.”

He’d never said it before. That you were friends.

Heat rushed up to your fingertips, sweetness washing over your wounded leg, topped off silken air settling around your ears.

You’d drown in the sensation, a million times over.

The paramedic ran off quickly, a man with a nasty head wound taking precedence over your leg (which seemed to have clotted somewhat with your somewhat more relaxed state).

Hawks still didn’t leave.

Rather, he moved closer.

So did you.

From your spot sitting on the edge of the ambulance, your injured leg was twisted and propped up while the other dangled off the edge of the vehicle.

Keigo was right up against the metal, allowing you to lean on his side.

“You good?” You asked him, bumping your leg into his lower back.

Keigo couldn’t help jumping. You’d never casually touched him.

(He really liked it.)

Though the setting and circumstances were fucked, he figured it was okay.

You were friends, right?

Hawks wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing you into his side.

You took it a step further, wanting to simply soak in the amber, milky feeling of his touch.

You squish your cheek low against his collarbone, drinking in the smell of his sweat, stale, spiced cologne, and rich, expensive smelling hair oil.

The scents washed over your skin, rolling over your burning wounds like aloe and clean water.

“Thank you.” Your voice is small and soft, kept gentle by your last sparks of lucidity.

You heard Hawks chuckle, your vision swimming in honey and yellow with the sound, “Just doing my job, you know.”

“I mean, yeah,” You laughed too, pressing your nose harder into him. “But, it’s you, and I’m just glad you’re here.”

“You better stop being so sweet,” The hand around your shoulder rubbed slowly, up and down your spine, sweet spices and sugars dancing on the roof of your mouth. “Gonna give me ideas.”

The touch, something you craved and denied yourself, pushed you over the edge as his touch dissolved across your overstimulated mind in cresting waves of rushing, blessed heat.

Finally succumbing to the flood of your quirk, drowning your mind in both agony and absolute calm, you muttered out the last clear thing you said that evening, “We always give each other ideas, silly.”

God, the many meanings behind your words spun and stuck in Keigo’s mind like the taste of the miel he drank that morning. They relentlessly clung to his psyche, wanting to know more.

He stayed close while you were assessed and strapped into the ambulance. He sent a few of his last feathers to retrieve your jacket and purse from the wrecked shop.

All the while you clutched his bare hand, irises black while the whites turned bloodshot.

As the ambulance drove off towards that public hospital, he could feel the steady beat of your heart through the crimson feather he made sure was tucked in your hand the moment he had to let it go.

He felt you squeeze it, and he wanted nothing more than to return the gesture a thousand times over.

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x you #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo reader insert #hawks reader insert #hawks fanfiction #reader insert #mha x reader #tw blood #keigo x reader #keigo x you #keigo x y/n

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nose-bandaid · 3 years

Text

love, at its core

hi!! i hope you're havin a good day rn 😊😊 i just saw requests are open??? i was gonna ask if i could request something with yuto?? like his s/o is chillin with him at home and then they just get hit with the realization "omg my boyfriend is just sitting there and i can kiss him any time i want??? all i have to do is ask??? is it really that simple???? what a concept..." i know its very specific but its just smth ive been thinkin about these days?? like people datin can just kiss each other any time???? its just so simple yet so special at the same time??

Yuto x (gender neutral) Reader fluff | 2k words

synopsis: waking up one day, you were hit with a curious thought that made you realize how lucky you were to have a boyfriend

a/n: here you go anon !! i hope that this is what you wanted and that i didn't get carried away with the idea 😅 enjoy<3

ngl this ended up a little similar to -27°C but i love domestic relationships so it's cool

There was something peculiar about living with your boyfriend.

Nothing had changed since yesterday, or last month, or even the year before. You've been living together for a while now and today shouldn't have been any different. It shouldn't.

However, an intriguing thought in your mind constantly nudged you to love him even more today.

When you woke up, the first thing you did was roll over onto your side to study Yuto's face. Even asleep, he was incredibly pretty and you reached a hand to brush the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. He's been growing it for quite a while now, and oftentimes he would tie it all back in a small ponytail that you thought was endearing. But you thought he looked especially fluffy when he let his hair down. The sight of it that morning, however, tickled your own face and you tucked it behind his ear with a small smile.

"Better?" You whispered, not really expecting a reply because you believed he was still asleep. But he did, in fact, whisper a quiet "better" and you locked eyes with him in surprise.

"G'morning." He croaked out, trying to rub the sleep out of his face.

"Good morning Yuto," You replied, laughing when he leaned into your touch and tried to snuggle back to bed. "It's time to wake up, sleepyhead."

He wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer, burying his face into your neck to plant a kiss there. "But there's nothing planned for today." He whined, and it came out more of a question than it did as a complaint.

You wriggled your way out of the hug and poked his cheek. "You promised you'll make breakfast today though!"

That caused him to stir.

Yuto hefted himself into a sitting position with a huff and sent you a lazy grin. "I guess you're right; I can't back out of that."

Leaning in to plant one last kiss on your forehead, he patted your shoulder before standing up. "Just stay in bed for a while longer, love. I'll let you know when breakfast is ready."

You watched him quietly as he changed out of his pyjamas and exited the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so that you didn't feel completely alone. Placing a hand on your cheek, you wondered why today, of all days, your heart suddenly decided to skip a beat with every word he said. With every move he made.

It was probably then, that something within you clicked and made you realize that wow, you have a boyfriend.

And you have the privilege of waking up next to him every morning and seeing him smile.

=====

You got out of bed not long after Yuto left the room. The sound of the dishes and sizzling on the stove only made you want to wake up and join him in the kitchen.

When you arrived, Yuto greeted you with a nod towards the coffee brewer, already boiled and ready to serve. On your way to grab a mug, you glanced over his shoulder to see what he was making and sent him an approving smirk.

"Looking good, Yu."

He laughed as you poured yourself a cup of the drink and returned to the table. "Are you talking about me or the food?"

You shrugged. "That's up to you. It could be both, you know."

"Well, you came just in time to eat my beautiful breakfast." He replied and transferred the food onto the plates neatly laid out on the table. His spare hand reached into the drawer behind him to grab the utensils and he handed it over to you. "Time to dig in?"

You puckered your lips slightly as you accepted the food. "Give me a kiss first?"

If the sudden request for affection surprised Yuto, he didn't show it. Instead, he promptly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a quick kiss on the lips. He tasted like the chapstick he always kept with him — a mix of vanilla and strawberries.

"Another, please." You asked when you separated, eliciting another one of his lighthearted laughs.

"Anything for you, love."

The kiss was deeper this time, and you blindly dropped the fork and spoon somewhere on the empty space of the table in order to wrap your arms around his neck. Beyond the sweetness of his lips, you could taste the lingering mix of morning breath and bitter coffee.

"Yuto," You muttered, breaking the kiss. "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

"That's..." He averted his gaze. "I'll do it later, I promise. Let's just eat breakfast before it gets cold?"

"Okay, okay, you win." You decided, backing off to pull yourself a chair. "Let's test out your chef skills."

The breakfast was delicious and he beamed when you praised his cooking skills. You found yourself settled right beside Yuto, as opposed to your usual seat directly in front of him. With an arm linked into his (which admittedly made eating a little more difficult for both of you), you stayed close to the warmth of his body. Placed in front of you, carefully balanced against the box of tissues was your phone playing a video that you've been wanting to show him for a long time now.

Already knowing what's going to come next, you spent most of the time watching Yuto's face, catching every reaction and comment he made about the video.

It was the mundane things like these that made you appreciate him — or even the concept of dating — even more. Sure, going out on exciting dates, sharing thrilling memories. But being able to see him do the most normal activities while having him by your side? You believed that was the peak of a relationship.

"You have something on your face." Yuto's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked at him in confusion. Before you could register his words, a thumb was already wiping your cheek, clearing you of your mess. "There."

"I love you, you know that?" You blurted out the moment you got over the initial shock.

"And I love you more, you know that?" He cocked his head, mimicking your voice.

You buried your face into your hands, unable to handle his cuteness. "Gosh, you're going to be the death of me."

"I'll make sure to take credit at your funeral, then."

=====

You spent the rest of the day trailing Yuto more than you intended to. But you couldn't help it when everything he did made your heart flutter. It felt like the beginning of your relationship all over again. You were amazed when you realized that you could simply ask him for affection and you would just... receive it?

There really was someone in this world who loved you just as much as you loved them. If you asked for a kiss, Yuto would willingly kiss you — this morning was proof of that. And you knew for a fact, that if you hugged him, he would always hug you back. There was hardly a time where he didn't return the "I love you" when you said it to him. And he never forgets to show you just how much you meant to him.

They were all simple things. Things that you'd normally overlook because they were so normal. But at the same time, they were the things you treasured the most.

This concept of dating... was quite a unique one.

"Yuto~" You called out to the boy who, oddly enough, was just standing in the middle of the room, staring out the window. "Can I have a kiss?"

As much as dating piqued your curiosity, you weren't going to complain about how simple it was at its core.

Without asking any questions, Yuto pecked you softly on the cheek, lingering there for an extra moment. You could feel his lips curl up into a smile before he pulled away.

He turned back to the window and squinted his eyes when the sun shone brightly on his face. "The weather's nice today, kinda makes me want to go on a walk."

"I'll come with you!" You offered readily and he perked up at the idea.

"Is that so? Then I guess that's a good incentive to go on a walk." He hummed.

"Of course I'd come with you!" You argued, following him to the front door and slipping a light coat on. "But on one condition."

"And what's that?"

"Let me hold your hand?"

After his shoes were put on, he quietly held out his hand for you to take, and that was enough of an answer.

======

Later in the evening, the two of you were relaxing on the couch watching a rerun of an old show you've watched far too many times now. But with the comfort of the plot and the way it never failed to make you laugh, neither of you minded.

Yuto let you hug his arm as you played with one of his hands. Like this morning, you found yourself spending more time thinking about him, and the show soon became background noise. You inspected every inch of his hand, placing soft kisses on it once in a while. You thought it was incredible, how every single part of him — both inside and out — could be so beautiful.

"What's up with you today?" He asked playfully when you finally distracted him enough to tear his eyes away from the screen. In the back of your mind, you noticed you were both missing out on one of your favourite scenes. "You've been clingier than usual since morning, did I miss something?"

When you didn't answer right away, Yuto's eyes widened as he suddenly sat straight up. "Wait, I didn't miss something, right?"

You laughed at his reaction and pat his shoulder reassuringly. "There's nothing special happening today, Yu, don't worry. I was just thinking..."

"About?" He relaxed back into the couch and let you pull him into your embrace.

You pondered over how to answer him for a couple of seconds. "About how lucky I am to have you."

"That's it?" He asked, baffled at the simplicity.

"Well, in short, yeah." You hesitantly answered and met his gaze when you felt it burning into you. The look in his eyes was a familiar one; a mix of curiosity and determination as he encouraged you to continue.

"It's normal for me to wake up next to you, and see you go to work, and watch stupid shows together and eat meals together and kiss each other goodnight. I don't normally think twice about all of that. But this morning, I realized that being able to do those things with you is so special and I'm so lucky to have you as my boyfriend."

"You know," He started thoughtfully and laced the hand you were holding into yours, tracing light patterns with his thumb. "I've never thought about it that way until you mentioned it."

"It puts things in a different perspective, doesn't it?"

Yuto's eyes wandered as he spoke. "It does, and it's a nice reminder to appreciate everything that we have right now."

"Exactly!" You agreed, happy that he understood what you were getting at.

"Is this why you've been exploiting my kisses today then?"

You froze. "Uh, maybe?"

"And to think that I was worried about missing something important." He let out a dramatic sigh.

"Listen, this was important okay!"

"I know, I know." He moved your clasped hands onto his lap, pulling you closer to him. "I'm glad you brought it up, it's a nice thing to think about."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence to focus on the last few minutes of the show, everything long forgotten until the credits rolled across the screen. Yuto shut off the TV once they did, tired of the mindless entertainment and stretched as you spoke up again.

"So... I can still have another kiss though, right?"

He smiled. "Yes, of course, you can."

#newskynet #kdiner #pentagon #pentagon yuto #yuto x reader #pentagon x reader #yuto fluff #pentagon fluff #yuto #adachi yuto #nose-bandaid

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Fan Club IV

A/N: This part 👀 I can’t lie, it’s very hot and smutty. Y’all did ask for filth though so, be warned. It’s the catalyst to essentially the rest of the story. This of course, as all our stories are, is all fiction, so, sit back and enjoy! ✨✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, filth!, exhibitionism, DIRTY talk, degradation!kink, messy 👀, angst

word count: 16k

When Jeff texted Y/N about an event that she was meant to attend with Harry at the club she got slightly nervous. One, because she knew there would be loads of paps, two because it was a club night with Harry, three because drunk Y/N was something else.

The outfit was already selected, Y/N had picked out something she knew would wow both Harry and everyone else at the club. She figured since most girls Harry had on his arm were beautiful in the model way, Y/N would show off what it meant to be beautiful in another way. The dress showed off every single curve she had, accented her waist and brought attention to her assets with grace. It was a light pink silky dress and it fit like a glove. Y/N has spent the night before and day of preparing. Showering, moisturizing, doing her hair and makeup to make sure it was absolutely perfect. She sprayed herself with her perfume and checked herself out in the mirror one more time. She looked impeccable if she did say so herself.

Harry hadn’t been sure about what the night would bring. Things with Y/N had been alright. Sometimes he would be a little cold but it was mainly after she would turn him on, and he had to kill the mood ASAP. Because if he didn’t? He may do something he regretted.

Tonight she was going to go home with him. Jeff had chartered a car for them, so he had gotten driven to pick up Y/N as well, they’d never had a sleepover before. He wasn’t sure what that would bring either. How far his self control could stretch. Harry liked to think he could be good with it. But with the possibility of Y/N now knowing his weakness, his lowered inhibitions, and close quarters would be so difficult for him. He felt a little nervous pulling up to her place, popping a piece of gum in his mouth. Jeff had said they needed to be a bit more obvious about their relationship now, and Harry needed a few drinks in him to really let go. To her it would be acting. To him? It was living out a fantasy with an excuse afterwards. However when Y/N had crawled into the car, his throat went dry. No. No fucking way— he was gong. To die. The silk of the dress clinging to every inch of her, her lips glossy and a deeper color. He was going into overdrive in his mind.

“Hiya!” Y/N giggled as she hopped into the car. She knew. Of course she knew the outfit she was wearing was going to push the envelope, it would make Harry act a certain way and inevitably help her find out how he actually felt about her. Y/N wanted to know for a fact if she was making up the sexual tension between them because Harry really was just flirty. Fucking libra placements. Jeff had instructed the two of them to drink tonight, let loose and just have fun. That worried Y/N a tad bit because well, when she was drunk she had no filter. For the sake of the club night and people watching them it would be great, for them alone tonight? She wasn’t so sure. From what she knew about drunk Harry? Well, he’d be all over her too. But drunk Harry really just clung on to anyone around him.

During the week Harry and Y/N had seen each other a few times in the morning at the bakery, did their usual routine and well, Harry truly would have eaten his body weight in lemon bars by the end of it all. More fans were coming into the bakery, expecting to see him. They were actually surprisingly really nice to Y/N and gave her compliments and told her that she was doing a great job. Y/N was told not to confirm or deny to make things seem more natural, but still let them know that it was in fact true.

Harry had to reconnect his brain to his mouth because half of him was dying at the moment. The bottom half. His brain was fuzz. How did a girl look this good? How? And of course. It was the one person he shouldn’t be having at all. But his body gave not a single fuck, and his heart too, apparently.

“Hi...” He said after clearing his throat. “You look.... uh, good.” Fit. Sexy. The dress clinging to the curves that had his mouth watering and the fact he knew they’d be dancing tonight and she would feel if he was hard which... he couldn’t kid himself and say there wasn’t a high possibility. It was scary. There was more than just sexual frustration too, for example, how Harry did actually like her, but he was too afraid to get hurt. How he wanted to hold her hand and always, always wanted to be touching her all the damn time. He knew after a few drinks he could be needy, clingy. Would Y/N be okay with it? Their mornings at the bakery had resulted in some cheek kisses and hugs longer than needed but, he hadn’t been very touching before.

“thanks babe.” Y/N smiled, “you look nice as usual.” She added as she buckled up. They talked more often now, things were less awkward during car rides and frankly she had a feeling Harry was only quiet because he was overwhelmed by how she looked. The drive was a short one, seeing as they were relatively close to central by car. It would be quick to get to the club they were meant to be at and Y/N knew that the second they stepped out of this car they’d be all over each other.

As they arrived, paparazzi stood waiting for them, having expected this event. Jeff has planned tonight to be the official announcement of their relationship. They had been photographed for four months now and well, people were eating it up.

“Alright.. I know that the paparazzi are a lot sometimes so just don’t let go of my hand and I’ll make sure you’re good. Yeah?”’ The memories of her panic attack made him so sad. So worried. Harry didn’t want that to happen again but if it did, at least now he knew how to deal with them. Half of him was giddy with excitement though. Getting to be touchy with her, getting to hold her close and be coupley? He was very much wanting that. Either it would help him get it out of his system or it would fuck him over. Either way, he would be touching her.

Harry got out first, holding her hand as he helped her down. He was feeling extra protective but this time they stood back. Still shouting things but he squeezed her slender hand in his and helped her towards the door. It really was show time.

Y/N appreciated how worried Harry was, nodding at him as he spoke and giving his hand a squeeze. Stepping out of the car, she was thankful that this time the paps actually had barriers they couldn’t cross. It took a lot of the anxiety away and well, she just stayed close to Harry and walked inside feeling like she really had accomplished something. The person working the door took her jacket, exposing her and all her beauty to everyone at the event. The silk of her dress made sure she felt the warmth of Harry’s touch even more so than usual, a smile spreading across her face as she looked up at him.

Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, “we’ll go find Jeff first, okay? If you get uncomfortable just let me know. I know we’re gonna be a bit much but I don’t want to overstep boundaries.” It was whispered to her.

Y/N’s face softened, noticing his worry yet again. “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind.” Y/N spoke softly back to him, “I trust you.” She really did. Harry was always extremely respectful and she knew that he was asking because he wanted to make sure. Despite them being together for, what? four months now, and the fact that this was a normal occurrence, she was happy to know he respected her the way he did.

Harry felt relief when she said she trusted him because honestly, her opinion did mean a lot to him. Even if he didn’t want to let himself accept it— she was important to him already. He wanted her to feel safe with him, always.

“That’s good.” He smiled down at her. Y/N looked so good and he was going to have a good time playing it up tonight. Especially because he was going to be able to drink and say whatever because it was ‘acting’ to Y/N and she didn’t know he meant probably everything she was going to hear. He escorted her to the bar, settling behind her as he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other rested on her tummy. She has this little tummy that Harry found incredibly enticing. He wasn’t sure why but he loved it. Always wanted to touch and kiss on it when he thought more and more of it.

“What do you want to drink, baby?” Harry spoke against her ear as the music was. A little loud. But his lips were close to her ear, making it feel a little more intimate.

Baby. God he really was starting off strong. Y/N couldn’t say she didn’t feel a little insecure as he put his hand on her tummy, always being cautious of it whenever she was wearing tight clothes. She knew it was actually normal and most girls had one, but something about being Harry Styles’ girlfriend made her feel like she shouldn’t have one. At least that’s what the media made her feel like.

“Vodka cranberry, make it a double” She told him, giving him a little smirk. “I can handle alcohol.” Y/N teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek just because she wanted to. She couldn’t resist. Plus, she was playing it up for all the workers too. Her kiss left a mark on Harry’s cheek and Y/N giggled a bit, “it looks cute, but here...” she said and gently wiped it off his cheek so that it wouldn’t be viable in the photos they were most likely set to take. It was an event after all. She wasn’t sure what it was for but Jeff would let them know as soon as they found him.

Ordering the drinks, Harry took her hand and laced it with his, pulling her back against him and swayed them a little bit. She obviously was caught off guard but the giggle was confirmation that she was okay with it, him humming the song in her ear while the bartender made their drinks.

“My girl can handle the drinks? I’d like to see that.” He teased. “Probably can drink me under that table, yeah? And sound well sexy doing it.” Oop. Admission of her voice being ‘sexy’ when she spoke it was accidental but he wasn’t going to take it back. It was. But now she had far more ammo against him. Y/N was obviously planning on doing just that, her evil little smirk up at him making him pout. “Oi, don’t tease me with it.” Harry whined. “I’m being nice tonight. Don’t be mean to me.” Irony, a little, but mostly because he didn’t want to be hard yet.

If only Harry knew how long Y/N had been waiting to hear him say things like that to her. If she hadn’t thought about it a thousand times before she’d definitely been thinking about it a thousand times more. Her heart was swelling, feeling extremely giddy just doing all these things with Harry. They were just talking and swaying. Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Sexy hmm?” Y/N smirked, “are you being nice tonight?” She asked knowing full well that was false. Harry loved teasing, he teased his fans like crazy so surely he’d tease her even more. “You play nice and I’ll play nice. Is that a deal?” God, she wanted him to destroy her. That look in his eyes, she could already feel the tingles. When their drinks were ready Y/N said a small thank you to the bartender, taking her drink in her hand and looking at Harry with his. “Cheers, to playing nice.” She smiled at him, knowing that it was officially game on from here on out.

It was then Harry knew that they both were in for it, because he was going to give in to his wants of touching her and she was seemingly all for it which was equally as dangerous. Getting to be this way was going to make it so he would push past things he probably shouldn’t. He toasted with her, taking his drink and sipping all the while watching her over the glass. Y/N was a minx. A little flirty minx who was going to make him lose his mind. They had to go find Jeff, so he took her hand again and spun her so she was facing the right direction.

“Let’s go find the boss.”

They walked closely, Harry's arm back around Y/N’s waist as he held her to his body. She felt good pressed up against him. He loved it, if he was being honest. Wanted to feel her front pressed up against him so he could feel her tits. He needed a good feel by the end of the night. Needed it.

Y/N liked this. She liked this a lot. She swayed her hips a bit more now, wanting Harry to feel what they were capable of. It was like she had this new power in her that she didn’t have before, all because of Harry. The whole acting thing was definitely helping as well, she could just play this character and exaggerated version of herself and get away with it. Harry seemed to be loving it a little bit too much for his own liking, she could sense it.

Jeff and Glenne were stood over in the vip section, chatting with a few other celebrity guests. Y/N forgot that that was also a thing. In her mind Harry wasn’t a celebrity, he had never been. He was just her idol that was hard to reach, the concept of him being a celebrity himself always weirder her out. Like whenever other people mentioned him she always forgot that they knew who he was. All eyes were on them. Literally everyone. Y/N kept herself calm and confident, acting as if she wasn’t phased by it at all though she was internally freaking out.

“Hi!” Y/N smiled as she gave Jeff and Glenne a hug, “you guys look great!” The gang was together again.

“About time you showed up!” Jeff punched Harry lightly in the arm. He could sense something was changing. Harry held on a bit tighter to her, and wasn’t consciously doing it.

“Oi, watch it. We just got some drinks. You know, little thing has Russian blood. Isn’t that right, Kiska?” Harry had googled a pet name’s in Russian and she was definitely a kitten, kiska, if you will. Coy and sly and utterly adorable, a little clumsy all in one. Pure and evil all the same. He could tell the Russian name caught her off guard. Oh, he was going to pay for that. She returned to his arms, and he decided to sit her on the bar stool and stand between her legs. For right now, this was good. He’d have a hand on her and look intimate while they talked.

Y/N looked at him with a shocked expression, raising her brow and giving him a look which said he would pay for that. He went home and looked it up, just to play with her emotions? Of course he did. The bastard. She took another sip of her drink and rolled her eyes, “Mister, just had to be fashionably late.” She told Jeff from her seat on the bar stool.

She was still quite tall in these shoes, probably the same height she would be if she was standing up. Harry felt more comfortable like this, clearly liking having power over her. They would see about that. “Хотел меня удивить?” Y/N spoke, setting her hand on his chest before picking up his cross necklace. “I said, you wanted to surprise me?” She smirked, looking him in the eyes. Two could play this game. The night just started and they were already pushing each other to the limit. They barely had any drinks in them but boy were they touchy feely. As a new couple should be. Y/N was positive that people were more shocked at the fact that Harry was showing any type of affection publicly. It was something he simply didn’t do.

It really wasn’t. Harry was the type to keep it private. But he liked being open and free with her. Even if it wasn’t ‘real’ as some would say— it sure as hell felt like it. He was thoroughly enjoying every bit, and it was translating well to people watching. He was positive that people were going to take photos, but he didn’t care. That was the point. Her leg catching over the back of his though, rubbing the back of his calf with her foot? She was giving it right back to him. And then the speaking in Russian, the one thing that really got him.

“Da, Kiska.” Yes, Kitten. Harry grinned, liking her way of playing back with him. The drink in his hand was gone, so he called for another one. He was going to drink and use that as an excuse even though he was sober at the moment. Yep.

Y/N was pulling all the stops, assuming that nothing would actually come of it but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The leg move was something she figured would give her the upper hand, clearly showing everyone that he was her territory. Maybe they were doing too much? But she didn’t really care, she only cared about what he thought.

“Осторожно.” Careful. She warned, knowing there was no translation needed. The tone and the word itself implied being careful, especially because he was playing with fire and he knew it. Y/N too had finished her drink, knowing Harry was about to go and get more. “Go, I’ll wait with Jeff.” She told him, wanting nothing more than to peck his lips in that moment but she couldn’t.

The look Jeff had on his face said it all, a laugh coming from him. He and Glenne were in the same position she and Harry were just in, but they were a bit less.... horny. Y/N blushed, shaking her head a little because she knew they were coming off strong but she wasn’t acting. She never was acting with him.

Harry grumbled as she sent him off to get drinks. He was having fun with her. They worked very well with their chemistry and he felt utterly enamored with her. After a few drinks it was going to get worse. Would he basically dry fuck her against the bar? Perhaps. He felt like he could right now if given the go ahead. He got her a double shot and made his the same as well, going back to the table. They were all laughing about something and she hadn’t paid him much attention, taking the glass and spreading her legs a bit again so he could stand there. Honestly! A good response for when he came over.

“I got you the same.” He spoke to her, voice a bit darker. “There are some people with their cells out taking photos too. I figured you knew though.” She was so good, learning to catch on quite easily. They could both feel cameras on them. Surely they’d make a pretty penny selling them or something. But after he finished that drink, he felt a slight buzz kick in. That made him more comfortable, holding on her waist and listening to her conversation. Wanting some of the attention back.

Y/N decided she’d play the game a bit more, making him work a bit to get the attention that she had been so good at giving him. Now that she knew her strengths she would play on them, forcing Harry to push harder than he was. She wanted to know what he wanted from her. The cool feeling of the glass between her legs and Harry’s looming figure sent a shock straight to her crotch, the slightly annoyed look in his eye making her smile smugly.

“Thank you, ziya.” She cooed, knowing if he had searched for Russian pet names he would have found ‘bunny’ too. “Are saying you want to give them a show then?” Y/N teased as she wrapped her lips around the straw of his drink and took a sip. It wasn’t meant to be as sexual as it ended up being, she kept eye contact but cut it short because they really were being a bit too wild.

The headlines would say, ‘Harry’s horny?’

Harry absolutely wanted to give them a show. Only the show he was thinking of was pulling her panties to the side and sliding into her cunt, taking her hard up against the bar. And he didn’t think that was quite what Jeff had meant by giving more affection.

“Come.” He stood them up and brought them over to a plush couch without saying anything to Jeff. He knew Harry wanted Y/N alone right now, and he didn’t need to ask. Plus, it would help if they were seen all on their own together. Only he sat with her next to him, quite close. His arm wrapped around her and he basically curled around her form, the hand holding his drink putting it down after he downed it again. Ignoring the burning in his throat, he took his cool hands and brushed them against her neck. The touch seemed to affect her, a sharp breath coming from her. “You’re playing games.” He mumbled, using his fingers to tuck the hair from her neck. “Naughty.”

“And you aren’t?” Y/N asked boldly, finding his eyes as they snapped up to look at her. If there was such a thing as eye fucking they were definitely doing it in that moment. They couldn’t be sat here for too long, no, they definitely needed to go dance or mingle or do something that wasn't in each other's space like this. But it was so hot. He was so close to her, his touch, his words. It was all proving to be too much. The Harry she had always imagined was coming out, fulfilling a lot of her fantasies that he didn’t even know she had. This was something she sat thinking about in her bedroom, sitting there rubbing her clit to the idea of Harry being a tease in public.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t, baby.” Harry shrugged. He was definitely playing and teasing. He needed to get her to it for a second so he had an excuse to get close enough to leave a mark. It was closer than he had gotten pulling her closer in the chair. Her neck was so deliciously bare. And he was feeling possessive right now with the way or her men saw her. She was beautiful and a little naive towards the way other men had been ogling her tonight. “Was gonna suggest ...a mark.” He proposed. “Righhhhht here.” He ran his finger over the exposed flesh that would show his mark if she let him. “I think you’d like that.” He was pretty sure the easiest way to do it would be on the dance floor. “Can let people see you’ve been marked. Just gotta get up and go dance for a little bit. It’ll feel nice.” He was driving her absolutely mad and he knew it too. The way he spoke to her and the way he was touching her, it felt far more intimate than anything else she’d ever felt. This couldn’t be fake, she wouldn’t believe what he said if he tried to deny it. It wasn’t the alcohol either.

“I think I’d like that too..” Y/N responded, feeling her voice go a little quite towards the end. It would feel nice, having his lips on her neck and marking her as his. The way he was asking for permission though she had already given him free reign to do whatever he wanted. It was all a bit much. “Come on.” She said, getting up and downing her drink before taking his hand and guiding him towards the dance floor. The dance floor was quite busy, now a good few hours into the event. They had arrived a bit late anyway so the party was in full swing. Y/N was quite a good dancer and she knew that.

Harry wasn’t a bad dancer. Not necessarily skilled though, so he had a feeling Y/N would be doing the talking if they had to truly dance. At the moment though, it seemed as everyone was doing their own things, which felt good. He stayed towards the edge of the dance floor though, taking her hand and pulling her into him. His hand was on her waist and she looked up at him with those eyes he’d been dreaming of and he felt like a crazy person for not having had her already. She was the ideal person to have sex with, he thinks. The perfect mix of dirty and innocent and he hadn’t even found out how bad she could be. He had a feeling he would be finding out rather soon.

“Come.” He pulled her to be pressed against his body, one hand on her and the other holding her own. “You’re going to kill me, sweetness.” He muttered quietly. “Swear to god. You’ve been so naughty. And you know it.”

Y/N squeaked a bit as he pulled her against him, relaxing into his touch after a few seconds. It still made her dizzy. The whole being a fan thing didn’t help, it really didn’t help. She was already into him and now he was just playing it up and she felt like she would pass out. She moved her hips to the beat, grinding on him without hesitation. What? If they were dancing, they were dancing like everyone else was.

“I’ve only been as naughty as you.” She said as a matter of factly, “but you like that, don’t you?” The alcohol started to work in her system convincing her to just say what was on her mind. Four shots of vodka all hitting her system at once definitely did the trick. There was nothing more she wanted to do than kiss him. She just wanted to sit him down and make out with him. Straddle his hips, grab his hair and just kiss him. They’d been ‘dating’ for four months and no one had seen them publicly kiss yet, but Y/N decided she’d make it her mission for him to kiss her tonight. If not now then never.

“I can’t say I mind.” Harry breathed. God, Y/N was grinding on him. She knew how to move and she was going to get him all worked up. Whatever photos anyone took would potentially be very sexually charged because his hand did drop lower, holding her hip a bit tighter. Her grinding slowed a bit and he wanted to groan. Y/N looked very happy. Very pleased to be making him feel like this. There was no way that she’d give up now. It seemed to be her goal to push his buttons. “I’m just trying to figure out just how naughty you are.” He had his face closer, mouth approaching her ear. “Because I can tell what you’re doing. And I’ll let you know, it’ll work. You’ll get what you want from me. You’re pushing me just hard enough.”

Everything about their interaction screamed sexual tension. The rubber band would snap soon and Y/N wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet. She felt high on the feeling, knowing that all she needed was a little push and she’d cave. Self control was important right now because as much as they were enjoying this moment, they were technically working.

“Mmm keep trying then.” She whispered in his ear, lips brushing against his lobe ever so slightly. Y/N wanted to move lower and kiss at his neck, but she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing more. Harry seemed to be on board and that was something that she would run with. “What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked, genuinely pushing every button that she could just for the sake of it. Maybe he’d actually do something. It was his image after all, if there was anything he wanted to do or didn’t want to do, she wanted to make sure that it was his decision. She didn’t want to over step.

“To get me to break.” Harry muttered. This time, he pressed a kiss under her ear. Here it goes. He knew that there was no going back now. Now when Y/N was rubbing up on him and he had her where he wanted her. “You want me to touch. And you’re getting that.” Harry gave another kiss a spot lower. “And I’m going to give you a mark on your neck. People are going to see it, yeah? See photos of me making it. And you know it’ll feel really good.” His mouth was rubbing against her skin with every word, getting lower so he could find the spot. “Trying to push me. Being a naughty girl and getting me to do things I shouldn’t.” Like, fucking her raw and senseless. Harry was coming in short when it came to thread holding his resistance. Y/N may know that now. However he had found the spot he wanted to mark— so he began to kiss on it, nipping at the skin. She absolutely melted into him, the sweet little gasp making his cock twitch in interest.

Y/N closed her eyes the second his teeth touched her neck. It was going to be hard to dance as if this had happened before, as if this wasn’t the first time they were interacting in a sexual way. People knew Harry was a horny bastard, talking about how his new album was about sex and being sad. They’d assume he already fucked her. She wishes that was true.

“But it’s not my fault, is it?” Y/N nearly moaned, “you want it as badly as I do.” She added, feeling her breath hitch as he began to kiss and nip at the sensitive part of her neck. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me act naughty.” Y/N confirmed, a gasp following her statement. Y/N couldn’t take this. He was doing things to her that she never thought were possible, endorphins flooding her body and making her feel like she was floating. She had melted into him completely, still dancing with him because she couldn’t just not move. “Fuck that feels good..” She whispered in his ear, a small moan escaping just for him to hear.

Harry’s arm held her tighter, keeping her up in a good position as he continued his assault on her perfect neck. “What if I want to see that?” He asked. His fatal mistake because he knew far too well that Y/N would show him. She would do as he asked and kill him. That was the scary thing and he wanted it. He didn’t give her time to answer though, beginning to suck on her neck. It was light at first, but continued on. Getting a bit harder. The music covered it, but he heard a whimper come from her as he sucked over the sensitive skin and scraped over it lightly with his teeth. It felt too quick. He had given her one and didn’t want to make it truly hurt, so he moved to right under her ear and began to nip at it. “Mm. Maybe two. I think that’s a better idea.” He confirmed with her, feeling her nod hurriedly. His hands had her hips and pulled her up against him, and he knew that Y/N was feeling just as good about it as he was. “Shh, baby. Gonna make them think I have my hand under your dress.”

He gave Y/N the answer she had been waiting for. He had wanted to see her naughty side, wanted to see her unravel completely for him and show him just how bratty she could be. Y/N was sure he wanted it, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to do that here. Not when everyone was watching. He knew that as well. Y/N really has been deprived of touch and affection, simple love bites were practically making her fly off the rocker. Maybe it was because Harry was the one giving them to her, but she really needed him to stop or she would lose it.

“If you don’t stop i’ll have to take you up on that offer.” Y/N told him, a whimper still present in her voice. She moved a hand up to his hair, tugging at it hard enough to get him to pull off her neck. “You have to stop, I’ll lose it..” She told him genuinely. It was a bit embarrassing to say, but she’d rather not make a fool of herself in public from a few hickeys.

Ha. Harry had won this round. Driving her crazy. The way she had said it though... saying she had wanted his hand under her dress... he was tempted.

“M’sorry, Kiska.” He promised, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t sorry at all. He was thriving off of this energy and was dying to at least get his mouth on her. “If I could get away with my hand under your dress.. it would be there.” He could tell she wanted it too. The whimper of disappointment she let out. God, he wanted to destroy her. “What would you have done if I kept going?” They continue to dance, Harry's lips a bit damp with his own spit from kissing over and sucking on her neck. Their dancing had an even rhythm now, but he wanted to know what she thinks would have happened if he had continued on. Y/N was flushed and the marks were beginning to get darker. “What about it makes you crazy? Did you like the little bit of pain? How it’s a little tender? I want to know what you’re thinking.” He lifted a hand and ran his thumb over one of the marks and smirked when she jolted but her eyes were darker.

Y/N knew she had lost but she didn’t care, she really couldn’t take it. Her body was practically shaking with desire, never having been so turned on in her life. Y/N felt her like her body was on fire. Sure, their dancing was sexually charged and the neck kissing was as well, but to an outsider that’s all it was. They didn’t know what was actually happening.

“I—I wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret.” Y/N told him, “it’d be too obvious, we’d have to leave.” That was true. Her knees would have buckled and she would have forced him to take them home. It wasn’t acting, they both knew that now. Would they speak on it again? No. “The pain.” She told him hesitantly, “I like the pain and the thrill of people watching.” There it was, the first little insight on how naughty she really was. He had asked to know after all. “It’s been a while— it’s a lot.” Y/N added wanting him to know that she really had been deprived of all the good things. “I think we need another drink.”

Harry was living for it. He truly was. Y/N was flustered and he was hot and bothered and now had 2 different marks on her neck. This was exactly the situation he originally had been trying to avoid but now was actively pursuing.

“Two double shots.” When they’d got to the bar again, he had his hands on her. It was like he couldn’t let go. Standing behind her, he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck and kissed both of the marks before smirking and hiding again. He was being a tease and going to drive Y/N mad and he knew it but in all honesty, it was fun. Like a game. “Just don’t speak Russian. Cause then I’ll be forced to do things that aren’t very public appropriate and there’s tons of cameras everywhere.”

Hopefully the drink would cool Y/N down, her head was spinning and Harry wasn’t helping one bit. Her breath hitched a little as he pressed kisses to the marks. “Dick.” She muttered, lifting her hand up to play with his hair. She scratched his scalp a little bit as he hid into her neck, humming softly to herself. “Maybe I should and not let you touch me.” Y/N teased, “Maybe you’ll play nice then.” Of course she wasn’t going to let that happen. She loved his touch far too much though she also loved the idea of teasing him and getting her revenge. She was still shook up from their little stunt earlier and wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore teasing. Especially if they went home and didn’t do anything. “Cause you can’t keep working me up like this and not fuck me sore.” Y/N whispered in his ear, being completely serious. If he kept this up and they went home and he did nothing she’d be extremely moody and pissy.

Harry was a little surprised with her crassness. Truly, he hadn’t expected her to come out and say it. That she wanted to be fucked hard. But god, he could do it. He could very well run in to her and just bend her over any surface and take her. Their chemistry was off the charts and he had a feeling other people could see it. He knew too well that it was wrong of him. But his body didn’t care.

“Is that what you want?” He questioned, eyes blown with lust. She was giving him such a time. “Wow.. you seem so innocent, but you’re here talking about being fucked sore. Have you ever been properly fucked, Kiska?” His voice dropped to a growl, moving them closer to the bar. To any onlooker, it just looked like he was hiding his face against her but he was really giving his little fake lover a run for her money. “Been pounded away until you can’t breathe? Because you seem so sweet. But I can see now that you’re a dirty little girl and you’re a tease. Isn’t quite fair to me.” He scolded, his hand slipping to her thigh for a moment before he rested his chin on her shoulder and sent a charming smile to the bartender.

Y/N bit her lip, wanting so desperately to moan at how dirty and rough his voice sounded. “Yes, it’s what I want...” She told him honestly, deciding if she was going to spill any night it could be tonight where she could pretend she was more drunk than she was. She wasn’t anywhere near drunk right now though. The second he asked if she’d ever been properly fucked is when she lost it, knowing she needed him desperately and needed him now. But they had to be here until Jeff told them they could leave. “I haven’t, I’ve been so deprived.” She whimpered into his ear, “could you help me, daddy?” It was a stab in the dark seeing if he liked being called daddy, but she had seen a video of him on tour saying ‘yes daddy I will’ which proved to her that he may in fact enjoy being called daddy. But who really knew? She was about to find out.

Oh god. Oh god damn it. Harry was going to die. He was sure of it. She had tapped into one of his kinks that he was sure probably wasn’t a secret but... fuck. Y/N had sounded so pretty with her whimpers and then asking him to help her? That she hadn’t been fucked right?

“Fuck.” Harry groaned against her skin. “I want to. Shit, baby. You’re dirty, I love it.” He pressed himself against her ass and let her feel his cock that was getting harder at her teasing. And the little minx pressed back against it. He couldn’t touch her here, but he could tease and talk to her with his cock against her ass and work her up. He pulled her closer and swayed them slightly, giving himself a bit of friction. “You wore this to tease me.” Harry's voice was deep, a little raspy. “Wore it to drive me crazy and you knew it would.”

Ha. Y/N won this round. Noticing how he was slowly starting to crack, slowly giving into her teasing and her pleading. The feeling of his semi hard cock rubbing against her was also a confirmation that she was doing something right, smirking to herself as she pushed back against him a little bit.

“Of course I did.” She hummed, “thought it's about time I gave you no option but to give in. Those tops I wear didn’t quite do the trick, but this....” Y/N was very confident now that she knew it was working, needy, but confident. She just knew how to play up on the whiney neediness and the sexy neediness at the right times. Harry was lapping it up too. They both knew they’d go to his and have mind blowing sex, four months of pent up frustration sex. It was just a matter of when they would do so. Jeff really was the one who was going to give the go ahead and well, Harry was most likely going to keep teasing the both of them.

“Calculated little thing. Know how to get your way, hm.” Y/N was proving to be a force to be reckoned with. And Harry couldn’t even be upset over it because he was bringing this upon himself. He truly was. This woman was giving him a run for his damn money. “You said you liked the thrill of people watching, baby?” He asked. “S’it getting you off? All these people around and you’ve got my cock up against this gorgeous ass? And getting all wet inside those panties?” He knew she had to be soaked. “You’re probably so wet. A little bit sticky too, hm? Gonna start getting on your thighs. Wouldn’t be surprised now if you liked that. Liked getting all worked up and having no one know what I’m telling you.”

Y/N rubbed back against him anytime she felt like she wanted to moan, gripping at his arm that was around her waist. God she could kill him but she wasn’t going to let him get the best of her, she could control herself for a little while longer. If it was promising enough.

“You have no idea.” She simply responded, knowing it answered all of the above. Yes, it did thrill her, it did get her off, it was getting her wet inside her panties and he had no idea just how much. If he really wanted to, he could have a feel, she was sure if he peeled off her underwear there would even be a trail of wetness that pulled with it like a strand of spit. Yes, she was that fucking wet. “You better fuck me real good tonight, daddy... Я с ума сойду у..” She whispered in his ear, adding the ‘or I’ll lose my mind’ in Russian just for added effect. That should do the trick.

“Fuck..” Harry pressed her up against the bar. it was crowded enough that he could sneak a hand between her thighs, and as soon as he got under the dress he could feel the soaked and sticky panties. “My fucking god... you’re really soaked through.” He hissed, kissing her cheek a few times and smiled down at her. Harry pressed his fingers harder against her and his arm around her waist tightened, her knees weakening in his hold. Finding her clit, he pressed and rubbed a few times, sighing in pleasure when her hips bucked a little bit. Luckily there were people behind them talking, and no one was paying attention. His head was hidden and it was hard to tell who ended and who began. “Soaked little princess. Poor pussy... needs some attention.” He purred, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. “I shouldn’t be touching you at all, Kiska. Not at all. But you’ve been teasing me, and talking to me in that sexy little voice, you’re killing me.”

Y/N swore she stopped breathing, heart skipped a beat. Harry Styles was touching her fucking pussy. How on earth did she end up here? Y/N almost lost it, nearly moaned out loud with the poor bartender standing right there. Y/N sipped on her drink, using it to stifle the moans and whimpers that were threatening to escape. Her knees buckled, losing balance as his fingers started working on her clit through her panties. She sighed in pleasure, playing it off as if she was just sighing but really she was dying. “Please...” She begged, biting down on her lip, “you’re killing me.” If he was going to keep doing this she would full on cum in public and she wasn’t exactly ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could hide that, holy fuck it was already overwhelming. She wished they were alone. “Funny.... you touched my clit before kissing me.”

“Mm. I know that once I start m’not gonna stop.” And that was the truth. The man knew that he would get one taste of her cherry mouth? He would want to sip on it for a while. And plus... it was less obvious. But he took his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth and sucking the slick arousal off. It was sweet. Beautiful. The best he had ever tasted— and Harry did like to eat pussy, so that was saying a lot.

“What’s stopping you? It will feel good.” Y/N repeated his words from earlier in the night, hoping he’d listen. She thought she’d pass out just then, a shiver ran down her spine at the sight of him sucking her wetness of his fingers. The man really wanted to end her didn’t he? The look of pure enjoyment on his face, it should be illegal.

“So good. But... turn.” He instructed, cupping the side of her face with the clean hand. “You’re being very good now. So..” Harry murmured, leaning down and connecting their lips. And he swore, he completely lost his mind. It was like that instant connection just made sense. Being like this with her, the kiss, it had him feeling. Truly. He was incredibly shocked but he continued the kiss. It wasn’t too dirty— it was relatively soft considering he was just rubbing her cunt moments ago. But it was delicious.

Good god. Y/N’d never felt this before. A true surge of electricity bolted through her, the kiss passionate but not too off putting. It was just a kiss two people that really liked each other would share. Y/N knew people were taking photos, it was as if she could feel people’s eyes on them. The gasps from around them also sort of helped. She just let one of her hands wrap around his wrist while the other gripped onto the lapel of his jacket. She could get lost doing this all day. Y/N hoped they would get to do this freely from now on, she wasn’t sure she could ever go without kissing him again.

Harry couldn’t care less about the people taking photos. His hands held her soft little face and their lips pulled apart only for him to go back— this time for tiny little pecks to make her giggle. It was cute. He wanted her to feel that way when he kissed her.

Y/N did giggle at the pecks that he left on her lips, scrunching her nose a little bit because she just couldn’t believe that she was in fact kissing Harry Styles. This was truly a dream come true, unfortunately she’d sound like a nutter if she told him that.

“S’good.” Harry said when he pulled apart for real, placing one last kiss to her forehead. “Want to leave, Kiska?” Harry wanted to get her alone. Get her in his damn lap. The moment the car pulled away from the club he would have his hand back up her dress. He was positive Y/N knew the same. He needed to get inside of her. Have this one night. Maybe it would get his need for her out of his system. Sure— he didn’t think so, but he was hoping so that his heart wouldn’t be in danger. He didn’t realize his heart was already right in the palm of her hand and she had the power to crush it into powder.

“Can we?” Y/N asked softly, eyes wide and soft. Ready to submit and she knew that he knew. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him for a moment before finishing her drink and walking with him towards where Jeff was to bid him and Glenne a good night. They probably would get scolded on a normal night, but they had made quite the show. They did more than enough, too enamored with each other to even think to speak to anyone else. Jeff knew that they were both very much into each other and laughed because they were both in denial. Y/N less so.

“Gonna have a lot of cameras outside. Just be a good girl for me, yeah? Gotta behave until we pull away.” Harry spoke to her as he helped her with her jacket, moving her hair out of the way. It was dumb to be so proud of a mark on her neck, but he had been aware of how guys looked at her. Aware that she wasn’t. And then people would know, they’d be so aware that Y/N was his pretty girl. Confirm that relationship. Opening the door, he had a tight grip on her waist as he led her out of the club. The questions were yelled out but he focused on getting her to the car. It took a minute, but he opened the back of the door and picked her up with her up by the waist once again. She moved over, and Harry got in behind her.

“My place, please.” He called to the driver before shutting the partition. Once it was closed, and they began to drive away? Harry turned right back to her. “You... make me lose control.” He growled, pulling her into his lap. Her hips were bigger and there was that tiny little belly that he liked, but his hands gravitated towards her ass. Gripping it tightly with one hand, the other came up to her throat. Her gasp had him twitching in his pants. Y/N seemed to love it.

Y/N squeaked as he pulled her into his lap, her dress riding up significantly. She set her hands on his shoulders to stabilize herself, moving them down to his chest once she felt comfortable. The hand on her throat though, that was the best surprise of the night.

“Mmm.” She whimpered, looking down at him with a smile. Y/N was a kinky bitch. No man had ever really understood that. She was never able to play up her sexuality in bed, never able to truly let loose and do whatever she wanted because the guys never knew how to properly dominate her. But Harry knew, she knew he would. “That’s a good thing.” She teased, “need to loosen up, rockstar.”

Harry was happy. She was taking to it easily, and that only added to his arousal. Y/N was what he wanted in bed. Seemingly submissive but a little bit of a brat. So far she had been lippy but he loved it.

“Do I?” He murmured. “I can think of a few ways to help me relax.” His mouth moves forward to her chest, kissing the swells of her tits. “These... these fucking tits.” It was a hiss, licking over between them before he switched to the other side. “You know how much I love them.” He needed to have a good taste. It was necessary. “And you’ve got them up on display, wanting for me to touch them, hm?” He questioned. “Do you know how many times I’ve been thinking about them covered in cum? Hm?”

“You like them, don’t you daddy?” Y/N cooed, watching as he went to kiss at her soft pillowy breasts. “Had them out just for you...” She added because she really did. No one else mattered right now. But, he’d.... thought about her tits? His cum on her tits? Multiple times? She must be dreaming. Sure, she’s been masturbating to the thought of him since she was 13, but to think he was jerking off to the thought of her? It made her moan out loud. “It’d look so pretty.”

“You... are absolutely sinful.” Harry’s mouth closed in near her covered nipple, and looked up at her. “Mmm. Had them out for me? What a great, sweet girl.” Harry's head was going into overdrive because he wanted to be touching any inch he could of her. Wanted to touch and lick her body over and over again and drive his cock in deep. “Said that you’ve never been fucked properly before... s’so sad, baby. Isn’t it? Need to have a good cock inside of you. Do you like it rough?” He questioned, looking up at her honey eyes. “Like it hard? Or do you want it soft?” He wanted to make it good for both of them, so he asked the question even though he was fairly certain of the answer.

“Only for you...” She told him, knowing she had never been this sinful in her life. Only in her mind in the fantasies that he lived in. Y/N let out a moan, nodding her head at his question. “N—no never...” She answered honestly, thinking about how she liked it. She liked it rough but liked it soft as well, figuring that whatever it was Harry decided to do she’d love it because it was Harry and his glorious cock that she felt bulking up against her crotch.

Y/N loved how vocal he was, how he talked to her through every little action. It’s almost as if he wanted her to fumble as he pleasured her. Y/N didn’t mind though, she thought she sounded quite hot when she was being pleasured. Her previous encounters loved phone sex with her. Her hand went to the back of his head, tugging at his hair like she knew he liked as his plump strawberry lips wrapped around her nipple. He looked so fucking pretty like that.

“I like it rough mostly, but some soft bits are nice... mix it up.” She told him, “just use me... I like it deep. I want to feel you in my belly.”

His sweet girl. This innocent thing was asking Harry to use her. She was dirty in ways that he knew a lot of other people weren’t. Sure, they talked a good game but when it came down to it, they couldn’t take it. But Y/N? She was sitting in his lap with his hand on her throat and ass and asked him to use her. That, was exactly what she wanted. He could tell by her face. That was the hottest thing. She wanted to be his baby, but his baby slut. He loved it. Y/N was surprising him at every turn. Sure, he had expected a little kinky from how she had been acting but... she turned around and used daddy, had let him play with her cunt under a bar, all of it and that was hot.

“Deep in that precious belly, hm? Bury myself in your little cunt and make you take it, s’that it, my girl?” Harry kept calling her his. Because in the back of his mind, she was. Y/N had been his since that first day, even though he would keep denying it.

“Yes, please, daddy...” Y/N nodded in response, truly looking so bloody happy to be in this position. They’d be at his soon and she would get her relief soon enough. She felt like she had proven herself to be a good girl and that he wouldn’t tease her as much when they got inside. “Told you I was naughty...” Y/N reminded him, “but it’s just the way you like it.” She smirked and moved her hips forward to add a little pressure to his cock. “And I guarantee I’m the naughtiest you’ll ever have.” It was a bold statement but she was positive it was true. All she wanted was for him to be pleased.

Y/N felt the car come to a stop and was slightly upset that their little car journey was over, but even more excited to get inside and see what exactly he had planned for the two of them. Y/N loved how dominant Harry had proven to be, thoroughly enjoying pleasuring her as well as himself. She was positive she’d never feel this amazing in her life.

Harry was looking forward to seeing Y/N to ruin him. He wanted to make her feel good but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to get this out of his head every time he saw her.

Grabbing her little bag, he tipped the driver handsomely before scrambling into the house. He needed this and wanted it and didn’t want to waste a single damn second. Y/N was eager too, Harry snickering as she basically tugged him up to his front door. They couldn’t do anything out here— but as soon as he got inside?

He slammed the door shut and pressed her against it, mouth on hers yet again again. Harry found that it was one of his new favorite places. The taste and the warm feeling... he loved it so much. Her tongue ran across his lips and into his mouth and he was hooked. Shoving their jackets off, he grabbed hold of her and lifted her with ease, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Gonna wreck you, baby. Make you cum so hard that you can’t fucking breathe.” He hadn’t tried overstimulation before but he just as well may with her. She overwhelmed him quite a bit.

Y/N groaned against his mouth, eagerly moving to push his jacket off of him just as he pushed hers off. Her arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders as he lifted her, the kiss only becoming that much more intense when his hands landed on her ass. She swore it was one of her favorite feelings.

“Ugh, yes, daddy PLEASE!” She moaned out, desperate to get this dress off and to get him naked as well. Y/N only had a small thong underneath, having forgone a bra for the sake of the dress. It was tight enough that it kept them in place. Her dream was coming to life and she would make damn sure to make the best of it. Y/N’s moved to kiss from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, finding a soft spot right below his jawline on his neck. She decided to return the favor from earlier, living a hickey of her own there. Hopefully he didn’t mind. “Can’t wait for you to fill me..” she whispered in his ear. “Я хочу тебя.” A simple, I want you in Russian just to get him going. “I want you so bad..”

It was the Russian that had Harry’s blood hot. He wanted to hear her speak it all the time. What if they had kids? She could teach them— Wait.

Fuck. That was a weird fucking thought and he had to shake himself out of it. There wouldn’t be kids. The hell was wrong with him? It had to be the power of her pussy— but he hadn’t even been inside yet.

“Gotta get you naked.” Harry needed her naked and wet and ready for him. That was the goal, anyways. To have this girl spread out and eager to be taking his cock. Y/N was telling him that she couldn’t wait so he held her to him, walking towards his room. They wouldn’t be leaving that bed, unless it was to fuck against a wall or in the bathroom. His shoes were kicked off as he stepped in, nearly blind because they were kissing again and Y/Ns hands were all over his hair, it was amazing. Truly. His cock ached and was begging to be inside of her but every second of this was incredible to him.

Once Harry placed her on the bed Y/N sat up, unzipping her dress and lifting it up above her head quickly, but careful as to not rip it. She really liked that dress. It was at this point that Y/N was eye level with his cock, allowing her hands to travel to the loops in his pants, pulling him closer to her.

“Fuck me...” She mumbled, one of her hands palming over his aching cock. She unzipped them and pulled ever so slightly until they pooled at his ankles, eyes still very much focused on his cock. Y/N looked up at him, a devilish look in her eyes as she wanted for some direction. She admittedly got distracted but it was because this was the cock she had been dreaming about, the cock she imagined filling her mouth and her cunt and even her ass. “You’re so big daddy, so handsome...” She commented, pressing a kiss to his clothes cock and smiling to herself. She was pushing buttons.

There was something so incredibly hot to Harry about her sitting on his bed, eye level with his cock. She had just instinctually gone to it, kissing on it... that was the hottest thing. Being so genuinely into him and wanting to touch. There had been many a time now these past few months and he had thought about this view. However now he was in full view of her tits and her messy hair, her looking up with those eyes at him. He was a mess.

“Yeah? Thank you, baby.” He murmured. “Why don’t you take it out, hm... suck a little bit. And then I want to have my turn.” He was thirsting for her cunt. Literally. He just wanted to kiss and suck and lick her sweet pussy until she came over and over again. He wanted her to feel how good it was to have her cunt properly worshipped. Y/N was a good girl, but she was so bad. He had a feeling she would utterly love that.

Y/N smiled as he gave her the go ahead, tugging on his shirt and muttering a small “off” because she wanted to see his perfectly toned torso and chest. Harry was really her version of a perfect man, everything about him made her crazy and she couldn’t stop herself. Not now, not anymore. This was raw and real. Y/N gently pulled his cock out from his boxer briefs, pushing them down all the way while she leaned in and spat all over his cock. Y/N locked her eyes with his, letting the spit travel down his cock while she went to lick from the base to the top. She let her hand spread the sloppy mess that she made, pumping at the base while her lips wrapped around the lip and began sucking.

The amount of times she had thought about this, the amount of times he imagined hearing him moan for her and pull her hair. Just feeling the weight of his cock on her tongue, it was everything she desired. Y/N took more of him into her mouth once she felt comfortable, moaning against him a bit because she knew it would feel good.

Holy shit. Harry had expected her to be eager, a little dirty— but she may be right. It’s probably that Y/N was going to be the dirtiest girl he’s ever been with. It was evident by how she spit on his cock, looking right up at him as she made a mess. Something Harry fucking loved. Other partners didn’t love a mess but he did. In his opinion, it was hotter. More passionate. A good spit or cum all over was good. Arousing. And Y/N was on her knees, licking over his cock and pumping her hand at the bottom. Harry was big, but Y/N took it like a fucking champion. His hand gathered her hair in his fist. Gently yanking on it to show he had control before allowing her to continue. And then she began to moan with his cock in her mouth, bobbing her head up and down— it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“God, yes. Keep sucking my cock like that— fucccck. That’s a girl.” He praised, watching her closely. “Messy little girl. You like it messy, huh? Like getting daddy’s cock all wet? Good job. Doing just what I asked.”

Y/N was determined and dedicated to making him feel good, making it very clear with the way she was working her mouth over his cock like he was a lollipop of sorts. She hummed in response, not wanting to pull off because he seemed to really like what she was doing. Y/N kept eye contact as she tried to take more and more of him into her mouth, giving him full control over her with his hand in her hair. She did say she wanted him to use her so it really was free reign. They had all night to play around with each other, but she could already tell she had left a damp spot on his bed with how increasingly wet she was getting from watching him. The way his face contorted in pleasure, his gritty voice. She was thoroughly enjoying every second and she wouldn’t stop unless he told her to.

Harry was in love with her mouth. He wanted it around him 24/7. Harry was also an incredibly sexual person with a filthy, kinky mind. “Can imagine you warming my cock just like this while I take some calls. Would be very nice, wouldn’t it, Y/N?” He grabbed her hair tighter and began to pump in and out of her mouth. When he first met her he hadn’t ever imagined actually being able to fuck her mouth. But the girl gave over control, looking up with watery eyes as he took over. She could handle a little deeper. So he did just that, hissing when her throat tightened a bit around his Fock before pulling out. She sputtered but then— the slut whined. “Even after gagging on my cock, you’re still whining to have it back in your mouth? Fuck. You’re a cockslut, Baby. Can't believe this.” He gave it back and immediately had that suction again, her every suck in time with how he thrusted into the mouth. Every so often he would get just deep enough to make her gag and repeated the process, watching as she began to drool on him. “Shit— so messy. Such a messy little whore. Drool all over your chin and you’re still eager for my cock.” He was in awe. Y/N was something he had dreamed of and she only kept getting better.

Y/N felt smug. Harry was so shocked every time she whined for his cock and she wondered what I’m earth those other girls were doing. To Y/N, it wasn’t good sex unless she was fully letting go and doing everything her heart desired to and with her partner. Y/N pulled off of him hesitantly, licking up and down his cock as she caught her breath and then spoke.

“Can I make you cum like this daddy?” Her voice low and hoarse, “think you’ll be able to go again if I do?” She asked, just wanting to make sure though she was positive he would. Harry seemed like a kinky bastard and she wanted to make him cum as many times as she possibly could tonight. Her pussy was fucking aching. She was practically bouncing against the bed trying to get some friction. She whined a little bit, not wanting to full on ask because she was too busy servicing his cock, but she wanted it... bad.

“Yes— yeah, I can cum again for you.” Harry could. If it was Y/N? He knew that he’d be able to give her anything she wanted as long as she gave him those eyes and that little pout. He was so whipped already and he was positive that she was going to turn his life upside down. It was too late to stop it. “Go ahead. Make me cum, then.” He coaxed. “Want it in your mouth and on your tits. I know you can do that for me. You’ve been such a slutty girl, and you’ll like being covered in daddy’s cum.”

That seemed to set Y/N off. Her mouth was on his cock and sucking hard, hand going quickly over it. Harry’s mouth opened and a groan left him, overtaken with pleasure. It was no doubt he was going to cum quickly. It had been a while since he had fucked anyone and Y/N had some spell over him. He didn’t have to say much else, Y/N returned her mouth on to him and let her hand work the rest that she couldn’t reach. She remembered all the spots that set Harry off and paid close attention to them, sucking harder and moving at a quicker pace than before. Y/N moaned against him, as if begging him to cum for her. She wanted to taste him, wanted to see him in that wonderful state of bliss. She had already moved past thinking that she wasn’t attractive to him, clearly she was doing things to him and it boosted her ego far more than should be allowed. When she felt his muscles start to tighten she continued her actions, moaning against him and keeping at her actions waiting for him to blow his load. It was glorious. The sound that came from his mouth, the way he filled her mouth. She pulled off of him and let some drip down her chin, making him blow the rest of her load on her chest.

“That’s it daddy, cum all over me..”

Harry hadn't cum that hard in a long time. Maybe ever because his toes felt a little numb, his mouth open and his cock actually throbbing with the arousal. His load had to have been huge, considering he hadn’t cum like this in a long time. She let half of it in her mouth, and then opened it and let it drool down her chin— which was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. Her hand continued to work his cock as he covered her tits in ribbons of cum. There was nothing quite like the sight of her covered in it. Once he had calmed slightly, he lifted her up and tilted her head back, immediately going forward her mouth. Some guys refused to kiss their significant others when they’d gone down on them— but the messy state of her mouth had him beyond horny. Y/N responder with a mewl and Harry's hand went directly to her pussy.

“Down on the bed.” The mix of her spit and cum strung between both of their lips. “Spread your thighs. I want to lick you out.”

Y/N moaned against his mouth, eagerly moving back on to the bed. She had been waiting for him to touch her like this since the beginning of the night. She had a little taste of it at the bar but this? This was a whole other animal she swore she was absolutely not ready for. She was extremely sensitive to touch, it had been a really long time since anyone had slept with her and she truly forgot what it felt like. His warm ring clad hands on her caused goosebumps to spread all over her body, she was very much aroused. Harry nestled himself in between her legs, her heart pounding so hard she swore it would fly out of her chest. He hadn’t even done anything and she was already whimpering, pussy throbbing just from the sight. When you’ve been thinking about it for as long as she had, you would receive similar reactions. She convinced herself that she psychologically wired her brain to associate Harry with orgasms and that’s why it was affecting her like this.

Harry groaned. She had soaked through the thong. It was nearly see through, the pink tiny thing. He decided to lick right over it as a tease, and lottle Y/N jolted on the bed. He took hold of her by the apex of her thighs and held her down, swiping his tongue over the sticky fabric again.

“Hm.. what have we got?” He purred up at her. “A wet little pussy, huh?” He held her body to the bed, moving one arm now to stroke over her tummy. He moved up and kissed over her mound, over to her belly button and covered the surrounding areas with kisses. “Love this.” He had an attraction to it that he couldn’t quite explain. He just thrives off of seeing it. And now he would have to remember every single time to give it some love. But right now he needed some pussy, and that’s what he was going to get. He began to peel the panties off, growling in pleasure when he sat they were quite literally stuck to her. Fuck. He had done that, and he was proud of it. Her inner thighs were wet too, and Harry felt the heat of his body rise even more. “Christ, pet. You’re so wet...” He whispered. “Soaked through the panties... look at this. They’re stuck to you.” He said in awe. He gently peeled it back further, watching the arousal string on them. He was keeping these. “These are mine.” He took them and placed them on his night stand before taking a look. He didn’t waste much more time before leaning down, and taking one broad, long lick.

Y/N blushed, heat rushing to her face and chest as he observed her body. She was expecting to feel shy and embarrassed, but it was quite the opposite really. It was something she had always worried about, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was absolutely fucking perfect. A small giggle left her mouth at his astonishment, not realizing just how wet she actually was.

“Oh my god.” She moved her hands to cover her face, shaking her head before moving her hands so she could sit up a bit and lean on her elbows to watch him. She wasn’t sure how long that would last but she would try. The moan that left her was pornographic. Her whole body twitched at the feeling, pleasure spreading through her body already. She really was sensitive. “Harry..” She whimpered, looking down at him and seeing his darker green eyes flash up to look at her. “That feels... so good.”

Harry knew now that he was going to be obsessed with her pussy. Not only did it taste amazing but it felt so good on his tongue. Warm and soft, he didn’t mind the slick all over his chin as he ran his tongue up and down the little slit. Y/N was giving him everything.

“So sweet, princess. Taste so fucking good.” He was sure he was going to end up down here again tonight. He wanted it more than once and truly did have this affinity for her pussy. His tongue swiped up, running flat over her clit a few times. Swollen, he decided to rub his tongue around it in circles, which had her squeaking and moving her hips. To which he held her down again. He would decided when she could fuck his face.

Y/N tried closing her eyes thinking that maybe it would be less intense if she couldn’t see him but she was so so wrong. Her senses heightened and she swore she could feel every single cell in her body vibrate. He wasn’t even doing anything that special, but he had teased the fuck out of her to the point that anything would set her off. Y/N leaned back once again, allowing one of her hands to move to his hair while the other gripped at his blanket. He looked so happy to be nuzzled between her thighs, his eyes closed and invested in making her feel good.

“Ah fuck—“ Y/N’s voice went a few octaves higher, those circular motions always did her in. He was still going relatively slow and Y/N just tried to bite her moans back. It was embarrassing all the sounds she was letting out, but she truly had never had a guy pay this much attention to her pussy. She appreciated it so damn much. “Is there anything you can’t do? Fuck—” She whined, feeling like he was just good at everything he did. This man had no flaws in her book, the only problem was his terrible communication skills, but she wasn’t too fussed about that when his face nuzzled in her pussy.

Appreciating the compliment, Harry hummed against her and gave a bit of vibration to her. He had always enjoyed eating pussy, don’t get him wrong. But Y/N was on a whole other level. Reacting to every flick of his tongue, she was his favorite. He pulled away for a moment, spitting over her and going back to spread it around her with his tongue. He was going to blow her mind and he was ready to have her cumming all over his mouth and then his cock. It was a plan to have Y/N soak him and his bed. The next move was his favorite. Wrapping his lips around her clit, and sucking. Just slightly at first, but it was an immediate reaction. Letting out some curses, the grip on his hair tighter, he had a rhythmic and slow way about it, sucking over and over again on the little thing.

“Holy shit— fuck me—” Y/N cursed, gripping tighter on the bed sheets and his hair. Her breathing was slowly starting to pick up as the knot began to tighten in her stomach. Harry has clearly licked out plenty of pussies in his and enjoyed it. She always imagined him to be obsessed with it, but the way he treated hers made her feel like a princess. “S—so good...” Y/N whimpered, knowing that it would only get more intense from here. “Ещё Harry, пожалуйста!” More Harry, please! Her hips unintentionally moved up against his mouth once again, pleading for more in Russian. Maybe he would understand, maybe he wouldn’t, but she knew it was a big turn on for him so she thought maybe he’d do it naturally. There was only one way to find out. Her pussy throbbed against his tongue, her hole begging to be filled. “Please, fuck me... please...” Y/N begged, her voice sounding whiny and desperate. She desperately wanted to feel what it was like to have him fuck her. Properly Fuck her. Make her scream so loud she lost her damn voice.

“Mm. Patient. Daddy’s having fun.” Harry scolded, but dipped his fingers through the cum on her chest before going back to her clit. Using the dirty fingers, he began to slide one of them inside of her. There was something about the thought of his cum inside of her cunt that had Harry wanting more and more of it. He was nearly fucking nursing on her clit, humming happily as her cunt clenched hard around his finger, and he added the second. There was a high noise coming from Y/N, trying to lift her hips but he was doing a good job keeping her down. He wanted to make her cum like this. He was steady, thrusting the two fingers in and out of her soft pussy while defiling her with his cum. Every so often he would go up and scoop up a little more, sliding it back inside of her. It’s where it belonged in his mind. Y/N’s clit throbbed against his tongue, and his fingers could feel how badly she wanted to be fucked. Trying to milk them like she would be on his cock— god, he was going to be a mess as soon as he was inside of her. He was now. Nuzzling against her cunt and sucking harder against her clit, he wanted her to lose her mind

Y/N’s head was spinning. She’d never experienced pleasure like this and she knew for a fact it was all that teasing that did her in. For about three hours she was being edged on, touched, and teased. Even now he wasn’t doing enough to make her properly cum. No, this was all still build up. Whimpers and whines continued to escape her lips as she tried to stay still and relaxed, but it became harder and harder to do as he started pumping cum covered fingers inside of her. God, he was filthy, she loved it. A pussy full of Harry Styles’ cum? A dream. She’d have his fucking baby now if he asked, but frankly she was on the pill. It was surprisingly part of the contract because apparently even Jeff knew Harry liked to fuck raw.

“Please daddy, please let me cum...” Y/N pleaded, the despair present in her voice. “I’ve been so good for you, p—please daddy it hurts!” She whimpered, despite thoroughly enjoying the pain. It was worse than having an itch you couldn’t scratch. “I want your cock, pretty please!”

“Hm. I want you to cum for me first, baby. Before you can have my cock, I want a mess on my face.” Harry was desperate for it actually. He wanted it all over him and wanted to feel her cum on his fingers. Which he did absolutely begin to thrust in and out of her cunt even faster. It was so hot. Y/N was a moaning mess, literally begging for his cock while he finger fucked her. He could hear how wet she was with every thrust of his fingers, and she was rolling her hips as Harry sucked on her clit over and over again, trying to coax her into orgasm. Y/N felt good. She felt like she was meant to be on his tongue, like his fingers even felt perfectly aligned with her hips, and he knew that she was close. “Cmon baby. Let go for me. I know you want to cum for daddy.”

Y/N whined at his response, huffing and whining as he picked up speed. “Oh fuck— daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm and she swore all the breath left out of her lungs. “Oh my god!” The noise she let out was somewhere between a moan and a scream, her orgasm ripping through her. It was a sight to see. Her back arched off of her bed and legs shook uncontrollably, eyes rolling back from the sheer amount of pleasure that was coursing through her body. “Oh daddy..” She breathed heavily, a smile spreading across her face. She had never felt so good in her life. Y/N tugged I’m his hair, begging him to come up for a kiss. She needed it. She had fallen in love. There was no question about it. After knowing what she knew about him and getting to know him over these four months she had decided that she was in fact in love. She’d never tell.

----

It was 3 rounds. 3 rounds of hot and heavy and rough sex unlike anything else he had ever done. Harry knew sex wouldn’t ever be the same again. Y/N had ruined him. Completely and utterly ruined his ass and he couldn’t even be mad yet. Y/N was in his arms, underneath the covers. His hand stroked her hair as they spoke quietly about random things. He was relaxed and soft right now and Y/N had him in the perfect situation to get him to talk. Pillow talk was something he was good at. It's easier to be vulnerable when he was sexed out.

Y/N was messy but in a sexy way. Her hair wild and lips beyond swollen. They’d both need chapstick in the morning, but it was worth it. Her fingers played on his chest and traced his tattoos. Leg over his hip, snuggled right into him. It was unreal. The feeling of euphoria she had just experienced. Three whole rounds of incredible sex that definitely blew everyone else out of the water. She never thought she could connect with anyone like that, but if it would be anyone, it would be Harry. She pressed soft kisses to his warm and somewhat sweaty skin, tracing his tattoos that were still visible in the moonlight that came through the windows of Harry’s room. They never really spoke when they were alone and in private together, she figured now was probably a good time to talk.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Y/N asked softly, genuinely curious because she had no idea what to think. She knew that she hadn’t been acting all night and that what they just shared was special, but what did that mean for them? Honestly, it was all I’m Harry’s hands.

“Well...” Harry was quiet, finger tangled in her hair. “I’m thinking about how that was really good. And how your legs are going to feel like jello tomorrow.” He let out a gentle laugh. Y/N was very, very good at riding. And taking spankings. “But mainly about how good that was. Never seen someone who was willing to go through it… like actually be as kinky as they said.” It was an upheld promise and it meant a lot to him, even if the premise was kind of dumb in hindsight. “A lot of people talk up a good game but when it comes to fulfilling promises or doing things they’re asked... it’s always bullshit. Overcompensating. It’s annoying.” He ran his hand over her arm. Y/N had given him a new point of view. “Especially in entertainment. People promise a lot and rarely deliver at all. They’ll introduce you to someone or they’ll call you, or they’re very good at x y z and end up being shit. It’s just hard. Everyone in this industry likes to talk big games. I know it’s a little dumb but, was nice to see someone who lived up to their talk. Also... someone who didn’t mind getting their mouth spit into.”

Y/N giggled are his comments, listening closely as he spoke. Lucky for her, his voice was nice and slow, very relaxing and comforting. She kept going back to the thought of her in her room thinking about doing this one day and here she was. This was the most he had ever opened up to her and she definitely wasn’t taking it for granted. It was a special moment, it felt like a breakthrough. Her heart was swelling three times its original sizes, she swore it.

“It’s not dumb, it makes sense.” Y/N spoke softly, still tracing his tattoos as a form of soothing him. She laughed at his last comment, taking a second to think before speaking. “I know you were a bit apprehensive about letting me into your life, and maybe you still are, but I do appreciate all the time we get to spend together.” Y/N spoke I’m a small voice, almost scared he’d reject her kindness because he usually did. “You’re a really great guy, Harry.” It was like word vomit, she just had to tell him how she felt without scaring him. Tell him that she liked him, a lot.

Harry’s heart tugged hard. Fuck. He hated that he had to be so distant to her. It was better than the beginning but he knew he was getting too close. Tonight he thought he was going to let himself live in the fantasy world he wanted to be in.

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. God, she was stunning. He could hear the nerves in her voice and he wasn’t going to be the one to crush her right now. He’d wait at least until the morning to remind her that they shouldn’t be doing this and that it was his fault but he couldn’t. Fuck, even the thought made him want to vomit. this felt so right. Y/N was what he wanted but it was that part of him that was so desperately terrified to get close to people that kept speaking from the back of the head that got him every time. “You are too. Far too good.” Realistically he knew Y/N was good, but that deep rooted fear of being used had him holding on to the reins and not willing to let go of his stupid thought that perhaps she just wanted to be famous. There had been no signs. Nothing. Not promoting her bakery any more than normal, not talking to the media. But he was still hesitant. “You’re very nice to me, Y/N. I know sometimes I don’t deserve it but I appreciate it.”

Y/N closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat relax. She had heard it shift, knowing something must have made him nervous and she decided to ignore it for the time being as just listen to what he was saying to her. He was being nice to her, in a Harry in private type of way.

“I didn’t think you—” She paused herself, something telling her to be careful with her choice of wording. “I thought you didn’t like me for a really long time... I just wanted you to accept me because I know this situation isn’t ideal.” Y/N explained, “I hoped I could help in any way...” God she was back to being nervous all over again, word vomit just spewing out because she was terrified he wouldn’t speak to her again. She didn’t want to be the clingy girl after sex. She had gotten way too ahead of herself thinking that he actually liked her like that.

“Hey... you’re good.” Harry panicked a little, pulling her closer to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.” Damn, he hadn’t wanted Y/N scared. He was just trying to articulate. But he was kind of mean to her. “You’ve been perfect. I know dealing with me hasn’t been easy. I’m not the perfect person and it’s hard for me, too. I’m not good with new people. Or trusting them.” It was so much easier letting fans into the sliver of his life because they’d never truly know him. But Y/N was a scary aspect because she would be close. Know all his secrets. And he would be forced to trust her. “I never didn’t like you.” That much was true. “I don’t trust easily. It’s a bit scary when... when the whole world wants something from you. You never know who it is and who is safe. Who will pop up and ask something of you. There’s differences. It takes me a while to decide if someone is okay. And it was hard because you’ve been thrusted right in the hardest part. But I can tell you that you’ve been the best and the only person I think that can deal with me.” She was a saint for how she put up with him.

Y/N felt a little pang in her heart at his words. It was sentimental and maybe she was a baby because she was going to hold on to these words for the rest of her life, but she didn’t care. It would be those words that would get her through the tough days when he was acting super distant or when she was sad in general.

“It’s okay, I understand. I never expected to just walk into your life and suddenly be your best mate... I guess my point is I’m glad you trust me enough— enough to do all these things with you.” Y/N said quietly, feeling herself already drifting off into sleep.

“Night night.” She whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to his chest once again before feeling herself slip off into dream land. The sex had properly tired her out and she needed some rest.

----

It was weird. Harry got a good night's sleep which was incredibly rare for him. He hadn’t wanted to equate it to the sleepy kitten like girl in his arms but it had to be. 100%. Y/N was snoozing in his arms and it physically pained his chest to get out of bed but he needed some coffee.

11 am. They’d slept in rather late. Considering they’d been up until probably 4, it made sense though. Now his mind was racing as he started the coffee pot, wondering how he could push Y/N away. He couldn’t become dependent on her. For sleep or sex or affection. Anything. He hadn’t been regretful at all— he loved last night. He wished that his head wasn’t such a mess. But Y/N deserved better than him for a real love. He had trust issues and insecurities and he was a jealous man and the only reason he hadn’t gone out and punched people who hit on her was because he couldn’t. Y/N needed someone emotionally out together. She had a good heart and would probably offer to help him but he needed to tell her it would be better if they just remained distant friends. His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell— and a slightly embarrassed to be shirtless Harry had to make his way to the door. Thank god he had pulled on sweats.

Y/N woke up shortly after Harry, feeling the warmth missing. Last night was truly incredible and she just hoped to god things stayed okay. Prayed that she didn’t mess things up by sleeping with him. She pouted a bit at the lack of warmth in the bed, but the smell of coffee meant he was most likely downstairs. Aw that’s sweet. She got up and went to pull on his shirt that was laying around from last night, walking down the stairs just as she heard the doorbell ring.

Huh. That was weird. Was he expecting anyone? Maybe it was Jeff? Regardless, Y/N let her sore legs guide her downstairs only to be met with the sound of a familiar voice. An unwelcome familiar voice. Was it who she thought it was?

Rounding the corner, the identity was confirmed. Kendall fucking Jenner.

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

[part 5]

A/N: oof 🥵🥵🥵 but also a cliff hanger?? the tension!!! you’re in for a bumpy ride

let us know what you think!

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#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry writing #jarofstyles

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ficforce · 3 years

Text

Strong For Me

Sagamiya Konro x Reader

SFW

Set during the great fire in Asakusa

Established relationship

Watching Company 4 roll in on their metal vehicles and dousing the last of the dying flames filled Y/N with more anger than she thought she could bear. They came in like triumphant heroes but where had they been when the fires were roaring and their people were turning into Infernals?

Nowhere.

It had been the Hikeshi running through the town fighting fires and saving anyone they could, it had been regular people throwing endless buckets of water in an effort to save their houses and many of the people who had an ability to control flames were exhausted. She shoved past one of the Fire soldiers as they tried to direct her elsewhere, drawing Konro’s sword on them when the man tried to grab her - she was quickly left alone.

The sword had been given to her before Konro ran off with Benimaru; he had told her to use it to protect herself whilst he was away from her side. The weapon was one of the most precious things he owned and by giving it to her he was telling her he was going to come back.

Only… he hadn’t come back to her yet.

Y/N stepped out of the way as the Captain of the 4th Company headed up the street, glaring at him as he passed but then she heard Benimaru’s voice from a short distance away, “Beni!” Running hurt her possibly broken ribs but it was hardly on her mind as she spotted Konro propped up against a building, “Konro! Konro you’re o… okay?” Dropping to her knees on the side Benimaru wasn’t she reached out to cup his face, turning it a little to properly look at the slash across his nose, “That’s gonna scar but you’ll still be handsome.” Konro tried to smile at her gentle teasing though it came out as more of a grimace and Y/N finally seemed to notice that his skin was smoking.

Her eyes widened once they saw the burnt and still burning flesh over his shoulders, his arms and his neck, “This…” it wasn’t a normal burn, it wasn’t even the kind of burn that someone with fire resistance skin could get in extreme cases - it was burning from the inside out. Inside some of the wounds, she could see what looked like embers and she realised what he had done. “Konro… you… you didn’t have to go so damn hard! What did you do?!” Hearing her voice too loud and almost shrill she covered it with her hands and tried to fight off her tears. Through her blurry vision, she saw him try to lift his arms to hold her but it seemed it was either too painful or they were too damaged.

“I’ll be okay, Y/N.” Konro grit his teeth as a spike of pain shot through his shoulders again, “Just be strong for me.”

x - -

The town was abnormally quiet, even though two days had passed they were still finding their dead and trying to figure out who combusted and who died from some other cause. Asakusa had always been quick to pick itself up and go about its day but this was something different. The fires had destroyed most of the buildings, the Guardhouse was overfull with the homeless even though everyone with a house left were taking in as many as they could - many were frightened that another Demon might appear and Konro wouldn’t be able to beat it this time.

She had been handing out food and blankets to those who needed them when she came across the massive crater Konro had scarred into the land.

It was terrifying to see.

Not only because of what a full-powered Akatsuki could do. Not because it marked where something as catastrophic as a Demon had appeared either. It was where Konro had been willing to sacrifice everything for his Town. Her lover had gone as far as knocking Benimaru out in order to take the Demon on - not because Benimaru couldn’t have handled it but because Konro wanted to make sure someone who loved and could fight for Asakusa as much as him survived.

She could have lost him completely…

Konro had led as many able-bodied men as he could with Benimaru to protect what they could. The crater in front of her didn’t feel real, it felt like if she stepped forward it would dissipate like some sort of mirage. “Y/N,” a thick coat was wrapped around her shoulders as Benimaru came to stand next to her, worry laced his voice as he forced the woman to stand back a little. “You’ll fall in.” He didn’t say anything more as she pulled the coat closer to her body and pressed her face into the material, it was Konro’s coat, it smelt of him - like he did before all of the medicines and charred skin. “I’ll take care of giving the rest of this stuff out. Konro’s asking for you…” What he actually meant was that Konro was in agony and was calling for her.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes were a little wider than usual and she was trying to smile at him in the same reassuring way she always did. Her hand reached for his hair and she brushed it back a little, stroking her thumb over the bruise on his temple, “Y/N… I’m sorry. I should have done more. I should have been stronger.”

“Y/N…” Konro whispered and tried to reach for her face, wanting to wipe away the stray tear she was trying to ignore - it was agony. His jaw tensed as he tried to clamp down on the pained sounds wanting to escape as he tried to force shredded muscle to work.

Y/N shook her head, “He buried you, Beni… he would have broken your arms and legs if it would have protected you. There was nothing you could have done.” The young man was never going to forgive himself for not being there for Konro, she could see he was already blaming himself and wouldn’t listen to reason. Konro had explained to her how Benimaru had been at his limit, how he had been overheating and for him to be shoved aside so easily further proved that Konro had done right by him.

“…He’s calling for you, Y/N.” He took the supplied from her and headed for the next household that needed help.

Konro appeared to be asleep when she entered the room, the doctor glanced her way before hanging up another IV of who knew what inside, she didn’t care as long as it helped him. There was a large bowl with pinkish water and bloodied bandages soaking inside, shredded packets of medical patches, discarded cooling blankets designed for someone overheating… the room was a mess. The medical rooms were already taken up by the injured so they had moved him to his own room to recover and avoid infections.

“How’s he doing?”

“We’re sedating him as much as we can without killing him, Y/N.” The doctor sighed and began gathering the supplies they’d strewn out of the floor, “It’s tephrosis, his skin is carbonising and the lack of oxygen to his muscles has caused tears all over, he’s got limited mobility in his arms and the muscle around his shoulder blades will take months to heal… if it does.”

Neither spoke as Y/N let that sink in. If Konro couldn’t fight anymore… Strong men were respected in Asakusa, no one challenged the authority of the Hikeshi because it was led by the strongest. Technically, Benimaru was the strongest in a fight but he didn’t have the confidence to lead - someone could easily chip away at his resolve or Benimaru could lose his temper and go too far.

“It’ll heal, he’s stubborn.” The doctor gave her a weak smile and Y/N bit the tip of her tongue, waiting for more bad news.

“His lungs are shot.” There was no gentle way to tell her, “He’s going to be more prone to pneumonia and it won’t be easy for him to fight through it. If he uses his ability excessively not only will it be excruciatingly painful but it will impact his breathing and… the tephrosis could spread.”

It was difficult to imagine what Konro was going through physically and mentally. He wouldn’t regret risking it all for Asakusa but she knew this would be difficult for him. Y/N stood in the doorway with her hands balled up in the material of Konro’s coat, she took in his prone form as if that was going to make her understand how to deal with this. There were cooling blankets beneath him to help fight the inferno beneath his skin, he was pale and even from across the room she could see his skin was clammy as the heat seemed to pour out of him - when was it going to burn itself out?

They hadn’t bandaged his wounds yet, hoping that the air would aid in the healing.

As silently as she could she made her way to his side after the doctor had left, she knelt beside him and reached out to brush the hair from his sweaty forehead, “Y/N?” She nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, her heart hammering against her ribcage as she saw his eyes flutter open weakly, he looked exhausted and her own eyes watered as she saw how much pain was reflected in his. He was doing his best to hide that from her.

“I’m here, Konro,” Y/N leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his lips, “What do you need?” She had never seen him down like this, she had never seen him looking so… weak. He was supposed to be a strong man, he was Asakusa’s protector and now they were saying he would never fight again. Benimaru was torn up inside with guilt. Asakusa was in ashes and its people had lost their usual fighting spirit. “Do you need some water? Or… I can make you something to eat - I c-could…” Her voice got stuck in her throat, the lump that had been forming all morning finally grew too big and she nearly choked on a sob.

“Stop!” She grabbed his hand and lowered it to his side, keeping hold of his hand in both hers, “Please don’t.” Even with her voice breaking she still tried to smile for him, “Don’t hurt yourself anymore, Konro… please.” Y/N could hardly breathe anymore, she pressed her forehead down to his and forced the sadness back - she needed to be strong - “You’ve done enough. You don’t have to give anymore.”

He was the man everyone went to for help or advice, he was the one who brought Benimaru under his wing after the Master had died and kept him on the right track. He gave and gave and gave…

Konro let out a shuddering breath, his lungs ached and he began to cough, every single jolt to his body hurt worse than the previous and he couldn’t repress the pained gasps this time. “It’s okay, Konro, I’m here, I’m gonna look after you.”

x - -

“Building was completed this morning, every house has the bare necessities, schools are open, the market is trading as fairly as they can and we have a few new recruits training to join the Hikeshi by the end of the month.” Benimaru let out a small sigh as he finished his report whilst trying to learn how to treat Konro’s wounds. He wanted to help in any way he could and somehow, being able to properly treat Konro made him feel somewhat better.

“Three months to rebuild the Town?” Konro mused, “Was it supplies or labour?”

“Labour. Builders worked flat out but most of them were laid up till recently.”

Y/N listened quietly as they spoke, occasionally she would explain to Benimaru what she was doing but it was good to have the young man there to distract Konro. Months had passed but he was still in a great deal of pain, still burning on the inside but the Haijima patches seemed to help prevent the spread and provide some pain relief - she just wished it was something they could replicate so they didn’t need to rely on the Empire. She heard the pained hitches in Konro’s breathing and sometimes he would stop mid-sentence when it got too much. Sometimes it was enough to bring Konro to tears and he was hiding it the best he could to protect Benimaru and Y/N.

“H-how are the twins?”

Benimaru handed Y/N more bandage as she started to wrap Konro, “They’re assholes… they’re gonna come by later and tell you a bunch of lies about me - anything they say is a lie and if it’s not they deserved it.”

“…If Y/N and I ever have kids you’re not allowed to babysit.”

Benimaru snorted and gathered up the medical supplies to toss out, “That’s fine with me.” He stood up and headed towards the door, “Though I doubt any kid of yours would be as mean as two little girls on a sugar kick.” Not a moment after the door had slid shut, Y/N and Konro heard a crash and two little voices mocking Benimaru - it was followed shortly by their squeals and the sound of a nearly grown man chasing two little girls.

Y/N laughed at the noise and for a moment it felt like old times.

Life was slowly returning to Asakusa, it wasn’t surprising really, they were a resilient bunch. “We’re all done for today,” She kissed his heavily bandaged shoulder and rested a cooling blanket over the top, “Ready to eat?”

Konro winced as he turned his head to kiss her temple whilst she rested lightly on his shoulder, “Not really but you won’t take that as an answer, right?”

“Nope,” Y/N had been keeping his meal warm to the side and picked it up as she moved to sit just beside him, more than ready to feed him as she had for the last few weeks, “Konro…” he gave a hum in response, recognising in her tone there was going to be something he might not like. “I know you said you wanted to do it but let me put your sword on its stand…”

Since the day of the great fire his sword had sat in the corner of the room against the wall, she had made sure to clean it but he had told her he wanted to put it back. It was like a target he had set for himself, that if he could pick it up and place it on the stand on top of the dresser, it would prove something. It felt like such a sad thing to see it neglected and thrown aside - Konro had saved up and worked so hard to have it made.

Konro shook his head, “Be a little more patient with me, Y/N… besides, look,” There was a little more light in his eyes and he slowly reached out and took the chopsticks from the tray, “I’ll be feeding myself in no time!” he opened and closed the utensils and Y/N smiled back at him.

“Okay, that’s pretty impressive.” It was a good sign, it meant that he was healing and a part of her was relieved - being strong all the time, keeping his mood up and helping where she could was exhausting. Konro wasn’t a burden to her, she loved him and even if she ha to feed their whole life she would. She wondered how he managed. “You’ll be lifting your sword in no time then?”

“Yeah.” He parted his lips as she fed him a mouthful of rice.

Whilst he chewed Y/N bit her bottom lip a little nervously, “A-and then you’ll lift me up next?”

“Carrying you around is one of my favourite things, Y/N” She brushed a piece of rice from the corner of his lip where she had seemed distracted and missed. “What other challenges have you got for me?

Y/N hesitated before placing the bowl down and she reached for one of his hands, carefully bringing it to her belly, doing her best not to pull at him, “Do you think that in six months time… you could lift our baby?”

“…W…?” Konro’s eyes widened and he stared at her in shock, his mind turning over what she had said and as it began to slowly sink in, a smile a much brighter than any he had had since the fire spread across his face. “You…” Unable to think properly, he moved forward and wrapped his arms around her as best he could, it hurt like hell and she was going to yell at him but he didn’t care in that small, hopeful, moment, “I’ll be strong enough for you both.”

#sagamiya konro #fire force #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai #reader

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songsformonkeys · 3 years

Text

Digging Up Bones (whiskey x f!reader) - chapter 4

[Banner by the lovely @yespolkadotkitty ]

Summary: You work for the Statesmen as the head of their medical department. It’s your job to patch up anyone who gets back wounded and to work on ways to prevent them from getting badly wounded in the first place.

Agent Whiskey, in particular, seems to be more accident-prone than the rest and he never passes up a reason to come see you, whether for real injuries or imaginary ones. The two of you form a close friendship, which slowly turns into something more.

Then a British man with a headshot wound and a fascination with butterflies shows up in your emergency room and in the events that follow you’re forced to reevaluate just about everything you thought you knew about your partner.

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Your hands were shaking from exhaustion where they rested in your lap, clutching the bloody face mask you had been wearing for the past several hours. Your scrubs looked like a failed tie-dye experiment in light blue and red and the light in the room was unforgivingly bright, illuminating the aftermath of the surgery in stark detail.

They had wheeled Whiskey out of here about half an hour ago if your sense of time was still reliable. As soon as he and the others were out of the room, you had slumped down onto a chair and you hadn't been able to get up since then.

The pilot had said that Whiskey was stable on the way back but there was a reason you were the medical expert in this operation and not him because stable wasn't the adjective you would have used. Sure, you had been fairly confident that he wouldn't die, but that confidence had been more due to faith in your skills rather than a lack of severity in Whiskey's condition. Multiple stab wounds to his right thigh, his right arm, and a particularly nasty one in his side, as well as a broken leg, broken pinky finger, a cut across the bridge of his nose, and bruising that was out of this world. The pilot had said that Whiskey had fallen out a window and the bloody mess that had been placed in front of you made you believe that. The detail that, surprisingly, had been the most jarring was the fact that Whiskey hadn't been wearing his hat. His head had looked small and vulnerable without it and you had reached out to stroke it before you'd had time to process what you were doing. The others had definitely noticed but neither of them had said anything.

If it had been anyone but Whiskey on that table you would have gotten a thrill from the challenge of putting them back together (another thing Tonic had forbidden you from saying out loud) but, when it was him, the urgency of your movements was instead driven by fear. It was something you weren't familiar with. The fear that you would make a mistake and that you wouldn't be able to save him messed with your head and, more than once, you had to physically shake your head to get the thoughts to stop pestering you. One of your assistants, you couldn't remember who since you had been so focused on Whiskey, had offered to switch with you. She was probably worried that your friendship with the patient would affect your performance. You had refused. You were the one best equipped at handling this and if Whiskey were to die, he would die by your hand. Only then would you have been able to accept that everything had been done that could be done to save him.

Luckily, Whiskey hadn't died. It had taken hours but in the end, you had managed to patch him up and when you declared him stable it was actually the truth. It would still be hours before he woke up and when he did, he would no doubt be in a lot of pain but the immediate danger was over. Whiskey would live and you could relax. Or collapse, depending on whom you asked.

Your legs felt like lead, your mouth was dry and you could feel a massive headache building behind your eyes. You should go back to your apartment, get some sleep before Whiskey woke up, but it was as if your body had stopped cooperating. It didn't worry you. You were sure you would regain control over your body at some point, preferably sooner rather than later.

Another 20 minutes passed without any luck in that department but you never got to find out just how much longer it would have taken because, once those 20 minutes had passed, the door opened. You turned and saw Tonic standing there. He looked at you and then at the state of the rest of the room.

“Whatcha doing here, Moonshine?” he asked a little hesitantly as he stepped into the room.

“My legs don't work,” you replied stupidly. And inaccurately. Your legs worked just fine, you just weren't in control of them at the moment. It was a purely psychological thing which, as luck would have it, was Tonic's field of expertise.

“I'm not surprised,” he said, “You've been down here for hours. I hear Agent Whiskey owes you one hell of a thank you when he wakes up.”

You shrugged as Tonic gently pried the face mask from your hands and tossed it in a trashcan. You began protesting that the trashcan wasn't the place to dispose of the bloody mask but Tonic calmly hushed you.

“The assistants are waiting just outside the door for you to leave so they can clean this place up properly.”

You looked towards the door with a look of confusion.

“Why didn't they come inside?” you asked. Tonic gave you a slightly awkward smile.

“They were...worried about you,” he settled for and you didn't have the energy to question him for further details right now. He held a hand out and as you took it, he pulled you to your feet. Your legs felt surprisingly stable and normal and you shifted a little from foot to foot.

“Let's go get you cleaned up,” Tonic said and you nodded, following him outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting still at a sick or hurt person's bedside had never been your thing. You'd watched families and friends do it, and the gesture of just sitting there and maybe holding their loved one's hand had always seemed to bring them comfort and calm. It wasn't entirely clear why. The act probably wouldn't do much to increase the chances of survival of the person they cared for. Although, you supposed it probably wouldn't make it worse either.

You had never sat at someone's bedside that way. Hadn't known anyone who got sick or hurt enough to end up in a hospital. With your parents, they had been gone too quickly for there to even be a trip to the hospital. Every other sick or hurt person you had seen had been your patient, which meant there had been plenty more useful things for you to do than sit by their bed and pet them.

With Whiskey, the lines were...blurred. He was your patient but he was also your friend. And the knot of worry in your belly just kept growing, even though you knew the surgery had gone well. So when you entered his room and found him sleeping in his hospital bed, hooked up to a whole array of medical equipment, you figured that maybe it was worth a try just to see what all the fuss was about.

You dragged a chair over to his side, sat down and took his hand, just like you'd seen others do. But almost immediately you noticed that it didn't feel right. It felt weird. Whiskey's hand was warm and it felt strong even in his unconscious state. Under different circumstances, it wouldn't have been an unpleasant hand to hold. But now, the hand was way too still in your grip and the lack of jokes and flirty remarks was a clear reminder that something was wrong. There was no way Whiskey would have let you hold his hand like this without teasing you mercilessly about it.

For five minutes, you sat there, waiting for the sense of calm and comfort to kick in. All it did was make you go over, in your mind, all the things that could have gone wrong with the surgery, all the ways Whiskey could have died. It made your chest hurt and after five minutes you couldn't take it anymore. So you stood up and instead busied yourself with checking every single one of Whiskey's vitals on the monitors, the IV drip, the bandaids covering his stitches. This was you in your element and as you noted that everything seemed fine, the calm you had been longing for finally began to creep in. It was mingled with pride over the excellent job your colleagues had done.

“You're in good hands,” you smiled and told Whiskey, absent-mindedly, as if you expected a response. When it didn't come, your smile dimmed a little and you went back to check the monitors.

You had been told that he would wake up soon. That the anesthetics should be wearing off within the next half an hour. You didn't want to leave before then. Didn't want Whiskey to have to be alone when he woke up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took another twenty minutes before he did, during which time you'd tinkered with the medical equipment, smoothed out his blanket several times, and tried a second time to hold his hand, with the exact same result as last time.

The almost inaudible groan from the bed, when he finally came to, caught your attention instantly and you watched the way Whiskey's pulse sped up slightly on the monitor before you moved to his side where he would be able to see you.

You waited, holding your breath, for several seconds before Whiskey slowly blinked his eyes open. His gaze moved aimlessly around the room before finally landing on you, although there were no signs of recognition so it was unclear how much of what he was seeing that were actually registering. He opened his mouth and tried to speak but only a soft wheezing noise came out. He closed his eyes and you moved closer, wanting to tell him not to go back to sleep again. He looked so pale and it scared you.

When Whiskey opened his eyes for a second time, his eyes found yours again. He opened his mouth again to speak and this time he managed to get a single word out, though it was barely more than a whisper.

“Angel.”

You felt yourself pale as fear gripped you like an icy fist. Angels? Why was Whiskey seeing angels? Was something wrong? You'd looked at the monitors only a moment ago and everything had been fine. Was there something you were missing?

“W-what?” you asked, eyes wide and afraid. Whiskey looked at you and he must have seen your fear because a second later his eyes widened too. He opened his mouth and made a noise that sounded like a pained grunt. For a second you were at a complete loss at what you do. Whiskey was dying and seeing angels but you were monitoring everything going on in his body and there was nothing wrong. Broken bones and stitches, sure but there was nothing that should be killing him right this second.

Whiskey made the same sound again and then a third time before you realized that they weren't just grunts but him trying to speak. You leaned closer.

“Youu,” Whiskey wheezed.

“Me? Me what?” you asked and you could have sworn to God that Whiskey actually rolled his eyes at that.

“Angel,” he forced out and it took you a moment to realize. When you did, you dropped into the chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut and, with a relieved sigh, you leaned forward to rest your face against the mattress of his bed.

“Don't scare me like that,” you mumbled into the sheets, unsure if Whiskey would even hear you. He might have because you felt fingers move next to your face before the pad of one of Whiskey's fingers touched your left temple. Maybe you were just imagining but the touch felt like an apology. You stayed still for a little bit, letting Whiskey gently stroke the inch of skin which he could reach. It felt nice.

After a short while, Whiskey's finger stilled. When you turned your head slightly to look at him, his eyes were closed again but there was a small smile on his face.

You snuck out, as quietly as possible, not to wake him up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hiya! How's Whiskey?” Tequila asked as you entered the office next to Harry's cell. You threw a glance at the one-way mirror and saw Harry sitting cross-legged on his bed, scribbling something into a notebook.

“He's...as good as can be expected... considering...” you told him and Tequila looked relieved. You knew the two agents had worked together on several missions and despite them bickering like an old married couple it was obvious to everyone that they cared for each other. “Give him a day or so to wake up a bit more and then you can go see him if you like,” you added and Tequila shrugged.

“We'll see,” he said, “Don't want him to think I miss him too much. Besides, I quite enjoy the peace and quiet around here without his constant hurrying about.”

It was a lie and you both knew it. Besides, the base had been anything but peaceful and quiet for the past two days. You and Tequila had been spared since you were both otherwise occupied, with Whiskey and Harry respectively, but the rest of the base was in a state of organized chaos trying to make sense of the sudden surge of violence all over the world yesterday. There were a couple of other agents who'd also been hurt yesterday but those injuries had been minor enough that they either had taken care of them by themselves or they'd been taken care of by the rest of the medical team once they got back. Whiskey seemed to be the only one from the Statesmen who'd suffered any severe damage, although the death toll among the civilians were staggering.

The agents that had been out on missions when the violence happened all had similar stories of what had gone down. They described that it had been as if a sudden rage had taken control over them and they had been powerless to stop it, hadn't even wanted to stop it. Then, just as suddenly as it had flared up, the rage had disappeared and it had only been then that the agents had realized the consequences of their actions. A couple of them had killed civilians. Two of them had tried killing each other but luckily neither had managed. Tonic had set up shop in Champs office all day to gather as much information as possible about what had gone down. You did not doubt that Whiskey would be put through the same questioning as soon as he was well enough to talk.

No one had any clue why the violence had happened but Ginger was confident that it had something to do with the extreme low-frequency signal she had picked up before bringing Harry in. Speaking of. You nodded in Harry's direction.

“What is he doing?” you asked. Tequila turned to look as well before he answered.

“Drawing, I think,” he said with an almost soft smile in Harry's direction, “He asked for some pen n' paper earlier and I figured there wouldn't be any harm in giving him that.”

“So Tonic has cleared him for handling sharp objects then?” you asked a little curiously and Tequila paled and stuttered. You held your hands up in a calming gesture.

“I'm sure it's fine. If I were him, I would want to figure out where I was before killing myself or anyone else.”

Tequila didn't look at all comforted by this.

“All the same, we should probably...” he said and got up from his chair while gesturing vaguely towards Harry's cell. You nodded.

“He's due for his medical check-up anyway.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The check-up went quick and painless. Harry sat patiently on the edge of his bed while you examined the healing wound under his eye patch and at the back of his head. All was looking good and healing properly. You asked him about any pain, loss of motor function, or if he had noticed anything strange or painful besides the memory loss. Harry shook his head and said that besides not having any memories from half of his life, everything was just fine. You noted the tone of sarcasm in his voice and gave him an apologetic smile.

As you examined Harry, Tequila tried to stealthily smuggle the pen into his back pocket. It wasn't something you or Harry noticed as he was doing it but it became obvious once the examination was done and Harry turned to pick up his notebook again.

“My pen,” he said, looking at the floor around the table, “It must have rolled off...Do either of you see it?”

You shook your head in mock confusion but Tequila immediately folded and blurted out his confession.

“I took it!” he admitted.

“Oh?” Harry said, confused. You looked at Tequila with a raised eyebrow. You did know for a fact that they let this man out on undercover missions, and that he almost always came back successful, but after the display you had just witnessed you definitely began to wonder just how he managed that if this was him under pressure to lie.

“I'm sorry, sir,” Tequila said, straightening his back, “I know I said you could have it but then my colleague here reminded me that we don't want you to hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself? On a pen?” Harry asked with a frown before he let out another “Oh...” he cleared his throat and looked between you and Tequila.

“Mister...Tequila, miss...Moonshine. Let me assure you that I am in no danger of hurting myself. It seemed I've cheated death once already, for which I am very grateful. Now I simply wish to get well enough that you would allow me to go home...as soon as we figure out where that is.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tequila begin to reach for his back pocket so you quickly spoke.

“I'm sorry, Harry. It's just the protocol. But I'll try and have To...Tom come by later to talk to you about having some pens in here.”

Harry looked a little disappointed but he nodded and resigned to a penless afternoon.

You and Tequila stuck around a bit longer to talk to Harry. You found out that what he had been drawing in the notebook were butterflies. He told you that it calmed him. Tequila looked at the drawings with something akin to awe and declared Harry a proper artist. You and Harry laughed at the young agent's excitement.

When you and Tequila eventually had to leave, you both felt a little bad but Harry assured you that it was okay. He had books to read until Tonic/Tom got there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You swung by Whiskey's room on the way back to your office to write today's report. He was sleeping again so you only stayed a couple of minutes to check on him. Before you left, you stopped at his bedside and reached out to stroke a lock of dark hair from his forehead. Checking for a fever, you told yourself, even though you had his exact temperature on a screen to your left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, things calmed down on several fronts.

Tequila and Tonic took turns keeping Harry company. The Englishman had been cleared to get his pens back and spent most of his days drawing. Harry was a sweet and caring man and the more time either of you spent with him, the harder it was to believe that he was actually intelligence. Every time the door opened to his cell, Harry started and then apologized for being startled. He was a proper English gentleman. One day you had walked into the office next to the cell, only to find it empty, and as you looked into Harry's cell through the mirror, and saw Harry in the middle of teaching Tequila how to properly make tea. The younger agent had looked deeply concentrated.

The agency still wasn't sure about the motive behind the violent attacks all around the globe but Ginger had managed to trace the source of the extreme low-frequency waves to peoples' cellphones and a couple of days later news reached the world that billionaire Richmond Valentine had passed away. The exact cause of death wasn't revealed but the timing of it all was highly suspicious.

The Statesmen had also sent several people from the medical department out to assist at various hospitals, that were now filled to the brim with people hurt in the attacks. Only you and two others of the medics stayed behind, in case of an emergency and to care for Whiskey.

Whiskey was slowly but steadily getting better by the day. He was still weak and, even though he refused to admit it when anyone besides you were in the room, he was in a lot of pain. You spent more time with him than strictly needed, from a medical point of view, but both of you enjoyed the company.

Whiskey had no memory of what had happened but he found the anecdote about him scaring you with the angel comment highly amusing and laughed out loud, before promptly doubling over in pain and turning pale as a sheet. You kept the amusing anecdotes to a minimum after that.

Tonic came in to question him about what had happened during the attack. Whiskey's story was similar to the others. He explained that he had been fine when he was alone in the room and talking to you, but as soon as the other man had gotten in through the door the rage had consumed Whiskey too and they had fought in the room, outside the room, running down several flights of stairs before Whiskey had managed to overtake him. Whiskey hadn't noticed the other man who came running at him with a knife before it was too late and he'd been stabbed and thrown out the window. After that, he didn't remember much.

Tonic had written it all down before disappearing again. When he left, Whiskey slumped down on the bed with a pained sigh. Without him asking, you gave him some painkillers.

“Thank you, angel,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of weeks later you walked into Whiskey's hospital room only to stop dead in your tracks as soon as you crossed the threshold. The bed was empty. You looked around the room, even though there were no places in the room to hide.

Frowning, you hurried back outside and found Vermouth by one of the computers in the other room.

“Whiskey's room is empty!” you said a little too loudly and she jumped before realizing it was you.

“Yes,” she said, “He left two hours ago and...Boss, I know you know what you're doing but should he really be up and out of the hospital already?”

You blinked, confused by the sudden incompetence in your otherwise very skilled colleague.

“What? No, of course, he shouldn't! Why would you even let him leave?”

Now Vermouth looked equally confused.

“But he said you'd given him permission to go home for the day. Hell, he even had a signed note from you.”

The two of you looked at each other as the puzzle pieces began falling into place.

Fucking Whiskey!

“If I murder him,” you began, “Will you help me bury the body where Champ won't find it?”

Vermouth nodded, trying to keep a straight face and not smile.

“Of course, Boss. And if we can't find a good digging spot, might I suggest hiding him in one of the old liquor barrels?”

“Excellent idea! I'll call you when I find him.”

“Good luck!” Vermouth called after you as you left the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You banged hard on the door of the apartment before taking a step back and crossing your arms over your chest. It took almost two minutes before you heard the lock click open and you had just begun to entertain the thought of kicking the door in when Whiskey opened. He was still wearing the medical department's gray sweatpants, with one leg cut off to fit over the cast, but had somehow managed to wrangle himself out of the gray sweatshirt and into a white t-shirt with a red and gray plaid button-down shirt over. His Stetson was perched atop his head for the first time since he'd been injured. It was pushed back slightly to reveal more of his pale and tired face. There were circles under his eyes so dark they were almost purple and a slight stubble was unevenly sprinkled across his normally so clean-shaven jaw. He looked about two seconds away from toppling over.

“Moonshine...” he said a little hesitantly, probably noticing the expression on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded to know.

“I live here,” Whiskey replied and you honest-to-god stomped your foot in frustration. Whiskey noticed and raised an eyebrow. A smile began to form on his lips but then he met your angry gaze and he instead adopted a more somber expression.

“Why are you not in your hospital room?” you continued, “Vermouth said you told her I gave you permission to go home. You even faked a note?”

“Darlin', relax. I feel fine. I don't need to...”

“Really? And what degree in medicine makes you qualified to make that judgment?” you snapped, “Because last time I, your doctor, checked you had just broken several bones, been stabbed even more times and the wound in your side is still held together mostly by sheer will-power. So I wouldn't say you're fine.”

Whiskey's jaw clenched slightly. He was annoyed with you, which was just as well because you were furious with him and his recklessness.

“I don't like being cooped up,” Whiskey shot back, crossing his own arms over his chest and only swaying a little as he let go of the support of the doorframe.

“And I don't like it when you're hurt!”

Whiskey's expression instantly softened.

“Moonshine...” he began.

“Don't Moonshine me right now! I didn't spend hours stitching you up just so you could go out and tear those stab wounds open again. It's a miracle that stab to your side didn't hit anything vital.“

Whiskey opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him before he could get anything out.

“You almost died!...and I was really worried.”

Any trace of annoyance was long gone from Whiskey's face. Instead, there was a softness and almost sadness in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized and you held your arms crossed in front of you.

“Yeah well...you should be,” you said, feeling a little calmer now that he'd admitted that you were right, “You're not well enough to be out yet.”

Whiskey pursed his lips and then he sighed.

“Alright, darlin'. Let me just turn off the TV and then I'm all yours.”

#whiskey/reader #whiskeyxreader #agent whiskey #kingsman golden circle fanfiction #kingsman golden circle #female reader #my fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

mochikeiji · 4 years

Text

Rockabye, My Love

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: slight fluff, soft father/daughter moments, angst. Trigger Warning: mentions of death, depression.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Every lyrics had a deeper meaning in them than just words that'll fit a song. Yours was heavier than anyone could think of, and Akaashi was singing it to his beloved baby girl.

↣ a/n: ohayo world! I'm sorry for late posts, expect the upcoming ones soon. School was giving too much works again. Thank you all for loving my Day 2 fic in Akaashi Week!! Also, the lullaby in this lyrics is the same tune as Isabella's Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.

⇢ Day 3: Single Parent AU

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine.

You are the most precious thing I have loved.

I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more.

I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you.

You are the most beautiful thing that has came.

I will protect you forever, my love."

Life is difficult in many ways. It's either we were born different, have lost someone dear or have lost ourselves. It's no wonder how millions of people from all around the world, evert second, minute, hour— someone gives up on everything. It was cruel, disturbing, most of all heart breaking.

Akaashi never understood your true intentions. He was one hundred percent sure he had kept an eye on you at all cost. He's made you smile brighter, he's understood you more than anyone. He made you feel alive.

Yet now you ended up being dead to your own inner demons.

He remembers coming home after receiving good news from his company. He had received a promotion and a week off just for you. That was when the hospital had contacted him. He can recall his ragged breathing when he was allowed to place a foot in your room. Your monitor beating in an ever agonizingly slow rhythm, he knew it wasn't normal and immediately ran to your side.

He wanted to yell, scream, ask you why, why did you do this to yourself but he couldn't, not when you looked at him so scared and weak. The doctors had told him that he had only a few minutes with his wife, the drugs you've intake was too much, not everything was removed nor pumped out of your system. Akaashi never felt so depressed in all his life after that situation as he buried himself into your chest, listening to your lullabies that soon died down along with the light in your eyes.

That was the only reminisces he's had with you,the lullaby you would sing to yourself as a teen who strived to survive the world, a lullaby for his anxieties and own demons to be tamed, and the last thing you ever said. He was happy that over the years before your death, you had given him a customized music box that had the right notes of your song, only this time no one was singing it.

Fingers tapping anxiously on his work table, Akaashi started to fiddle with his thumb and then his index, losing his focus despite looking at the same drafted page lit up on his computer screen. He kept eyeing the pack of cigarettes that was just on the edge of his window— he needed one right now. Cigarettes were the last options he has for when he couldn't calm his beating heart or let his emotions out. But he knows how wrong it was to be damaging his health, and he knows he's going to get an earful from Bokuto since he visits his apartment every weekend. Even if Akaashi tries to hide his dirty deeds, Bokuto wasn't stupid to read through his eyes like before.

Foot was starting to bounce, his eyebrows were beginning to furrow, as if he was irritated, in trouble, or something. It wss getting harder for him, who wouldn't after losing their wife? The person he's loved since his teen years, the one he's vowed to never make her feel like how she did in the past. He failed you. He blames himself for all that matter, if he's added more precautions, maybe you'd still be here.

He bites his lips and whimpers, hands ruffling through his tossled hair and holding his head as his elbows were supporting him on the table. Everything was closing in once more, the walls to his workspace became suffocating, how he wishes one of his friends or yours would come knocking at his door even though it was already 2:30 am knowing how reckless he's getting. He swore he wasn't going to die sooner as you did. He promised to himself to let you and his memories live on, because once he dies, no one will ever remember the battles you've fought for, the good things you've done to many, and the love you've shared with him throughout the years.

"It's so hard without you, love.."

Eyes finally cracking with tears behind his glasses, he lets them stream down his face with his body shaking on his chair. Soon enough he was bound to get another headache from extreme emotion and will probably lay the whole day about it. But none of that mattered to him anymore.

He just wanted you back.

But his cries weren't the only ones that can be heard in his apartment.

Jolting up to realization, he carelessly wipes away his tears with his sleeves and tumbles our of his chair straight to his room. His heart was beating fast in worry and adrenaline, he thought the source of the crying in his room had been taken away or worse.

But it turns out, it was just his little baby girl crying in lonliness.

As he got closer, her cries were getting deafening, but he didn't mind. Not when his heart was swooning with guilt when he thought of giving up and caving to his own needs when he's forgotten he has a reason to continue on.

With the night lamp on at the side of her crib and his bed, he cooes at the sobbing baby with sweet nothings to catch her attention. Th cries immediately died down and replaced with sniffles and the baby looking up hazily at the dark figure above her.

Smiling, Akaashi carefully picks her up from the crib to cradle her on his chest. Giving her small pats on her back with hush whispers when he feels her stretch on his body.

"Shhh, I'm sorry, were you lonely?"

Grabbing on the string of his lamp shade on the nightstand, he pulls the string, allowing more light to glow in his room, and for his little girl to finally see that she wasn't alone anymore. Akaashi swayed gently as he remained in eye contact with the baby, smiling ever so slightly at the unreadable expression his daughter was possessing and played with her fingers.

"Maybe I should work with you around, you never really like it in the dark, do you, baby?"

His little girl cooes at him, curious of what language he was speaking to her and hopes he understood what she was saying as well. Akaashi's heart swelled at the adorable sound and nuzzled his face softly on her stomach, the baby still confused as ever but just clenches her hands in wonder.

His anxieties and thoughts disappearing in the air whilst he sat down on his bed and held his baby near to where his hesrt was beating. The same day you died, was the same day you had given birth. It was a miracle for the baby to be healthy despite what you had intake. He remembers after your announced death, the nurses had to usher him out, but only to drag him into another room where lies a bassinet and a couple of IV's attached and treatments.

When he got closer, his world was shaken that day. The sight of you and his baby alive and now existing after 9 months of waiting was there right before his eyes. But his heart broke at the thought of him being the only one to raise her, and her not having to meet her beloved mother. He was so emotional that day that he almost lost it when he realizes why she was kept in there and why there were so much stuff in this room. He didn't want to think thag he was losing another one when he had just met her.

The nurses explained that there was nothing wrong with the baby, just taking further check ups and to ensure she was absolutely healthy. He was already been forced outside your room that no longer held light, he wasn't going to leave the room where his daughter was until he holds her in his arms where he knows she'll be at the safest.

As time went by to now, Akaashi feared her growing up in the future. She resembled mostly to you. She was a dead carbon copy of you and he was terrified she'd experience what you have as history might repeat itself. The very thought of his daughter having something inside her little head without telling him scares him, Akaashi knew how cruel the world can be and hoe each second in life matters because we are unaware of the deaths happening at those time.

He prayed his baby girl wouldn't go through what you did as a child and carry it until she grows up. He hopes and believed in his own strength that he wasn't going to fail her this time— that there will be no person by her side and will lovd and protect her other than her daddy.

His tears blocking his vision of her as he held her tightly. He whimpers at remembering his thoughts earlier. He wanted to curse himself from thinking of leaving his daughter to fend for herself in this world and to find a way to be back to you. But he knows he was still with you, your daughter was the last love you could ever give him and he was going to love her more than anything.

The trembling of his body stops when his baby started to cry and squirm in his hold. Her whimpers breaking his heart when he couldn't solve her distress, it seemed like she was in pain and he knew this situation like in the past.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm sorry."

Reciting out the same line he's used when he held you against his body that night. You cried and held a hand to your heart that day as he hugged you tighter. The demons inside you he had curse to go away and leave you alone. But they didn't.

An idea popped in his head and reached out inside his nightstand drawer. The little music box you have crafted for him still looked the same as it was before since it was taken with good care. He proceeded to wind it gently to let the soft tune play as he stood up once more to cradle his crying baby.

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine."

He sings the first verse of the long memorized lullaby you sang for him. Using his thumb to wipe away the little tears that had escaped his daughters eyes. Her cries were stopped momentarily and were replaced by sniffles. Her dazed eyes making eye contact with her father's.

"You are the most precious thing I have loved."

Akaashi would be cringing thinking his voice was terrible, but the little girl in his arms seemed to be intrigued and loving the harmonized voice of her daddy and an unknown tune from the background.

His voice was smooth and soft. Completely out of character from his monotone one, but enough to capture the attention of someone.

"I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more."

He couldn't tell if he was singing the lullaby to her or he was making a silent vow to her. The lullaby you sang to him for the first time he tried searching for in the internet what the lyrics meant and who wrote it. Sadly, there were no results that came up that day.

And you never really told him how you got that song and who it was referring to in the lyrics.

But nevertheless, the lyrics could never be at the right time as it was now. It felt like he was reminding himself of what his role was from now on and what his daughter should always remember as she grows up.

No one was going to hurt her on her watch.

"I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you."

At the end of that line his voice cracks as he held back his own tears. He can hear only now your voice and hoe you would thread his hair during nights of distress. How he missed so many cracks of your voice from being too intrigued with the song. How he missed the fact that you needed him the most those nights of terror, yet you chose to make him feel secure and loved without leaving anything for yourself.

Slowly, his mind was connecting all the lyrics and your actions in his head. You were a self reliant person.

You sang this song in reminder that you were loved, beautiful and was protected by the few people that truly loved you. This song was meant to keep you alive.

To keep him going.

And now

It was a vow from him to his daughter.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has came."

Smiling sadly down to his baby now calmed down and listening intently to her daddy, Akaashi leans down to press kisses on her face with his tears sliding down.

He should've sang this to you when you needed it the most. A reminder of what you truly were to him. He hopes deep inside, somewhere up there or in his room you were listening. Listening to him remind you and his daughter— his world and universe, that he was going to be stronger and fulfill his own promises.

One day he was going to meet you in another life he believed, where he'd make you stay, where you and him will raise your little girl once again and he'll wake up next to you. Where he'll be the one singing this lullaby tune as he hold you both in his arms.

But for now, it was just going to be him and his baby girl.

"I will, protect you. Forever, my love."

103 notes · View notes

liliesoftherain · 4 years

Text

Masterlist

All works are my own, all rights reserved. Re-posting, modifying, copying, or translating(without proper permission), is not allowed. Don’t Plagiarize, just ask if you want to do something, have an idea, just ask. (picture found on google and edited, unsure of source, if you know base image let me know I’ll gladly give credit) Enjoy reading!

Updated: Feb 19th, 2021

xReader

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Katsuki Bakugou!:

i. My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader Masterlist: You're finally getting to attend the school of your dreams, meeting great people along the way. You're ready to prove to everyone you have what it takes to become a pro hero. You're not looking for any love, but when does that stop it from finding you on it's own? Reader insert centered around 3 main boys, Todoroki, Bakugou, and Midoriya.

ii. A Knight’s Honor Masterlist: You’re a female squire, the only female training to be a Knight. You are not willing to give up your dreams of Knighthood to become a slave to society to save face. No matter what anyone says, you’ll prove them wrong. You’ll show him who he’s messing with. !ON HIATUS!

iii. Bomber Jacket: Who knew that old bomber jacket of his would lead to this.

iv. “You’re cute when you’re angry”: Request, Prompt 53: “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

v. Something Witchy is going on: Request, Witch Quirk, Prompt 30: “It was you the whole time.”

vi. Something Witchy is Going on II Request, Witch Quirk, Prompts 25. “I got you a present” 41. “Why choose me?”

vii. Undrunk: Request, Older!Au, Prompts 32: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” 30."It was you the whole time."

viii. Curly Hair is Captivating Request, Bakugou won’t ever admit it but there’s something about you and that hair that drew him in

ix. Second Chances Masterlist: Request, When he watches you marry someone else, he knew he screwed up all those years ago. If only there was something he could do to get you back, if only there was a way... to have a second chance at being yours.

x. Thiccer than a Snicker Request, you may have a great body but that doesn’t mean you’re confident in showing it off, so you hide it. Your boyfriend lets you know that he doesn’t care either way what you wear

xi. For the Love of a Daughter Request, Bakugou loves your guys’ daughter beyond belief, and he never wants to see her hurt. Ever. But when push comes to shove, he’s left remembering every moment he’s ever cried.

xii. No Biggie Request, you’re just too chill and Bakugou is not. He freaks out, and you learned how to shut him up.

xiii. No Biggie Part 2 Request, some headcanons for the dramatic katsuki and his nonchalant partner

xiv. What a Daddy’s Girl Request, this was just a regular morning for your family, with the fussing and glares; your little girl was way too much like her daddy. You loved them both anyway

xv. Who said pickup lines don’t work? Request, Prompts 52. “Can I kiss you right now?” 58. “Are you flirting with me?”

xvi. Say Uncle! Eijirou surely didn’t expect this when coming over to your place for dinner.

xvii. Still Remember-Bakugou POV Request, Part 2 of Still Remember, You still remember how it all happened, and so does Bakugou.

xviii. Ocean Eyes, or Something More? Pirate!AU, Commodore(officer)!Bakugou, Pirate!Fem!Reader, nothing will ever beat the view of your ocean blue, but why do his ruby eyes captivate you so?

xix. Persever Though Forsaken Soulmate!AU, you didn’t want your soulmate--did’t belive that there was such thing as a perfect match and it sucks because yours has been by your side for years

xx. Ground Zero Reads Thirst Tweets Collab, you and Katsuki are both Pro-Heroes, brought onto a film set to read some thirst tweets

xxi. YouTube Challenge! Request, youtube couple relationship, youtube couple challenges, prompts 18. “Have you lost your damn mind?” 43. “Why don’t you kiss me already?” 58. “Are you flirting with me?”

xxii. The Barbarian King Request, Katsuki want to marry you and the only issue? He has to beat you in a fight for you to even think about accpeting his hand

xxiii. It’s an Ordering in Kind of Night Request, Dad!Bakugou, Mom!Reader, bakugou and his brat have cute father/daughter bonding moment--to bad it went south as soon as you walked in, prompt 31 "This is why we can't have nice things"

xxiv. You Got That Right Request, cute cuddles with your boyfriend lead to more than you ever thought, prompts 21. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” 47. “Will you marry me?”

xxv. At What Cost? Sparked from a theory youtube video where it says Bakugou is the second holder of OFA, you were a hero... but at what cost?

xxvi. Trust Fall Maybe you took your trust fall exercise a little too far, but at least he didn’t let you fall

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Shoto Todoroki!:

i. Unsettling News: Request, Pro Hero AU!, Prompts 34: ”I feel like I can’t breathe.” 48: ”I’m pregnant.”

ii. Jealous Much?: Request, Prompts 20: “Wait a minute… Are you jealous?” 58: “Are you flirting with me?”

iii. “I want an answer goddammit!”: Request, Pro Hero AU!, HC, Prompt 29: “I want an answer goddammit!”

iv. My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader Masterlist: You're finally getting to attend the school of your dreams, meeting great people along the way. You're ready to prove to everyone you have what it takes to become a pro hero. You're not looking for any love, but when does that stop it from finding you on it's own? Reader insert centered around 3 main boys, Todoroki, Bakugou, and Midoriya.

v. Second Chances Masterlist: Request, When he watches you marry someone else, he knew he screwed up all those years ago. If only there was something he could do to get you back, if only there was a way... to have a second chance at being yours.

vi. Ice Skating Drabble: Request, ice skating scenario with shy s/o

vii. YouTube Challenge! Request, youtube couple relationship, youtube couple challenges, Prompts 18. “Have you lost your damn mind?” 43. “Why don’t you kiss me already?” 58. “Are you flirting with me?”

vii. Selfish Request, you both want to be selfish, Prompts 1. “Is it possible to love too much?” 33. “I might never get another chance to say this.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Izuku Midoriya!:

i. I’m Home: Request, Pro Hero AU!, Prompts 36. “Here. You can have it back.” 52. “Can I kiss you right now?” 54. “We’d make such a cute couple.” 59. “Is that my shirt?”

ii. I’m Obsessed Based on the song ‘Fangs’ by Matt Champion. Izuku contemplates you and recalls the moment he fell in love.

iii. I’m Obsessed Part 2: Request, second part to ‘I’m Obsessed’, can be read alone, Prompt 52: “Can I kiss you right now?”

v. Bittersweet Findings, in that Order Part 1: Request, prompt 20. “Wait a minute... Are you jealous?”

vi. Bittersweet Findings, in that Order Part 2: Request, prompt 20. “Wait a minute... Are you jealous?”

vii. It’s Deku! Request, you’re a single mother raising twin boys, let’s see how that trip to the mall goes.

viii. Second Chances Masterlist: Request, When he watches you marry someone else, he knew he screwed up all those years ago. If only there was something he could do to get you back, if only there was a way... to have a second chance at being yours.

ix. All in the Name of Pranks Request, Prompts 23. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while...” 24.”I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

x. Ice Skating Drabble: Request, ice skating scenario with shy s/o

xi. Not Stories After All Mermaid!Au, Adventure!Izuku, Mermaid!Reader, all Izuku wants to do is sketch and take note of the beautiful area around him--he didn’t expect to meet you

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Denki Kaminari!:

i. “It’s not what it looks like...”: Request, HC, Prompt 26: “It’s not what it looks like...”

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Eijiro Kirishima!:

i. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”: Request, Prompt 53: “You’re cute when you’re angry”

ii. Never be the Same: Request, Prompts 4. “Look at me-just breath, okay?” 57. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

iii. Get Fuc-Cleated: Request, Kirishima fawns over his cute soccer player of a girlfriend, only to watch you get hurt during a game

iv. YouTube Challenge! Request, youtube couple relationship, youtube couple challenges, Prompts 18. “Have you lost your damn mind?” 43. “Why don’t you kiss me already?” 58. “Are you flirting with me?”

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Hitoshi Shinsou!:

i. TikTok Queen Materlist: Social Media AU! You’re a normal barista but your heart longs for the title of the queen of TikTok. You post cutesy latte art that has given your channel a lot of followers over the years, but your roommate and friends have long since surpassed you and you are desperate to fix the gap. When your over energetic Tik Tok star of a friend offers you his help, you jump at the chance. Who knew that the challenge you did would get you THIS much attention-and why do you now have an bad boy who is no good for your health trying to force his way into your life? !ON HIATUS!

ii. A Little Lesson Request, Prompt 27. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Dabi!:

i. “I want an answer goddammit!”: Request, HC, Prompt 29: “I want an answer goddammit!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Shouta Aizawa!:

i. Let it Out Request, HC, Prompt 4. “Look at me-just breathe, okay?”

ii. His Kids Request, Dad!Aizawa, Daughter!Reader, father/daughter fluff, Aizawa takes you to school to meet the other kids he babysits all day

*-*-*-*-*-*-

Tenya Iida!:

i. Still Remember You still remember how it all happened, discord collab

*-*-*-*-*-*-

1K notes · View notes

wkemeup · 5 years

Text

Obsession

summary: Targeted after your complicated relationship with Bucky ends up on every news channel in the city, your stalker takes things into his own hands to ensure that you belong to him, and him alone.

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 11.2k

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, mild torture/violence, people being assholes to Bucky,

authors’s note: oooo man Ive been dying to write something like this for awhile and I’m so happy I could incorporate a prompt from @afewmarvelousthoughts’ writing challenge! My prompt was “We’re going to be ok” Hope you enjoy!! ✨

Bucky has been through more in his lifetime than most, survived more than he should. He’d been drafted into the US army in the second world war and given a group of men to lead through the trenches of hell. He’d been a prisoner of war, twice, experimented on, tortured, beaten and mutilated for a cause he never agreed to. He’d been ripped of his memories, of his innocence, and broken down into a shell of his former self, forced to carry out orders for the vilest organization in known history.

He’d been destroyed from the inside out, in every sense of the term, and still, nothing torn through him with a paralyzing fear quite like the moment he found out you’d been taken.

O N E M O N T H E A R L I E R

“So, Y/n has a stalker.”

Bucky choked on his cereal as Tony strode into the kitchen with a hand full of manila envelopes, sporting a single raised eyebrow and a purse of his lips.

You giggled as milk trailed down Bucky’s chin, rubbing soft circles on his back until the coughing fit subsided. You nudged his shoulder as you scooped up a bite of honey nut cheerios from his bowl while he was distracted. He narrowed his eyes and you only shrugged in response, cheeks full of cereal and a drop of milk slipping from between your lips.

You didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by Tony’s announcement and yet Bucky’s palms were starting to sweat and his breaths were coming in a bit harsher than usual. He was a world class assassin, could take out a moving target from a mile away, was exceptionally calm under pressure to the point where he felt more at peace with the handle of a knife nestled in his grip than a cup of tea. That all went out the window when you were involved.

“What makes you so sure it’s a stalker and not some overly enthusiastic fan?” Clint piped up from the couch, eyes still glued on his book.

Bucky nodded to himself, attempting to bring his heart rate back to a normal pace before you could pick up on it.

Clint was right. The avengers had fans. It wasn’t a surprise that a few of them could take things a little too far. Steve has been bombarded for pictures while trying to pick up pizza from his favorite shop in Brooklyn more than once and Parker had to give hell to a few male fans not too long ago who had tried to push a girl down while she was asking politely for his autograph.

Luckily, Bucky wasn’t usually on the receiving ends of those sorts of things. The public still had a complicated relationship with the Winter Soldier, but he didn’t much mind. He was one of the few of the team who could still walk down the street without being bothered for pictures. Even without his metal arm in view, pedestrians still parted like the red sea when he walked in their direction. People would turn away, cower from him if they accidentally made eye contact. Some of the brave ones would take his picture from a distance, careful to shut off the flash, but he noticed.

In the streets, he was left alone.

But not you. No, you were exceptionally adored by the people of New York; always stopped for photos from little girls in dress up costumes hand stitched to match your stealth suit, dozens of interview requests pouring in weekly from esteemed journalists and high school newspapers alike, your image synonymous with relief, safety, and an aura of empowerment not even your critics could touch.

It was because you were so loved by the people, Bucky couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that he was the one you let hold your hand in the quiet hours at the compound, to sleep next to you at night when the nightmares were too much, to pull that smile from your cheeks he fallen so easily for.

Your relationship was complicated, a tangled mess of something a little more than friendship, but there was no doubt in his mind how he felt for you. You’d make his heart jump every time you’d walk in the door, had this uncanny ability to make him smile even on his darkest days, and you took him as he was, unapologetically and without judgement.

You were everything to him.

Voicing it aloud was something entirely different.

He knew the world would never accept a relationship between you and him. You were too kind, too selfless and generous, and he was a monster by the public’s standard, an instrument of Hydra. So, he kept his feelings hidden far away in the back of his chest and held onto the small stolen moments he had with you. For now, it was enough.

It was well known amongst the team the connection you shared, but no one dared bring it up. Not after you nearly chewed everyone out when Sam had caught you carding your fingers in Bucky’s hair during a movie night when the explosions on the screen felt too real. You had only scooted closer to him, brought his head to lean against your chest as you raked your nails soothingly against his scalp, tossing Sam a glare whenever he so much as looked in Bucky’s direction.

It was always you and Bucky.

On missions. In the gym. Making pancakes in the morning. Binge watching on the couch ‘till three in the morning. Pulling pranks on Sam.

Racing to the other’s room in the dead of night when a scream ripped through the halls. Sitting in a folding chair in the med bay for hours on end when one of you was injured in the field. Unwilling to leave for even a moment until you knew the other was okay.

You and Bucky.

Tony pinched at the bridge of his nose and Bucky found himself drawn to the manila envelopes tucked under his arm. “No ordinary fan does shit like this.”

With that, Tony let out a heavy sigh, and pulled out a stack of photographs from the first envelope. He tossed them down the table until they spread out over the surface. Bucky froze, breath hitching in his chest as his eyes darted to the pictures; each image a picture of you in various locations, unaware of the camera.

Bucky couldn’t help but instinctively slide closer to you, his thigh brushing yours just to ground himself. He watched nervously as you glanced over the pictures curiously, eyes flickering to ones of you walking out of a cafe in Queens, one in your tactical gear where you led bystanders out of the path of whatever chaos was erupting in the streets, one of you chatting casually with Wanda with an iced coffee in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, picking up one of you on your morning jog. You were standing by a bench in central park, wrist raised as if you were about to check your heart rate when something caught your attention. Your eyes stared in the direction of the camera, but you hadn’t seen it, just a little too far to the left.

There were dozens more. All from over the last three years since you’d joined the Avengers.

“How did you get these?” Nat asked, holding up a picture of you wearing that teal blouse that always seemed to make Bucky’s heart stop as you took a picture with a fan on the street, oblivious to the photographer behind this particular photo.

“Special delivery straight to my office,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “No return address, of course.”

Bucky found his eyes caught on a photo of you walking down an empty side street in Brooklyn, dressed casually in blue jeans ripped at the knees, a grey knit sweater, and a smile thrown over your shoulder as you looked behind you to something outside of the camera’s range. Bucky remembered that day well. You were looking at him. It was the first day he had agreed to let you drag him to the coffee shop you’d been telling him about for months.

“Oh, that’s not all,” Tony grumbled, pulling Bucky from his trance as he disbursed a second wave of evidence. This time, handwritten letters in thick black ink.

Bucky scooped up one of the dozens of crinkled papers. He began to read aloud, “Today I saw you by your favorite bagel shop in Queens. Each day you grow more beautiful and I stop to wonder if you’re not Aphrodite herself. You were wearing that yellow sundress you know that I love and I bought you sunflowers to match. You’ll find these with your captors’ assistant—” Bucky shook his head. “Captors?”

“Must be us,” Steve said as he started to read one of the letters himself. “It’s signed ‘with all my love, Eros.’”

“This asshole calls himself Eros?” Sam scoffed. “What kind of a name is that?”

“The Greek god of lust,” Nat replied casually and you laughed under your breath. Only Bucky seemed to notice. He couldn’t understand why his stomach was twisting into knots and you were seemingly unaffected by this.

“I’ve got everyone working on finding this freak,” Tony said, gathering up the photographs and letters. “We’ll find him, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

You only shrugged and finished eating your cereal, sending Bucky a wink that didn’t ease the tension in his gut.

After the team had disbursed and only you and Bucky remained at the table, even long after you’d both finished your breakfast, he finally gained the courage to ask, “how are you so calm about this?”

You smiled, your hand brushing over his shoulder, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It was a soothing motion you had grown to do for him over the years and Bucky leaned into it subconsciously. You had a way of easing him before he could realize what you were doing.

“I’ve known about Eros for years,” you admitted. Bucky narrowed his eyes in shock. “He’s been sending me letters since I became more public as an Agent. I knew him back when I was living in Queens before I joined the Avengers, before I met you, too.”

You must have noticed the flash of panic across his face because you reached up and brushed a hair from his eyes, smiling sweetly at him, enough to unravel the knots in his stomach.

“He’s harmless, Buck,” you said and he wished he could believe you. “I brought it to the local PD when he first showed up and they said they’d seen this stuff a million times. Men like this are cowards and they get off on appreciating from afar. He’ll never act on his delusional affection for me. Besides, I’m a highly skilled Agent of Shield and I live in a glorified dormitory for superheroes. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Bucky nodded as you carded your fingers through his hair. As an exhale left his lips, you stood up to wash both of your dishes. Bucky watched you as you hummed to yourself, dipping the bowls in the soapy water, and he tried to convince himself that you were right, that this Eros would never make a move on you, that it would only every amount to creepy photographs and love letters.

He should have listened to his gut.

***

Bucky sat across from you, huddled in the corner of the small family owned café in Brooklyn you loved so much. Adorned in an oversized sweatshirt and your hair tucked back into a bun at the base of your neck, a few strands falling out to frame your face, and a pair of sunglasses in hopes to conceal your identity, you blew carefully on the surface of your tea. The steam wavered slightly and you crinkled your nose as you took a sip.

Bucky smiled to himself, adjusting the rim of his baseball cap and glancing over his shoulder at the hustle of commotion coming from the kitchen. Just a black coffee for himself, he didn’t pay much mind to the scalding temperature as it passed his lips, too transfixed in the way your eyes shifted, a gentle smile curving against your cheeks, as you watched an older couple settling down at the table off of Bucky’s left.

It was your tradition; one you insisted could not be postponed even with Eros lingering over your shoulder. It was nothing new, you told Bucky. It wasn’t going to get in the way of your weekly Sunday morning tea and coffee in Brooklyn. It wasn’t always this shop and it wasn’t always on Sundays in the weeks your missions interfered, but you had insisted it was important to keep up with. You wanted to make sure Bucky felt at home in Brooklyn again, felt safe to be out in the streets, and he appreciated that more than you knew.

When both cups had been drained and the server had stopped by to retrieve the empty mugs, Bucky slid a few dollars onto the table and followed you to the door. It had been a while since the two of you had a genuine day off and Eros was virtually silent for the time being, so you convinced him to take the longer route back to the tower. Bucky was keen to do just about anything you asked of him.

So, as you led him through the streets of New York, purposely taking turns onto the less crowded sidewalks, you told him about Sam’s latest prank he planned to pull, giving him a warning Bucky was sure Sam would not appreciate, though you only giggled to yourself and held your pointer finger over your lips to hush him. You told him about your encounter with a little girl asking for your autograph while you were on your morning run and the sunrise you’d had the privilege of seeing.

As you passed a group of kids playing basketball in a small parking lot, you asked for the third time in as many weeks if was absolutely sure he didn’t want to come do a mentor day with you at the Boys and Girls Club.

“The kids would really love you, Buck,” you said sincerely and Bucky knew you truly did believe it, though he struggled to find the truth it in himself.

“Steve’s got me trying to train the new recruits in hand to hand, so I won’t be able to make it this time, doll. I’m sorry,” Bucky muttered out, pressing his lips out into an apologetic smile.

It was a bullshit excuse, one he’d given before, though you never called him out on it. You knew him well enough to understand he didn’t trust himself enough to be around kids, to be a role model when he could hardly stand to look at his own reflection in the mirror.

So when your hand snaked into his, curling against hard metal as you walked, Bucky’s heart nearly skipped a beat. He never gave you enough credit for how perceptive you were. You just smiled up at him, leaning your head on his shoulder for the smallest of moments, and the gesture told him everything he needed to hear.

That you understood. That you were there for him. That you’d wait until he was ready. That it was okay to take his time.

A light squeeze in his hand and you tugged him out of the way of a runner he almost didn’t see coming. It wasn’t the first time you held his hand in public, but it was the first time you didn’t let go after a few paces. It wasn’t a stolen moment captured before anyone else could see or do double take in your direction. Ten paces later and you hadn’t let go. One block. Two blocks. Nearly ten blocks later and your hand still set carefully in his.

He had never wished his left arm could feel more than he did right now. He could sense the pressure, articulate the warmth of your palm, feel the trace of your thumb back and forth against his soothingly as you walked, but it read like data. He wondered if you’d let him switch to your other side but he was too afraid that maybe just acknowledging it would be enough to make it stop and he couldn’t risk it.

“But, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat nervously, “maybe you’d want to help me lead this training Monday morning for the rookies?”

He grimaced as the words left his tongue, already berating himself for taking nearly ten minutes of silence just to work up the courage to ask. Your hand in his was making him light-headed and he swore you could just feel the absolute abhorrent rate of his heart beat. When he looked over at you, he was relieved to find your lips curving up into your cheeks.

“Of course! I will absolutely be there!” you grinned wildly, enough to make Bucky’s stomach weak. “You know I love kicking the ass of some of those cocky agents fresh out the academy who think they own the place.”

Bucky chuckled under his breath, nodding fondly as he remembered the time you had an arrogant frat boy on his back within three seconds of sparring.

He paused at the red light, waiting for the crosswalk to signal for them to pass, when he noticed your face light up at the sight of the ice cream shop you had told him about a few weeks ago. Your smile was so infectious, Bucky didn’t even realize the grin on his face until his cheeks started to hurt.

“Oh Bucky, we have to go!” you exclaimed giddily, your other hand wrapping around your waist to hold onto his forearm. You were practically jumping with joy and Bucky felt his heart swell. The very second the crosswalk lit green, you began tugging him towards the shop and Bucky dragged his feet just for the drama of it, chuckling under his breath as you used your entire body weight against him.

“Bucky, come on!” you laughed, and Bucky realized he hadn’t felt that carefree in years.

The moment he gave in, you dragged him up to the line extending out the door, your hand still planted firmly in his. You grinned up at him, excited in almost a child-like state that Bucky couldn’t seem to get enough of it. You were in the middle of listing your top ten favorite flavors when a voice behind him caught his attention.

“Is that Y/n Y/l/n and the Winter Soldier?”

Bucky’s whole body stiffened. Being recognized in public never went well for him.

“Can’t be,” a second voice scoffed, also male, though a bit deeper in tone. They were further back in the line than Bucky realized, his super solider senses picking up what you didn’t readily hear yourself. “Why the hell would a dime like that be on a date with a psychopath?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and he hadn’t noticed your eyes catch up at him worryingly.

“Bucky? Are you alright?” you glanced back down the line and though you couldn’t find any threats. You could still sense his entire body tensing and you ran your hand soothingly along his arm in hopes draw away some of the strain. You knew him too well.

“Holy shit, it totally is,” the first voice echoed, a snicker in his voice as he must have caught sight of you looking back in their direction. “Wonder if she feels sorry for him...”

“You think she’s pity fucked him yet?”

Bucky visibly winced, recoiling at the man’s taunt as they snickered behind him and he could only vaguely register you running your fingers up and down his arm, the other gripping tightly to his hand.

A group of four exited the line and the two men were suddenly standing directly behind Bucky. He could hear them struggle to hold their laughs under their breath, swatting at one another to shut the other up with no success.

“Can’t believe they let him in the same team as Captain America. Didn’t know we were letting war criminals become superheroes these days,” one deeper voice went on in a hushed whisper, unable to stop himself and his friend laughed in response. Bucky felt you take in a deep breath, your grip on his hand tightening and he knew you heard.

“It’s fine, Y/n. Just ignore them,” Bucky implored, whispering low enough so only you could hear him. You shook your head, gritting at your teeth, though you did your best to do as he asked, despite how difficult these men made it.

“How many people as he killed again?”

“How the hell isn’t he locked up in a cell right now?”

“Can’t imagine why she would want to be anywhere near that freak...”

“Should probably have him committed to a mental state with the fucked up mess in his head.”

“Hydra should’ve just spared us all and killed him when they had the chance.”

That was the final straw.

Bucky winced as you spun around on your heels, dropping his hand and shoving yours hard into the man’s chest. He stumbled back a few paces and fell straight to the sidewalk.

“You wanna say that again, asshole?” you spat as the man cowered back and you stalked toward him, his friend hulling quickly him up to his feet. “You wanna talk shit about a decorated Sergeant of the United States Army?”

“N-No! Sorry ma’am!” the boy stammered out, couldn’t have been any older than twenty. Flip flops, cargo shorts, a university t-shirt. He was practically a child.

Bucky watched as cell phones sprung up from everyone in line, trained on you, as they began to recognize who you were. A few faces turned in Bucky’s direction, eyes wide in realization as many took a cautious step away from him, and he did his best to hide his face with the collar of his jacket.

He didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly reporters were swarming around the shop, bystanders shoved out of the way for cameras and microphones. The two men scrambled away and ran down the street, leaving you and Bucky at the center of flashing lights and microphones shoved in your faces.

Bucky reached out for you in the chaos, unconsciously searching for your hand. His heart only seemed to calm for a moment when he felt you grip the flesh of his right hand when the reporters started shouting questions over top of one another.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

“Tell us Agent Y/l/n, when did you start dating the Winter Soldier!”

“How long have you been together!”

“What does Captain America think!”

“What’s that arm like in bed!”

Bucky yanked you against his chest, guarding you from the camera flashes as you pushed your face into the crook of his jacket. Left arm out ahead of him acting as a shield, he attempted to push forward into the mass of reporters blocking your path but was met with too much resistance. There was no consideration to force them from his path, his public image already a nightmare without adding assaulting a journalist to the list.

The questions kept coming at you a mile a minute, and to Bucky’s relief you were able to ignore them. Until they started asking questions of a different nature.

“What are your thoughts on his dozens of war crimes!”

“Do you trust his affiliation to the Avengers!”

“What about his involvement in the attack on D.C.!”

“Do you believe he could still be working for Hydra!”

A growl ripped through you unlike Bucky had ever heard and you spun around to face the reporters, unveiling yourself from Bucky’s grasp as you shoved a hand to the microphones, swatting them away.

“Enough!” you shouted and the reporters silenced immediately. Your hand was still tied to his, gripping it tight enough to remind him you were still there even as he stood a step behind you. “You have no goddamn right to talk about him like that! James Barnes is a veteran who gave his life in service of this country! He was a prisoner of war for decades and has gone through more in his lifetime than any you could begin to imagine! He’s kind and selfless and the best man I know, so show some goddamn respect!”

With that, you whipped back around, hair flipping over your shoulders as you tugged Bucky away from the flashing cameras and stunned mass of reporters. They didn’t attempt to follow you after that.

The walk back to the tower was silent, though Bucky could feel you squeeze his hand every few paces, a careful glance up to his face. He didn’t know how to react. He knew you cared for him, he’d be a fool not to know that by now, but the way you defended him so fiercely, without even a second thought, made his legs feel weak. That footage would air on every news outlet in the city that night.

The only problem was that Eros would see it, too. Though, neither of you knew that quite yet.

***

Bucky first knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up to Monday morning training with the recruits. He had reminded you just an hour earlier when you slipped out from his bed to carefully tread back to your room for your running clothes. You had scoffed at him, feigning offense that he would even suggest you’d forget. He could still feel your fingers tickling over the bare of his back as he had curled up into the pillow for an extra hour of sleep. You promised you’d be back in time for the training.

Ten minutes past nine and still no sign of you, Bucky let out a heavy sigh and shouted for the recruits to follow him to the sparring ring.

Nearly two hours of training later, sweat dripping down his brow and a pleasant ache in his muscles, and you had yet you walk through the door.

He did his best to focus on the training, providing insight into the agent’s hand-to-hand formations and demonstrating techniques he had learned in his decades of combat. It proved rather difficult when an agent lingering near the back grumbled snide comments at every opportunity; everything ranging from Bucky’s role at an instructor to being personally offended that you weren’t here just for him to ogle at the way you looked in your workout leggings. It took most of Bucky’s self-control to make sure he still held his punches when he faced that particular agent in the ring.

“Good work today,” Bucky grunted to the young agents as he grabbed a towel and brushed it over his face, thankful it was over. He jumped over the barriers of the ring to find the agent who had been tossing a few unfavorable lines to his friends throughout the training waiting for him.

“I thought Y/n was going to join us today,” he remarked with a spiteful tone, as if Bucky’s presence had insulted him in some way. His friends snickered behind him as they watched.

Bucky rolled his eyes, his back to the agent before he turned around. “Agent Y/l/n had something come up. Maybe you should focus on the weak points in your stance rather than objectifying the best agent we have.”

A quick jag to the agent’s left side, one to his collarbone, and another to his right knee and the agent doubled over. His friends rushed forward to help him back up and Bucky chuckled to himself, exiting the gym before word got to Steve that he stepped out of line with another arrogant agent.

Bucky walked out into the kitchen for a glass of water to find the entire team gathered around the table. He paused at the threshold of the room as every pair of eyes landed on him. Tony stood at the end of the table, a solemn look upon his face and a heavy manila envelope in his hand. Bucky’s stomach dropped before he took another step forward.

“Thought you might want to see this first,” Tony said carefully and handed Bucky the envelope. Bucky stared at it for a moment, studying the folder marked with ‘To the Avengers, Signed Eros’ on the front, no return address, before he glanced back up to the team. Tony could only clench his jaw, sink down into the chair as his hand brushed over his mouth.

Trembling hands worked at the metal clips of the envelop that suddenly felt too heavy to carry. The team watched carefully as Bucky pulled a pile of pictures from the folder.

They were dark in color, lighting dim, but Bucky could make you out upon the image clear as day. Blood trailed down the side of your face, tape pressed over your mouth, and arms tied behind your back as you were clearly struggling against restraints, parts of your body blurred in the sudden movements captured in the photograph.

Bucky could hardly breathe, his chest twisting and burning, angry tears prickling in his eyes. He dropped the first photo to the floor, flipping through the rest only to find more of the same.

Photo after photo of you wincing as the flash lit the darkened room, close ups of the wound on your head where Eros must have knocked you out, a tear in your leggings at the knee, your wrists tied to the back of the chair in painful knots, red skin burning under the rope. Wide eyes, reflection of tears on your cheeks, and Bucky dropped the rest of the photos to the ground.

Paper thin and they fell with deafening sound.

The team swarmed in, each gathering a few photos to examine, to attempt to find any kind of clue to your location through the subtleties in the background of the images, but Bucky couldn’t stand to look at them any longer. He couldn’t see you like that, vulnerable, scared. It wasn’t right, didn’t sit well upon your features. He never thought he’d have to see you so afraid.

As the team argued amongst themselves over what farfetched lead to pursue first, Bucky found himself backing out of the room. He couldn’t let himself stop and think about the moment you were taken or what Eros was doing to you at this moment or how long you had been held hostage by this psychopath before anyone even realized you were gone.

There was nothing he could do but wait. Tony had the most advanced technology available outside of Wakanda, so if anyone had a chance in finding you off of these photos alone, it was him.

So, Bucky retreated to the one place he thought might be able to ground him.

He stood outside the door to your room for nearly five minutes before he let himself turn the knob. It was cold to the touch and the door squeaked as he stepped inside, something he had grown to be cautious of in the early hours of the morning when he’d seek you out after a particularly bad nightmare. You’d let him crawl into the bed next to you and even though he’d try to keep his body at the furthest edge of your bed, you’d still find a way to curl up against him and ease away the afflictions in his mind.

Bucky swallowed back the lump in his throat as stepped further into the room, taking in the smell of your freshly washed laundry and the faint scent of the vanilla candle you burned when you read at night. Framed pictures covered your shelves in the spaces absent of your collection of books and trinkets. Imaged of the avengers in their most human qualities; some candid, laughing and blissfully unaware of the camera, some posed, arms throw around one another, the widest smiles up their faces.

Though one in particular drew his attention. It was an image of you and Bucky; a selfie he had agreed to take after much persuasion while you were on a mission in Paris together and decided to stay an extra day after you recovered your intel. The Champs-Élysées stood in the background just over Bucky’s left shoulder. You were curled up against his side, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he let his arm drape over your shoulders.

Bucky was the only one looking at the camera though, a smile curved on his pressed lips as you looked up at him, seemingly caught mid-laugh, the brightest look in your eye he’d ever seen.

He picked up the photo, holding it carefully in his hands, as a dried flower slipped out from behind the frame, falling delicately to the floor. He bent down to retrieve it, examining it in his hand for a moment until he recognized what it was from.

It was the first elaborate party he had agreed to go to after you had spent nearly an entire week begging him to come with you. If he was honest, he only gave in after Nat showed him the dress you were going to wear; long, forest green, with gemstones in the details and a neckline that was sure to kill him. Not much else could have convinced him to put on a suit and stand around at some stuffy gala to promote a public image he knew he’d never find the favor of.

He had felt a little awkward, showing up at your room to pick you up for something as fancy as this without anything to give to you. He was still a man of his time after all, so he had clipped the end of a carnation from the vase sitting in the center of the table that Wanda had picked from the garden, and handed it awkwardly to you as you opened the door. It was the first time he saw you blush.

He couldn’t believe you actually kept it. The gala was nearly a year ago.

“Buck?”

Breath caught in his throat, Bucky set the frame and the flower back on the shelf before turning around to find Steve leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey Steve.”

“We’re gonna find her,” he said, knowing exactly the train of agonizing thoughts swarming in Bucky’s mind.

“What if we don’t? What if this is it and I never told her that I--” he sucked in a breath, unable to finish the sentence aloud. “I can’t lose her, Stevie. I can’t...”

“I know,” Steve sighed. “Tony’s got everyone on this. All we can do is wait.”

Bucky nodded, but found he couldn’t seem to meet his friend’s eye. He sat on the edge of your bed, hands clenching at his knees as the bed dipped slightly when Steve took a seat next to him.

He didn’t know how long they sat there together in silence, could have been hours as far as Bucky knew. Steve’s hand would find its way onto Bucky’s shoulder every so often, just enough to offer him a light squeeze, remind him he was there when he noticed Bucky’s breathing increase a little too harshly.

Then, a subtle knock on the door and Bucky turned to find Nat standing just beyond the frame.

“Suit up. We’ve got something.”

***

Bucky woke to a blinding pulse at the back of his head. Struggling to adjust to the dim lighting of the room, he reached to the nape of his neck and touched a sticky wet substance. He didn’t need to inspect his fingers to know they’d be marked in red.

As he tried to stand, he found that he was met with a resistance in his left arm. Narrowed eyes glanced down to find his wrist secured to the wall, bound by a thick titanium band bolted into the cement.

He cursed under his breath, slumping down into the floor. He tried to think back to what had gone wrong, but his memory was hazy. He remembered enough to know that Tony’s AI had located the general vicinity Eros was holding you within a five mile radius and the team had split up to cover the most ground. Bucky took the north east quadrant on his own, despite Steve’s protests.

Whatever got him, he never saw it coming. Though, a concentrated burning in his side told him he’d been hit by a taser. Eros must have got him over the head when he was incapacitated by the electricity in his veins. A coward’s offense.

As Bucky’s eyes began to adjust to the room and he sucked in a harsh breath at what he saw.

Hand developed photographs were stung around the room in rows crossing above his head, taped against the wall, and throw along the floors. Some that he recognized from the day Tony had introduced the team to Eros, others from various locations around the city, some from before Bucky even knew you back when you were living in Queens near your cousin.

Though, there were a few, ones with dark red borders that caught his attention. Ones that made his stomach drop and left a deep unsettling ache in his chest.

Pictures of you with him.

Eros had written LIAR and TRAITOR over the images of you and Bucky in your tactical gear emerging from the helicarrier after a mission in Paris, over images of you walking next to Bucky down the busy streets back when he was sure to keep a careful distance from you, across pictures of you sitting next to Bucky in central park the day you had convinced him to start reading the Harry Potter books.

Labels of WHORE and SLUT carved upon images of you staring fondly at Bucky across a table in the café in Brooklyn you loved so much, upon images of the brief moments you had gathered his hand in yours in public, and over smiling faces as he had pretended to struggle to keep up with you on your morning jog. Stolen moments when you thought no one could see, not even Bucky.

In every image, his face was burned out with the hot edge of a lighter.

Suddenly, a sharp clicking at the door rang out into the room and Bucky recognized it as the locks unfastening. He steadied himself, back straight against the wall though he had no leverage sitting on the floor. His arm affixed to the cement didn’t allow for much else.

The door creaked open slowly and a muffled grunt echoed in from the hall. Some kind of commotion; a struggle, maybe. Bucky narrowed his eyes, craning his neck to get a better view, when the door slammed against the adjacent wall. His heart leapt at the sound, though nothing was quite like the twist of dread in his stomach at what followed.

You were thrown into the room, sliding hard on your shoulder and hip as you fell to the ground. Your arms were bound in front of you, wrists red and raw beneath the ropes, and blood dripped from the side of your face. Sweat gleamed over your skin, left in your workout gear though there was a tear at the knee, just as in the pictures he had seen earlier that day. A thick swatch of silver tape covered over your lips, muffling the groan you let out as you struggled to your feet. Otherwise, you appeared unharmed, though Bucky still struggled to catch his breath at the sight of you in chains.

A man Bucky assumed to be Eros stalked in behind you and grabbed a firm hold of your wrists, yanking you forcefully to the center of the room where he hooked the cuffs to a latch in the floor. Once secure, Eros backed away, admiring his work.

He was nothing like Bucky imagined him to be; tall, an incredibly average looking man, with thick rimmed glasses and a white button-down shirt. He looked like he had a stable job in an IT start up, albeit a maybe few social limitations, but entirely normal nonetheless. He could have been following you for years and you’d never pay him a second glance. He blended into the background with ease.

The way in which Eros watched you, a sickening smirk upon his lips, enjoying the way your breaths panted in your chest as you tried to brush the sweat from your forehead with your exposed shoulder, only to smear it further on your face.

You were on your knees, bent over to ease at the pain in your wrists. Tugging at the restraints, a heavy exhale left your lips when it didn’t budge. You slumped over onto your hip, an aura of exhaustion and defeat in your features.

Slowly, in agonizing pace, Bucky watched as you took notice of the pictures, eyes falling on the images he shared with you and a surge of panic in the hue of your iris. Your hand right hand curled into a fist to stop the sudden tremors.

Then, before Bucky could quite prepare for it, your eyes landed on him. You let out a guttural cry, though it was muffled against the tape secured over your mouth, as you tugged forcefully at the restraints. You tried to scramble towards him, but you were pulled back by the clang of the metal chain latching taunt.

His name upon your lips was subdued by the tape, your eyes wide and fearful as you looked him over. Bucky’s heart was pounding terribly in his chest, painfully so, as you winced against your bindings the more you attempted to reach him.

“Y/n, look at me. It’s okay,” Bucky urged, as the bindings on your wrist cut through and blood began to drip down to your fingertips. “We’re going to be okay, you hear me? We’re okay.”

You froze for a second, just meeting his eye and Bucky swore he saw a world of pain masked behind your irises. You shook your head subtly as eyes began to redden in the strain. You didn’t believe him. He wasn’t so sure he believed himself.

“Now the real fun can begin,” Eros grinned, stepping away from the wall as he moved to kneel by your side. His hand traced down the side of your cheek and you flinched away, shooting him a glare “Do you like the present I brought you? I thought you’d be happy I retrieved your plaything for you.”

Bucky watched as Eros stood slowly to his feet, a sinister look in his eye. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a long, black rod. He flicked the switch at the bottom and a buzzing sound filled the room, sparks of electricity bursting between the metal prongs at the end.

“Why don’t we have a little fun with him?” Eros smirked as he admired the taser. “It’s seven times the standard issue volts. Should be enough to bring down a super solider, don’t you think?”

You shook your head, words smothered by the tape over your mouth as you struggled to reach Bucky. The chains pulled you back every time.

Bucky met your eye for a moment, silently telling you he could take it, and maybe a part of him did believe that until Eros plunged the taser into his side.

His entire body tensed, slumping down to the floor, rigid, unable to control his limbs as jolts of energy eroded at his muscles. Convulsing tremors, breath caught in his lungs, he could hardly register your stifled screams. It brought him right back to the chair, to Hydra. There was no end in sight.

Then, relief as Eros pulled the taser away and the faint smelt of burnt flesh stung in Bucky’s nostrils. He laid on the floor, motionless.

“This is your hero?” Eros spat at you, nudging Bucky with the tip of his shoe, his body lifelessly slumping back down against the ground when he pulled his foot away, unable to move. “This is the asshole you've been parading around the city with? Huh? This pathetic excuse for a man? When you could be with me?!”

You screamed against the tape, tears brimming in your eyes as Eros brought the taser down to small stretch of skin exposed on Bucky’s collarbone. There wasn’t even a moment to prepare himself before the electricity surged through him again, rendering him completely helpless to the charge. Muscles stiff, body twitching, eyes rolling behind his head, and all he could focus on was your muffled cries.

Eros didn’t let up until he had grown tired of hearing you cry for another man and released Bucky from the electric waves in his veins. He crossed the room and ripped the tape from your mouth. You recoiled at the sudden stinging, clenching your jaw as red marks were left behind on your skin.

Bucky panted, attempting to catch his breath as he slowly hulled himself back to a sitting position. His muscles were too weak, he could barely lift his flesh arm. He weighed thousands of pounds, and his eyes were falling heavy. Brain too fuzzy.

“What do you want with him?” you demanded, voice broken and raw, as your eyes quickly flashed down to Bucky; a lifetime of guilt and apologies swimming in your eyes that took him off guard.

“The question isn’t what I want with him,” Eros responded, “but rather, what you want from him that matters here.”

You narrowed your eyes, glancing up at Eros for only a moment. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Eros shrugged, though there was a coy expression in his lips. “I need you to convince me he won’t come between us. I have seen the way he watches you. I know of his feelings for you. He’s corrupting you, my love; convinced you that he’s some kind of hero when we all know what he truly is. He’s trying to keep us apart; don’t you see that? I can't let that happen to us. I won’t let him take you from me.”

With that, Eros reached into a drawer nestled in the corner of the room and pulled out a handgun. You swallowed thickly, exchanging a nervous glance with Bucky. Eros cocked the gun, clicked off the safety, and in one foul movement, aimed the barrel right at Bucky’s head. Your eyes blew wide as a gasp left your breath.

Eros smirked. “I’m going to free him of us for good. “

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as an unsteady breath came in through his nose, preparing for the worst, when he heard you scream.

“NO!”

Eros raised an eyebrow, a twitch in his eye as he stared at you. He hadn’t expected that. He wanted you to fall into his fantasy, to be the woman he made you out to be, who would be relieved that he had destroyed the man who was keeping you from him.

Bucky opened his eyes again, watching the exchange between you and Eros; the way your hands trembled as you closed them into fists, the displeased look upon Eros’ face.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t,” Eros grumbled.

Then, your face hardened, a seeming realization passing over you that Bucky didn’t catch onto. You took in an even breath, straightening your shoulders as you turned to face Eros, a purse in your lips as you glanced over Bucky from the corner of your eye.

“Don’t you want the satisfaction that I chose you over him?” you said breathily and Eros narrowed his eyes, waiting for you to continue. You licked at your lips, keeping your eyes trained on Eros. “There’s no reason to kill him. He's not worth the bullet. He’s not worth anything.”

Bucky swallowed back the bile in this throat, an awful pang in his stomach. He knew you were feeding into the man’s fantasy to bide time but hearing the words come from you, in your voice, hurt more than Bucky was able to hide. Eros must have noticed the way Bucky’s eyes darted to the ground and he sneered, urging you on.

“He’s nothing to me. Nothing,” you pressed, urgency in your voice as Eros took another step in Bucky’s direction, gun still aimed at his head. Your eyes widened as Bucky felt the cool metal of the barrel against his temple. “I was- I was using him! He’s nothing but something to pass the time with. You think I would actually want to be with him? An ex-Hydra hitman with a fucked up brain who can’t even get through a night without crawling into my bed? He’s practically a child. I have no interest in babysitting a grown man.”

A grin tugged at Eros’ lips and he let the barrel of his gun drop just enough for an audible exhale of relief to pass over your lips. Bucky clenched at his jaw, muscles aching in the effort. It didn’t matter how many times he told himself you were lying, that you’d never think those things of him, the pain in his chest only seemed to grow.

“Tell him how you really feel,” Eros demanded.

You didn’t respond, though Bucky could feel your eyes on him, begging him to look at you, but he couldn’t find the strength. His name passed over your lips, a breath so quiet he was sure not even Eros could hear it. He had always cherished the way his name came from your voice, like it was something precious, something that could be loved, adored. But now, it was broken, afraid, aching for a forgiveness he had absolved before the words had even left your tongue.

“Say it to his face!”

Harsh hands took a tight hold of Bucky’s hair, sharp pain in his scalp, yanking him up to meet your eye despite his protests. Bucky could do nothing to fight against him, limbs too weak from the remnants of electricity in his muscles. Eros hulled him like a rag doll, gun pressed up into Bucky’s throat. He tried to swallow, but found it too restricted by the barrel.

Your eyes were wide, fear dilating your pupils, unable to speak. Until the echo of the safety clicking off pierced through the silence of the room.

“You mean nothing to me.”

The words spilled from your lips, barely above a whisper. Bucky’s heart ached as you looked him dead in the eye, willing the emotion from your face as you put on the façade for Eros he so craved.

“I don’t want you. I could never want you,” you continued, struggling to keep your voice flat.

“Good, good,” Eros urged you on.

“You’re weak and- and pathetic.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes and Bucky tried to find a way to tell you he knew, that it was okay, that he understood why you were saying what you did, that he could handle it even if it stung, even if the words lingered in the back of his head after this was all over.

These words were never meant to come from you. He'd heard them before, on the streets from strangers, from the men at Hydra, in his own head. He knows these words well. He never wanted to imagine what they’d sound like in your voice, even if you only spoke them to save his life.

“Keep going,” Eros purred, readjusting his grip in Bucky’s hair, forcing him to wince at the sting in his scalp. “You know exactly what to say.”

You paused, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“You’re a monster. You’re broken and irredeemable and you will never be good enough for me.” Your voice cracked as you spoke the words you had once sworn so adamantly against. You had spent months reminding him at every opportunity that he was more than what Hydra made him, that he was worthy of love, that he was a good man with a kind heart who was dealt the worst cards imaginable.

It felt like all of that was being wiped away in a matter of minutes.

Eros released Bucky’s hair long enough to cross the room to kneel down by your side, his hand jutting out to grab a firm hold of your chin, yanking you to face him. He glared at the tears falling down the sides of your face like they had offended him. A snarl slipped past his lips.

“I don’t believe you,” he spat, shoving you back to the ground.

Eros had crossed the plane of the room before Bucky could realize what was happening and he turned on the television, sliding in a VHS tape to the opening at the bottom. Bucky watched you carefully, taking note of the way you couldn’t look in his direction, eyes focused on the floor.

The white and grey fuzz in on the screen soon transitioned into an image of you standing in front of a series of microphones. Bucky narrowed his eyes, watching as Eros hit play and your voice echoed through the room. It was from the day you had defended Bucky to the journalists in front of the ice cream shop. They played iPhone footage a bystander captured of you shoving the college kid out of the line after he and his friend took their comments a step too far, then switched to your impromptu press conference.

“He’s kind and selfless and the best man I know-” your voice rang out before Eros hit pause, rewinding it again.

“He’s kind and selfless and the best man I know-”

You winced at every line; every scratch of the tape as it rewound to play again. Eros stood with his hands crossed over his chest, a rage building in his eye with every word. He paused the recording and Bucky caught sight of the way your hand clasped into his came into view in the bottom corner of the screen in between transitions in the chyron.

“Does that look like a woman who believes an ounce of the bullshit you just tried to push off on me!” Eros roared, shoving the tv off the stand and it fell to the ground with a thud heavy enough for Bucky to wince. The screen cracked, jets of green and blue obstructing the image of the tape until it flickered and faded to black.

“He’s manipulating you! Don’t you see that!?” Eros crossed the room, yanking the gun from his jeans once again and aiming it in Bucky’s direction.

“No! Please, I’ll do anything!” you begged, a sob cracking in your voice as you threw aside all pretenses of the façade. “I’ll- I’ll stay with you! I won’t try to run! Just, please, don’t hurt him!”

“Pathetic,” Eros spat, kicking away your hand as you reached for him. “You have no idea what he’s done to you!”

Eros straightened his back, a steady breath in as he adjusted the positioning of his weapon, clicking back the safety. “Once he’s gone, you’ll see.”

Bucky was only able to meet your eye for a moment before the deafening sound of the gunfire rang through the encased space. There was a terrible ache in his stomach, though he found he couldn’t quite focus on that with you screaming just a few feet away from him, tears falling down your face as you yanked against the chains binding you to the floor.

He only stared at you, watching intently as a ringing buzzed his in ears, muffling your cries. He wondered briefly why you were so upset when his right hand reached to touch the pain in his stomach and his fingers were coated in blood. Bringing his hand out in front of him, he examined the red glistening against his skin and his vision started to blur.

He slumped down onto his back, a faint chuckling registering as Eros crouched over him. Bucky could hardly keep his eyes open and even through his haze, he knew your face was the last thing he wanted to see when the darkness took him in; the tender look behind your eyes he had come to adore, the curve of your nose, the faded scar on your forehead from your first mission together, the hue of your lips. He just needed to see you one last time.

Bucky turned his head away from Eros to find your eyes bloodshot in red, blood oozing from your wrists, as you desperately tried to reach him with no avail. Tears streamed down your face and you were screaming, words he couldn’t quite understand, as he felt the cool edge of a barrel press to his temple. Eros smirked.

Then suddenly, a loud bang and Bucky watched hazily as your attention diverted to the door. A second gunshot rang out and Eros was suddenly on the floor.

Bucky’s lids were falling too heavy, he could hardly make out the sound of at least four sets of footsteps racing into the room. As he struggled to push his eyes open, he found a blur of red hair, hands working at the cuff on his left wrist with a laser.

His chest felt heavy. Each breath harder to take in. He let his eyes fall shut.

Then, he was being shaken forcefully, his left arm fallen to his side away from the wall, and he jolted his eyes open again to find you hovering over him. Steve stood just above your shoulder attempting to draw you away gently, though you clung onto Bucky with all you had.

Your hands gripped into his jacket, tears falling into his suit.

“Don’t do this! Don’t leave me! P-Please, Bucky! I need you to- to stay awake... Please!” you sobbed and Bucky wanted nothing more than to reach up and brush his hand over the side of your face, capturing the tears with his thumb as they fell, but his arm was too heavy. He couldn’t lift it.

He tried to nod, to tell you he’d do anything and everything you asked, but instead, his lids began to fall. The last thing he saw was Steve lunging down to scoop you into his arms as you kicked and screamed against him, desperate to throw yourself back towards Bucky.

Hands gripped under his body and then, he was floating.

***

Bucky woke to an influx of white light and a steady, high pitched beeping. He groaned, squinting his eyes as he attempted to adjust to the room, only to recognize it as the med bay of the avenger's compound. A quick glance to his left and he saw the red line on the monitor displaying his heart rhythm. To his right, you sat curled up in a chair, your hand grasping his as you slept and Bucky could hear the beeping pick up in pace as he finally took notice of your intertwined fingers.

He sank back into his bed, a semblance of relief passing over him as he let his thumb brush over your hand. Your nose scrunched in your sleep, adjusting your position in this chair Bucky could only wonder how you’d been able to find rest in. The days Bucky found himself in your position, he’d be leaning so far over the bed, he’d practically be on top of you just trying to find a position that didn’t kill his back.

He barely even noticed the lingering ache in his stomach when he looked at you.

“She’s been here for two days.”

Steve stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as his lips curved into a soft smile. Bucky exhaled, nodding. He should have known. At least someone convinced you to shower and put on some fresh clothes. Cho must have wrapped your wrists as well and attended to the wound on your head. It brought him some peace to know you had been looked after while he slept.

“What happened?” he asked groggily, his voice raspier than he realized. His left hand ghosted over the bandages wrapped around his stomach.

Steve sighed, stepping further into the room, his arms folding over his chest. “Red Wing caught sight of you through a small crack in the foundation of the wall and alerted us to your coordinates, but we were too late. By the time we heard the gunshot, we had just entered the building. Eros was leaning over you, had a gun to the side of your head, and Nat didn’t hesitate to take the shot. Sam untied Y/n and... Buck, you should have seen her. I could barely get her away from you long enough for Sam and Clint to hull you out to the quinjet. She was inconsolable. She really thought you were gone. We... we all did for a minute there.”

Bucky nodded eyes flickering over to you, a semblance of a smile as he memorized the way your hair brushed over your cheek, lips twitching in your sleep. You looked so peaceful like that. He couldn’t imagine being the source of your pain.

“You should tell her how you feel.”

Bucky swallowed, not daring to look Steve in the eye, though he didn’t bother denying it.

“I’ve seen a lot in my time, Buck,” Steve continued, “but, the look on her face when Clint and Sam carried you away, the way she fought me, just trying to get back to you... it’s not something I will easily forget. It was the look of someone who lost everything.”

“What if it changes things?”

“Isn’t that the point?” Steve smiled and he nodded in your direction. Bucky followed his eyes to find you stirring in the chair, your free arm stretching high above your head as you yawned. When Bucky looked back to ask Steve what he should say, he was already gone. So, Bucky found himself waiting anxiously, heart monitor beeping a little faster, as you opened your eyes.

It took a moment before you realized he was awake. Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line, the ends curving up ever so slightly. The shades of your eyes fell upon him and your entire body froze. You sucked in a gasp, and suddenly your breaths were coming in too fast, eyes darting across his face as they blurred in glossy tears.

“I’m okay,” Bucky said carefully, wincing at how broken his voice came out. He squeezed your hand as you brushed the tears from your cheeks. “Y/n, I’m fine, doll. Please don’t cry...”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky... I’m so sorry,” you cried and Bucky felt a horrible ache in his heart. He tugged on your intertwined hand until he could pull you to the side of the bed, bringing you close enough to hold you against his side. Despite the pain in his abdomen, he adjusted himself on the bed, moving over to provide you the room to lay next to him.

“Please don’t apologize, doll, I’m doing just fine,” Bucky soothed as you curled up against him, your face buried in the crook of his neck and he could feel the wet of your tears drip onto his skin.

“He almost killed you, Buck. After- after all those horrible things I said to you,” you shook your head against him, unable to hear him. He’d been in your place too many times, been on the end of an inescapable misplaced guilt and self-loathing, and you’d always known what to say to bring him back. He hoped he could provide even an ounce of that for you.

“I know you didn’t mean ‘em, sweetheart,” Bucky said sincerely, brushing his hand over your forehead to draw the hair away from your eyes.

“But I said them, Buck. I said them and- and then you almost died! It coulda been the last things you heard me say and you didn’t- you didn’t deserve that.”

“Y/n...”

“I love you,” you confessed suddenly and Bucky swore his heart fully stopped. You pulled yourself up from his chest, just enough to meet his eye. You swallowed, your eyes capturing his and he swore he saw a flicker of a smile upon your tear stained lips.

“I am fully, and honestly, in love with you,” you continued, a brightness forming behind your eyes as you spoke that took Bucky’s breath away. “You are everything to me. You’re my best friend, Buck, and I don’t ever want to spend a day without you. I’m... I’m sorry it took until my deranged stalker nearly killed us to tell you that.”

Bucky surprised himself when a chuckle escaped past his lips, easing the tension in your face. You laughed back, the absurdity of the situation finally catching up with both of you. Bucky reached forward, his hand cupping around the side of your face, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

“You know I feel the same way, don’t you?” he asked nervously. “I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you.”

“Really?” you grinned and the genuine shock upon your face only seemed to make Bucky’s stomach weaker. His cheeks started to hurt from smiling. It was a new feeling.

“Sam said I’ve been obvious about it, honestly.”

“Well what does Sam know anyway?” you teased, and even if Bucky’s heart was already filled to capacity, it managed to swell a little more.

Your laugh lingered a little longer, prolonging into the silence that followed, and Bucky’s eyes flickered down to your lips. The gentle beeping over his head pulsed quicker as you leaned in closer to him, eyes darting up to his when he felt the warmth of your breath on his cheeks. With a nod so subtle he wasn’t sure you had seen it, you closed the space between you and then your lips were on his.

Warmer, softer, than he imagined; you tasted of the mocha creamer you drowned your coffee in. Bucky’s hand snaked up into your hair, pulling flush you against him as he bit and sucked at your lips, do desperate to have you near. He grunted as your weight fell onto his wound and you yelped, laughing as you tried to pull yourself off of him, though he wouldn’t budge. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

“What in the-”

You jumped off of Bucky, wiping your lips as your cheeks flushed red. Bucky chuckled, the ache lingering in his stomach as he glanced between Banner standing in the doorway and you attempting to hide red burning in your face.

“Maybe take off the heart monitor next time, kids,” Banner snickered, shaking his head with a massive grin as he disappeared down the hall again.

It only took one glance over in your direction before your lips were on his again, your body curled up against his side, careful of the wound on the left side of his torso, as he ran his hand along your back. You gripped at his right hand and pulled the heart monitor from his finger, tossing it to the floor. The beeping ceased and Bucky laughed against your lips.

“Think you can survive this, Sarge?” you panted as you peppered kisses along his jaw line.

“I’ve survived a lot in my life. I’m sure I’ll be okay,” Bucky grinned, cupping the sides of your face to bring you back to his lips. He pressed a simple, chaste kiss to your mouth before he pulled back, just enough to memorize the swollen look of your lips and the loving daze in your eye. “But, if this takes me out, I think I’m okay with that.”

“Shut up,” you giggled pushing forward to kiss him again and he didn’t mind one bit.

“You and me, doll. We’re going to be okay,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, drinking you in and reveling in the feel of you. It was heaven. It was home.

You pulled back for only a second, lips red and flushed, and hands grazing over the sides of his face. He’d never seen eyes as warm and loving as yours. You nodded with a smile beaming on your face.

“We’re going to be okay.”

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #my writing #bucky fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #yourmarvelousthoughtswc

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huearmy · 4 years

Text

The Smell of Truth - II

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 3291

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: N/A. Jungkook continues to be just a cute pie here ok dont touch me.

Chapter I - Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII

You have always been enchanted by hybrids. You grew up surrounded by them, they were friends and family. Literally. For exemple, your favorite uncle adopted your cousin, a cat hybrid, when you were five and she was three, he and his wife wanted a second child but could't have one biologically anymore, and you got a friend as a gift. You never saw your cous being treated diferently from her older sister, indeed they were equaly loved by the whole family. You two would run and play for hours together.

You learned some diferences between you and hybrids when living with your cousin in childhood. The first one was that you, unfortunately, don't have fluffy beautiful ears and tail like they do, more than once your mother needed to comfort you before going to sleep cuz you were crying, wanting to be cute too. The second was that you were always at a disadvantage in games like hide and seek and tag you it, but you still had fun. The third is that hybrids can't go to school like normal kids. Until a certain age you were home schooled, taking classes with a tutor, when you turned eleven things changed a little bit, and you started studying at an elite college. Your world expanded, you started to study more hours a day and met new people, new teachers, classmates, you made new friends that gradually showed you a cruel world that you didn't know. Most of your friends were also daughters of politicians and entrepreneurs, just like you, and just like you, they grew up surrounded by hybrids. But while they were family to you, to your classmates they were butlers, maids, pets. Soon you started to understand the injustice of it all, of why you were bullied when you talked about your cousin, why you didn't like to go to some friends' house where you would see them treating their hybrids coldly.

The last straw came when you were fourteen, more specifically your birthday. Until then you kept your friends from meeting your cousin, for fear that the situation would be strang, but it was you birthday, you wanted all your friends in your sleepover, including her. At the beginning of the night you were apprehensive, but your friends did nothing but find your cousin cute and be kind to her, so you relaxed. Everything was going well until one of her best friends decided that she liked your cousin so much that she was going to "ask her father to buy her".Your cousing didn't understand at the time, it was the first time that she was treated as something and not as a person. You were so angry that the party ended right there, most girls left, even though it was two-thirty in the morning. Days later you were expelled from school for getting involved in a fight and assaulting one of the girls who used the wrong word to define your family. You went back to school at home, with the best private tutors, and the world outside was no longer so beautiful. That's how you, already in college, joined a radical activist group for the sake of hybrids.

The concept of owning someone was disgusting for you, that's why you never adopted any hybrid, just fought to free them, in and out of law.That's why you don't recognizes yourself in the decision of getting Jungkook home. But here are you, driving your SUV with him sitting next to you in the passenger's seat. You want the best for each hybrid you have ever rescued, but never before have you been so involved that you are directly responsible for one as you are now doing with him.

Jungkook have followed you to your car, where you gave him a oversized hoodie of yours to wear - the nigth got cold - and snacks that you had prepared for your trip back home. He was really entertained comparing flavors of three diferent chips, that he didn't even noticed when your black outlaw clothes are gone, replaced by a summer dress in a cardigan. Well, he couldn't remember the last time he had a chance to eat chips, it was probably when he was a kid, and there weren't that many flavors. Of couse, he was refraining from asking you too many questions, that were filling your head like: How is house? Will it be long before we arrive? Do you live with someone else? Do you have other hybrids? Do you do these jobs every night? ... But he kept silent, like a good boy.You said the drive to your city would take about two hours, that he could sleep, but he wanted to keep awake and looking out the window at the landscape, the trees he had never seen so many together and other cars, once in a while passing by with their lights on. It would be beautiful during the day too, he thought. The music playing softly on the radio is also cool.

"Ok." You brake the silence. "We have sometime before we get home, we can talk and get to know each other until then."

Jungkook took a sip of his soda before answering.

"To know each other?"

"Yeah. Like a game where we tell things about ourselves and ask each other something..."

"Got it. How do I win this game?" Jungkook got excited.

"It wasn't supposed to be a competition." You laughed, and then got thoughtful. "If you make a question you got one point. If you tell a fact about yourself without being asked you got two points..."

"Whoever has the most points wins. Ok." Jungkook softly clapped his hands with a happy soud coming from his mouth, the gesture doesn't go unnoticed by you. You showd him where to find paper and pen in the glove compartment for him to write down the points. In one side of the page he writed your initials and in the other, his - JK.

"I go first. Hummm... My full name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm twenty-three. And you, what' is your age?"

"Woaaaa, Y/N! You already have five points, you are good at it." Jungkook excitedly wrote down your points, already thinking about what to say. "I'm twenty-two, but not for long, my birthday is in september. I'm a virgo. What's your sign?"

"Y/S." You responds. "You are into zodiac?"

"Not exactly. But it was a fact about me." Jungkook smile to you making you look away from the road for a moment longer than insurance so you can look at the dimples under his eyes. "Among these three chip flavors, which is your favorite?" "Both cheddar and bacon, I can't choose between them" You answered without hesitation. "Actually I love cheddar and bacon in any context. Did you decided wich one you like the most?"

Jungkook thoughtfully compared the chip packs.

"Nope. I like them all together. I like sweets more. Do you live with someone else?" Jungkook took the courage to ask something that was really on his mind.

"No, is just me in my apartament. But theres always a friend or relative visiting me, almost everyday. "

Jungkook he felt a confusion of feelings, he did not know if he should be happy or disappointed that you lived alone, and as a result, that he will live only with you. It would be nice if you live with siblings or your parents if they are good like you, but at same time if they are bad he prefers to be with just you.

"How is your family?" He asked before you could make your next question.

"They are great." You said, your tone of voice and eyes ligthing up with affection. "I'm single child, but my family is quite big. We are all focused on progressive thinking of liberating hybrids. That's why I'm part of activist groups ... Of course, only I do this more clandestine work, and my mother doesn't even know. She would be crazy worry. You will like them I think. I have like six cousins, two girls and four guys... Oh my God, they will tease me so much for bringing a boy to live with me..."

Clearly your family is a trigger for you to talk non-stop. Jungkook concluded that your family must be really cool, for you to like them so much, making him wanting to know them too. It got him a little nervous. What would them think about him? Your talking makes your family look amazing, while he’s no big deal. Worse than being uninteresting is not being liked, and there are really bad things about him ... More bad than good things actually. Your family not liking him is scary, and thinking that you might know about his bad past and not liking him any longer suddenly made him anxious.

You were bragging about your great-aunt's cooking skills when noticed Jungkook got too quiet.

"You are ok, Jungkook?"

He looked at you awkwardly, eyes round like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Yes."

"Sorry I talked too much." You let a weak laugh out, feeling embarrassed. "Is your turn now. Go ahead."

Jungkook looked through the window, avoiding looking to you.

"I don't know what else I have to say... You already won anyway." He showed you the score, your inicials with no space left to write down points.

"Oh I bet you have a lot of things to say."

"Not good things." Jungkook dared to say, already regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth.Your voice softned.

"You don't need to tell me anything you are not ready to tell. Even if you're never ready. But I know that you are a person, and people are made up of many things, not just bad things." A moment of silence followed, you thinking about the next thing to say. "If you don't want to talk about past things... Lets talk about the future. What do you want to have for lunch tomorrow?"

________________________________________________________________

At some point Jungkook finally fell asleep. You drove an entire hour alone, slowly sipping an energy drink, his soft snores beside you not letting you forget about his presence. Everything you want is to sleep too, your eyes heavy, your body numb. You were thinking of it an how you would be in your bed about time, in your fluffy pijamas and warm socks, when blue and red lights appeared in your rear view mirror.

You pulled over and waited to the cop to come closer to lower the window

."Good nigth, officer."

You greeted in a low voice.The man just nodded writing down your license plate.

"Do you know why I made you pull over?" He said, louder than you.

"No, sir." You calmly answered, shrugging. "I was not above the speed limit and my tail lights are ok."

He made an approving sound.

"Papers please."

You turned on the light and reached out to get your documents from the glove compartment, making Jungkook open his sleepy eyes with a groan.

"Y/N?" He called with a pout. The ultimate pout."Shhh. Keep sleeping, babe. We didn't arrived yet."

He obeyed immediately, leaning his head on the window, and you can tell he didn't really wake up in the first place. He was with his cap and hoodie on, so the cop couldn't see his ears and know he is a hybrid. And theis way is better, you thought.

"Your boyfriend?" The cop asked while analyzing your driver's license.Time to improvise with your acting skills.

"Kind of." You timidly put a lock of hair behind your ear.He scanned the trash in the car."Any alcohol?"

"No, sir. Just energy drink and soda." You smiled.

He did the breathalyzer test on you anyway.

Since it didn't point to guilty results, you were released to continue your journey.

You took a deep breath, glad he didn't asked to inspect the car, he would surely find something that would link you to the terrorist act against the shelter, as the newspapers would for sure report the next day.

The good part is that forging Jungkook's adoption document in your name with a date prior to the rescue will be super easy, as the shelter's records blew up in the explosion. That thought made you relax and start driving normally. ________________________________________________________________

"Jungkook. Jungkook wake up." You shook his shoulder, his sleep too heavy. His head fell forward, making him jump in his spot, blinking heavily, the ultimate pout making another appearance. "We arrived, Jungkook."

Jungkook slowly regained consciousness, seeing you standing outside the car, beside him, holding the door open for him to get out.

"We're at home?." His face got bright.

"Yeah. Come."

It was a courtyard at the back of a small old building, it was still early in the morning, the sky was still dark and no one in town was awake. You turned on the car alarm, and guided a still sleepy but very attentive to the details of the new place, Jungkook, to the back door of the building, taking the bunch of keys out of his pocket - of your hoodie that he was wearing. He liked the proximity, the soud of the keys and the smell of the place. Actually the smell was pretty amazing, specially when you opened the door and everything inside got your smell, and others good things.

You noticed his nose working in the air and laughed.

"Is a flower shop. Do you like it?" You asked.

Something made sense to Jungkook, it's not that the place smelled like you, you smelled like flowers because of the place.

"Yeah. Is pretty good." He said still sniffing the air.

"On the first floor we have the shop, on the second the shop office and a photo studio that I rent to a friend... And on the third and fourth is our home." You tell him as you go up the stairs, he following you closely. "Early on, both the store and the office are open, but this should not be a problem if you want to sleep till late."

"Ok."

You two whispered up to the third floor, a small corridor with two doors on one side and windows on the other. You stepped forward to the first door, the entrance to the living room and struggled to fide the rigth key in the dark.

Jungkook noticed a faint light coming from under the door and a murmur inside. There was someone in there. He got alert and slightly apprehensive.

You finally oppened the door and got inside, dropping your heavy bag on the floor, the keys in the corner table, kicking off your boots. Jungkook got inside with short steps, looking around cautiously, looking for the person who would ambush you both. The light was the TV... He smelled a cat.

"Y/n?" A sweet and sleepy voice reached your ears, a little form lifted on the couch. A sniffing soud and the sweet voice got hostile. "Who is this?"

"Yeri, you are here." You smiled, not really caring for the mood changing of her. Jungkook stepped behind you a little. "This is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Yeri, my cousin."

"Hi." Jungkook tryied.

"What's he doing here? You never brought anyone home ..."

And by anyone she meant hybrids, and Jungkook knows it. He couldn't see her face in the dark, just her luminous cat eyes with vertical pupils, the dominant presence of those who had their territory invaded radiating from her.

"There is always a first time I guess." You say, still ignoring the awkward atmosphere, taking off your cardigan and hanging it on the rack behind the front door. "Are you in the guest room?"

Yeri got up and turned off the TV.

"No. I'm sleeping with you."Clearly she didn't trust Jungkook yet. If you bet, she was ready to sleep in the guest room, but now she decided to sleep with you to protect you from the stranger.

"Ok." You said.

"Ok." She said.

She turned on the light in the corridor, taking a few steps to the top floor, with bare feet and cute pijamas, and then stopped looking at Jungkook. Now he could see her face. The scariest cat he has ever seen. "Welcome to the family." And than she disappeared up the stairs.

Jungkook gulped, not sure what to think about it.

"She liked you." You told him, putting a hand in the small of his back.

"How do you know?" He asked you with round eyes.

"She didn't say she disliked you." You smiled. "Yeri is pretty honest about her feelings."

You took him to a room in the hall, with a messy cat-smelling bed in the middle, an empty desk and an armchair close to the window, and an empty closet. Beside the bed on the floor was an open handbag , with women's clothing showing up.

"She said she wasn't going to sleep here..." Jungkook pointed.

"Yeah, she lied about it. She wouldn't let me put you to sleep on the couch, though..." You went down the hall and came back with another blanket. "Aaaand, this will be your room. You'd better get used to it."

You fixed the sheets and changed the blanket and pillowcases, probably to help with the cat smell, odorless bedding help to make the bed more of him.

"That's what I can offer you for now, after all I wasan't expecting to adopt you. We can fix it later." You tiredly said, picking Yeri's bag from the floor.

"Ah... Don't worry.". Jungkook wanted to say he was already happy with what he got, that being adopted in firts place was more than he expected, that he was greatfull of your caring so far. But he couldn't find the words to put in on.

"Good, bucause I'm dead tired... I need to sleep, and you do too." You gave him a pat in his back, and went to the door. "If you need it, theres a bathroom in the end of the corridor. Good night." And than you closed the door behind you.

Jungkook waited for the sound your staps desapeard to start moving and breathing again. He was in his room! He ran to the window and opened the curtains a little to see outside, it seemed to be a main street in a small town, but Jungkook had never stepped in a small town before to have reference. He tryied the armchair and conclued it was confortable enouth to take a nap on it. The closet was big enough for him to fit in - he tested it - another possible place for good naps. With leaps of joy he imagined all the things he could kept there, the clothes and shoes he didn't have yet but dream of having. Fantasizing about when you were going to take him to shopping, he put the hat on one of the top shelves and closed the double doors carefully, to make any noise. And then threw himself on the bed, scenting the sheets, sighing contentedly. He took off his shoes and placed beside the bad, his wallet in the nigthstand - open like a picture frame, showing the photo of two hybrid little boys embracing and smiling - , and the suffed bunny lying next to him with it's own pillow.

All in this room felt so real to him, as much as your smell. If you said it will be his room so it's true, because se believe in you, and he is so happy.With the thought of a bright future with you Jungkook finally fell asleep again.

___________________________________________________________

Tag list: @stayunderthelights @deolly @panconte

___________________________________________________________

Thakyou!!! Let me know if you liked it... <3 <3 <3 This is a sub blog so I wont respond coments, but I read it all.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts hybrid fic #bts blog #bts fluff #hybrid bts #hybrid jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #bts angst #dog jungkook #bangtanshadowfamily

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the-moon-prince · 3 years

Text

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter V

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

This chapter contains a mention of sexual abuse. I understand how hurtful this topic may be to a lot of people (me included). Likewise, I'll mark it at the start and the end, so you don't have to read it if you prefer. I made sure for people to be able to read the chapter without reading forcefully that part. I added this as a form of venting. I feel like it's an avoided topic, and it's my form to show support to other trauma survivors. This was made with the only intention to comfort. If something is bad written or harmful, please tell me. I also ask for your understanding if you plan on commenting, thank you very much!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story. (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter VI coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 888

TW: Mentions of sexual abuse / Mentions of abuse ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) appeared more comfortable around Kurapika. Occasionally letting their ears escape while staying in the privacy of their houses.

But there was still something mysterious about (Y/n). Some of what they didn't say. Kurapika was filled with doubts and fears because of that. He pondered scenarios, each one worse than the other. Are they lying to me? Maybe they're in some kind of danger or distress. Creating a vicious and unhealthy cycle in Kurapika's spirit.

The two were patient in the relationship, neither comprehending fully how to give or receive affection. But despite the time they had been together, (Y/n) seemed resistant to accept fondness. Particularly physical. They had never tried to hold hands. When Kurapika attempted it, they recoiled in alarm more than once. In the few hugs they had given each other, (Y/n) shivered. Loud noises made them shake and jump, and they hand a list of tics as sudden shaking chills or protectively shrugging shoulders. Kurapika could understand that, he had tics as well. But his partner seemed triggered by his touch. They continued to be protective of their eyes. It was normal they didn't meet his eyes often, however, they tried to hide her eyes whenever they looked more cat-like.

Suspicions of his beloved being at risk grew bigger. He didn't want to, he couldn't permit himself to lose someone else. What kind of cruel mockery of life would be that, when finally there was someone like him-Someone who understood and supported him-was erased from this plane. The idea that these funny tail and ears weren't going to survive grieved Kurapika. The plausibility of not seeing those (curly/wavy/messy/straight) (hair/color) strands nevermore haunted him. Undoubtedly, it didn't end there. Fury consumed him when he conceived the idea of someone injuring more further a being so humane, kind hearted, and compassionate as (Y/n). Hadn't both of them grieved enough? But what they were suffering, adding would be disastrous.

Yet, (Y/n) didn't utter a single word regarding the matter.

Kurapika entered a state of fright. At that limit, he needed at the very least to know what was going on. He showed up that night at (Y/n)'s residence, knowing that they had no guard at the hospital and that they would be there. He had a spare key and wasn't abnormal to simply arrive at the other's place. Either of them had the habit of picking phone calls or answering messages.

Except for the scene he arrived at was abnormal.

He saw (Y/n) from behind sitting on the floor, a thing they never did, and if anything was remarkable about them, it was how strict they were with their customs. They had their elbows leaning on the coffee table, looking down at something. They did not react upon his arrival. (Y/n) never missed a noise, even less the one of a door opening. Yet, they remain immobile as if the lives of the universe depended on them staying frozen in place. Kurapika approached them. To see that there was a call in progress on their phone resting upon the table. (Y/n) did not dare to see the phone directly. Their hands held their head by the forehead, their gaze hidden behind their (curls/waves/strands). Just as Kurapika opened his mouth to speak, a female voice came from the phone's speaker-"So you won't answer me?"-silence again-" My baby... I know you think I broke you..."-the voice was sweet and honeyed, full of compassion"-Who could that woman possibly be? Why did she address (Y/n) like that, what did she mean by "break". Kurapika craved to question (Y/N) what, for love for his clan, was happening. He was relucted from doing so, he could perhaps extract information from the person on the other end of the line, taking advantage of the fact that she believed that (Y/n) was alone.-"But that's not true! I didn't do anything, my love. You were born broken, your demoniac eyes are the proo-" (Y/n) abruptly cut the call before the sentence finished. They didn't turn to see Kurapika, despite knowing he was beside them.

Kurapika had his breakpoint. "What's happening (Y/n)?! Who was that?! You can't keep things as such from me?! Do you understand that?!"-he started to scold, raising his voice. His eyes would look scarlet if it weren't for the contacts he was wearing at the moment. Someone else knew about (Y/n) identity. Who can say such atrocities? On top, with such a sound and sweet voice, it was twisted. She was talking about their eyes. Did she want them? Was she behind (Y/n)'s eyes? All these questions flooded incessantly in Kurapika's mind. (Y/n) hid upthrusting their shoulders and covering their face with their hands, their whole figure was shaking. They drew their ears back and adhered the tail to their body, probably changed on instinctual reaction.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry"-(Y/n) started to lament, voice quivering. Their breaths were heavy as if it were inhumanly tough to keep breathing. Whoever the other person was, were bad enough to provoke a position of panic on (Y/n). Kurapika knew that and seeing that getting angry only seemed to affect the feeble trembling figure in front of him, he decided to calm down. He was greatly concerned that someone he esteemed as highly as (Y/n) was in that position. It was not wise to let his humor aggravate things.

He lowered himself to their level and sat down next to them. He raised his hand to stroke their hair. As soon as the tips of his fingers touched the (curls/waves/bangs/strands) he heard a heavy "Don't!" and backed up his hand.-"It's alright. I'm not touching you. Still, I require you to explain to me what happens. Who was that woman?" Besides offering physical contact, Kurapika had no distinct idea how he could comfort (Y/n). He felt frustrated and powerless.

"My mum."-they whimpered, (Y/n) was distressed although not crying. Not a single tear came out during all that night. Kurapika no longer understood.

"Weren't your parents deceased?"- He felt that they had lied to him, and it sure bothered him that he kept that from him. But this was not the time to discuss that part.

"No, my family is dead..."-(Y/n) began to breathe more calmly. They readjusted, moving their hands away from their faces to hold their arms. "They did not raise me. My grandparents did. When my grandad got ill and died I left to study. They always lived far away." -(Y/n) didn't look at Kurapika at any time. They kept their gaze at a standstill. Nevertheless, he could notice that their pupils were very dilated, reminding him of the stare of a scared soaked cat.

"What did she mean by break you?"-he continued trying to maintain a moderate voice. He was somehow scared to hear the answer. It would hurt to know that someone hurt (Y/n).

"I wasn't the legal age. Someone had to take my guard when my grandfather died."-Their face stayed still in a sober expression.

"Did they hurt you?"- He felt progressively more scared and worse.

"It's not important. I don't believe it's something you desire to know." -Even with everything happening, (Y/n) refused to speak. How could they be so obstinate?

"(Y/n), this cannot continue. I require to know. You are not delusional, you know you have to tell me."-Kurapika got a heavy sigh.

"They never loved me, you know? I was never certain why. I tried my best. Maybe they were expecting a human... Maybe they blamed me for their separation...Perhaps they were disappointed to learn that I have a disability."- Kurapika didn't know that (Y/n) could have a difficulty, they never mentioned any medical condition. He would ask about that a little further. They were finally discussing if he interrupted now, possibly the opportunity will not present again.-"I spent most of my time in the university's boarding. Only I wasn't allowed to stay on vacation, so I would go home. Sometimes they put a muzzle on me so I wouldn't bite - although I never bit anyone. They put an electric collar on me once. I guess they were scared of me. "It's for your good because we love you, and you have to behave. Good kitties don't scratch and don't bite." my mother told me. They believed it to be true. They did many things to me under that pretext..."-They stopped there. Still having something to say, but not wanting to.

(WARNING: MENTION OF SEXUAL ABUSE AHEAD)

"Did they... something else to you?"-Kurapika asked again. At that point, he was not surprised (Y/n) never mentioned their parents and did not consider them family. His anger was replaced by compassion. Expecting the worst.

"Yes."- there was the resistance again.

"What did they do?"-(Y/n) made a little movement with their head still hesitant.

"My mother did. She told me she had to check I was okay. Because I was not like other children..."-They lowered their gaze. Kurapika felt a chill. Neither of them was foolish, they knew what was to come. (Y/n) shrugged even more and started to play with their (color) hair -"It happened more than once, I don't remember precisely how many, but more than once for sure. She ordered me to... take off my clothes and... to lay down. It was unpleasant. For a long... for a very long time, I... I denied it. I told myself that she was an adult... that she knew better. If I doubted a bit more... If I weren't so naive... I would have done things differently, you know?"

(END OF THE MENTION OF SEXUAL ABUSE)

Kurapika felt horrible. It felt awful seeing someone he loved so much like this, someone innocent who didn't deserve anything of what happened. For the first time, he didn't know what to say. He had no idea how to act. It was something he did not understand.-"And the rest of your family? You couldn't ask other Uniliums for help?" he probed, wanting to understand their circumstances.

"I tried. I ran away twice. They discovered me at the first try. Two adults facing a 9-year-old child. They clearly gave me the beating of my life.

The following was 4 years after, more prepared. When I returned to our community, I found out that they got butchered not long ago."-(Y/n) lamented. It was probably what ached most of all. That they got that tiny hope and comfort taken away. -"I'm convinced if they had known, they would have helped and appealed to my favor. I concentrated on my studies in the faith to forget. It was also my opening to escape. I like my career, you know? Although my father told me during the 10 years it lasted that it was disappointing and worthless."-they added with a trembling smile. Those were the two details that provided them any comfort.

"Why didn't you tell me any of that?"- Kurapika asked once more.

(Y/n) raised their shoulders.-"I don't know. I was scared and ashamed. I was afraid that you would hate me. Perhaps I imagined you would be disappointed in me."-They were conscious that it was not a rational fear. But it was stronger than them.

"How could I hate you? It wasn't your fault."-He comforted. Full of regret for what happened-"It was not your responsibility at any time."

"I know... Though, still, sometimes I wonder if it was. Even acknowledging that it is a lie." (Y/n) sniffled without shedding any tears.

"They won't do a single thing to you, ever again. I'm present now, and I'll make sure they don't put a finger on you. You are safe. Okay?"-The blonde man secured.

"Thank you."-They smiled again. Many would have said it was the same smile. But for Kurapika it was different. This time it was a touch more melancholic than usual, but there was a side of profuse relief. They relaxed and their ears were forward, symbolizing more relaxed humor.

"It's impressive you succeed the Hunter exam possessing a physical disability." It was Kurapika's crafty way of questioning the subject.

"It was quite difficult. I was born with a respiratory condition, so I cannot develop many physical abilities. I am not physically powerful and I have restricted time to run. I depend greatly on my ability Nen and my wits. However, I won't allow that to stop me. Nobody tells me what I am capable of or not."-(Y/n) bragged. They could be proud. Even with that disadvantage, they had come a long way. That night Kurapika was aware of how strong his companion was. It didn't seem like it, at no time did any of the people who saw (Y/n) imagine all this side of them. After so much, they stayed strong-minded and sweet. They were truly brave. They were both survivors after all. They had both succeeded to get so far despite all the grief. And they both held pride in that. For Kurapika, the fact that (Y/n) had a more sensitive and altruistic side did not make them weak. Of course, they were qualities disapproved among several Hunters.

However, no other hunter held him during his afflicted moments. He could be vulnerable with (Y/n), and he was safe with them.

"Can you remain with me tonight, please?"

Kurapika didn't expect that request.

It was the first time one of them stayed overnight in the other's place. They had stayed really late together, but they didn't stay until the next morning. Plus, knowing how reserved (Y/n) could sometimes be, he assumed they would favor time alone following such an intense experience. Nevertheless, there was something so personal and vulnerable about that request. Kurapika felt the immense desire to stay and protect them.

"Of course."-He couldn't help but use a soft tone.

During all that conversation (Y/n), although exhibited fear, did not manifest weakness at any time. They stayed dignified without losing control.

"Can we lay down, please? I feel a bit tired."-they called after a moment of silence. Their voice resonated dull and tired.

"We can do whatever you desire."- Kurapika smiled at them, his only preoccupation at that instant was to ensure the well-being of the person he treasured, and their head started to bob. (Y/n) slowly nodded and got up. They silently asked him to follow them and padded to their chamber.

It was the first time that Kurapika entered their bedroom as well. It was fairly more adorned. It had a relatively big bed, with light cloths and a fluffy (color) colored bedspread. Without neglecting its childish side, it was full of stuffed animals of all kinds, colors, and sizes. Several shelves were overflowing with books. Shelving with toys and cute figures, alongside a record player and a cloth case with music records was also in the room. Next to the bed was a stool with a lamp and a framed photo. The apartments had their private bathroom, on which (Y/n) entered. Kurapika sat on the bed- or in the space left without stuffed animals- and waited. No longer than 15 minutes should have passed before (Y/n) came out with slightly wet hair, and a matching (color) pajama shorts and shirt. Kurapika didn't identify the exact scent at the time, but they smelled good, familiar. (Y/n) took the stuffed animals and arranged them as best they could on an individual loveseat.

"I apologize for this disorder."-they pointed to the bathroom door.-"There is the other toilet, so you can use it whenever you desire. I have each item, please serve yourself."-They laid on the left side of the bed and rested their head on the puffy pillow.

Kurapika merely laid down next to them, not too close. He was uncertain if it was correct to hug them or stay near. (Y/n) arranged the beddings covering the two. They smelled identical at them.

"Kurapika..."-an reluctant voice called his name.

"Yes?"-It felt strange, being in that place that, until then, seemed confidential. But it wasn't unpleasant at all.

"May I hug you?"-The request was bashful and quiet.

He thought of just opening his arms but preferred to give a vocal response as well.-"Of course you may."

(Y/n) approached him steadily. They proceed to timidly embrace him, after their arms were wrapped around him, they snuggled their face on him.-"You're warm... I feel ... comfortable ... with you. Which is bizarre. I don't feel secure with anyone since I was 6 years old."

Kurapika held them protectively. He felt profoundly touched by that strangely honest statement. He attempted to affectionately stroke their (curls/waves/locks). They allowed it.-"I love you (Y/n)."-He couldn't think about anything else he wanted them to know.

"I adore you, Kurapika."

(Y/n) ultimately permitted themselves to be vulnerable with Kurapika too. It felt good. It was good for them to have someone so strong to have their backs and accompany them.

They could hold each other.

#hxh scenarios #kurapika x reader #kurapika kurta x reader #hxh x reader #hxh #kurapika hxh #kurapika kurta #hunter x hunter #kurapika #kurapika imagine

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mccnyoongi · 5 years

Text

buttercup ⇢ pt one

⇢ pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

⇢ genre: smut + slight angst

⇢ au: college!au, fwb!au, stoner!yoongi, assholeish!yoongi, fuckboyish!yoongi fwb to lovers trope

⇢ word count: 6k+

⇢ warnings: smut, honestly mostly porn, unprotected sex, recreational use of drugs & alcohol, dirty talk, praise, degradation, ridiculously excessive use of pet names, fingering, dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex, slight dumbification (whoops), hair pulling, creampie??, oral (f receiving), pussy slaping, reader has a thing for Yoongi’s hands because who doesn’t, reader and yoongi are both sarcastic and oblivious, this part is basically pwp.

⇢ synopsis: Min Yoongi wears leather jackets, fucks you like he hates you, spends most of his days on the wrong side of a blunt, and calls you the sweetest names when no one else is around. And you definitely aren’t falling in love with him.

⇢ author’s note: so yes, buttercup is being cut up into two parts thanks to a lot of my life getting uprooted this week!!! ill spare you the details but everything is really chaotic rn so im sorry this isnt exactly what i promised :( thank u for all the insane amont of love ive gotten so far. this is a pretty um... filthy piece of writing skfjsd and it’s definitely not perfect and id love to get better with everything i put out on here but i hope u guys enoy ily xx

If there was a magic lantern hidden somewhere on the campus of this university, you’d find it and your first wish would be to make it so that no one found out about this whole illicit affair you’ve been having with Min Yoongi. The secrecy was fun, sexy like you guys had a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing going on. Or something. Your second wish would be to make his dick vibrate.

But then he just had to go and go down on you in a bathroom during a party at the Beta Tau Rho house, not even a month into the fall semester, knowing you wouldn’t be able to be quiet or subtle at all. And he was so smug about it too, the fucker.

You can still feel the embarrassment buzzing under the surface of your cheeks from when you walked out that bathroom door and a dozen frat boys and mutual friends of yours and Yoongi’s were out there, waiting for the two of you to emerge and giving you a round of applause when you did. Yoongi had just laughed and rolled his eyes before leading you to the kitchen to get the pair of you some drinks. He’s always been particularly good at brushing that shit off of his shoulder. You aren’t, but you’re pretty good at pretending.

Maybe you should have ended it all that night. Of course, you didn’t. You figured, hey, you’re young and in school so fuck making good decisions. Of course, the fact that no other guy has ever been able to dick you down nearly as well as Min Yoongi can is probably a huge contributing factor.

Sure he might be grumpy, and sarcastic, and he tries way too hard to look cool and nonchalant, but he’s also the first guy to ever make you squirt. And you’re pretty sure that the way he waxes poetic about your pussy would make even Shakespeare swoon. So maybe the pros outweigh the cons, but only just.

“I can’t believe you’ve been getting Yoongi dick for almost three full months and haven’t divulged every single detail and vein to me, you cold, uncaring bitch-” Jimin’s voice is far too loud for the student-run coffee shop the two of you regulared every Sunday; a tradition that Jimin always insisted upon. He loves his traditions almost as much as he loves destroying any personal boundaries between the two of you.

“Keep going Park, see if I ever buy your coffee again.”

“Don’t change the subject,” You can’t say you’re surprised that Jimin is reacting like this. Self-proclaimed ‘disaster bisexual,’ Jimin was one of the very first friends you made back when you were a shy, barely functioning freshman.

He actually introduced you to all his frat brothers, and a large number of the people you now call your friends. Including Yoongi, whose dick seems to be a reoccurring topic between you and… most people you know. Even if they weren’t at that dumb party, Jungkook made sure that every living being that stepped onto campus was aware of the newly found out fuckbuddies.

“We don’t keep anything from each other, Y/N,” He’s whining over his coffee now, full lips perched in that pretty pout that he regularly uses to his advantage. “I even told you about that time I puked on Namjoon’s dick in our second year!”

“Mmm, and I wish you hadn’t told me, Minnie-” The visual still haunts you, but Jimin has never had any predilections when it came to oversharing, especially not with people who have the misfortune of being his best friends. “‘Sides, I didn’t figure it was important, the whole Yoongi thing-”

“His dick, you mean.”

“Because it’s not like we’re getting married,” You carefully ignore him, a useful habit you’ve picked up three years into being his friend. “Just sex, remember?”

“So fucking what? You told me how you sucked Jeon’s cock in a movie theatre less than twelve hours after it happened-” You take a large gulp of your own iced coffee to busy yourself when the shameful memory is brought up. Not shameful because of the promiscuity of the act, no you’re an adult, thank you very much, but rather because of the boy you performed them on. Jeon Jungkook is now more of an annoying younger brother to you than anything. Not to mention he’s got a giant mouth that couldn’t keep a secret even if it killed him.

“Jesus you could’ve picked any other example-” You groan out as Jimin smirked, receiving the exact reaction from you he wanted. You think you’d have learned by now. “I’m sorry, okay? You big baby.”

“Hey, you’re on thin ice,” He points an accusatory finger at you and you have to fight the urge to smack it out of your face. “Now you have to make it up to me.”

You sigh- Jimin can really be exhausting when you’re only half a medium coffee in. “And how do you expect me to do that, Park.”

“Dick details, fucking obviously,” He says it like you’re a moron for even asking. And maybe you are. “Well details in general, I guess. You know, the basics; length, girth, does he make you call him daddy, is he good- I mean he must be un-fucking-real if you’ve been bouncing on it for three goddamn months, you whore.”

“I’m not giving you measurements, Jimin, I’ve yet to take a tape measure to it- and stop assuming everyone has a daddy kink just ‘cause you do.”

“Okay, vanilla bitch. You’re lucky I already know he’s got a monster cock from that time he streaked at that post-mid-term party next year.”

“Then why’d you even ask?”

“To see if you’d tell me the truth. It was a test and you failed.”

“I may be a college student but you’re gonna have to threaten me with a little more than a failing grade to spook me,” You roll your eyes playfully- there’s no real threat in his words, there never is.

“You’re right, I’m sure you’d much rather be punished by Yoongi, huh?”

..............................................................................

Watching Yoongi roll a joint, his long, slender and experienced fingers moving quickly and deftly, has always had this near hypnotizing-like effect on you. His apartment smells like weed, the scent never surprising and would almost be overwhelming if you weren’t so used to it by now. The sight alone is almost enough to make you wet. But you’re stronger than that- except for when you’re not.

Sexy hands aside, but unfortunately not on you, you’re thankful for his cannabis-related expertise because a) you can’t roll one yourself to save your life and b) despite normally reserving your consumption habits for parties, you feel like you deserve a fat one after the week you’ve had. What with, you know, the stress of having every student on campus knowing about yours and Yoongi’s torrid affair, thanks to fucking Jeon Jungkook. Brat. Plus incessant goading from both Jimin and your roommate, Irene- equally angry as Jimin about your worst kept secret- has only made you sink further into your insecure and paranoid thoughts.

The weed would help, you’d told yourself when your phone pinged with that much anticipated what’re u up 2? late night text from the raven-haired devil himself. Yep, it was the weed, the comforting blanket of getting high. And had nothing to do with the boy that was offering them. Not even his fat cock or magnetic pull he seemed to have on you.

“Alright, dove,” He says from his spot on his worn-out single-dorm couch- the names don’t tend to surprise you the way they used to. You kinda figured that the affection-starved Yoongi had just you know… gotten comfortable with the girl he had been fucking for the last couple of months. No big deal. Sure they made your heart swell and your panties dampen, but then it could be looked at as a positive.

He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, where he’s uncomfortably hunched over the table as he works and notices how you’re looking rather spaced out- not entirely rare for you. He’s used to the hundred-mile stare you tend to adopt when deep in thought, though it’s considerably less common for a sober you.

“Dove?” Nothing. “Y/N?” It’s the use of your actual name from his lips that finally grabs your attention. You finally turn your head to look at him, the glaze of deep thought finally leaving your eyes. An eyebrow quirks to let him know you’ve heard him, but his gaze remains piercing and unwavering on yours. “You need to stop worrying so much, dove.”

“That’s what the weed is for, Yoongs.”

“The weed? You’re just here so I can smoke you out then, huh? No ulterior motives, hm?” His tone is as dry and sarcastic as ever, qualities he had quickly become known for around campus. He shurgs “Fine. Just here to sesh. C’mere then.”

You scoot closer to his side of the couch, not even thinking twice before listening to him. His tongue is tantalizing as he licks the rolling paper, even if he doesn’t mean it to be. He’s almost always tantalizing to you.

“Don’t be grumpy. You invited me over,” Your words are softer than you meant, but your proximity to him makes you feel stilted. He was right, you really needed a smoke, more on edge than ever.

“Well, technically,” He starts, unlit, perfectly rolled joint now perched between his lips. He grabs at your legs before continued so that you were resting sideways on the black couch, legs strewn over legs, thighs touching thighs. “I invited the best pussy on campus over.” You crinkle your nose at his bluntness.

“Yoongi-” You scold indignantly and pinch at a well-toned bicep. “Don’t be an asshole, you asshole.” He grins despite the insult like he’d expected it. Or he’s revelling in it.

“You know I’m just fucking around, angel,” His arm tucks around your waist comfortably, pulling you even closer. “Tryna chill you out. I can tell when you’re all strung out. I know how you,” He pokes you in the middle of the forehead, still grinning, as you pout from being called strung out. “Tick.”

He really does, doesn't he? The thought is mildly terrifying, and you think that Yoongi might be too smart or his own good sometimes. When he’s not smoking himself into another dimension, that is.

He leans back into his seat, uncurling from around you to finally light up. A few sparks later and the room is fogging up with overly pungent smoke- the cheap smell makes you think that he probably bought it off of Hobi, too lazy to go any further off-campus than his own block of apartments to one of the nice but relatively affordable dispensaries. You crinkle your nose at the scent, grateful he’s too distracted to notice since he’d probably just tease you for liking the fancy shit more. At least you trust Hobi, and he lives only two buildings down from Yoongi. Truly an age of convenience.

A few passes, tokes, whatevers later, and you’re feeling substantially... floaty. You’ve completely relaxed, choosing to lie down rather than put the effort into sitting up, though your legs are still thrown across your equally high counterpart’s. What’s left of the roach is left to burn in one of many strategically placed ashtrays around the apartment, this one being on the living room table.

Yoongi has barely moved in the past while, head resting lazily on the back of the couch, black hair messy and his neck- which is somehow handsome to you- stretched out, and hands resting against your bare knees. You’ve barely paid him any mind, the silence nothing but comforting and easy.

Which is why you can’t help but jolt just a little in surprise when those hands, the hypnotizing ones you’re so obsessed with suddenly start creeping up your legs, halfway up your thighs, carefully kneading the supple flesh he finds there. He chuckles at your reaction, finally picking his up his head to watch you through heavy-lidded eyes. “Bet you’re extra sensitive right now, huh petal?” He doesn’t have to bet because he knows it’s true, knows how needy you get when you’ve smoked. And he loves it- it’s why he never makes you pay for any of the times he smokes you out.

“Fuck off,” You whine at his light-hearted teasing, but Yoongi just giggles- he fucking giggles- in response, hands still travelling the expanse of your thighs.

“Be nice,” His words are still jovial, but there’s a gruffness behind them that sends a shiver down your spine, despite the relative stuffiness of his living room.

“I am nice, you’re just a dick,” You pout- childish, but you can’t quite come up with anything more clever at the moment. The jab may be weaker than your usual quips, but Yoongi seems to have decided it’s enough to warrant a punishment of sorts, as he sends a quick slap onto your thigh. It’s certainly not the harshest hit you’ve received from him, it’s more playful than anything, but it’s enough to make you whine, not even noticing when your own hands jump down to grab at him and your now sore flesh.

His eyes take on a new sort of darkness, beyond the dilated pupils from the high he’s in the middle of as he grabs at your wrists, any assault you had planned halting in its tracks. His large hands that you’ve drooled over- figuratively and literally- many a time are big enough that he only needs one of them to hold both of yours steady. He uses his grip on you to yank you back up to a sitting position, where your noses almost touch and you can feel his breath fan across your lips.

“I told you, I know how you tick,” He lets his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, the act distracts you and makes you mimic it with your own tongue and lips. The smirk he gives you is all at once wicked and panty dampening. “Which means I know you like it when I’m mean. I know you like when I treat you like this, like my little slut,” The word makes you draw in a breath as your face reddens in humiliation and tension. “And- and I know you’re probably soaking through your panties right now, all over my couch. Making a fucking mess.”

It infuriates you to no end how right he is as your breaths come out shaky and uneven as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing beneath your shorts and panties.

“Aren’t you?” His tone doesn’t leave room for playfulness anymore, and you’re nodding dumbly before you can give it a second thought. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to bask in the praise before he’s leaning in to capture your lips in a searing and sloppy kiss. He’s domineering even in the way he kisses you, teeth biting and tongue sweeping into your own mouth as he revels in the small sounds that escape you. His hands leave your wrists, freeing them so you can grip onto raven locks with a newly freed hand as his own wrap around your waist.

Every sense is filled with him, and it is all at once comforting and exhilarating.

He tugs and roughly manhandles you so that you’re properly astride his denim-covered thighs, your lips never untangling in the process. When your lips finally do come apart, it’s with a lewd sound and a gasp from your mouth. He’s still smirking.

“Gonna fuck you so good petal,” Yoongi has always been so blunt and unforgiving, whether in bed or out and it had been one of the things that first attracted you to him, besides his obvious good looks.

Before the two of you had even gotten together, when you were friends who didn’t fuck on the regular, you had even mustered up the courage to touch yourself to the thought of him speaking to you like this- your own fingers circling your clit and delving into yourself without abandon. You had only been able to imagine up a fraction of his sexual prowess.

Like the time only a few weeks ago you admitted to him in a foggy haze, high than you think you’d ever been. how you’d brought yourself to climax with images and soundbites of him flitting through your head. He’d immediately made you put on a show for him- recreating those nights, but this time with him sitting feet away from you and ignoring your pleas for him to touch you.

Right now, however, the only things keeping you grounded in reality is the feeling of the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath you, though nowhere near where you truly ache to be touched, and one of his hands brutishly tangled in your hair, pulling harshly so he can have easy access to your neck. Plush lips start soft, kissing and licking at the skin there, before his teeth join in, biting and sucking like he loves the taste of you (because he does).

“Y-yoongi-” You’re trying to keep the whimpers at bay, like maybe if you stop yourself from seeming so turned on so fast it’ll get him to fuck you faster. “C’mon, just fuck me already.”

“So demanding for such a needy bitch,” He has you squirming on his lap and you don’t know why you thought you had any power over him left. “Have you forgotten your place? Can’t think of anything else but getting fucked, huh?”

You nod in agreement, but find out he must want a verbal response when you’re met with a sharp spank to your ass that has you squealing and bucking into his lap. “Yeah, yeah Yoongi ‘m sorry, just need it.”

“I know, baby, I know, you can’t even help it when you get all messy like this, I know,” You can’t decide whether his words are sweet or patronizing when he coos at you like that, but either way he’s got you another pair of panties.

“Need you to fix it, Yoongs,” All pride is out the window when he’s got you like this, and you love pleading with him to give you what you want almost as much as likes making you beg.

“I will,” He gives you one more harsh bite to the junction of your neck and your shoulder that you know will blossom into a bruise just in time for your 10 AM class tomorrow and you hiss at the mingling of pain and pleasure. “Now fucking get up,” He pats lightly at your thigh twice at the order.

You’re in no position to disobey, and you know from experience that not listening to him will end up with a sore ass and no release in sight. You stand up on shaky, doe-like legs and he grins at the sight of you. He stands up with you, his lean form and strong stance making him look taller than he really is. Then his long fingers are pulling at what little clothing you have, stripping you of both your tank top and your shorts and your bra isn’t far behind. Soon you’re clad only in your panties while he’s still fully clothed in black form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Thankfully he leaves his cliche, but devastatingly sexy leather jacket at the door.

He doesn’t make any move to undress at all and you hope to god he will eventually- you love seeing his honey-coloured skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as he fucks you into oblivion. But for now, he stays fully clothed and he roughly pulls you by your upper arm until he can bend you over the arm of the couch, panty-covered ass high and perfectly on display for him.

“God, you’re fucking dripping,” He taunts, fingers running over your pussy through the thin cotton, making you whine into the rough cushion your face is resting on. “All this from almost nothing, huh? You’re such a fucking slut for me, shit.” He sounds genuinely amazed by you and when you uncomfortably crane your neck back to get a good look at him you let out a proper moan. He must have stripped his shirt off when you weren’t facing him, because his chest is bare for you to gaze at, or you would gaze at it if you weren’t distracted by the hand that isn’t on you, which is lazily working over his cock, rock hard and aching through his jeans.

He smirks when he notices what’s grabbed your attention, knowing you’re only moments away from quite literally drooling on his pillows. “Is this what you want? Hm?”

“Ye-yeah your cock, Yoongi, need your cock,” Your face burns red and blood burns hot as the crude words leave your mouth.

“And you’ll fucking get it, dove,” The cute name contrasts the second harsh spank he lands on your ass and you moan at the delicious sting.

You think that he must be about to tear your panties off and sink into you, but that would be too predictable and Yoongi loves to keep you on your toes. Instead, he disappears from your line of sight, a dull thump coming from the hardwood as he drops to his knees, feline gaze now level with your cunt.

“Yoongi-” You’re whining again, and you even have to hold yourself back from stomping your foot childishly because, god, you just need him to do something.

And then he finally does- he licks a thick stripe, right from your clit to your entrance, still over your panties, and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, twice, three, four times until your hips are bucking and you’re whining because you need more, you need him to actually touch you and not be a giant fucking tease for once in his life.

“Be fucking patient,” He hisses out, but at least he’s finally rolling your underwear down your legs to toss them somewhere across the room. “Or I swear to god, I’ll hold you down just like this so you can’t even squirm while I get myself off all over your messy cunt,” His hand is running up and down your bare pussy as he speaks, spreading the wetness around, to your clit and your thighs and your ass and then back again. “And then I’ll send you home without touching you or cleaning you up, so you’ll have to take the subway home covered in my come and fucking trembling. So be fucking good.” At the last word, he lands a mean slap against your gushing cunt and you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“Shit-fuck- Yoongi, please, just-” You stutter through your words, needing to get them out, though you don’t know why. “I’ll be good, okay? ‘M your good girl, I am, promise, I’ll be good.”

He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But you have to assume he’s happy with your desperate response when he finally delves into your pussy like a man starved, tongue licking into you, the muscle sending spasms up and down your legs. You have to muffle your moans by biting into a pillow, not needing another altercation with his neighbours, but you want nothing more than to yell his name as loud as you can until your voice goes hoarse when he shakes his head from side to side, tongue still buried inside of you and one of his hands now roughly circling your clit.

It’s too much, but it’s not nearly enough. It’s when he switches positions between his hand and mouth that you think you might explode; his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling and playing with it and two fingers fucking into you, preparing you for the impressive girth of his own cock.

Your teeth let go of the strong grip it has so you can warn him of your impending orgasm. “Yoongi- gonna come-” You manage to choke out between barely quieted moans.

You know that he wouldn’t be able to respond if he was still suckling on your clit, but you still whine and wiggle your hips as he pulls away, earning you yet another spank to your rear, where you can only assume a nice handprint is forming. “Yeah? Want you to come all over my face, like a good messy whore- gotta come for me before I can fuck you like you need.”

When his mouth finds your swollen clit again, you can’t help it as your orgasm barrels through you almost violently, every muscle tensing and fingers grasping at whatever they can find, neighbour’s delicate sensibilities forgotten as you moan out Yoongi’s name. He licks you through it, fingers no longer pistoning into you. When the last of the tremors have faded he finally pulls away, using his clean hand to wipe your mess off of his chin, though it hardly cleans him.

“Good fucking girl,” The roughness with which he was grinding his still covered bulge into your now sopping wet center would be impossible to ignore even if your head weren’t a million miles away. But for now, everything is Yoongi, every single scent is filled with him and you think that that might be making your head even fuzzier than the drugs coursing through your system, but you’re too far gone to be sure. Or to even care.

Because all you can think about is his mouth-watering hands kneading at the slightly pinkened skin of your ass, his mouth-watering cock rutting against you and his mouth-watering, well, mouth pressing wet kisses and occasional bites up and down your spine. “Yoongi,” You meant to speak with at least a little more conviction, but his name comes out as little more than a mumble.

“Hm,” He hums against your skin and even those slight vibrations reverberate straight to your heart, which starts beating faster at the thought of what’s to come. “What, is my babygirl still needy?”

The use of the word my in front of the affectionate name makes your heart jump, but you don’t even have time to scold yourself for thinking with your post-orgasmic pussy before he continues talking with that sinful mouth of him. “Such a greedy, desperate girl, won’t be happy ‘til you’re stuffed full of my fat cock,” His words have you whining and grinding back against him, where you don’t have to look to know you’re leaving a stain on his favourite jeans. If you’re unlucky- or lucky depending on your mood- he’ll make you clean it up with your tongue as further delicious torture.

But smoking makes Yoongi needy too, no matter how much he teases you for the effect it has on you, and he can’t wait much longer, not with his cock so hard he was a razor blades’ edge from losing his mind. He needs to be inside you as much as you need him.

Which is why you don’t doubt him for a second when he’s murmuring things about how he’s ‘gonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you stupid,’ and you can only respond with even quieter whispers of ‘I knows’ and ‘pleases’ as he strips himself oh the rest of his clothes, hissing from oversensitivity as his cock makes contact with the air. It’s wonderfully overwhelming and he’s not even fucking you yet.

You can’t even explain how grateful you are when Yoongi turns you around because you love just seeing his cock. You’ve never been one to describe guys’ dicks as pretty before- except that TA you managed to fuck before Jimin sunk his claws into him, Kim Seokjin, because, well, you’re not blind. But Yoongi’s dick is gorgeous. It’s not the biggest thing you’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t have to be, not when it’s girthy enough to make you salivate with a curve that points to the heavens. Gorgeous.

He’s pulling you on top of him so he can sit back down and you’re back to straddling him, and you don’t complain because you know he’s tired both from the pot and crouching on his haunches for access to your center not two minutes ago. Plus he loves when you ride him, breasts bouncing in his face, wetness making a mess out of his lap and full access of your entire body for both his hands and lips.

“Need you to bounce on my fat cock before I fucking explode, baby,” And you’d have to be some sort of a madwoman to deny him.

“Need it too, Yoongs,” You don’t know why you feel the need to remind how desperate you are for him, surely he can feel it, your swollen pussy resting only centimetres above his throbbing length. “Can’t think of anything else.”

“I know,” He’s rubbing the angry red tip against your sopping folds, tinges of overstimulation making you jolt. Or you would jolt if his hands weren’t heavy on your waist, keeping you steady so you couldn’t a) get away from his cock or b) properly sink down onto it. “So pathetic and perfect for me like this, all cock drunk and fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet, huh?”

You nod frantically, and you can’t even find the energy to be embarrassed when a hand comes up to pet your hair with a condescending ‘awe’ as he pouts at you. You bat his hand away with a whine and furrowed eyebrows, but all that gets you is his hand tangled in your hair, yanking sharply in retaliation. “Careful, slut, or you won’t be coming for the next week-”

“Please, Yoongi-” You don’t let him finish, knowing from experience to always take his threats seriously. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay just please-”

You cut yourself off with a high pitched, tea kettle-like squeak as he uses his hands on you as leverage to have you sink down onto his cock in one fell swoop. “Shit, god, you’re always so fucking tight around me, fuck me.”

I am, is what you wish you were coherent enough to snark back with, but you’re sure no one would blame you if they could feel what you feel right now. And what you’re feeling right now is how well Yoongi feels inside of you, like no cock you’ve ever had. Every ridge and vein on his cock fills you up to the fucking brim, no room left for a pinky or a thought that has to do with anything other than Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.

And then he starts with those devilish moments of his hip, fucking into you shallowly and slowly to start and it’s all Yoongi’s dick.

“Fucking bounce on it, dove. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it,” He speaks through gritted teeth, each word a struggle as he tries not to fuck into you without thought. And it’s with the satisfaction you get knowing he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him that you find the strength to do as he says.

With quivering thighs, you push up and off of his cock, the two of you sharing a harmonious groan at the feeling, foreheads pressed against each other, skin sweaty. And this all just in the calm before the storm.

It’s not long before the both of you are moving frantically, mere seconds, really. It’s intense and all-encompassing, as you grind and roll your hips, cock deeper than you knew to be possible, and his bucking his own hips into you roughly, no doubt as deeply in some sort of euphoria as you are. His hands are everywhere and so are his lips. He sucks marks into your tits and gropes your ass, controlling your movements to the best of his abilities.

All of that, plus your clit grinding against his pelvic bone every other second and your head just might be in another universe.

Yoongi’s words are swirling around in your head, though you’re not properly taking any of it in- his velvety voice goes on about how wet you are, how tight you are, how you’re a good girl and it’s all another instrument in your downfall. You’ve never been much for heights but being with Yoongi feels like something akin to what you assume bungee jumping is like, and you’re just about at that point where your cord runs out of length and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.

“Tell me you’re fucking close, baby, c’mon,” This is as close to pleading as you can ever get Yoongi but you’re still swimming in pride. He brings a hand off of your ass to cup your cheek, brushing away your now mussed hair and a single stray tear and you drink in the look in his eyes, dark red-rimmed and needing. “Gonna fill you up with my come, just like I know you like, my perfect little cumslut, fuck, just need you to come first, yeah? All over my fucking cock.”

And with a particularly hard grasp at your ass, bringing you to grind your clit against him again, you’re gone. It’s considerably less intense than the previous one, as many second orgasms are, but your head is still spinning and you think you might have drooled a little, but you don’t mind and you know Yoongi doesn’t. Your attempts to stifle your moans are unsuccessful as the name of the man attached to your favourite cock falls from your lips like a mantra.

And where your orgasm is, Yoongi is rarely far behind- he loves seeing you fall apart around him, because of him and you always clench so fucking hard around him in the peak of your pleasure how could he fucking not. He’s grunting, moaning, damn near growling as he spurts his own release as deep into you as he possibly can, coating every inch of your delectable pussy, vague mumbles of how he’s filling you up, just like you’re meant to be that you can just barely hear.

Shakey breaths hit each of your faces as you come down, now still and worn out. Your chests move up and down and you don’t know when you’ve buried your face into the crook of his neck, but the warmth and smell are more comforting than any hit you’ve ever taken off of one of his blunts.

“Shit, buttercup,” He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and where you’ve tucked yourself He runs a hand through his sweaty black locks, the other hand locked around your waist. “I don’t know how we’re gonna move without making this couch fucking disgusting.” Mood killer.

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Yeah, but I do. Especially if Joon or Hobi someone finds it and makes a big fucking deal out of it, like no other guy in his twenties has some come stained furniture.”

You pull back from the spot you wish he’d just let you fall asleep in so he can see your pout. He can’t find the sight of you… adorable? Your hair matted, bruises, courtesy of yours truly littering your tits and chest, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow and bottom lip jutted out exactly enough to be overexaggerated and so fucking adorable.

At that moment he’s glad that about three weeks ago the two of you had started to break the unspoken no sleeping over after sex rule because he just wants to clean you up and feel you curl yourself around him like you like to.

You don’t know what time it is, just that it’s late and that it doesn't matter, because this was certainly time well spent. You wonder how much sleep you’ve given up in lieu of Yoongi’s pretty dick. Of course, it does matter... because you have a 9 am class tomorrow morning that you can’t miss, but that’s for future you to worry about. For now, it’s time to try to get up without defiling this Ikea couch (you failed miserably and giggled about it while Yoongi groaned in mock pain), burn out just one more joint, steal some clothes for bed and some snacks from his fridge, and pass the fuck out on his bed, which you think is way better than yours, but that has nothing to do with the boy in it or his comforting warmth and smell.

..............................................................................

Past you is a dumb bitch. Also maybe current you. Point being, you hate you, because you’re sore and stiff and ten minutes late to your dumb 9 am class and it’s all Yoongi’s fucking fault. You texted him this much, calling him a ‘little bitch boy’ for not even waking you up to make you a cup of coffee with his fancy instant coffee machine before you left. He hasn’t responded yet because holy fuck does that guy sleep like a rock. A really cute, cuddly, sex-god rock.

But, as usual, Jimin came in clutch, handing you off a coffee as your paths crossed on campus, each of you heading to your respective classes. He gave you a one-armed-too-tight hug and a comment on how you have that very glamourous ‘I got fucked by Min Fucking Yoongi last night and you didn’t so I’m better than you look.’ You tried to take it as a compliment as you thanked him for the coffee. He gave you a cute kiss to your forehead that reminded you you could never even be annoyed at him for too long.

And now you’re in class. Headache from not getting enough sleep getting worse by the second while you tried not to think about what judgements people must be passing on you, with your sunglasses inside and hickeys you didn’t have time to cover up.

When your phone pings you assume it’s Jimin, with something slutty or sarcastic or both. But it’s not. It’s Yoongi- well, it’s what you have Yoongi’s number saved under, aka the drooling emoji three times over… You’re surprised he’s awake, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have shit to do until the afternoon.

You have a fleeting thought that it could be a dick pic- yeah it’s a little early for that kind of dumb fuckboy behaviour, and you’d previously thought that too, but Kim Taehyung proved you wrong last year.

Yoongi isn’t a dick pic kind of guy anyway. No, he’s the guy that sends pictures of his hand around your throat that one night you let him take artsy photos of you two fucking on his film camera. The kind of guy that sends you audios of him jerking off and moaning your name that you listen to through your earphones in between classes because he knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. He’s the guy that drives you crazy because you can never quite predict what he’s gonna do next.

[9:23 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: you could have woken me you know dummy

[9:24 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: subways are gross in the morning

[9:25 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: i could have u know, driven u…

[9:26 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: cant really say no to u buttercup.

You don’t know why you’re heart’s beating so fast so you reprimand yourself for thinking with your pussy. Min motherfucking Yoongi is gonna be the death of you.

#bts smut #btswritingcafe #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #buttercup #bts fic #yoongi fic #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts writing #def not my best work but u know JKFDHKJFHS

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