#I’m surprised he hasn’t gone off the deep end yet

[highdefhoetry]

in the library.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, public sex in library (discreet), penetration (vaginal fingering), handjob, blowjob

summary: you’re desperate to stay quiet. he’s determined to make you scream.

There are only a handful of people in the library when you run into Zayne. You cross paths in the last aisle, where the “adult” novels could be found. You were trying to take a Nora Roberts book from the shelf when your hand brushed against something cold yet familiar. When you looked up, your eyes met those of your classmate. Well, former, back when you two were in the same gen ed course. He stood calmly on the other side of the shelf with a piercing gaze that sent chills down your back. 

“(Y/N),” he greets you with a slight nod of his head. 

“Dr. Zayne,” you awkwardly return his greeting, but when you look back to the empty space on the shelf, you find he’s already gone. He appears at your side in a heartbeat, his hazel eyes focused on the book you’re holding. 

“I’m not a doctor yet,” he corrects you.

“Haven’t you skipped a bunch of courses, though? You’re pretty much set to be one by the end of the year.”

“Unlikely. I still have a ways to go.”

Suddenly you become hyper aware of how close he’s standing. His shoulder brushes against yours as he takes the book from your hand in one smooth motion. You watch as his elegant fingers sift through the worn down pages, gently tugging each one at the corners. 

“For Now, Forever,” he reads the title. “An excellent choice.”

“You’ve read Nora Roberts?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you only read boring medical texts.”

“That’s mostly true. But even I need breaks from my studies.”

“Breaks to read smutty novels?”

Silence. It seems you’ve caught him off guard. He clears his throat, and you notice his ears reddening a little.

“I was only curious about this one because it involved characters in the medical field,” he gives you a weak excuse. “I’m not a connoisseur of erotica, unlike some people.”

“Hey! Don’t say it like that. You make me sound like some kind of pervert.”

He chuckles softly at your expense.

“If I’m not mistaken, this novel in particular has a number of… graphic scenes,” he comments, his eyes drifting to your face in the process.

“I mean, yeah… all of her books are like that,” you say, trying to sound casual despite your heated cheeks. It was embarrassing having him comment on things like this so candidly. And by the way he was smirking, you could tell he was doing it on purpose. 

“You must have enjoyed these lewd scenes, too. Or else you wouldn’t have read it.”

A sudden streak of mischief takes over. You take a small step forward, closing the gap between you. His lips part as if he’s about to say something, but he remains silent.

“Speaking of that…” you tease. “Do you remember the part where they’re in the library? I think it went a little something like this…”

You place your hands on his chest, running them over his iron-pressed shirt to feel the muscles underneath. The hem is tucked into the waistband of his pants; you tug on it ever so slightly until it comes undone, allowing you access to his bare skin. He doesn’t stop you when you sneak your hands under his shirt, nor does he protest when you run your palms on his stomach. You hear his breath hitch slightly when you wander a little too low; as soon your eyes drift down and fall on the tent poking through his fitted pants, he suddenly grabs your hand and holds it firmly.

You look up again, locking eyes with the doctor in training, whose stony expression still hasn’t cracked. Although, he is looking a bit more strained…

“Zayne…?”

He pauses for a moment. Then, you see the corners of his lips curl up in a tiny smirk.

“...I remember it going a little differently.”

His steely eyes meet yours once again. You sense something deep inside them, struggling to break free, yet his demeanor remains as cool and controlled as ever. How many times have you wanted to break through that cold facade of his and curl up with the warmth of his heart? He hid it so well, but even the strongest armor had cracks. 

While you’re lost in thought, something flutters against your thigh, snaking up the hem of your skirt. The feeling makes your skin quiver, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle a small cry. Meanwhile, his fingers reach the lace edges of your panties and tug them down until they’re right above your knees. The sudden rush of cool air makes you shiver.

“Zayne…” you whisper, trying to keep quiet so you don’t garner the attention of the other visitors, or worse, the librarians themselves. You look around anxiously to make sure no one is nearby while his hands grope your thighs and hips. He takes his time feeling you up before finally caressing his cold hand on your outer lips. It makes you jump, but soon you feel a warmth spread through your body, fueled by his gentle circling of your clit.

“Shhh,” he leans forward to whisper in your ear, right before sliding a finger inside you.

You let out a tiny gasp, forcing back a moan as he curls his finger upwards, seeking out the elusive spot he knows will make you cum hard. He finds it and begins to stroke the spongy walls, slowly at first, then with a bit more force. All while pumping those beautiful fingers of his in and out, in and out, in a steady rhythmic fashion. It’s taking everything in you not to scream and moan. He chuckles as he watches your face twist in pleasure and your strained efforts to silence yourself.

“Mmm… mmph!!”

“Calm down,” he croons. “You need to stay quiet in the library.”

It’s the same thing the male lead had said to the heroine of the story. You remember it vividly, for you had pictured yourself in this exact scenario, with this exact same man. Zayne’s hands are quick and skilled; his thumb continues massaging your clit, putting just enough pressure on it to warm you up without bringing you over the edge. It’s driving you mad, how gentle yet forceful he is. He stares down at you from his massive height, lips slightly curved upwards in an amused smile while you fight to remain silent as his hands and fingers roam your body. Your heart has begun to pound so intensely you wonder if he can actually hear it.

You’re close. He can sense it, too. He chuckles again when you grab onto his arms, as if bracing yourself for impact. You squeeze your eyes shut as wave after wave of electrifying pleasures surge through your body. It’s taking everything in you not to scream. You force back every moan, only letting little gasps and groans escape when he hits you in just the right place. And from the grin on his face, you can tell it amuses him to no end.

A few moments later, you finally cum. You bite your lip, feel your eyes roll in the back of your head, let out fluttered sighs as you squirt all over his hand. He caresses your waist and hips, relishes the way you twitch and shudder under his hands. The orgasm made you extra sensitive, so every touch feels like cold fire. You open your eyes to meet his, letting your lips part as you take in large gulps of air while trying to regain your composure. His soft gaze makes your heart dance. He doesn’t say anything, opting instead to admire the sight of your flushed skin and relieved expression.

But his own expression soon turns to one of restraint. His gaze falters when he feels your hand grope the tent in his pants. You rub the tip with an increasing amount of pressure and smile when you hear stifled grunts emerge from his throat. His brows furrow slightly in determination, as if he is focusing all his attention on retaining his composure. But you see the mask slip when you unzip his pants and let loose his stiff member.

Still covered by black boxers, you sneak your hands into the slit in the middle and take hold of his shaft. He grunts softly, almost losing it when you begin caressing the tip and teasing the length of his cock. You start off slow and take your time fondling him, noting what makes him sigh and gasp and when his breath becomes more erratic, more desperate. 

You pause briefly to look around, once again making sure that no one is looking, before falling to your knees.

Before he can protest, you take his cock in your mouth and run your tongue along his shaft, stopping only to kiss and lick his tip before going on. The muffled sounds he’s making are delightful. His grunts start off quiet, but the longer you suck him off, the louder they grow. He grabs fistfuls of your hair, firmly but gently so as not to hurt you, and pulls you close until his cock is hitting the back of your throat. You suppress the urge to gag; it won’t be much longer until he cums.

After a few deep thrusts and more teasing from your mouth and tongue, he erupts his load into you, gasping quietly while still holding onto your locks. You taste his cum and swallow it all, savoring the warmth he’s given you. You slowly guide his cock out of your mouth and stand back up, smiling at him while his heavy breathing subsides. He zips up his pants with a relieved sigh, as if he just released a lifetime’s worth of stress.

“Well?” you whisper. “How did it end, again…?”

Zayne looks down at you with eyes full of affection, taking your chin in hand and gently pulling your face up.

“I believe it went like this.”

He kisses you softly, and his icy exterior melts in your hands.

#love and deepspace smut #lnd zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x you #minors dni #love and deepspace

[syntheticavenger]

Bad Decisions - Five

Previous

A big thank you to the commenter who reblogged my little story and gave me the inspiration to write this piece again. I appreciate you so much!

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, language, HEAVY violence mentions, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of murder, a surprise ending.

Mob Boss Bucky Barnes x Right Hand Female Reader

Frank Adler x Right Hand Female Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary | Being Bucky’s right hand gets complicated when he decides to marry a girl from a questionable family that provides no answers to his decision, only more questions.

“My guys have something you may want to see,” Thor’s wife says over the phone. “Heard you left the party early.”

“I said my piece,” you respond. “What is it?”

“Bucky got a little sloppy and uh, well… I have Dot’s mom.”

“Shit. How?”

“I have my ways. Either way, your window for this little meet and greet is limited. You go in, you ask your questions, but you make it quick. Thor will do so much worse if he finds out what I doing for you. This is strictly between us girls. You got thirty minutes.”

“I owe you.”

“You sure do. God help us if any of those men find out.”

-

 Your footsteps echo in the dark hallway, the door opening by one of Thor’s men who says nothing but gives you a nod to proceed inside.

The chamber is freezing, the older woman tied to a chair, her feet bare as she shivers. You’d heard stories of Thor and his brutality.

Now, looking at the state of the woman who looks up at you with pleading wet eyes, you know his wife is worse.

Ripping the tape off of her mouth, you press your fingers against her lips, her muffled scream vibrating against the pads of your fingers.

“Shh,” you warn, bending down slightly as you apply pressure to her mouth. “I don’t have a lot of time so I’m sure you can understand that I need to make this quick. I ask the questions, you answer them.”

She nods quickly, trembling when you remove your hand.

“I know you,” she says quickly, exhaling short breaths. “Please, you have to get me out of here.”

“Now what makes you think I would do that? From where I’m standing, you are in no position to make any sort of demand. So, listen and listen good,” you command, waiting for her to finally close her mouth. “What were you doing around Alexander Pierce?”

“He was a friend of the family’s.”

“Oh, come on Helena. I’m not here for acquaintance stories and I’m sure that when Thor’s wife gets back, she’s going to make sure your shiners match. What does Pierce have to do with Barnes?”

“Money,” Helena answers. “I had a problem. Gambling just ruined my family and I knew it, I knew. I didn’t care because my debt was wiped every time I visited his bed.”

“So, your ledger is wiped clean. What does that mean for Barnes?”

“The deli was a front. Money laundering, Dot’s idea. She got in too deep and when she reached out for help, there was James, ready to save her again. Pierce has his hands in it. She thought if James’ could take it on, Pierce would focus on him, take it all. The deli, James’ business. I saw Pierce ruin Thor’s wife’s family. Gone in an instant. I didn’t want that to be us.”

“You all set him up,” you blurt out, shaking your head when you realize the extent of her treachery. “He would have known about the money laundering.”

At her silence, you lower yourself to her level, your head tilting to the side when she hesitates.

“Right?” you question.

“I can’t,” Helena whispers. “Please, you have to trust me.”

“I haven’t trusted you since I laid eyes on you. You hid it from him. How?”

“We hid the money. I swear to you, I didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“I didn’t know it was his territory. I swear to you, I had no idea.”

“Who’s territory?”

“Steve Rogers,” Helena whispers, watching as you close your eyes.

“You fucking stupid bitch. You hid money on his turf? And not just any money. Pierce’s money. Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“He hasn’t found out yet.”

“He’s biding his time,” you respond. “Do you understand what you just did? Barnes protects your family and then Steve burns it to the ground with anyone who gets in his way.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know until the Norseman came, investigating -”

“What?”

Helena goes silent, your hand on the holster of your gun.

“Go on.”

“I’ve said enough.”

Pointing your gun at her temple, she sobs.

“Not nearly enough. Why was Volstagg on Steve’s turf?” you question.

“Volstagg saw me hide the money on Steve’s turf. He followed and I told one of Rumlow’s men to tell Steve that Volstagg was on his territory to throw him off.”

Cocking back the hammer, she sobs harder when you press it against her temple harder.

“You started a goddamn war!”

“I’m sorry!” she cries, her chest heaving with each cry.

Checking your watch, you stand, watching her look at you with wide eyes filled with fear.

“Where are you going?”

“My time is almost up,” you reply, brushing back her hair. “I’ll say this, Helena. I’m not sure it’s good idea that she got you after all. Bucky would have maybe though about mercy. She won’t.”

“Wait, wait!” she shouts, the door opening. “What are you going to do?”

“Does it matter? You won’t be around to see it.”

The door closes behind you when you walk out, Helena’s howls of anguish echoing behind you.

-

The water hits Bucky’s face, his head tilted toward the showerhead. Another ominous warning from Steve has appeared in the form of single phone call.

“Long time no see, Buck,” Steve says, his voice cheerful. “I’m sorry I had to miss the party. Heard it was a rager. Not that I would expect anything less from a man who is planning his own demise.”

“Says the man who is holding the plans.”

“End this,” Steve demands. “We both deserve peace and quiet, Bucky. Don’t make me make the decision for the both of us.”

The line had gone dead, Bucky knowing that it’s only a matter of hours for him to make a reply. The list of allies is dwindling, Frank still in the hospital and with the ghost of boss watching over his turf, Natasha has kept him in the dark of what Frank’s men plan to do with the loss of his boss.

Steam swirls around the en suite, Bucky wiping the fogged up mirror, looking back into a reflection he doesn’t recognize. Dot’s mother is missing, a mistake that he knows he let happen. Whether on purpose or not, it doesn’t matter now. 

Dot’s screams for her mother are a distant memory now, barely registering in his mind when he brushes his hair back, his shoulders slumping at the thought of you. Your lips on his, insistent and lingering makes his hands ball into fists. He could have ended it there. Choices could have been made, alliances rebuilt and no more Steve at his door.

His attention turns toward Dot, grabbing a towel as his cell vibrates in the other room.

-

Frank’s hand tightens over yours and Natasha’s. It’s still dark in his room, the only light from the small lamp in the corner. Intimate enough that you were able to slip in unnoticed, even if you know there is no such thing. Frank offers you the beginnings of a smile, closing his eyes to preserve what little energy he has from finally waking up.

“I thought we were going to lose you,” Natasha says, wiping her eyes. “I could kill you myself, Frank for the scare.”

“Not out of the woods yet,” Frank responds gently. “Won’t feel like myself until I’m out of his hospital bed.”

“You need to rest,” you urge.

“I’m a sitting duck,” he reminds you both. “I’m surprised I’m still alive.”

“Sleeping Beauty has no idea who has been watching.”

Frank goes quiet, groaning as Natasha shakes her head.

“Tell me you didn’t call him.”

“I didn’t,” Natasha replies. “Neither did she.”

“This isn’t good. Steve can’t get involved,” Frank tells you both, running his head down his face. “You know my cousin, Natasha. Once he’s involved, he’s -”

“He’s the reason you’re still alive, Frank,” you confess. “Kicked out the doctors who said you weren’t going to make it, replaced them with his own personal physicians. He did this for you, Frank.”

“Did he?” Frank asks you. “And the bodies he’s left in his wake?”

At your silence, Natasha looks at him questioningly.

“Nothing is for free,” Frank says. “Go find him. If Bucky’s still alive, you need to get to him too.”

“What do you mean, still alive?” you ask.

“There was a truce they made,” Frank recalls. “Something about peace and quiet. I can’t remember it but it was the last resort if they ever talked about it. I could swear I heard Steve say it once. Makes sense now if he’s the one watching out for me. You need to talk to Steve and you need to do it now.”

-

Steve plays piano, not stopping when you stand in one place.

“It’s rude not to introduce yourself,” he greets you, the somber notes filtering through the air. “To what do I owe this impromptu visit?”

Swallowing hard, you feel naked without your guns, knowing that even if Steve is sitting at the piano, he’s still armed to the teeth, even if you can’t see it.

“Frank is awake.”

Steve smiles, continuing to play.

“You think I didn’t know that? I was there when he first woke up,” he informs you.

“He doesn’t know you were there.”

“I know. He didn’t need to.”

“I don’t understand.”

Steve continues to play, his fingers seemingly floating over the keys.

“I do,” he answers you. “Sit.”

When you do, he doesn’t turn around, the music getting darker.

“I’ve always loved a good dark classical piece. Fits my mood when the world around me is unstable. It reminds me of what I’ve gone through to fight for my peace and solitude,” he says, stopping for a moment, turning his head toward you. “What I will do to make sure I keep it.”

“You killed Volstagg.”

“Is that a question or an accusation? Neither will get you the answer you’re looking for.”

“He showed up on Thor’s doorstep.”

“Of course he did. Funeral paid for, family paid off handsomely, my condolences to one of my closest allies already taken care of. Thor has no qualms with me. He understands. Is that what you came for? To parrot things I already know of? I thought you were better than that. Give me something other than regurgitating news.”

“Frank said that you warned Bucky.”

That finally gets Steve’s attention. The blond man stands, closing the cover over the keys.

“I did.”

“I know he isn’t himself. But you wouldn’t kill him.”

“No? And you wouldn’t? You did warn him, didn’t you? Just like I did.”

“How did you -”

“Cut from the same cloth, darlin’. We both let him push our buttons. Want him to do better. The difference is that I’ve known him longer and sometimes the joke about wanting peace and quiet becomes a promise that I find myself wanting to make more often than not. My peace has been interrupted and with recent events being what they are, I can no longer allow my best friend to continue on this path of destruction he’s set for himself.”

“So you’ll kill him?” you blurt out, Steve smiling at your outburst.

“I wouldn’t want my unborn child to never know their uncle but when their uncle is acting like a goddamn fool, I think I’d have a reason to explain why I no longer could have him around.”

“Helena told me everything. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you,” you answer, trying to ignore the shiver that threatens to go down your spine when Steve nods, his eyes boring into yours.

“Helena,” Steve repeats. “It’s a shame she won’t have that funeral. Then again, I don’t think Thor’s wife was going to afford her such a luxury anyway. What do you know that I don’t?”

“The deli was a front. Money laundering, the entire thing -”

“I know. Next?”

“Pierce was running it and -”

“I know.”

Frustrated, you jump up from your seat, furious at how calm he is.

“I know you know! You know everything! I’m sure you knew Volstagg was set up, too. He followed her where she dropped the money, and you took it as a slight when he was trying to help. You could stop all of this if you wanted to but I’m done trying to convince you. I’ve swallowed my pride and came to you first to see what could be done but it seems you have your answer already. I can warn him one last time but the rest is up to you. Congratulations on your baby, Steve. I hope we all live long enough to see them.”

Picking up your purse, you turn to leave, Steve calling out your name as an order for you to stop.

“Is that right?” Steve questions. “I must have missed Volstagg following her. Could have been around the time I…”

He laughs to himself, his finger grazing a scar on his forehead.

“I’ll send you his address,” Steve says after a moment.

“I have it.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve qualifies, smirking. “He tracks me just as much as I track him. He’s on his way to finish Dot.”

“What?”

“Clock’s tickin’,” Steve warns you with a nod. “If more blood is spilled, all bets are off.”

Heading toward the door, you pause for a one moment.

“You really didn’t know about Volstagg following Helena?”

“Temporary lack of discernment.”

He says it through gritted teeth, hiding your smile when you understand what he means.

“She’ll make a good mother,” you tell him, opening the door.

“She will. And it’ll keep her busy, so she stops hiding weapons around the house.”

-

The warehouse that you’re sent to is bleak, busted windows and the frigid weather makes the deserted parking lot slick with ice.

One car is at the end of the lot.

Bucky’s.

Armed to the teeth again, there’s hardly any fear left. If Dot dies, more blood will be spilled and you’re keenly aware of just how close it is to Steve’s territory.

It’s almost too easy to go inside, the graffitied walls telling stories of who came before you and with certain observations by dried up blood, there were those who never got out.

His back is to you, your eyes searching for any sign of Dot.

“He sent you,” Bucky says bitterly.

“He just guided my way. Where is she?”

“She’s there,” he answers you. “Where I left her.”

“Alive?”

“For now.”

“It needs to stay that way.”

He turns around, his bloodshot eyes peering at you.

“Steve give you the burning down the world speech? It’s a killer one, I’ll give him that,” he responds, running his tongue over his teeth.

“You can’t kill her.”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do. What’s funny is that I didn’t even get a chance to end Helena’s life myself. I have Thor’s wife to thank for that. She got impatient, stole her right under my nose. Everyone gets a piece of it except me.”

“You need to rest.”

“I need absolution.”

“You won’t find it here. Not killing her. Not like this. You need to let someone else sort this out. Talk to -”

“I’m not sitting down with Frank’s proxy. Whoever he is, I don’t want the church service. It ends here.”

“Proxy?” you ask.

“Steve wouldn’t let Frank’s empire just topple like that. He had to install a proxy. Whatever they want, they can say it to my face.”

You’re a quick draw, removing the gun from your holster, Bucky��s eyes looking straight into the barrel as you shake your head, eyes full of determination when you finally speak.

“I just did.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mafia fic #steve rogers #thor odinson #sam wilson

[hslllot]

A Soft Landing

2.2K words | harry x reader

-----

First, I’d like to thank everyone for their encouragement and patience when it comes to posting for ASPTF. Although I’m not finished the next part, I thought I’d share this blurb that was originally meant to be in part 3 (that hasn’t been posted yet). So, there are things that are mentioned in this that you might either think are a little spoiler-y OR a little bit of a sneak peek of what’s to come! Second, this was the sweet piece I had in mind for the Sweet and Spicy Fic Challenge that I started with @harry-on-broadway and @harrysblackcoat. I will post the inspo at the end! Enjoy!

-----

Harry considered himself a pretty athletic guy.

He was capable of running around stage for hours, engaging proper breathing techniques in order to sing and jump around at the same time. He worked out regularly, went on a run nearly every day, and often went to pilates classes. He liked boxing and was decent at footie (when he actually managed to get to a game). 

Even when it came to winter sports, he was pretty confident. He’d gone on plenty of ski trips before and managed to stay upright on a skating rink. 

Imagine his surprise when he realized he was shit at snowshoeing. 

It all started with dinner with you and your brother and a few glasses of wine.  In an effort to embarrass you, your brother brought up your stuffed animal collection. When he mentioned a stuffed elephant that you were extremely attached to, even as you got older, your mouth dropped in embarrassment. You smacked him in the arm before you admitted that you hadn’t seen your elephant, Bubba, since you moved to Vancouver. 

“He’s probably somewhere in the shed at the cabin.” Your brother said. 

It was nearly imperceptible but Harry noticed the way your eyes lit up for a fraction of a second at the possibility of finding Bubba. And at that moment, Harry commited to finding him.

In fact, after dinner he got back to the cabin and couldn’t get it off his mind. He stood at the back window and looked out at the large wooden shed, lit by the glow of the moonlight. He wondered what else was in there that might’ve belonged to you. Your old belongings, parts of you, waiting to be discovered. He bundled himself up, grabbed the flashlight from the closet, and trudged through the snow and out to the shed. 

When he started pulling boxes from the shelves, he realized it was basically a museum of all your old stuff. Books and old movies, scrapbooks filled with photos of your childhood friends, even old clothes. You probably didn’t even know what was in there, but if your mother was anything like his, she probably kept it all for its sentimental value “just-in-case” you might want to revisit your 2nd grade report card. 

He spotted the snowshoes on the way out of the shed. He’d seen snowshoes before and knew what they were, yet, it was an activity he’d never tried before. And, maybe, another reason to hang out with you. So he grabbed the contraptions from where they were hung on the wall, along with a few other things he discovered in the shed, and decided to ask you to show him how to use them. 

When you came around the next day, Harry chose not to tell you why he had been in the shed in the first place. And you chose not to ask (even though you had an idea why). 

You told him that snowshoeing was a fairly easy activity, basically a way to walk through the snow. 

“The large surface area of the shoe makes it easier to move on top of deep powder” you explained, showing him the way the straps worked and how it would attach to his boot. 

When he asked you if anyone could do it, you responded: “If you can walk, you can snowshoe.” And so he thought, how hard could it be?

The two of you planned to spend the afternoon snowshoeing. The sun was out and you claimed that it was a great way to explore some of the snow covered trails that he hadn’t been able to explore yet. 

“Are those ski poles?” he asked, as you pulled all of the necessary equipment out of your parents’ shed. You brought your own shoes from your parents’ house, but grabbed the extra set and some poles that were being stored at the cabin, figuring that they would be a better fit for Harry. 

“They’re snowshoe poles,” You replied. “We can adjust them for different snow heights. They’ll probably be helpful when we reach some steeper parts of the trail.”

Harry nodded, deferring to your expertise when it came to anything winter and mountain-related. He thought back to the hike the two of you did last week, the way you guided him through the rough terrain and icy scramble with ease. The way you squeezed his hand when the two of you finally made it to the summit. The way the icy wind painted your cheeks red and made your eyes water while you smiled down at the valley below. The way he couldn’t decide what he liked looking at more, the view from atop the mountain, or you. 

The glee you felt at the top of the mountain was contagious, and he couldn’t wait to go on another adventure with you. 

----

Harry remembered how cold it was on your hike last week, so he made sure to wear some extra layers, along with the new puffer coat he bought at your parents’ shop the other day. 

“What ‘ve you got in there?” He asked, pointing at the bag you were strapping to your back. 

“Just some snacks. Figured we might want to find a place to sit along the trail and enjoy the sunshine. Oh, don’t forget your sunglasses.” 

Harry nodded and grabbed his sunglasses as you made your way out the door and into the winter wonderland. The pinpricks of the cold mountain air contrasted by the heat of the sunshine beaming down on you. You stopped at the end of the porch to strap into the snowshoes, your eyes on Harry’s hands and the way they deftly attached the straps across his boots, just the way you had shown him how to. 

You walked around the snow-covered land surrounding the cabin, encouraging Harry to practice walking around and getting used to the objects strapped to his feet. 

“Just like walking, right?” You asked him. 

“Yea, seems pretty easy.” You knew Harry would have no trouble walking around with the shoes on flat terrain.

“So when we get to some uphill parts of the trails, you’ll want to make sure you use your toe to kick into the snow,” you demonstrated, prompting him to mirror your movements. “And then strike with your heal when we’re going downhill.”

You asked Harry if he felt ready to hit the trail, and he felt pretty confident that it wouldn’t be much different from a regular hike. Besides that, he felt like you were really good at explaining things and knew you would guide him along the way.

-----

It was as the two of you made your way up a particularly steep part of the trail that he started feeling a bit hot. He bundled up extra warm, not realizing how much of a workout he would be getting with the snowshoes, or that you would be so out in the open under the hot sun. He realized wearing a long sleeve shirt, under the hoodie, under the NorthFace puffer was a bit much. It didn’t help that the muscles in his hips and groin area were starting to burn from having to walk with wider-than-normal strides so that he didn’t step on the insides of the snowshoes.

You were ahead of him on the trail, recounting the conversation you had with your boss yesterday. He tried his best to listen to your story, but was hyper aware of the sweat soaking his back. Why didn’t you look as tired as he was starting to feel? He wondered. 

“You ok?” You asked, stopping in your tracks when you noticed it had been a while since he said anything. You looked back to make sure he was OK.

“‘m fine.” He muttered, making an effort to catch up to you. If you were being honest, he looked like he was struggling, but you didn’t want to say anything. Instead you waited for him to meet you where you were and decided you would take it slower the rest of the way up. 

When the two of you were side by side, you eyed him to make sure he was actually fine before continuing up the trail. 

“So did you remember to FaceTime your mom last night?”

Your question didn’t fully register in his brain. It was like it happened in slow motion, the way his foot kicked out a bit too far and the heel edge of his snow shoe dug into the powder at the wrong angle. He flew backwards, the hiking poles useless when it came to helping him regain his footing. He let himself fall, knowing the fluffiness of the snow protected him, barely feeling the force of gravity in the collision.

You looked to find him on his back, and made sure to hold back laughter until you assessed the situation in case he was hurt. He took his sunglasses off and wiped the snow off his face, wearing a smile that indicated that he was fine - his face tinged a bit red, whether it was from the cold or from embarrassment you were unsure. 

After a few seconds, you couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. Harry propped himself up, leaning back on his elbows in the snow. He shook the snow from his hair and you noted the stray wet curl that had fallen on his forehead. 

Could he get any cuter? You thought to yourself.

“Ah yes, very funny. Keep laughing!” He said. “You just gonna stand there, or help me up?”

“Hey, if you’re going to fall, it might as well be in a foot of powder,” you said as he jokingly rolled his eyes and reached his hand out to you. 

Taking his gloved hand in yours, instant regret washed over you.

You should have seen it coming. You should have noticed the glint in his eye and the devilish grin he wore as he reached out to you. By the time you did notice, it was too late, and instead of pulling himself up he dragged you down with him. Unlike him, you didn’t have the reaction time to catch yourself before faceplanting in the snow. 

“HA!” He cackled and you could feel the way he shook in laughter while you remained face down in the snow. When you finally turned yourself over onto your back, you feigned annoyance and he muttered an insecere “sorry” with the biggest grin plastered across his face. He could tell you were holding back a smile too, though, your face wet with eyelashes covered in snow. 

As his laughter died down he admitted, “if ‘m honest, this is harder than I thought it’d be.” 

You nodded. “I probably could have chosen an easier trail…” You didn’t want to admit that you chose the harder trail because it would take longer, allowing you to spend the entire afternoon together. You knew Harry was a fit guy, and that snowshoeing on a normal, flatter trail would have been too easy. Too quick. 

“Maybe now’s a good time for a break? Snack time?”

Harry agreed. “Do you have room in your pack for one of my layers?” 

Nodding, you pulled two prepared sandwiches out of your bag. You went to hand one to Harry when you looked up and found him undressing next to you. You couldn’t help but stare when he pulled his hoodie over his head, the shirt underneath riding up to reveal his tattooed torso. 

Harry caught you staring, but made a conscious effort not to say anything, so not to embarrass you. Instead he said, “trade you?” pulling you out of your stupor. 

You handed him a sandwich before taking the hoodie from his hands and stuffing it into the bag. He could tell you were a bit flustered, and he thought it was endearing. 

The two of you sat in the snow for a while, eating your snacks under the sun. He told you about the FaceTime call he had with his mother the night before, and asked you to retell the story about your conversation with your boss, since he’d been too distracted to listen before. And as you told your story animatedly, between bites of your sandwich, Harry couldn’t help but think: You were right. If he was going to fall, there’s no better, softer, place to fall than in a foot of powder… with you.  

-----

As random as it might seem, my inspiration for this was this photo…

Imagine Harry, leaning back like this, propped up on his elbows surrounded by snow and sunshine, grinning like that because he just dragged you into the snow with him. 

Anyways… Thank you so much for reading!! As always, please let me know what you think. You can read the first two parts of ASPTF here. I look forward to posting part 3!! It’s going to be a long one… (ps yes I changed all the ASPTF headers because harry was literally papped wearing the exact puffer that MC and her parents wear in the first two parts!)

COME TALK TO ME!

#a soft place to fall #my writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #SweetandSpicyFicChallenge #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff

[daddy-dins-girl]

Kindred - Chapter 5

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)

Word Count: 7.8k

Chapter Summary: You and Max finally go on a date, and get to have an entire night together without the impending threat of a 6 year old sleeping just down the hallway ;)

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut. (So much smut). Oral sex. Vaginal fingering. Maxwell's tie from chapter one makes a return to the scene and I'm telling you now it comes with its own warning. Unprotected p in v sex. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Praise kink, goodboy!maxwell. If I missed anything else, lmk!

Saturday morning you wake up, unfortunately, to cold sheets beside you and an otherwise empty bed. It’s early, you know this because the alarm to get Alistair up hasn’t gone off yet and you idly wonder where Max has gone to. You did go to bed rather early last night because he had been so jet lagged so you’re not surprised he’d been up early, his internal clock probably still not readjusted back to this timezone yet.

You sit up, rubbing your tired eyes and a little smile crosses your lips when you look down and are reminded that you had gone to bed in Max’s dress shirt last night. Almost as if on instinct, you grab the collar and bring it up in front of your nose and take a deep inhale and a dreamy little sigh escapes you when the lingering scent of Max invades your senses. You’ll have to remember for next time how absolutely divine it is to wake up in his clothes that are still smelling of him so you can make sure you do it again.

And given Max’s reaction to seeing you in it last night, you don’t think he’ll be opposed to the idea.

You push out of the bed to get up and go to the bathroom when a little folded piece of paper on the nightstand catches your eye. Opening it up a smile automatically crosses your lips when you recognize Max’s loopy handwriting.

Angel, got up early, thought I’d get a head start on my day to be sure I’m free in time for dinner. I’m looking forward to it and can’t wait. Will pick you up at your place (this is a date, and I’m a gentleman!) at 7:00. See you then, Maxwell xoxo

You have a little giggle at his note. It’s sweet that he wants to treat this as authentic a date as possible. And he rightly assumed you’d want to go to your own home to get ready there. Of course you have basic essentials here, but you really want to go all out on your hair and makeup for tonight and look your best so you’ll need to go home first where you have access to your full arsenal of beauty products.

Your fingers ghost along the end of the note where Max had signed his name with hugs and kisses and you feel like you’re in fourth grade again and just got passed a note from a boy you’re crushing on. You laugh to yourself and shake your head but you refold the note up regardless and take it into the bathroom with you to shove it into the pocket of your discarded Pajama shorts from the night before because you are absolutely going to be keeping this cute little note and tucking it away somewhere safe in your room later.

The rest of the morning is busy. You get Alistair his breakfast and then park him in front of the TV so you can get some things done around the house. You do Alistair’s laundry, strip Max’s bed and remake it with fresh linens (though you’re hoping the two of you are just going to ruin them tonight, you still want everything to start off as perfect as possible) and then as your waiting for the laundry to finish a thought crosses your mind and you grab Alistair and get into your car for a quick trip down to the corner store.

You’re not home very long before Alistair’s mother arrives to pick him up and the two of you exchange hellos and have a quick little chat while Alistair runs down the driveway to get in the car, eager to get his weekend with his mom started.

“Oh, before you go,” you begin as you run quickly over the kitchen and grab the few things you had picked up from the store this morning and put them all in a bag. “I figured you haven’t been home in a couple weeks, you probably wouldn’t have fresh milk and bread and basics and stuff and I’m sure the last thing you want to do now is go grocery shopping” you explain as you hold out the bag to her and she smiles warmly at you and puts a hand over her heart.

“Oh my gosh, that is so thoughtful, thank you so much! You’re right, I didn’t even think about that, my head is just…” she motions wildly with a wave of her hand, “all over the place, you know?”

“I’m very sorry about your mother” you say sincerely. “I’m glad at least that they think they can help her. She’s very lucky to have you to be with her” you offer a kind smile.

“Thank you, yes, we’re staying optimistic” she smiles back. “And thank you for just… everything you do for Alistair, and of course for stepping in the last two weeks, last minute like that. I’m sure Max has expressed how much he appreciates it but I really do as well, so thank you” She smiles again and reaches to place a hand on your arm and offers a small squeeze.

“It’s no problem, I love that Alistair to bits. He’s a really great kid” you say sincerely and Sofia nods in agreement.

Your pleasant chat however is broken up when Alistair hangs his head out the car window and starts yelling for his Mom to hurry up and you both have a little laugh at his impatience (’gets that from his father’, Sofia remarks) but you say your goodbyes and wave from the door to Alistair until you see the car disappear down the street.

The rest of your day seems like it just drags on and on. You decided to head home after Alistair got picked up and do a little tidying around your apartment and then try and distract yourself with first a book and then some TV until it's finally late enough that you can shower and begin to get ready for your date. Now the time seems to pass way too quickly and you’re still putting the finishing touches on your appearance when you hear a knock at your door.

“Shoot” you mutter as you run off to the bedroom to grab your shoes. Thankfully the pair you had your mind set on wearing tonight is right at the front of your closet so you don’t have to waste time ransacking the place and you quickly slip them on before turning to your full length mirror, smoothing down your dress and giving yourself a final once over. Satisfied with the result you take a steadying breath and then head for the door, smiling wide when you open it.

“Sorry, I was just-” the words die on your lips as your gaze immediately zeroes in on the tie he’s chosen to wear this evening. The tie. The infamous navy blue tie with the gold paisley pattern that started it all. Tonight he’s pairing it with a black three-button suit with a light blue shirt and gold cufflinks to match the pattern color in his tie and it takes you a few seconds to realize you’ve stopped speaking and you’re just standing there staring at him with your mouth still half open mid-sentence.

“Angel you look breathtaking” Max compliments, snapping you back to reality. His smile is bright and genuine as he takes another step forward and leans in to brush a kiss to your cheek.

“And you look very handsome, Maxwell. I like the tie” You tease with a wink and you see a bit of a blush rise up his neck.

“I thought you might” he smirks and then begins fiddling nervously with his cufflinks before he smooths his hands down the imaginary wrinkles in his jacket and squares his shoulders again, taking a breath.

“Are you ready, my dear?” He asks and you nod.

The restaurant Max takes you to is beautiful. All low lighting and romantic candlelight and an extensive wine list that is almost all in French which you don’t speak a word of, but thankfully Max seems to know what he’s doing and orders a bottle of something after only a brief glance at the menu.

“Very good choice sir” the waiter agrees with a curt nod and then turns to take his leave.

“Do you think they always say that?” You find yourself asking suddenly, your face scrunched up a little in thought.

“What’s that?” Max asks, not following.

“Complimenting your taste in wine. Like do you think you could order the most dog shit wine on the list and they’re just pre-programmed to tell you that you’ve made an excellent choice?” You say and Max rewards you with a genuine laugh that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. You don’t really go to fancy places like this (mostly because you can’t afford it) but you’ve seen enough of these scenes play out in movies and television to know what they’re like.

“Well I guess next time we’ll order the… what was it? Dog shit wine? And we’ll see what happens…” He jokes and now it’s you that’s laughing, just as your server returns with the very good bottle of wine.

“Are we celebrating anything this evening?” The waiter asks, making polite conversation as he holds his arm out with a napkin draped over it and pours a small sample of the wine for Max to taste.

“A… first date” Max replies after a moment, winking across the table at you and you give him a smile in return, the butterflies returning to your stomach.

“Oh first date, wow. Forgive me, you just seemed so comfortable with each other I thought perhaps a wedding anniversary” The server comments just as Max gives the wine a quick swirl around the glass before taking a small sip.

“Excellent” Max concludes on the wine and the server gives a nod before he fills Max’s glass and then your own and excuses himself, saying he’ll be back shortly.

“To my radiant wife on our wedding anniversary” Max says teasingly, raising his glass to you.

“Easy slugger, let’s just try and get through the first date first and see how it goes, okay?” You joke back before clinking your glass against his and you both take a sip.

Dinner seems to fly by. Maybe it was because you had barely seen each other for a week, but you and Max never seem to run out of things to talk about. You ask him a lot of questions about London because you’re genuinely curious about the city and the architecture and the culture and he’s fairly knowledgeable despite not having spent a lot of time there himself. He asks you about what your travel bucket list would be - London excluded, he already knows it’s one of the places you’d love to see - and the conversation just continues flowing until you’re cleaning the last morsel of creme brulee off of Max’s offered fork while your server drops off your bill at the table.

“Max thank you for dinner, that might have been the best meal I’ve ever had” you tell him as he closes up the leather bound fold after tucking his credit card inside and hands it back.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Angel” he smiles warmly at you, reaching across the table to hold your fingers with his.

“I mean it Max this is… It’s really nice, that you did this for me. For us” And you mean that. Max didn’t have to take you out or spend money on you but he wants to and you’re more than happy about it. Not that you need him to take you to fancy places or spend money on you, but it's just nice that he wants to put in an effort.

“Look, I know things may be a little… unconventional for us” Max begins with a shrug, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles now of the hand he’s still holding. “But you deserve this. To be treated right. Special. Because you are, very special to me” he finishes and brings your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it.

“Thank you Max” you smile warmly and give his hand a light squeeze.

The drive back to Max’s house is practically torture. Your whole body is thrumming with an excited but slightly nervous energy. It feels like you’ve been waiting for this night, for this moment, for so long when in reality it’s only been a couple of weeks.

And you still can’t believe he wore that damn tie… certainly not helping matters any.

“You um… still want to come back to mine?” Max asks a little nervously from beside and seeing that he’s just as flustered as you are, it actually helps settle your own nerves and you give him a smile, reaching across the console to interlock your fingers with this over the gear shifter. The question almost throws you for a loop before you realize that Alistair is not home which means technically you could just go back to your own place for the entire weekend until Sunday night if you wanted to, because that’s what happens when Alistair is not there to be cared for, you go to your own home. But that was before. Before Mr. Lord was just Max. Before you were his Angel.

“More than anything” you answer him with and the relieved breath that leaves his lips doesn’t escape your notice. It also doesn’t escape your notice how Max’s foot presses a little bit harder down on the gas pedal once you’ve confirmed your destination.

When you get inside the house Max looks a little nervous again, hands smoothing down over the tops of his thighs as he stands near the doorway.

“Do you want some more wine?” He asks but you simply shake your head and give him a coy smile.

“No”

He smiles back, releasing a breath and then takes a step closer to you so you’re mere inches apart. He cradles your face in both his hands and then he’s kissing you. It’s deep and slow and sensual the way he breathes you in and slides his tongue against yours as you swallow each other's moans. He takes a step closer, walking you backwards until your back hits the front door and he’s still on you, never breaking the kiss. One of his large hands leaves your face and smooths down your side to hold at your waist while the other finds purchase on your throat, angling your head just right so his mouth can begin its slow attack on the other side as his lips slide down your jaw to your neck.

“Max,” you breathe out, chest heaving already. Max only answers you with a moan into the hollow of your throat as he kisses and licks at the soft flesh.

“Baby, take me to bed” you whisper into his ear and he plants a couple more quick kisses on you before he pulls back slightly and wordlessly grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs.

You get into the bedroom and immediately notice how candles have littered the room on every surface. Max must’ve set it up when he got home from work, and he quickly starts moving around the space to light each one while you wait patiently, standing next to the bed.

“Someone was presumptuous” you tease. “Thinking you were gonna get lucky on a first date huh?”

Max lights the last candle and then strides over to you and tucks some hair behind your ear before his hand rests on your cheek as he confesses quietly, “Angel I’m already lucky”.

“Sweet boy” you smile before taking his hand from your cheek in both of yours and bringing to your lips to kiss his palm. “Will you…” you trail off, dropping his hand but turn your back to him so you’re facing the bed and gesture with a nod of your head to the zipper at the back of your dress.

Max agrees with a nod but deliberately takes his time with it, because of course he does. Both his hands land on your hips and he pulls you a little closer so he can lean forward and start placing kisses all over the back and sides of your neck and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine.

“Feels good Baby” you murmur as you tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, giving him better access and your arm reaches up behind you to hold around his head so your fingers can push through his hair.

Max hums into your throat, continuing to place hot, wet kisses everywhere he can reach as his hands begin smoothing upwards until he has a handful of each of your breasts in his hands over your dress and he gives a little squeeze and you moan, your hand in his hair gripping a little tighter.

He’s kissing your neck and side of your face and alternating between massaging your breasts and just running his hands all over your stomach and chest and sides for several minutes and it’s like he’s everywhere all at once but you still need more.

You need out of this dress, for starters.

Max thankfully seems to be as in tune with your body as you and knows what you need before you have a chance to voice it and finally you hear the slow drag of the zipper at the back of your dress coming down. A little drawn out whine leaves your lips when Max’s tongue starts following the path down your spine where he’s slowly revealing your smooth flesh to him and the lower the zip goes, so does Max until he’s suddenly down on his knees behind you when the dress finally falls to your feet and he’s helping you step out of it.

“Pretty” you hear him mumble as his hands come up to drag along the edges of the the baby pink lace panties you had picked out at the mall yesterday. It matches the bra you’re wearing as well, only he hasn’t noticed that yet from his position behind you.

“Max,” you whimper as his mouth plants little kisses to the globes of your ass.

“Lean over the bed” he instructs you, gently pushing on your lower back and you follow the pressure of his hand, bending at the waist until your top half is lying down on your stomach on the side of the bed while your feet are still planted on the floor with Max behind you on his knees.

“Max?” You begin to question what exactly he’s doing as he gently pushes your legs a little wider apart but then a gush of air leaves your lungs and you moan out loud when he suddenly pulls your panties to the side and buries his face in your cunt, licking and prodding at you with his tongue.

“Oh my god!”

“Mmmm, you taste so good Angel” he praises as he continues licking through your folds and reaching a little further forward to swirl the tip of his tongue around your clit and your knuckles turn white as they grip the bedspread, hanging on for dear life while Max unravels you whole. Something about him being on his knees for you is doing all kinds of things to you and you turn your head so your cheek is resting on the bed and try desperately to look behind you so you can get a view of what Max is doing but you mostly just see the top of his head and his hands on your ass.

“Baby let me turn over, wanna see” you pant, a little breathless from how close to the edge Max has brought you already. He groans into your throbbing center and places a few more kisses before he dutifully shuffles back a few inches giving you some room. You flip over onto your back, legs still dangling over the edge and push yourself up on your elbows. Max’s pupils are blown out, his hair is a wild mess and his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and calm himself down but as always, he can’t help himself around you. He’s sitting back on his heels, hands on his thighs seemingly waiting for your permission to begin again and hell if it doesn’t ignite something even further in you.

“You look good like this baby” you mention with a grin, bringing one foot up to rub into his shoulder and his eyes close as he lets out a little whimper. He turns his head and bends it down slightly to place a kiss to the inside of your ankle and then brings a hand up to smooth up and down your calf.

“I like you on your knees for me” you begin, biting on your lower lip when his eyes reopen and stare right into yours, lust blown and wanting. “But I’d like it even better if you were naked” you add and he raises an eyebrow but otherwise says nothing before he starts to undress.

He begins by shoving his jacket down his arms and tossing it aside, then loosens his tie and starts undoing his shirt buttons one by one. His hands go to pull the tie up and over his neck but suddenly you reach a hand out in a gesture to stop.

“Wait!” You say and he freezes, tie half way over his head. “Leave that on” you instruct and you hear him whimper a little ‘fuck’ and does as he’s told, pulling it back down around his neck and then freeing himself of his dress shirt next.

“It’s been driving me crazy all night” you say in explanation. “You were a naughty little thing weren’t you, wearing that tie for me, hmm?”

“Yes Angel, I’m sorry” Max is practically squirming. Hands smoothing over his legs, desperate to be back on you but he sits otherwise still and waits for you to release him.

“Take off everything else” you instruct, lightly shoving at his shoulder with your foot before removing it and he quickly scrambles to his feet and eagerly tugs and pulls at his belt to get it free and then shoves his pants and boxers down the ground and kicks them off until he stands bare before with just the tie still loosely hanging around his neck.

You say nothing, but make a 'come hither' gesture with the crook of your finger and Max takes a step forward so he’s standing between your knees and then he bends forward, close enough that you’re able to grab the end of his tie, wrap it around your hand and pull him close so you can rise up further on your elbows and kiss him. He brings one hand down flat on the bed to hold himself up and the other rests gently on your rib cage, his thumb softly caressing back and forth as you kiss and lick into his mouth. You’re kissing for a few long moments, occasionally tugging on the tie to bring him even closer and then he moans into your mouth when your free hand reaches down and gently strokes his length from where it hangs just mere inches away from your still clothed sex and you can feel how hard and ready he is for you already. He’s practically trembling above you. If he lowered his hips just an inch or two his cock would be against you and he could take what you’ve both been waiting so long for, but you’re not quite done with him yet. The tempting vision of him stripped down and on his knees pleasing you is just too good to pass up.

“Back on the floor, my gorgeous boy” you instruct as you pull back from him slightly. “I wanna cum in this pretty mouth first” you tell him, running a fingertip along his bottom lip and he groans but then pulls it into his mouth and sucks.

“Yes, good boy” you praise him and he grins before resuming his kneeled position on the floor between your legs.

“May I?” Max asks, placing his hands on your hips and holding the elastic edges of your panties.

“Yes baby, take them off”

He wastes no time, peeling them off your legs but then does take just a quick moment to rub the material between the pads of his fingers as a smile spreads across his lips.

“They’re almost too pretty to take off” he comments, mesmerized by the little scrap of lace in his hands, but then his head turns to your glistening sex between spread legs and his eyebrow raises as he drops the panties to the floor, forgotten.

“But not as pretty as you” he adds, shuffling slightly closer on his knees and then grabs your hips with both hands and hauls you further to the edge of the bed so your ass is practically hanging off of it. You don’t have to worry about falling though because suddenly he takes both of your legs and drapes one over each of his shoulders and his hands come down to wrap up under your thighs and hold you down at your hips before he’s diving straight back in and your whole upper body practically jolts upright at the sudden burst of pleasure that rocks you.

“Mmmmmm” he moans into your sex, lapping at you and nuzzling and kissing and sucking and your hips and thighs are already trembling from his efforts.

“Yes, Max. Fuck, so good” you pant, lowered back down onto your elbows again and watching Max as he eats you out like a man starved. “Oh baby you’re so good”

That seems to spurn Max on even further and he buries his face deeper into your wet heat, moaning his appreciation for your praise into your core and sending little vibration shockwaves through you.

“Oh fuck,” your head falls back onto the bed, not able to hold yourself up anymore and your ankles cross over each other behind Max, trying to keep him as close as possible. “More, god please Max, I need more”

Ask and ye shall receive apparently because the next thing you know one of his hands leaves your hips and you’re feeling a completely new and strange sensation at your entrance. His fingertips are prodding you but there’s something else, a barrier between his fingers and your hole and it’s smooth and silky and suddenly you’re jolted back up onto your elbows as you realize he’s using his fucking tie on you.

He brushes it through your folds, smearing your juices over the area where his fingers are behind it before he’s back at your entrance and shoving two fingers inside covered by the tie and you cry out.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! Ohhhhhh Max, oh my god, yes baby, yes”

Max groans into your cunt, licking into you with renewed enthusiasm as he feels you climbing that peak that he so desperately wants to push you over. His fingers are still working you in and out and his tie is going to be fucking ruined but it’s the last thing on his brain. He has half a mind to frame the damn thing by this point anyway. Build it its own trophy case and display it proudly on his bedroom wall over his bed.

“Baby I’m gonna cum” you whine, trembling under his hold on you as the taught thread in your lower abdomen threatens to snap. “Oh please, please” you beg, needing just a little bit more and he gives just what you need, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers curl into just the right spot and you cry out, lurching forward so you can grab the back of his head and ride his face as wave after wave releases over you until you’re completely drained and you flop back down onto your back, completely boneless and utterly spent.

Max slows down but continues softly licking and kissing and nuzzling into you, moaning his adoration for you into your still throbbing sex. He carefully pulls his fingers and the tie out of you and you let out a little groan at the loss of feeling so full of him. He begins planting kisses to the top of your mound and then insides of your thighs before he finally takes your shaking legs off his shoulders and crawls up and puts his hands under you so he can haul you further up the bed and then he collapses at your side on the bed, his hand coming to rest on your stomach and rubbing small comforting circles on it.

“Was that okay Angel?” He asks so quietly, your sweet Maxwell. Checking in even after giving you an earth shattering orgasm.

“Baby” you sigh, chest still heaving from exertion. Your brain can’t seem to formulate any kind of sentence so instead you roll onto your side to face him, grab a fistful of his tie again and kiss him, hard.

“That was incredible” you say, pulling back after a few long seconds of kissing. “But you can literally never wear this tie in public again or I’ll fucking die from embarrassment. I don’t care if you get it dry cleaned or not, this scrap of silk is never leaving this bedroom” you insist, but your tone is playful and he knows you’re far from upset at how he used it.

Max just smirks at you and then brings your hand up that’s holding his tie and places a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yes I think this one will have to retire” he teases. “It’ll be just for us” he adds with a little wink before he pulls it over his head and tosses it to the floor.

You lay there another minute, still trying to catch your breaths and then Max’s fingertips are tracing the bottom edge of your lacy pink bra and he’s smiling as he pushes himself up on one elbow to look down at you.

“Matching set” he states as he’s just now noticing anything not below your waist, a little smirk forming at his lips. “Somebody was presumptuous for a first date” he teases, tossing your own remarks back at you and you laugh, tossing your head back.

“Come here” you finally say, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you.

The kiss is soft and unhurried as you lazily stroke each other's tongues and explore mouths. One of Max’s hands starts smoothing up your side and then moves to your breast, massaging it under his large palm and you press your chest further into his touch and let out a little moan.

“Max?” You mumble between kisses.

“Hmmm?”

You break the kiss, hold his face with both your hands and look him in the eyes as you say the words that you’ve been wanting to for so long.

“Make love to me?”

Max simply nods his head once and then lowers just slightly to press one last kiss to your closed lips before he pulls back.

Wordlessly you both reposition on the bed so neither of you are at risk of falling off the edge. You settle on your back at the top of the bed by the headboard, head nestled in a sea of pillows and Max crawls over top of you. You push up slightly so you can reach behind yourself and unclasp your bra, pulling the straps down your arms and tossing it aside, wanting to feel completely unburdened when Max lowers his body onto yours.

“So beautiful” he murmurs, so softly you almost don’t even hear it, like he’s just simply overwhelmed by you.

“Sweet boy” you hum, bringing a hand up to brush through his hair.

“By the way I um… I have an I.U.D. just so you know so…” you trail off, you don’t think you need to spell out anymore what you’re telling him and he smiles, bending down to capture your lips again.

“Are you ready Angel?” He asks once he pulls back from the kiss and you nod your head eagerly.

Max pushes himself up to his knees and grabs for one of the discarded pillows on the bed and drags it towards him, tapping your hip with his hand and you lift your hips so he can place it underneath you. He repositions himself in between your legs but before he does anything else he leans down and places warm wet kisses all over your body; to each of your breasts, your sternum, your ribs, abdomen, hips, and one final kiss to your mound before he straightens back up on his knees again and you can’t help it but you’re smiling at him like an absolute fool in love.

His hands come down to rest on each of your outer thighs and he drags them up and then back down until his hands hook under you knees and he pushes your legs up so they’re bent at your knees with your feet flat on the mattress and then finally he grabs his achingly hard dick and guides it notch at your entrance.

“Um Max,” you start before he actually pushes inside you. “It’s been um… a while?” You admit sheepishly, your cheeks coloring slightly. “Will you just, start slow”

Max doesn’t answer right away, just lowers his upper body down so he can kiss you, soft and sweet and full of promise.

“Whatever you need Angel” he whispers against your lips and then presses a kiss to the tip of your nose before he raises back up just slightly, and then he guides himself inside, slowly, inch by inch and letting out a soft groan when he finally gets inside your warmth.

“Are you ok?” He asks, stopping about half way in to check with you. Your bottom lip is between your teeth but you nod your head enthusiastically. There’s a stretch for sure but it’s far from unpleasant. You want more.

“Baby you feel so good inside me, keep going” you encourage and he has to close his eyes and take a breath so he doesn’t slam his hips the rest of the way into you like he wants to when he hears words like that falling from your lips.

“Angel you’re,” he trails off for a moment, sucking a breath through his teeth as he pushes deeper inside. “God you’re so tight, feels so good”

You’re not surprised, it feels like he’s splitting you open (though in the best possible way) and you certainly weren’t lying when you said it’s been a while. You haven’t dated in an embarrassingly long time since your last ex broke your heart and you haven’t been interested in anybody until Max came into your life. But now that he’s here, there’s no one you’d rather be with.

He finally bottoms out and you release a breath you’d been holding as Max stills inside you.

“I’m ok, you can move” you assure him but he shakes his head just slightly and doesn’t move.

“Just um… I just need a second” he says and then proceeds to take a few deep slow breaths and your lips curl up into a sly smile. Maybe it’s been a while for him too and the fact that he needs to concentrate so hard on not cumming immediately does give your ego a bit of a little boost.

“My god Angel you’re so perfect” he groans before he finally pulls almost all the way out and then pushes back in and you moan, hands coming down to grip the sheets beneath you.

“Ok?” He asks and you nod frantically.

“Yes, baby keep going, I’m ok"

And he does. He pulls nearly all the way out again and slides easily back in over and over again at a slow pace until you’re freely moaning and he knows you’re past the initial stretch. He shifts slightly, pulling your legs up further so your feet are off the mattress and he’s pushing them towards you, folding you in on yourself while still pumping his hips in and out and suddenly he’s hitting deeper which each thrust with how he has you held and your hands come up to grip his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin.

“Oh god Baby, you’re so deep in me, feels so good” you’re panting and moaning and doing everything you can to chase his hips with your own.

“Yeahhhh, just like that” Max soothes, his slow thrusts gradually gaining momentum with every whine and whimper that passes your lips, encouraging him. “Fuck you feel incredible”

He pushes your legs further still until he has you practically folded in half and he’s holding himself up above you almost in a push-up stance and begins lowering himself up and down, up and down over and over again sliding in and out of you at a much faster pace now and he’s hitting you so deep it’s like he’s impaling you with his cock with each push and you’re instantly brought to the edge; writhing and moaning and shaking underneath him.

“Yes Max, right there, oh fuck, baby. Oh don’t stop”

He doesn’t. He doubles his efforts, slamming into you over and over as you cry out and dig your nails so hard into his skin that he has to grit his teeth through the pain but he fucks you through it, getting lost in the blissed out expression that comes over you when you finally hit that peak and the second your relase washes over you he has to pull out and squeeze at the base of his cock for a moment; the way your walls just clamped down on him nearly sending him over his own edge.

Your giggling in your fucked out euphoria and it causes a little huff of laughter out of Max too as he strokes his length a few times and then brings it down to push through your folds to cover him in your slick again and your hips jolt at the oversensitivity before you settle once more.

Max lowers himself onto his side, having used up much of his stamina in the last position and rearranges you again so the pillow is no longer under you and just your leg closest to him is now raised as he holds it up and he pushes back inside you before easing in and out slowly again.

“Ohhhhhhh,” you whimper, eyes closing voluntarily at the pleasure the new angle gives you. He continues going slow for now, thankfully (probably for both your sakes) because you’re still overstimulated and he wants to make himself last as long as possible.

He fucks you slowly, his forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder as he pumps his hips in and out, in and out. You feel that slow build again, deep in your abdomen as the minutes tick by and he continues his steady and deep thrusts.

"Angel you feel amazing" he murmurs against your skin. "Feels so good to be inside you"

"Oh Max" you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Baby I love having you inside me, don't stop"

Before too long your little whines and whimpers let him know you’re getting close again so he takes two fingers and and sucks them into his mouth before bringing them down to play with your clit and you lurch forward, pushing up on your elbows as another impending orgasm racks your body. Max pushes harder and faster with each thrust until he feels your walls flutter around him and whispers little words of encouragement into your ear, giving you that final push over the edge.

“Oh my god, yes, yes, yes,” you chant, delirious. It hits you as hard as the last one and you cum with a long drawn out moan as Max slows his thrusts once again.

“Fuck Angel” Max groans and suddenly he’s pulling out of you and on his knees between your legs before he lowers himself down and starts licking and mouthing at your throbbing cunt, apparently needing to give his dick a break so your night doesn’t end before he wants it to.

“Baby, oh my god, I can’t” you’re squirming below him, barely past your last peak when you feel another quickly approaching right on it’s heels. Max doesn’t let up, feeling the way your thighs lock around his head he knows your close again. He spreads your lower lips with his fingers and swirls his tongue around your clit before sucking it into his mouth and you're practically convulsing from underneath him, trying desperately to thrust up into him and chase the pressure of his tongue.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum again”

Max moans into you and then shoves three fingers inside you without warning and curls them and your resolve breaks instantly and you’re flooding his mouth and fingers with your release and he keeps moaning as he happily laps you up with long broad stripes of his tongue up you’re center until your pushing at his shoulders, the stimulation too much.

He relents, thankfully, and removes his mouth and fingers from you and crawls back up your body again until he’s laying on top of you, one arm holding himself just steady enough up so that he’s not crushing you with his weight and he leans down and kisses you soundly. You moan when you taste the evidence of your multiple orgasms on his tongue.

He keeps kissing you like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing but you know he’s got to be painfully hard by this point and in all honestly this has gone on far longer than you initially expected it to and besides that, you don't think you physically have it in you to give him another orgasm. Being your first time together and all, you certainly weren’t expecting the marathon that Max was putting you through (not that you were complaining, mind you).

“Baby” you murmur between kisses and then your hand travels between your bodies until it reaches his cock and you wrap your hand around it. He moans into your mouth at your touch and you smile into the kiss as you guide him back to your entrance.

“I won’t last” Max admits, shaking his head gently, his forehead coming to rest on yours.

“I know, let go baby”

“Fuck” he curses before pushing inside with one deep thrust and you both moan in unison. He felt beyond amazing before of course, but having him like this with his weight on top of you and kissing you tenderly as he rocks in and out of you is just everything you ever wanted it to be.

He tears his lips away from yours after a minute and sucks a breath in through his teeth as he starts pistoning into you harder and faster, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets close to his release.

“Yes Maxwell, cum for me sweet boy, please baby” you encourage him and that seems to do him in. He cums with a loud groan as he pushes into you a few more times, cock pulsing inside of you as he empties himself and then slumps down on top of you, breathing heavily and his heart racing against yours.

“Good boy” you whisper quietly into his hair, bringing your hands up to push through it and Max whimpers into your throat and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Stay inside me sweet boy, please, just a little bit. Wanna feel you” you coo and Max nods frantically against your neck. You knew he’d like that. You wrap your legs around his back and gently begin rocking your hips, doing whatever you can to keep him from softening inside you too quickly and soon he’s matching your little thrusts with his own until finally he pushes once more as deep as he can and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug for several long seconds and then he regretfully pulls out and rolls over onto his back, his cock soft and spent between his legs.

“Baby that was incredible” you tell him, snuggling up to his side and leaning down to plant a kiss to his chest.

You were incredible” he corrects and you playfully roll your eyes and swat his chest.

“Fine we’ll call it a draw” you tease before placing another kiss, this time to his shoulder.

“I’ll be right back” Max says, rolling to the edge of the bed and pulling himself up on tired legs with a groan. He wanders into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running for a few seconds before he’s back in the bedroom and sitting down beside you at your waist with a washcloth in his hands.

He brings it down between your legs and cleans you up with the warm towel and you hum your thanks to him, wrapping a hand around his upper arm. Max had to be without a doubt the most attentive lover you’ve ever had and it makes your heart swell as you watch him carefully drag the warm cloth over you and then lean down to plant a single kiss to the middle of your stomach before he rises back up to go dispose of the cloth into the laundry basket. He stops to blow out each of the candles on his way back to you, bathing the room in darkness.

“You’re so sweet to me” you sigh as he crawls into bed beside you, lifting the covers over you both.

“‘Course,” he smirks. “You’re my Angel”

“I’m glad we waited” you hum as you snuggle further into his side. “That was well worth it”

“It was everything Sweetheart, thank you” Max says, leaning his head down to kiss your forehead.

“Not bad for a first date” you giggle and Max laughs, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

You swing one leg over his and try to ignore the tingling in your overused sex as it brushes against his thigh and then drape an arm over his chest so you’re half lying on top of him and he uses the arm that’s underneath you to gently run his fingertips up and down your sides and back, wherever he can reach and his free hand grabs for your leg on his and hikes it a little higher. He smooths his hand up the back of your thigh until he reaches your ass and gently kneads the soft flesh in his hand before releasing and repeating the pattern and you hum into his chest, placing a kiss to it.

You could absolutely fall asleep like this. And within minutes, you do just that.

Taglist @boliv-jenta @suzdin @macabremads @heavennumber2 @prolix-yuy

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord x f!reader #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal characters

[tadpolesonalgae]

AHHH i love TDOT. love love it. It's beautiful and I want to swim in a colorful underwater cave made by azriel.

also I wanted to return to a CBMTHY topic that 🧶 touched on that it gets me everytime. About the IC and noticing that she's gone. You said that it'll be soon-ish because of the magic and prophecy thing and it really makes my heart hurt because it makes me think that if those things weren't happening, they simply would be too wrapped up in their lives to notice she left... and to miss her. At least for a while.

Which gives me some hope that Az will? Like he'll start missing her annoying-bothersome-sometimes soothing-but-also-this is just a job-dammit presence lmao! Be like "gardenias???" and gets his hopes up but then it's just the actual flowers hahaha. And then with her mindset of "it wasn't as bad for me" I understand her not asking for or wanting help. You have to admit something is wrong first, and since she already had 2/3 sisters struggling I get that she shoved it all deep inside and tried to pretend everything is fine. It just seems to me that despite this effort on her end, she still transpired to be struggling regardless? And these characters, who are usually so attuned to others emotions and mental issues overlooked her specifically. And I need to see them take accountability for that. It just hits home, being the observant one who knows everything about everyone but no one knows about you. I guess that's why I keep bringing this topic of up, of how the IC deals with her. I hope it's not too annoying idfdhbf okay that was a lot of thoughts I'll shut up for now! lots of love - 🥐

‘AHHH i love TDOT. love love it. It's beautiful and I want to swim in a colorful underwater cave made by azriel.’

Honestly it’s such a relief getting to write open affection with Az (mostly open affection) so I’m glad you liked it!! 🧡💛

‘You said that it'll be soon-ish because of the magic and prophecy thing and it really makes my heart hurt because it makes me think that if those things weren't happening, they simply would be too wrapped up in their lives to notice she left...’

Okay this is a good point because I don’t want to write the IC too OOC because yes they are very caring and attentive to one another so it’s really bizarre they haven’t realised the extent of what happening with her, (just like it took Rhys actually kind of going into Nesta’s mind in that one scene from acosf to understand how overwhelming being thrown into the cauldron was for her). It’s just that because of the prophecy and her magic there’s a for-sure reason she’ll be noticed as missing :)

Naturally with her habits of isolation it’s only really Elain, Azriel and sometimes Feyre who would be the most likely ones to realise, but just with those other things on the table it’s going to be a pretty sudden “where is she” moment :)

‘Which gives me some hope that Az will? Like he'll start missing her annoying-bothersome-sometimes soothing-but-also-this is just a job-dammit presence lmao! Be like "gardenias???" and gets his hopes up but then it's just the actual flowers hahaha.’

Unfortunately it’s not something as sweet/happy as that, but I’m surprised you guessed about gardenias being used as a kind of ‘trigger object’! (i guess that’s what it would be called since he’s associated that scent with her?)

Because of how Az is in this story I doubt it’ll be anything as obvious as him overtly missing her, however he might do a few things out of habit that he hasn’t realised had become habits :)

‘And these characters, who are usually so attuned to others emotions and mental issues overlooked her specifically. And I need to see them take accountability for that.’

Yeah, it is weird that they haven’t spotted anything yet.

I guess with Nesta she kind of tried to cut herself off entirely, which is a pretty massive red flag that something’s wrong, so it would be hard to miss, but even then they didn’t really understand the depth of what was happening? Which to be fair, I think is a difficult job for anyone if someone doesn’t talk about it? Since reader’s problems are much quieter and she’s aware (to an extent) there are issues to be resolved it’s made it more difficult to notice since she’s trying to cover it up by not saying what she thinks and trying to be polite?

‘It just hits home, being the observant one who knows everything about everyone but no one knows about you. I guess that's why I keep bringing this topic of up, of how the IC deals with her. I hope it's not too annoying idfdhbf’

It’s not annoying at all!!

The IC in acotar are canonically (how do you spell that help) good at understanding what others are going through and caring about them, so it’s upsetting to see that for some reason reader isn’t getting that level of care and attention when we know how she could really benefit from it :)

‘okay that was a lot of thoughts I'll shut up for now! lots of love - 🥐’

Don’t shut up! Keep telling me all these things!! They’re so exciting and interesting to get to read!! 🧡💛

#🥐 anon <3 #🥐 #cbmthy #🧡💛

[hazbinextgeneration]

Lonely Together

(Warning: Cussing and suggestive themes. If any of Vizviepop's ocs are mentioned they belong to her. Xmas gift for @ynkaliko Prudence belongs to her.)

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

The tall skyscraper was quiet this chilly night. Funny how a place that was supposed to be depicted on constant hellfire would be able to get cold this year. But that's to be expected she guessed. But that wasn't the most surprising part of her night, she just hasn't discovered it yet hidden deep within the walls of the empty offices. It was cold despite being inside, staying in late to handle up things, not like she would be spending the holidays with anyone else right now. After all everyone else had plans already. Loona went ...somewhere (partying with that nice hellhound boy if she remembered right). And her other coworkers were off in another ring entirely visiting family so it was only her taking care of a few last things this late at night. Nothing but her, office work, and the ticking clock on the wall.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

She could even go home after this. All that was left to do was to drop these papers on top of the head honcho's desk for him to do with as he pleased. Easier done than said now as there was no distractions to take her attention away. Although it was too quiet for her tastes. The only noises being the clock and her footsteps walking through the lonely halls. Eventually the creak of the door was opened and she found herself walking past a desk and a giant aquarium of electric eels, the third one to be replaced just that month, The water was hell to get out of the carpet whenever it was eventually destroyed, and over to a secondary door that opened with a louder creak and she just walked right in without a care in the world. The office was big yet simple with posterboards with different business plans pinned to them, a white board with marker and horrible little doodles drawn onto it, and old framed posters hanged on the walls of peeling wallpaper. The old gray desk and worn out office chair was there in the dark room, thanks to all the blinds being shut, and she simply had to walk around the desk in order to place the papers on that...or she would've...if her leg hadn't bumped into something solid making her stumble a bit but thankfully not trip over. And her pink eyes turned to blink at the leg she had stumbled over...and followed it up to a face.

"....Blitz?"

The lump of imp didn't even move for a second but eventually turned his gaze up to her in a weak smile towards her. "Oh Heeeeeeyyyy, Pru-Pru. Pru-Pudding. Sweet little babes! When did you get so tall?~ Not that I'm complaining. Y'know I always thought legs were your best feature." He made a bad attempt of an eyebrow wiggle at her.

She rose a brow back. "Well I could be wrong but aren't you just the one on the floor?"

"Oh fuck the little details will you?" He pouted a frown as big as his horns spread across his face. "If I want to fucking spread my ass on the floor like the aftermath of a train wreck that my own own dam business and yyyyooouuu-" he pointed an accused hand at her unchanging expression. "-stick that nose out of it! Why are YOU here huh!? Stop being so prying of things you shouldn't know!"

"....So what happened while I was gone this time?," she asked instead of commenting on anything he said and just turned to plop the papers on the desk.

He sprung up so comedically fast one would've thought he was a cartoon character. "Oh don't you dare assume anything! I own this fucking establishment and I have my own mod dam right to lay my ass where ever I please. So there!" He shouted which ended with him pouting and crossing his arms as she just calmly stared back.

"...I'll take a wild guess and say you literally have nothing else going on for you today."

She didn't even flinch when the body of said taller imp was suddenly on her. Dropping to his knees, Two arms wrapped around her, and a sad kicked puppy expression was pointed up to her from his face pressed against her stomach.

"Prrruuuudddyyyyyy!!!," he whined pathetically a hand 'dramatically' pressed against his forehead. "I'm already abandoned.~ *insert fake sob* NO ONE WANTS TO BE AROUND ME!! I SHOULD JUST A HORRIBLE AND LONELY DEEEMIIIIIISSE!!!"

"...You want to spend some time together?"

Again he comically sprung up faster than inhumanly possible and both his hands entrapped her between him and the desk. "Oh fucking hell, Pruddy.~ I thought you'd never ask.~" Again another eyebrow wiggle which she amusedly smiled at.

"You knew I'd be working."

"Hey. I am the boss. I make everyone's schedules.~"

"You planned this from the beginning."

"Oh what? No- No, no, no-....Ok, yes. But you can't blame me when I got a gift I don't even have to unwrap is walking right in front of me.~"

"I still don't understand the need to lay on the floor."

"Oh for fucks sake. Gives me a certain...angle on things.~" Translated too it just gave him a perverted view to some things. "Give me an A for being honest-"

A small boop to his nose from her made him give pause long enough for her to chuckle and for him to literally melt in her embrace. Eyes going nearly feral and tail wagging harder behind him as red claws dug harder into the desk.

"The paperwork can wait.~"

[faroreswinds]

Choice

Golden Wildfire Ending: A short fanfiction with the lowest of effort with mostly dialogue cause I’m lazy

---------

“What? There is an invader?” an astonished Claude reeled at the news. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure, Your Majesty.” The panicked messenger spoke quickly and nervously, and with those words the air turned thick with disbelief as the room filled with murmurs. 

It was Lorenz who spoke up first. “But that’s utterly impossible. No one could slip past our defenses so deep in Federation territory. Why, I would sooner believe that-”

“That’s enough, Lorenz,” cut off Claude. He thanked the messenger, then bade him to rally the soldiers inside the fortress for battle. “We need to find them and stop them quickly.”

The messenger bowed and rushed out wordlessly. When the door slammed shut behind him, Claude allowed his hardened face to fall. He raised a hand to his head and his gaze was miles away. 

“I have to say, I did not see that coming...” 

Lysithea, who stood by his side, had a worried look. “Me neither. I did not anticipate someone to send an assassin after our king.”

“Whoa, an assassin? The intruder is an assassin?!” Raphael balked loudly. “But why? The Claudester is the coolest king ever!” 

“Well, we don’t know if the intruder is an assassin or that they are after Claude,” Leonie interjected. “For all we know, they could be a bandit who is particularly bold.”

“Uh-huh...” Lysithea did not look so sure. “Well, it is true that they may not be an assassin, but I do not see why else someone would try to infiltrate our defenses for some other purpose. But the scouts only got a glimpse of them before they slipped away, so I think we should assume the worst.”

Lorenz nodded. “I agree with Lysithea. It is better to prepare for the worst.” He faced his king. “And thus, I think we should get you somewhere safe immediately.”

“No.” Claude’s eyes narrowed. “I cannot just hide while there is someone after my head.”

Everyone turned to look at him now. He stood tall. “It’s probably someone from the Central Church who has come to take their revenge. We hadn’t been able to corral all of their followers yet, and I would not be surprised is someone was mad enough to want me dead.”

“Yes, I suppose it hasn’t been that long,” whispered Marianne. She clasped her hands together, as if to pray for wisdom. “Perhaps it was someone who really loved Lady Rhea.”

Ignatz pushed up his glasses, his fingers shaking. “O-or maybe it was the emperor....”

“Or someone who is angry to see things changing,” Claude proposed. “Regardless, it doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is that someone is here uninvited. We need to find them and capture them. If we can find out why they are here, we can use that to help us weed out where people are unhappy.” 

His tone indicated that the decision was final, and no one said another word on the matter. They agreed to seek out the intruder. As each person rushed off to different corners of the fortress, Claude could not help but feel a wretched pit in his stomach at what all has been transpiring. 

-------

Four Weeks Ago

Claude stood over his desk, his knuckles white as he read the parchment before him again and again. The writing upon it was elegant, the waxen stamp of the Imperial family perfect. And yet, its words were ugly and unwelcomed. 

“So, Edelgard has chosen to not stop her war....” Lorenz said, saddened. “Despite the death of Lady Rhea and the destruction of the Central Church, she continues her assault on the Kingdom anyways?” 

After a moment of hesitation, Claude rolled up the message and gripped it in his hand. 

“Yes, she has chosen not to stop.”

“But the Church was the whole reason for this war, and now it is gone! What other purpose might she have?” 

“We always knew this was a possibility, Lorenz. She had told me herself that she believed the Kingdom needed to be dissolved in order to root out all influences of the Central Church. I had hoped that her debt to me would give me some sway, but says that that is not enough to stop her.”

“Ah... “ Lorenz was taken aback. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened just a little. “And what of King Dimitri? Has the envoy we sent returned with his response?”

Claude shook his head. “The envoy hasn’t returned.”

“Perhaps something has happened to her along the way?”

Or perhaps Dimitri had the envoy taken care of. 

No.

That does not sound like him. Dimitri would have sent a response. 

“Let’s send another one,” Claude proposed, reaching for another piece of parchment. “If we can get Dimitri to agree to stop the war, then we can perhaps avoid more bloodshed.

-------

Present Day

It had been hours, but there was no sight of the intruder. It wore thin on the troops, knowing someone lurked in the shadows. And yet, no matter how hard anyone sought them, the intruder eluded their searches. It was as if they were nothing more than a figment of a tired scout’s imagination. 

This is what would become the story as no one was found. “Ol’ Nort is just seein’ things,” proclaimed one soldier, shaking her head. “Ain’t no soul here. Not enough corners to hide in to go this long unspotted.”

Tensions remained high, but the panic died down. Why would it linger, when it seemed their intruder was nothing but ghost brought on by exhaustion? 

“We are still looking for them, but some of the soldiers are saying that it was a false alarm,” Ignatz just finished reporting to Claude. “So hopefully, that means there is nothing to worry about.”

But Claude was still doubtful. No, something did not sit right with him... call it a hunch. 

“Thanks, Ignatz. You must be tired. Why don’t you turn in for the night?” he proposed to the young knight, gesturing towards the door. 

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” When Ignatz paused, Claude laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve lived through a number of hairy situations. If it turns out someone is still sneaking around, they won’t get the jump on me.”

Ignatz thanked him, somewhat grateful but still uneasy. He bowed and left the room. At the sound of the door closing, Claude’s hand went to his waist where a dagger sat hidden. 

“As I said... they won’t get the jump on me.”

“.... You have good ears.”

Claude whipped around in surprise at the voice, for it was familiar to him and yet, one he did not expect. In fact, it was the last person he expected to see skulking around his fortress.

“Dedue?”

The giant man stepped out from the shadows. “I did not expect you to walk into the room I was already in. This makes things easier.” 

The king’s hand did not move, but his voice was friendly and welcoming. “Dedue! You are a sight for sore eyes. Although, how did you-” Claude’s voice trailed off as he eyed the man closely. How did a man so large as Dedue manage to sneak all the way into this room unseen? It was not as if he was subtle. He towered over every person Claude knew. 

And he was as taciturn as ever, standing there before Claude with an expression that he could not quite read. Anger? Disappointment? 

“Well, I would offer you a drink, but I doubt you are here on friendly business.” Claude casually began to make his way around his desk, to put something solid between himself and his uninvited guest. 

“That is correct.” Dedue made no effort to lie. 

“So. I suppose Dimitri sent you here to kill me.”

“....” 

When Dedue took a step forward, Claude’s hand tightened around his dagger. But Dedue then produced a familiar piece of parchment and laid it down on the desk. 

“Your message. It was received.”

Claude glanced down at it without moving his head. Yes... that was his handwriting all right, and that was his seal. This was the request for a ceasefire he had sent to Dimitri weeks ago. 

“Then it was received.” Claude’s eyes went back to Dedue’s unreadable face. “Although it is a bit unusual for the response to... force their way in and sneak around like a thief. If Dimitri had no intention of stopping the war, a letter would have sufficed.”

“And what happened to the envoy? Did you-”

“She was bade to not return here. I have come in her stead.” Dedue saw the look Claude gave him. “Do not worry, she is unharmed. And she agreed willingly.”

There was no lie in Dedue’s voice. But there was still something uneasy about him. 

A sigh escaped Claude’s lips. “Listen, Dedue, I don’t to hurt you. I have received Dimitri’s message loud and clear-”

“No.” Suddenly, Dedue’s expression darkened. His eyes narrowed, the corners of his lips turned down. His eyebrows furrowed together, and ever so slightly did his fingers curl. “This is not a message from His Majesty.” 

That gave Claude pause. “... What?”

“You guess you really haven’t heard yet. I am... surprised.” Well, he did not look as if he was. “His Majesty is dead.”

The temperature in the room seem to drop instantly at those words. Claude’s mouth felt a little dry. “Dimitri.... what? How is that possible? I have not heard Edelgard’s forces had even broken through the Western front.”

“They haven’t. Not yet.” Now it was Dedue’s turn to move. He slowly stepped to the side, starting to step around the desk as Claude had. 

“Dedue... I am sorry. I mean it. I did not want him dead.”

“I know. I was there when you invaded Fhirdiad.” Step. Step. “I watched you stay your hand against His Majesty.”

Claude began moving again, matching Dedue. 

Step. Step.

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because it was your fault.” 

Claude knew now what expression Dedue had before, the one he could not place. 

Despair. 

Dedue had loved him. 

The man was still talking, “He was blamed. Blamed for the death of Lady Rhea, since he did not fight by her side till the end. There was... a coup.” Dedue’s fingers had fully curled now, and his knuckles were white. “And he... he allowed it. Said it what was owed to him, for what he had done.”

“But that was not his fault! Nor was it mine!”

“You forced him to make a choice.” Dedue’s face was filled with a hatred rarely seen. “And you did not think of the consequences of what that meant for him.”

Claude did not know what to say. His thoughts whirled back to when he had sacrificed Randolph, back to when Judith had died, to their faces as they died due to his decisions. 

“The answer,” Dedue broke through his thoughts, “to your message. There will not be a ceasefire. The people do not desire it. They killed Dimitri for it.”

“And now... you have another decision to make.” It was then Dedue produced a small blade he had concealed.

“Choose.”

-----

Based on the fact that Dedue is a ninja in SS, sneaking into Edelgard’s palace in a full suit of armor. 

#Golden Wildfire #my-writing #but low effort

[hirako5hinji]

[ UNPROMPTED | ALWAYS ACCEPTING ] 

@codename-freya​ asked:

"Taicho?" She asked softly, concern in her eyes as she walked into his office. He'd been quiet lately and she had first thought giving him space would be beneficial. Kaisa wasn't sure what was going on, but the space seemed to become concerning to his Fifth Seat. Instead of coffee, she had brought him some tea. She wouldn't force him to talk, but she would hold space for him if he needed.

"Tell me if you want to be alone, if not you don't need to talk if you aren't up for it. I just wanted to check in on you," she offered up the mug of tea for him and gave a gentle smile.

          It is not surprising in the least that his shift of mood lately has been detected by his men; this is what they are trained to do - to be constantly observant. And his behavior has been considerably out of the norm these days; even the most oblivious member in the division can tell that something is not right. Suddenly, he is working like a demon. He hasn’t left the division in what seems like an entire fortnight. And Hiyori, who used to frequently swing by his office every now and then, has not been seen for a very long time. Combined, all of these irregularities are beginning to paint a worrying picture. 

          Thus, it really is not surprising in the least, that some of his officers are starting to come forth to express their concern for their Captain. It is wearying, having to field the questions repeatedly and assure his subordinates that he has not gone off the deep end...but he gets where they are coming from. He gets it, because after what happened with their previous captain, their nervousness is understandable. He cannot let them down...and he is not at his limit yet, anyway. He is still hanging on. Perhaps not in his best state of being, but he is still functioning. 

               “ ...Thanks. ” He is usually not one for the drink, but the weather is beginning to cool, and the heat emanating from the ceramic cup is comforting. It warms up his cold fingers and he takes a slow sip of the aromatic brew, silently marveling over its soothing properties, reminiscent of this gentle kindness from his Fifth Seat. Shinji’s distracted, distant gaze softens, and he nods at his companion. 

               “ I can’t stop ya if ya wanna stay, but it’s gettin’ late. Yer still healin’ from some injuries, aren’t ya? ” This officer of his is always getting into fights way over her head...but at the same time...he cannot and will not stop her. This is her way of growing. He refuses to get in the way of that...but he is always silently watching over her. “ I ‘preciate yer checkin’ in...and I’m fine. Well, at least ‘fine’ as in you don’t gotta worry ‘bout me. ” 

          He gives her a small smile, raising the mug in a faintly self-deprecating salute, and also an amiable dismissal. His tone, as gentle as her tea. “ Yer captain hears yer concern. Go and rest; I’ll see ya tomorrow. Good night, Kaisa. ”

#codename-freya #||αѕкѕ #[ we love all these platonic love and care for shinji!!!!! ;a; ]

[typeonpaper]

𝐦𝐢𝐦𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭í𝐧𝐞𝐳    ;     ʙᴇᴀᴄʜ ʜᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟꜱ  #3 !

are you happy with how the recoupling went for you? did you get your first choice?

         “ super happy !  i was the first person picked at a recoupling again, which feels amazing, and just totally put my mind at ease about potentially going home. like that tight, anxious feeling in my stomach ?  instantly gone, and for the rest of the recoupling i could just sit back and enjoy the drama... and there was a lot.  i’m really happy luke chose me, because i do genuinely think there could be something there more than just that initial sexual chemistry. he’s so attentive to my needs, and he’s a great spooner... although after finding out spoon sex is his favourite position in that challenge, maybe we need to ease off on that a little... you know what they say — spooning leads to forking. ” 

what was the biggest surprise of the recoupling for you?

        “ layla is a god-damn pot stirrer, and honestly, i’m here for it. i kind of feel sorry for josh and naomi. it’s clear that they like each other, and they’ve already had so much drama  ( oops ! )  but then layla’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. it’s not friend island. girl, you do your thang, step on those toes. i just find it really funny how josh pulled me for a chat and then we had this whole massive argument over the fact that he was gonna pick naomi over me and then he didn’t even get to pick her. karma’s a bitch, i guess. whatever, it’s not that deep. our shit’s in the past, now. move on dot org. ” 

what do you think of the new bombshells, nana and leo? are either of them your type?

       “ nana’s super cool — i already love her vibe — and i’m kinda glad she’s tall because that puts her out of the running for some of the short kings. like, obviously height shouldn’t matter, but some guys find it important that they can pick up the girl they’re with and swing her around, but it’s not just about the dudes. i could see romi or naomi maybe going for nana, y’know.  leo’s a spice. i haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet, but he’s hot, for sure. when he walked in, i don’t think there was a single jaw in the villa that hadn’t dropped.  looks-wise, i’d probably go for leo on the outside, yeah. he seems super smart and i do love guys with ambition, but at the same time, there has to be space in their life for me. whoever i end up with, it’s important to me that they know i’m ambitious, too. i don’t want to get invested in anyone looking for a suzie homemaker stay-at-home trophy-wife type while they’re off running a business. that was the good thing about josh ; he supported that ambitious side in me, and i could tell he’d push me to reach my potential on the outside. ” 

who do you think they’re most likely to go for?

       “ honestly, everyone thinks they’re going to go for each other, and while i could see that working — they absolutely smashed that challenge — i think nana and marcus could be a cute pairing, and i see leo working better with layla or charlotte. maybe enzo needs to step his game up.  if leo was wise, he’d go for andrea. she’s had a tough time in here, and hasn’t really gelled with anyone aside from layla, but honestly, i’m still kinda routing for andrayla. i think they could go all the way. ” 

and, finally, is there anyone in the villa outside of your couple that you’re still trying to get to know?

     “ i’m not writing anyone off. i want to get to know everyone. leo and nana are going to shake things up, and i think it’s the change of pace that the villa needs. there are a few couples who were getting too comfortable before this last recoupling. luke and i are pretty fresh, but i reckon some of the other couples need to be tested. what better way to do that than throwing in two new smokin’ hot bombshells ?  speaking of... naomi, luke, nana and now leo ?  the bombshells this year really are bombshelling, and i don’t think there’s a single one of them who hasn’t caused a stir. ”

#⥂ mimi martínez. ╱ musings. #crackon:prompt

[aajjks]

dhp!jungkook

woah! it’s hot! the beach feels so, so amazing! yn, come on let’s lay right here until eunwoo and his girlfriend get here! i heard they’re running a little late! come on, take your shirt off, let’s get comfortable! oh wow.. yn, you have curves. hm. that’s something i didn’t think kookie liked in girls.. well you look okay. let’s just set down here. oh! kookie, yugyeom! can you guys go get the cooler out of my car? here you go. thank you guys! be careful! it’s heavy and it’s a far walk!we’ll be right here.. look at them, they look like ants done they? kookie and yugyeom, they’re so far.. you know, i’m surprised kookie is dating you. you’re bigger than i thought you were. he loved my body. maybe they why he hasn’t fucked you yet. it took him not even a month before he jumped my bones but y’all have been together how long? four months? haha ah, i see. he’s trying to warm up to fucking you! anyways, let’s get in the water! come on, we won’t go to deep in..

*sarang keep tugging yn deeper and deeper into the water until they’re right at the deep end where yns feet no longer touch the bottom. when a big, big wave comes in. and that’s when sarang shoves her off cliff and lets the wave overtake yn. minutes sarang is back up on shore screaming for jungkook who is walking back with the cooler and yunyeom.*

kookie! kookie! help! you need to help yn! we were walking and-and a huge wave came in and separated us! we weren’t even that far out but yns gone! she’s gone kookie! i can’t find her anywhere in the water! we need to find her!

“WHAT?! YN CAN DROWN?!! I have to go- YOU ARE FUCKIN USELESS SARANG! BABY- yn!!? YN IM COMING. OH IM NEVER LEAVING HER WITH YOU EVER AGAIN- w-what if she can’t breathe?!! SHE IS ALONE- FUCK OFF SARA I WILL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!”

#ask: dh: prisioner!jungkook #this bitch is so delusional it’s making my brain hurt

[lierenprotectionsquad]

Luka: might just fuck around and develop a healthy coping mechanism, we’ll see

#let’s discuss #no Luka repressing your emotions and never prioritizing your own needs and feeling is not healthy #it’s as destructive as pushing people away and getting angry and drunk and high #and accepting your deadbeat father into your life after he consciously abandoned you because he didn’t wanna deal with you is not okay #either #and you deserve to go apeshit on your mother too for denying you your right to know your parentage your entire life #luka couffaine #I’m surprised he hasn’t gone off the deep end yet #shut up sparky

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

#obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #shall we date? obey me! #shall we date obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me writing #obey me asks #obey me ask blog #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

[jungkxook]

—pour up. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut  

⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook​ for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings​ miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛

also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!

There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.

Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.

You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.

Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.

Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.

That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.

“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.

His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.

Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.

“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”

“Much.”

You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).

“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.

“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.

You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”

“Amaze you?”

“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.

“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”

“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.

As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”

You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”

“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.

“As if.”

“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”

You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”

“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”

“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”

Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.

The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.

“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”

You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”

“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”

At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”

The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.

“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”

“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”

“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.

“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”

“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”

“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.

“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”

Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.

“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”

He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”

He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.

That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.

So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.

Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).

You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.

Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.

You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.

“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”

“Looking for someone?”

The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.

“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”

You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”

Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”

There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.

“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.

Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.

Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”

The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.

“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”

You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.

“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”

Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”

The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.

By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.

Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.

Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.

Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”

You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.

“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”

The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”

You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”

There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“Come here and kiss me.”

Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.

A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.

You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”

He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).

The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).

“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.

“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”

Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”

“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”

You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”

Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.

“Noticing what?”

“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.

Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”

“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”

Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.

“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”

“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”

“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”

At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”

“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.

The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.

As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.

“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”

“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”

His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.

“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.

You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.

“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”

“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.

Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.

“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.

Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.

“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.

You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.

“Time’s up,” he says.

Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.

“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”

“Help? How?” You question.

“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.

Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.

“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.

Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.

“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”

You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?

Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.

“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”

You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.

“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”

It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.

“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”

Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.

“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“So badly,” You whimper.

This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.

“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”

You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.

You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”

“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”

Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”

Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.

Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”

When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”

At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.

“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”

“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.

“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”

God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.

“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”

Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.

“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”

Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.

“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.

“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”

You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”

Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”

“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.

“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.

“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”

Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.

“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”

He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”

Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.

“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”

“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”

He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.

In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.

“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.

“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.

“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”

Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.

You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.

“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.

“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.

The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.

“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”

“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”

You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.

“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”

“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.

Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”

The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.

“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”

“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”

“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”

You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.

“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.

Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”

You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.

“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”

You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”

The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”

You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.

“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”

“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”

“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?

“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”

His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.

“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”

You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.

“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”

His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.

“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”

You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.

“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”

You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.

“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”

You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”

His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.

“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”

With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.

“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”

You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.

“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.

You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”

Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.

“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.

You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”

You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.

“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.

“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”

He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.

“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.

You nod hurriedly, humming in response.

“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”

You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.

“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”

His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.

“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.

You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.

“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”

You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.

“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.

“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”

His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.

With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.

“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.

You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.

“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he quips.

“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.

“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.

“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”

“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”

“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.

“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”

You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.

“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”

Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”

You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.

“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”

Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.

“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”

Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”

You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.

“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”

He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”

The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.

“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”

“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.

He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.

“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.

Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.

“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”

It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”

He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”

You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.

“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”

He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.

“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”

Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.

“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”

You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”

Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.

You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”

“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.

He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.

The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.

But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.

“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”

The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”

When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. ��If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”

“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”

You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”

“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”

Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep. 

Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.

You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.

It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.

“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.

Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.

The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”

You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.

“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.

“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”

Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.  

“I━ I━” You stammer.

“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”

Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…

“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”

“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.

“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”

“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”

The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

#btsbookclub #bangtanhq #btsguild #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jungkook #taehyung #bts smut #btscreatorscorner #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x you #taehyung x you #jungkook x y/n #taehyung x y/n #bts #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #taehyung scenarios #jungkook imagine #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk smut #kim taehyung smut #jeon jungkook smut #bangtan smut #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts oneshots

[squeamishdionysus]

Cuddles

pairing: Five x Reader

TW: none to note

summary: you go above and beyond trying to help Five get some sleep.

Notes: this is actually a one shot from my old Tumblr that i remastered after finding it deep, deep in my docs. I'd try to write new things for ATLA and TUA, but the problem is my Netflix got stolen and that's mainly how i get my inspo so i genuinely have no idea when I'll be able to post again lol.

Masterlist

Five had issues with sleeping: major issues with sleeping. He thought that at least some of them would clear up after the apocalypse was prevented, but that didn't seem to be the case.

His caffeine addiction certainly didn't help either.

Even though he very clearly aware of his problem, his siblings still made it their business to go out of their way to pester him about it every day.

Allison and Vanya tried to enforce strict dietary restraints on him to make sure he'd avoid anything that'd keep him up, but it never took Five very long to find loopholes in them.

Luther would ask him about his sleep schedule constantly and offered to take him to a mattress store to pick out a new bed every morning.

Diego made it his business to simply tease Five about it any chance he could, though it usually never went anywhere because Five would retort with an insult twice as efficient.

And then there was Klaus.

"You know, I know a dealer that specializes in selling sleep meds! I could hook you up in exchange for, like, twenty bucks."

None of them actually did something useful for him in his opinion, and he didn't think they ever would.

The only saving grace he had was you. You, despite being his partner, would never bring it up to him unless he did, and for that he was eternally grateful. It was nice that at least one person in his life wasn't constantly trying to be obnoxious.

Right now, you were in your room with Five, preparing everything for your first sleepover together. Five thought you guys were just going to watch movies and eat junk food. He couldn't have been more long.

You had blankets and pillows and all kinds of stuffed animals along with a body of what Five could only assume was some kind of sleeping remedy. You had also picked some crime documentaries to watch together, since those always seemed to put you both asleep whenever you'd watch them.

"honey, I love you, but I don't appreciate the babying," he commented with a sigh, sitting on the bed.

You chuckled, patting his head playfully.

"You've barely gotten any sleep in the past 6 months," you scolded. "Babying has unfortunately become a necessity."

You plopped down beside him and smiled. "Besides, I've already gone through a lot of trouble to make everything perfect for sleeping, so I don't want to hear any complaints about it!"

Five shook his head, smirking. "you know you don't have to do that."

"Actually, I do."

Five blinked and stared at you for a good moment. After about a minute, you waved a hand in front of his face.

"Falling asleep already?"

He shook his head and just smiled, letting out an intimate whisper.

"I love you, you know that right?"

Now it was your turn to stare, locking your eyes with him. A tense silence stretched on. Five was about to speak again when you silenced him with a quick peck to the lips.

"And I love you too."

"I know that."

"Do you now?"

~~~

That night, you found yourself with Five sitting in front of the TV in your room, watching one of the numerous true crime documentaries you had selected.

"the wife did it," Five said.

"How do you know?" you said smugly, looking up at him in disbelief.

"Well, not only is she the only one who hasn't had an interview, but the majority of murders on this show end with the spouse doing it. Actually, annually, about 700 marriages end in murder, so it's really no surprise."

"if we got married," you asked, turning to him and looking over at him with big, baby doll eyes. "-you wouldn't murder me, would you Five?"

"Statistically, 55% of spousal murders are committed by the wife, so really," he gave you a sly smile, "I'm the one who should be worried."

"If you keep up with the snarky remarks, you just may have to worry." You giggled, leaning on his shoulder. "Just answer the question!"

He rolled his playfully, sighing with fake exasperation.

"No, I would not murder you."

"I wouldn't murder you either."

Soon, the clock struck ten o'clock and you perked up.

"Alright, bed time. No more crime documentaries for us.

Five snapped from his sleepy daze staring at the television and looked over at you, confused.

"what?"

You grin, kissing his cheek.

"Time to go to bed, Five."

"I am 58 years old. I don't need a curfew."

"Your consciousness may be 58, but your body is still a teenager." You stood up. "You of all people should know that, since you monologue about it any chance you get."

He sent you a playful glare, rolling his eyes.

"Point is, you need to sleep, and this is one of the best ways to do it."

Five sighed, but crawled into bed with you following right behind him, no complaints leaving his lips. You leaned over the side of the bed and shut off the lights, snuggling up to your pillow and closing your eyes. Five tried to entertain the idea of going to sleep, closing his eyes a few times until it finally sunk into him that sleep was not going to be possible. And so, he just stared at the ceiling, waiting for you to fall asleep so he could sneak out and try and find something caffeinated. He could just say he went to sleep, it's not like you'd notice it.

However, the longer the two of you laid there, the less and less Five felt compelled to leave. You had gone out of your way to do this for him, and while his siblings had done many similar things before, going to equal, if not more strenuous lengths, this was different. He didn't just want to blow you off. So for your sake, and your sake alone (Five managed to convince himself), he stayed, trying his best to come close to sleep.

There seemed to be no hope for the idea, though. That was until you rolled over and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Five felt his body stiffen, his mind unsure of what to do. He wasn't exactly used to affectionate contact, yet, despite months of dating you.

Really, he wasn't used to any contact that wasn't violent.

However, he quickly relaxed, finding that he quite enjoyed the affection. You were warm. Like, a comforting warm. And your skin was soft and radiant, attracting his hands like a magnet as he wrapped his arms around you. Holding you resembled that of a nice spot under the sun on a spring day, and Five was loving every bit of it.

Your breathing was slow and gentle, and he could lightly feel your heartbeat against his chest. It was like a lullaby to him, slowly carrying him off to sleep like a mother's gentle song would an infant.

He held you closer, realizing that at this point, he was cuddling you and you were cuddling back. He had always heard how nice things like cuddling were, but had never cuddled anything besides Dolores, who was a bit uncomfortable if we're being honest. He had to say, he quite liked it.

For the first time in a while, Five's eyes got heavy and his body relaxed as he slowly lost himself to sleep.

#five hargreeves #number five #tua x reader #tua #tua fanfic #five x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #luther #five hargreeves imagine #five imagine #five one shot #diego x reader #diego hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #ben hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #grace hargreeves #tua season two #tua season one #hazel and cha cha #the handler

[whirlybirbs]

          (   this chapter’s gif by @august-walker​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  4/?

summary: you formulate a plan, meet steve rogers, and bucky goes on a date.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.8k, mother of pearl

a/n: this ended up being mostly a filler with a lot of romantic growth - i had to break this chapter up from the unce unce unce clubbing that coming up, so please enjoy! 

  (   PREVIOUSLY   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST  |   NEXT  )

MOSCOW, 1975.

In all the years that James Buchanan Barnes has had a heartbeat, he’d come to know the sounds of grief well.

War taught him a lot of things — that they were all just little boys playing with guns, and that no matter how many times you thought you’d be ready for the vomit-inducing pungency of violence, you never were. In the end, you’d do anything to save yourself; you’d crawl through the thick of death and debris a million times over if only to cling to the shredded tatters of your own humanity.

You would kill someone else’s son for the sake of your own mother.

War was disease that devoured every part of you — it was gunpowder snuff and carved flesh. That sickness — inky and desperate — had sunk deep into this heart during the war, and it crescendoed to the sounds of mothers clutching dead sons. The sounds that followed death were like a hollow opera. Waning and wailing.

In the raucous wake left by warborn grief, Bucky drowned everytime.

To the Winter Soldier, the operatic quality to the sounds of grief were as insignificant as a child’s rhyme.

He did not drown. No, he waded through the waves, comfortable in the cold and unphased by the stinging cut of loss. That was not something he could comprehend. After all, there were orders and there were targets, and everything in between was absolute.

He was the disease that devoured all.

He’s holding a gun to Andrei Kuznetzov’s head in a dining room with ornate trim — with silverware as delicate as scalpels that tinker against fine china. The carpets are red, the curtains are red, there’s blood on the table cloth. The guests continue to eat. Kuznetzov’s wife is screaming, red nails dug so deep into the dining chair’s arms it’s carving out the fabric. War dogs, like him, keep her rooted in her seat, and her tears find polished boots. She’s begging and bartering but the man with Kuznetzov’s life in his hands is not listening. He is eating his veal, bloodied meat dancing between his lips. He takes a sip of wine as his medal emblazoned chest glimmers in the light of crystalline chandaliers.

The spoils of war.

His smile is stained red.

There is no deal to be made.

The Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.

NOW.

His eyes are open.

Panic is the first emotion he feels, and it seizes him up quickly in its grasp. He doesn’t know this view, he doesn’t know where he is, not again, not again, not again —

Then:

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know you snore?”

The relief that the sound of your voice brings is immediate, and just like that he remembers. He’s laying on the bed. You’re sat up across from him at that small desk in the corner. He reaches as he rubs his face to thumb the edge of the pillowcase. He exhales tightly.

He’s fine. His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He is not longer the Winter Soldier. He’s in his Brooklyn apartment. He is fine.

When’s the last fucking time he’s slept in a bed?

He sits up, scratching his neck as he does. You lean back, half rotated in the desk. Before you is a mess of papers and his laptop — and on top of the keyboard sits his notebook. It’s open to the page where all he’d been able to figure out about Innessa was scrawled in his chicken scratch.

Bucky swings his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately his back complains.

“How long was I out?” he asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He moves to part the curtains. The room blooms with warm morning light.

You offer an apologetic smile into the vanilla sunshine. “Three hours. I wanted you to get some shut eye. You were starting to look a little overwhelmed last night—”

“You click too fast,” he waves, standing and immediately rolling his neck to the side. You watch as the man, before as peaceful as a sleeping pup, now regains his usual thinning veiled level of threat. Bucky is dangerous — it shows in the way he holds himself. He cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and groans. He exhales again, posture sagging a bit, “I couldn’t keep up.”

You’re standing now, socks padding against the hardwood as you eye his cowlick with a budding bloom of affection. With his notebook between your index and middle finger, you offer it out. You cling to your empty coffee cup in the other.

“I didn’t peek,” you say warmly, “Pinky promise.”

His laugh is more like a hot puff of air. Bucky manages a look that feels like an emotional dethaw.

“Thank you.”

You lead the way to the kitchen, stretching your own back as you go. You’d been up all night — this is your third trip out here for yet another cup of coffee. The pot has been on for too long, though, and you know the coffee sitting there is beyond bitter. You’re moving to dump it down the sink when Bucky grumbles.

“Don’t.”

“You want it?”

“No,” he mutters, reaching for a mug, “But I don’t want to waste it.”

“Wow,” you chirp, “The Great Depression just jumped out.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, yanking open the fridge to search for something to eat, “It does that.”

“Well, grandpa,” you hand him the steaming cup and set out to make another pot, “You’re also living on Depression Era rations — might I suggest some Dolly’s? Because I’m starving and I’ve been up all night and I think that means I get to decide where we get breakfast.”

Bucky’s look is soft — but you don’t see it. You’re too busy scooping sugar into your cup, too busy nudging him aside to grab the milk. He’s rooted there in the kitchen, watching you move about. You’re comfortable. There isn’t a trace of anxiousness in you, not in this moment, and he tries to remember what it looks like.

Your eyes find his and he clears his throat.

“Earth to Sergeant Barnes?”

“Don’t start,” he groans, albeit playfully, “It’s too early.”

“Oh, what? Too early for me to grill you on why you didn’t tell me that little laptop in there was on loan from the FBI? To one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th?”

His face falls.

“Don’t worry,” you raise a hand quickly, leaning against the counter as you sip your coffee, “I figured that out before I did anything massively illegal.”

Bucky rubs his face as he takes a sip of his coffee — the bitterness is enough to slap him awake. He winces, swallows it back, and remembers the taste of instant coffee made in helmets on the line in Bastogne. He can smell snow, and the acrid sting of mortar smoke. Suddenly, he’s craving a cigarette.

That hasn’t happened in a while.

Bucky clears his throat. “Did you find anything?”

You frown slightly, lips pulled as you hide your inward disappointment — you push off from the counter and shake your head as you brush past him. Like a loyal dog, Bucky follows. Into the bedroom you go, and Bucky’s again surprised he managed to get any sleep at all in that bed. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone else there, or the genuine exhaustion that had finally choked him out after hours of trying to understand what the hell you were even doing on there.

You plop into the desk chair and snatch up a piece of paper littered with notes.

“I couldn’t do much of my usual snooping,” you explain gently as you gesture to the chromebook, “This thing might have been given to you in good faith, but they’re watching you pretty closely. So, I worked a little magic and ended up running a virtual machine. Gave me enough wiggle room to avoid the malware and keystroke trackers. Even still, I wanted to be careful, so I just did a little looking.”

“Looking?”

“I can’t dig deeper on Innessa, I know where to dig, but I can’t,” you frown, “Not on this laptop, and definitely not on my personal machines. I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and the files I need to poke are very much off-limits.”

“So, what? We’re shit out of luck?”

“No, not entirely,” you stand up and motion to the paper in your hands; your tone is tight, “I know a few people who can help, but getting to them is going to be the hardest part.”

Bucky takes the paper, squinting at the writing as you settle on the edge of the bed next to him. You take a sip of your coffee and watch as his blue eyes dart across the notes; you point to the name scrawled across the top.

“There’s a club in lower Manhattan, but you’ve gotta know the right people to get in,” you mumble, scratching your cheek as a creeping sense of embarrassment bubbles up behind your words, “It’s in the basement of an old computer repair shop. It’s like a blackhat networking event, but with strippers.”

Bucky squints at the paper and reads the name. “The Glass Cannon?”

“Yeah,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly as you stand, “That’s the one.”

Bucky looks up from the paper, attention now rooted on the pacing you’ve begun to do across the room. Back and forth. You’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, gaze far away. That anxiousless way you’d been holding yourself before is gone. Now, he can see the tensing in your shoulders, in your fingers. You’re suddenly nervous.

Bucky stands. His voice is gentle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you snap almost immediately, “Just, y’know. Worried. I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Did stupid shit. And now I’m about to waltz in after six years like I haven’t put that part of my life behind me.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he says immediately, moving to stand closer and halt your pacing. The invasion of your space forces you to look at him. His fingers glimmering in the morning light. You follow the line of his figure up to his eyes. The emotion there makes your heart clench. You can’t pin it down, and it’s gone in an instant.

“It’s the only way we’re going to find Innessa.”

“You don’t need to put yourself in situations like this for me,” he says, stressing the for me part in both expression and tone. The depreciation makes you wince and you’re fast to shake your head.

“That’s what friends do, Bucky,” you stand your ground, but you know there’s more to your reasoning than that, “Plus, she’s a bad guy. And I know you said I technically wasn’t the sidekick, but—”

“You’re not the sidekick—”

“I know,” you huff, nudging him gently with your arm, “But, I wanna help. Do some good.”

“You do enough good,” he mutters, “You’re a good person.”

Your words fail you at that — and your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Bucky watches with an expression as solid as rock as you blink and look away. His hand, the one of flesh and bone, finds your wrist as you tighten your grip on your mug.

The touch, though far too tender for you to handle, feels like fire.

Like a slap in the face, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky is.

You slap that thought back, trading volleys, and remain quiet.

His tone is stern. “I mean it.”

“Well,” you finally muster, tone dipping sardonically into a cruel peel of humor, “Just wait until you see me in my natural habitat. Maybe the tequila shots will make you second guess that.”

“I didn’t know we were going out drinking,” he chirps as he raises an eyebrow, “Am I going to need to get you a leash?”

“We’re gonna have to try and blend in as best we can. People are going to know me — if they try to pin me with the GRC or the feds, we aren’t going to get anything on Innessa. They probably won’t even let me in the building if they suspect something’s up, after all not everything that goes down in Glass Cannon is kosher.”

“This is already sounding like a bad idea,” Bucky mumbles as he crosses his arms, “I’m stating that for the record, by the way.”

“Well, I think standing around and working ourselves up about this is even worse of an idea,” you chirp back, moving towards the door to muscle on your shoes, “So I say we feed ourselves and don’t worry about this until Thursday night.”

“Thursday.”

You nod.

All of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Today is Sunday.”

You freeze, hand on the doorframe. You shoot him a wide-eyed look at the sudden flare of panic that’s shot up through him. “Yea, Bucky, today is Sunday.”

“Shit.”

“What?” you nearly cry as he disappears into the bedroom once more. You hear his closet open, then a clatter as he grabs something like keys — you nearly run directly into his chest when he strides back into the kitchen. He’s shouldered on his usual leather jacket, and in his hands is another.

He’s got keys in his hand.

“C’mon.”

He shoves the jacket into your arms and you frown.

“What the hell?” you cry, doubling back to snag your phone and bag as Bucky moves to the door, “What is this?”

“Put it on,” he says, holding open the door for you as you follow him into the apartment hallway.

You raise a brow and stand there as he locks the door.

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face as he widens his strides to the stairwell across the hall; before you know it, you’re desperately trying to keep up as he bounces down the steps — light on his feet like the boxer he is — towards the lower level of the apartment complex, “We’re late.”

You groan, trying to shrug on the jacket that smells like Bucky as you follow — a smell you’d come to know as clean laundry and sandalwood. Must be something for his hair. He never wore cologne, that much was apparent. The jacket is big on you, especially on the shoulders. You were swimming in it, trying not to trip as he held the door open to the garage.

Suddenly, the air is cooler. Immediately you wonder how much his rent is if he had access to a ground level garage. Call it NYC instinct.

“Bucky,” you nearly whine, throwing your head back, “Where are we going?”

Before you get a reply, you run straight into his back. Bucky grunts, moving to grab both of your hands and push you to the front of him.

Sitting in the spot is a motorcycle.

It’s a jet black Harley.

Bucky is handing you the helmet on the back seat as your mouth moves in disbelief. “No way— no, I’m not getting on that thing. I’d rather sell my kidneys. Stop, stop — ow, Bucky — you haven’t even said where we’re going!”

He’s muscling the helmet onto your head and through the flash of the visor you can see a real smile, the sort born out of his never-ending amusement towards your fickle sense of humor. His fingers are nimble against your chin. He takes the time to strap it on, adjust it, and give it a gentle tug. Bucky taps the matte black helmet twice, then flicks the visor down.

“We’re going upstate.”

                                        ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

It takes two hours to get to Elmwood Senior Living.

You spent the first forty-five minutes clinging to Bucky’s waist with your eyes closed — no fault of Bucky’s, really. It was different from riding in a car by miles, and you had your own qualms with driving. You couldn’t be in the passenger’s seat anymore. Not after the accident with Jaimie, when Mom disappeared. Being out of control made you itch; and it’s not until the fifty-minute mark that you ease up on the panic and remember who the man is that’s driving the bike.

You trust Bucky. You trust him with your life.

Once it’s open road, winding up towards the Northern part of the state, it gets easier.

Bucky can feel your grip around his waist loosen just a bit — and it’s enough reassurance that he stops looking back in the mirror every fifteen seconds. It’s enough permission to open up on the throttle, and the bike roars alive. Your immediate reaction is a gobsmacked yelp, the sort that’s pulled from a jolt of shock, but then comes the laugh. 

Bucky’s own quiet chuckle rumbles against your chest. You hold on tighter, but this time with open palms against the thrum of his ribs.

Halfway through the trip, he pulls into a McDonald’s.

You drop your ass onto the parking lot’s curb as he leans against the bike and houses a burger. You laugh, eyeing him candidly as you take a large bite from your own lunch. Bucky is a mess with it — cursing quietly when he ends up getting ketchup on his jacket.

“Shit.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mutter, “Did you even taste that thing?”

“Barely,” he clears his throat and starts picking at his fries, “These things taste different now. First time I ever had McDonald’s was right before bootcamp.”

“How much was it? Five cents?” you snort, leaning back and dropping a fry into your mouth.

Bucky watches with a half-smirk. “Fifteen, but nice try.”

He spends the next five minutes on his hand with a wet nap, trying hard to get the grease out of the delicate plates along his palm. You watch, as you knock back the rest of your soda, as his eyes crinkle tightly in frustration. His mouth is pulled tightly into a fine line. For the second time today, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky Barnes is — and how fucking stubborn he is, too.

“Want help?”

“No,” he mutters, trying to get a spot between his thumb and index finger, “I got it.”

“I have smaller fingers,” you sing-song, gathering up his trash and your trash and crossing the parking lot to the bin; upon returning, you waggle them in his face, “Good for hard to reach places.”

Bucky absolutely hates that can feel his blush hit the tips of his ears at the comment.

He’s glad you’re too preoccupied with his hand to notice. You’re watching, like you always do, with respectful awe. To you, this part of him is a bit like a treasure — you find it beautiful and intriguing and incredible. It’s clear in the way you watch the mechanisms turn and tighten that you aren’t frightened by it.

It unsettles Bucky every time.

Finally, once he’s finished under your watchful eyes, he leans to muscle that helmet back over your head. You groan, squinting tightly.

“C’mon,” he knocks your helmet with his knuckles, “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the ride is wide open space, farm land and mountainous peaks looming far ahead. It’s warm, and the sun is hot on your back. The wind is howling around you and it sends your jacket collar flapping against your neck. Your chin rests neatly on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get a view of the road ahead.

Elmwood Senior Living is tucked into the back of a suburb.

The two of you weave through a neighborhood or two, dancing under the shade of age old maple trees. They cast long, scattered shadows across the pavement as kids play on their lawns. A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Over the hill, church bells ring. Sunday service has ended.

Bucky rolls into the parking lot, past the large sign with swirling lettering. Suddenly, things make more sense. Suddenly, you’re struck with a sinking feeling of grief. Nostalgia. Mourning. But, happiness.

There are folks sitting outside, basking in the sun, tethered to walkers.

Bucky’s wrists crank back weathered knuckles, and slowly the bike rumbles into an open spot. Extending his legs, Bucky balances the bike with ease. You take that as your cue to swing yourself off the back clumsily, hopping a bit. Bucky leans, kicks the stand down, and with significantly more grace than you, swings his leg over.

You’re shrugging his jacket off when he speaks.

“He’s going to be different than how you imagine him.”

You exhale slowly, draping the jacket over the bike’s seat. You peel the helmet off.

“I’ve sort of pieced that together.”

You can see the slight discomfort hanging in his posture. You reach and touch Bucky’s arm.

“Come on,” you nod to the entrance, covered by a shady overhang where someone is helping a family member out of their car, “We don’t wanna be late, huh?”

His eyes soften. Bucky nods.

You walk side-by-side into the lobby of Elmwood Senior Living and it’s like time slows down. It halts in a warm, sunshine colored still — full of chatter, full of humanity, full of wisdom. The room is framed by big windows, by plants, by a man in a U.S. Navy ball cap. He’s stationed by the door, watching the comings and goings. The main desk, where a young woman watches, sits in the corner. You follow Bucky with a content little look. He notices.

He stands a little closer at the main desk. The girl, who looks like she’s incredibly out of place with her blue hair and piercings, is younger than you thought. Highschool, maybe. She offers Bucky an excited smile.

“Took you long enough,” she chirps, moving to sort through a bin to her side with key fobs.

Your brows raise. You spy calculus homework on the desk.

Bucky snorts. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He notices the same problem set you so, and purposely leans over the desk. Suddenly, you’re seeing flashes of a more boyish version of Bucky — one that reminds you of a man with siblings. Bucky taps the paper, jutting a chin to the girl as she tries to swat his attention away.

“How’d you do on that test?”

“I got a 96,” she chirps pridefully, laughing, “Thanks for the help, nerd.”

You’re watching the entire exchange with a smile, backing up a bit to toss a curious glance over your shoulder. There’s a dining room through open doors — and looks like lunch is just wrapping up. Folks are moving around, back to their rooms or upstairs where you can hear the beginnings of a seated aerobics class begin.

Bucky nudges you with his hand.

“Thanks, Sarah,” he says and waves the key she’d handed over.

The girl with the blue hair scoffs. “Say hi to grandpa for me, Bucket.”

You laugh out loud as Bucky quickly flips her off. She’s quick to do the same.

You follow him around the corner, grinning ear to ear. He spares you a sheepish look, then rolls his eyes.

“What was that?”

“She’s a good kid,” he offers, eyeing the key with the grey little fob attached, “Reminds me of my sister.”

Your face softens. “Sister?”

“Her name was Sarah, too,” he says quietly, boots landing softly on the blue carpet. He’s navigating the residential wing like he’s done it a million times. There are rooms with flowers outside, with holiday garb, with little photos and keepsakes. Each room holds a lifetime of personality — the sound of Jeopardy lulls along in the background.

You hum. Bucky sighs.

He meanders down a long hallway where a different door is — this one heavy and locked by the little keypad. Bucky raises the key fob to the device and the door buzzes.

This side of Elmwood is quieter.

Down the hall, Timmy Dorsey and Sinatra play quietly over someone’s record player.

There aren’t as many folks in the hall in this wing, but doors are open and nurses flit about. Around the corner, there’s a loud conversation going on about lunch — and you watch as Bucky weaves towards the nursing station. It’s a room overlooking the common area with windows. Inside are three women.

One of them immediately jumps when she sees Bucky.

“Oh, good! I was meaning to talk to you—”

“Everything alright?”

“About the same,” she breathes as she stands, moving to grab at a Bucky’s arm with a sense of motherliness that makes you smile, “But, meals have been a bit difficult lately.”

“No kidding,” he mutters, rubbing his chin, “He just doesn’t wanna eat?”

“He thinks Peggy is coming home,” the woman whispers with a pained smile as she begins to lead you both down the hall, “He thinks your grandmother made dinner for him.”

“Right,” Bucky nods, “Doesn’t wanna ruin his appetite.”

“Exactly.”

You take note of the conversation, muddling through your own confusion. You’re quiet, though. This isn’t really your conversation to have. Bucky seems to be relaxed more — even humming slightly to a song that plays across the hall from the room the nurse is knocking on.

“Mr. Carter?” she calls gently, “Your grandson is here to see you, and his…”

She looks expectantly at you. You bawk.

“Friend.”

“Right,” she smiles and pushes open the door.

It’s like a little slice of home.

Sofas, chairs, photos on the walls. There’s a record player in the corner, a television, a coffee table stacked with books on the second world war. There’s a dresser covered in baubles and warm light coming in from the window overlooking the street. It reminds you of your grandparents’ sitting room — everything looks so lived in, so comfortable, so alive.

And then, below the light of the window, is a hospital bed.

In it is Steve Rogers.

Not the one you know — no, this one has lived a full life. This Steve Rogers has fallen in love, owned a home, settled down. This Steve Rogers has years of wisdom settled into his face, years of well-fought fights in his joints. His blonde hair has gone shock white, but his smile is all the same.

“Bucky.”

The way Steve says his name is like the man beside you holds the world.

To Bucky, he can hear a new weakness. A new exhaustion.

“Hi, punk.”

The nurse offers a little wave to you as Bucky ventures into the room, stripping his jacket off and moving to scope out the minifridge in the small kitchenette beside the bathroom. She leaves the door open, and you smile to her softly. Bucky rummages, poking his head up.

“You want a drink, Steve?” he asks, tone almost like he’s feeling out the lucidity of the man across the room, “There’s some of that lemonade I brought last week in here.”

“Sounds good,” he says slowly, “Please.”

You feel out of place — not unwelcome, but… it’s clear that Bucky has come and gone from here a thousand times now. He knows to get the glasses out, to get a straw, to turn down the record player on his way over. Doris Day’s voice lowers to a soft croon. You watch with heavy eyes.

“I brought someone, Steve,” Bucky says, “She’s a big fan.”

“Oh?” Steve asks with a slow look to the corner where you’re standing, “That musta broke your heart.”

Bucky snorts as he moves to swing the hospital bed’s tray over Steve’s lap. He places the lemonade down, then the other glass on the nightstand. He’s quick to move the armchair closer to the nightstand, and gestures for you to come over. Bucky’s hands guide you by the shoulders as he plops you into the chair.

“She’s one of the good ones,” Bucky says, “Reminds me of you.”

“No kidding,” Steve says slowly, offering a hand that shakes, “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure.”

You exchange your name with a shy look, shaking that hand with reverence and gentility. “It’s an honor, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please,” he mumbles, moving to slowly take a sip of his lemonade, “Steve is fine.”

Bucky moves to take up a post on the opposite side of Steve, in the sun. “You’re losin’ weight, y’know.”

That earns him a wave of the hand.

Bucky leans back and sips his lemonade. He waggles a finger and you watch the two begin to go back and forth.

“No, no,” he swallows, “No, you don’t get t’ shrug me off—”

“M’fine, Buck,” a sigh, “Really.”

“Mhm,” he narrows his eyes, “You’re startin’ to look like the Steve I knew before the serum.”

You lean back, hiding a quiet smirk behind your hand.

“I was wondering when you were gonna show up an’ pester me,” he says with a tired look, “The only peace I get around here is when Peggy comes home.”

Your eyes jump to Bucky. He’s watching you.

“Peggy?” you ask gently, “Is that your wife?”

A proud smile washes over his face. “Still knocks me for a loop, too.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is gentle, “Peggy won’t be coming around for a while. Remember?”

There’s a look that flashes across Steve’s face, then. A mixture of sadness, of confusion, of panic. It’s clouded with a furrow of his brow, hidden by a tilt of the head. He looks at Bucky, mouth pulled in a fine line.

When he finally speaks, his voice is sad.

“That’s right. I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Bucky taps his head, maintaining an air of nonchalance, “That’s why you got me.”

“And why you’ve got her, no doubt,” he turns to you with a winning smile and offers his hand again, “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, you shake it, and you introduce yourself once more. Your smile is patient and understanding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve smiles, tossing Bucky a look that borders on mischievous.

He sips his lemonade and clears his throat. “How is Sam?”

“You ask every time,” Bucky mutters, “And every time I have the same answer.”

“Sam?” you ask slowly.

“Wilson,” Bucky finishes, “Bird man.”

“You mean Falcon,” you correct, shooting him a stern look, “The Falcon. Are you ghosting The Falcon?”

“I don’t know what that even means, so maybe,” Bucky leans back and crosses his legs, “I’ve been busy.”

You roll your eyes. Steve saw. He smiles.

“I’m gettin’ why he keeps you around.”

Your face is smacked with a look of pure joy.

“C’mon on now,” Bucky cries, nearly indignantly, “No flirting—”

“M’ not flirting—”

“I know that look, Steve—”

Steve is laughing.

Bucky has a stern look in his eye. “You always do this—”

“I’m not doin’ a damn thing—”

“And you better keep it that way, old man,” Bucky shirks, voice splintering into a laugh in a way that you’ve never heard before, “I swear, this is how it always goes.”

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Buck?” you ask gently, leaning your cheek into your hand.

Steve laughs loudly at that.

Bucky spares you a smile — the sort that’s drenched in good humor and sunlight. It makes your lungs flutter, and you ignore the buzz in your fingers at the sight. You hide your laugh into your cup of lemonade, resigning to be a quiet counterpart in the conversation.

The two of them go on to chat about small things, then chat about old things. From the Commandos, to HYDRA, to amends, to therapy, to Peggy, to the itch the starch of their old dress uniforms used to bring. It takes a bit, a few redirections on the way, but it’s clear by the end why Steve Rogers is in Elmwood’s memory unit.

It makes your heart ache.

And if a super soldier is bed-ridden…

The two of you say goodbye around three in the afternoon after Bucky helps Steve shave.

The walk back to the bike is quiet.

Bucky speaks first.

“He’s dying.”

You chew your lip, eyes on the pavement. You match his slow stride, bumping your elbow with his as you walk. It’s still warm, and the clouds hang high in the sky. When you look up, Bucky’s watching you. You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muster, “I am.”

“Don’t be,” he says, grabbing the jacket from the seat and holding it up, “He’s lived a long life.”

You let Bucky hold out the arm for you, and you press your hand through the sleeve. He helps the other side on, and you zip it up to your chin. When you turn around to face him, there are tears in your eyes.

They snuck up on you. You hadn’t realized it until Bucky’s face fell, until the first one fell along the weathered leather of the jacket. You blink, raising your brows as you swipe them away, and offer an apologetic look.

“I’m happy,” you say, “Y’know. He has you. But, he’s a man out of time. Even now. That makes me sad.”

Bucky’s quiet for a while. He’s leaned up against the bike as you turn and watch Elmwood from the back of the parking lot. There’s a big part of you that feels heavy with guilt — and though Steve was in good spirits when you left, you can’t help but ache to provide him with more company. It’s clear that seeing Bucky means a lot to him, and that in turn it means a lot to the man beside you.

“Come on,” Bucky says then, “Let’s go home.”

You nod, let him muscle that helmet onto your head one more time, and hold on a little tighter back to the city.

                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

You don’t see Bucky until Tuesday.

In all honesty, it feels weird to not hear from him for two days. At the very least, you expected some sort of phone call — but you remind yourself that you’ve been okay alone for a long time. There’s no need to throw all your work on being comfortable by yourself out the window for Bucky Barnes.

It’s tempting, though. God, it’s really tempting.

You hate the ache in your chest when you finally see him lumbering towards the cafe counter before your appointments. You hate this new feeling — so you shove it down and ignore the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you your latte.

He is ignoring it, too. He’s been ignoring it.

No use in thinking about it though.

“You got plans later?” you ask him in the elevator after your appointment, tilting your head, “Apparently there’s a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight on FX.”

Bucky stiffens — and immediately he can feel the hot sting of anxious regret flood his cheeks. He clears his throat, tucks his hands in his pockets, and toes the ground. You watch with a confused look. Then he speaks tightly.

“...I’ve got a date.”

You could have caught flies the way your jaw fell open.

“Oh. Oh!”

You blink, readjust your expression, and swallow down a sharp stab of rejection.

Bucky clears his throat. “It’s… I wasn’t going to but, Dr. Raynor—”

“No, no,” you wave your hands and shake your head and try to seem genuine, “No, I’m happy for you. Is this one of those Christian Minglers?”

Bucky groans. “Shut up.”

“Okay,” you say, “Okay! Just, uh, be careful. Y’know? And call if you need anything.”

The elevator doors open, and Bucky walks side by side with you through the well-lit lobby. He holds the door open for you, and you pass through with a pained look at the ground. He lingers, though, rubbing the back of his neck as you wait for him to say what’s on his mind.

“Thursday,” he says, “I’ll stop by.”

“Yea,” you say, waving your hand, “Whenever.”

But, that doesn’t end up happening.

No, Bucky Barnes shows up at your apartment doorstep at 10pm.

He’s clutching takeout and a six pack of beer and wearing a horrified expression that screams of guilt and exhaustion. No, Bucky buzzes the door to your apartment and basically croaks that he’s here — he’s asking if the marathon is still on while you buzz him up.

“Third floor,” you say into the buzzer with a smile, “Come on in, old man.”

When you open the door, you have to laugh — because his hair is a mess and there’s still a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Whereas jealousy threatens to flare, his incredibly regretful expression tamps it down. You cock a hip, eye him up and down, and jut your chin out.

“Get laid?”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he didn’t break something.

He pushes past you, moving to drop the beer on the counter and place the takeout gently down by the basket of fruit.

“I’m here for the cat,” he grumbles, “Not your witty commentary, sweetheart.”

You’re moving quietly to the sink and gathering a paper towel with a smirk as Bucky looks around, admiring the decor and aliveness of your apartment. When you turn around, he’s already pried a beer from the pack and popped the top off with his vibranium palm.

He winces when you reach up to swipe the coral lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

Then Bucky settles, letting you clean off the mess.

“Mhm,” you hum, “Right. Was it at least fun?”

“She had fun,” he mutters into his first sip, “It was a lotta tongue for my first night out in nearly a century, though.”

You wince. He nods with a sardonic smile that tells you everything about how the date went down — and you’re relieved. “So, I take it you're not calling her in the morning?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “Nope. No, and I’ve decided no more dates. That was enough for me.”

You wince and pluck a beer from the pack. Wordlessly, Bucky gestures for you to hand it over. In one smooth motion, he twists the cap off with his hand.

“That bad?” you ask, eyeing him critically.

“I decided halfway through,” he says as he moves to take the takeout from its bag, “I’d rather be watching Lord of the Rings with you.”

That stops you into silence. It’s like someone’s taken your own words and gagged you with them — and you’re left floundering for breath you never even realize you lost. You know he means it. You know it because he won’t look at you, because that sort of confession isn’t easy for people like you two. So you take those words and you glue them in a lonely locket and keep them close to your heart.

Poke’s entrance saves you a mouthful of broken words — he comes in, trots up to Bucky, and hollers.

Bucky laughs.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he mutters, eyeing the cat that’s eagerly rubbing himself along Bucky’s leg.

You wipe your face, sip your beer, and move to the pantry across from the kitchen island. You come back out with a bag of salmon treats — the good ones — and offer Bucky the bag. He takes it, eyes still on the calico, and crinkles it a little.

You lean against the counter and watch Bucky kneel.

“If you keep it up long enough he might even let you hold him.”

He lights up at that.

You laugh.

You move to grab plates and forks and knives and groan when you open up the first box to see Pad Thai — you make a mental note to properly thank Bucky for this. You meager dinner of reheated pasta really hadn’t hit the spot. This will, though. You can tell from the smell alone.

By your knees, Poke chirps.

“He’s cute.”

“I never took you for a cat guy.”

Bucky snorts.

You make a plate and flick his head as you walk by. “You’re missing the start of The Two Towers.”

“I’m going to be confused, aren’t I?” he asks as he stands and begins making himself a plate. He watches as you settle onto the couch and sip your beer, “I was too busy being turned into a cyborg to read the books.”

You laugh out loud. It shocks you.

“Was that a joke? Did Bucky Barnes just make a joke?”

He’s smirking. He rounds the counter with his food and settles next to you. Poke is following him, eager to curl up next to his new friend.

“I can be funny.”

“Funny lookin’.”

He elbows you on purpose. You snort into your beer.

There’s a comfortable moment of quiet between you, and you clear your throat.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “No problem.”

More quiet, and he’s still watching you. Then, he asks what’s been on his mind for the last three days.

“You got a plan for Thursday?”

“I’ve got anxiety, Buck,” you exhale, swigging your beer and turning the television up, “I always have a plan.”

#vacant mirrors #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier imagine #tfatws imagine #marvel imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #bucky/reader

[ddarker-dreams]

Yan Genshin Boys / Darling Attacking Them HCs.

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, yandere themes and mentions of violence (though not terribly explicit).  Note: it’s been a while since i’ve done some good ol’ fashioned headcanons... it’s fun to do them again after taking a break. :’) 

Childe

He has a sixth sense for these types of things. It’s unfair, really, that you were destined to fail from the start. It starts in the little details — he notes how tense you are right away. Childe keeps his playful façade in effect to make you complacent. What that he sees... you keep inching towards a spot in the room, barely suppressing your fear when he himself goes by it. A hidden weapon, perhaps? His guesses are proven accurate when you lunge at him. He focuses on avoiding your attacks rather than disarming you. That look in your eyes makes him shiver, not in surprise, but in deep attraction. He adores this feral, unhinged side that you’re showing just for him. He’s not happy with you, you did just go for his jugular, but damn if he didn’t enjoy the overall experience. 

Diluc

Deep within his soul, he knew that something was off. He told himself that he was imagining it. It’s not like you fidgeting in his presence was anything new. You never appear entirely at ease when he’s around, but that being said, something about this interaction feels wrong. You’re trying oh so hard to come off as nonchalant, even taking him aback by inquiring over his day. Diluc has never heard you speak so much, stumbling over your words, though saying you’re fine when he asks if something is the matter. The glint of steel (a kitchen knife? say goodbye to your eating utensil privileges), has his instincts kicking in immediately. You’re disarmed and left staring into his wide, hurt eyes. He demands that you look at him, not the ground, taking a tone you’ve never heard him use before. His trust issues skyrocket after that and he somehow becomes even more insufferable with his “safety” measures. 

Kaeya

Kaeya plays mind games with you. That’s his entire thing, testing your limits with verbal exchange, seeing just how much pressure you can withstand before breaking entirely. This is no different. You’ve managed to build decent resistance up to this behavior of his, resulting in a battle of wits. Kaeya wants to get you talking. He’s going to make you work for it, the right to attack him, the right to earn your freedom back from the man who took it all for his pleasure. You don’t disappoint. Kaeya is somewhat miffed to see you handling yourself without immediately breaking down in guilt over what you’re planning to do, and steadily ramps up his onslaught. Switches between hot and cold. Asks if you’re feeling alright, wonders if you have something you want to confess to your darling ol’ Kaeya, stuff like that. Getting to the point of lunging at him is almost more difficult than the act itself. He might try to talk you out of it depending on his mood, though if he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he’ll lean back and give you a clear opening. A silent challenge. That if you’re going to do it, you better give it your all, because hell awaits afterward. 

Zhongli

Zhongli gives the whole “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed” vibe from the get-go. He reassures you that you could never anger him, he’s confident in his ability to maintain his composure, waning as it can be at times when you’re being catty. Unlike the others, he finds no pleasure in robbing you from the attempt, and brings it up in a rather casual way. You’ll be sitting at dinner with one another when he slips in the fact he knows what you’re doing. Zhongli takes what he considers to be a reasonable approach, inquiring as to why exactly you found this violent method viable. He’s done so much for you, hasn’t he? He’s gone to lengths that no one else would, and yet here you are, eating at his table, all the while plotting to end his life. He just kind of shakes his head and dismisses the entire ordeal as petty. If you act remorseful, he might let it slide the first time, if you really play up how frazzled you’ve been feeling lately. Otherwise... a punishment might be in order. 

Albedo

He would be giving you the most unimpressed, dead fish-eye stare. You’ll see him scribbling some notes down later with an exasperated sigh. Albedo knew that there were going to be setbacks, as he describes them, a rather dehumanizing approach to what you consider a valid response. He kidnapped you, what else was he expecting? The cognitive dissonance is enough to give you a headache. Albedo gives a clinical recount of where he thinks you’ve been difficult and why it led to this result. If you had been more willing to do as he suggested, then your emotions would be in a better state, and the overall experience would be more pleasant for him and you both. Albedo makes some minor adjustments in your schedule to see if it has any positive effects on your mood. 

Xiao

He’s a lot more upset than he lets on. Xiao will come off as frustrated, sure, yet the negative emotions swirling within his chest go so much deeper than that. This is a betrayal of his trust. It’s not like he trusted you much to begin with, your limited access to the outside world testified to that. What few privileges he allowed will be gone and might never make a return. Xiao’s going to interrogate you, questioning for some hidden motives that aren’t there, anything that could possibly take away from the fact that you tried to maim him. Having something else to blame would put his mind at ease. There isn’t anything to blame other than himself for inciting such hatred from you, so he’s stuck in a miserable mood for weeks. He barely speaks to you but does stare. A lot. You always felt his eyes following you, but now, it feels like he’s upped the ante. 

Scaramouche

Uh... well, for starters, you are a brave soul to have tried it. Scaramouche might have had the slightest pinch of respect if not for the overwhelming odds lined up against you. It doesn’t register in his mind immediately. He was speaking to you about his expectations for the day, dull stuff, really. A visitor that will be showing up later, some of his clothes that need mending once your normal chores are completed. Everything feels like it normally does. You’re nodding along, clearly uninterested but keeping your mouth shut, though he notices you’re shuffling more than you usually do. He points it out, irate. He expects you to fix it like you would any other behavior he considers unsightly. That’s when you attack, and out of pure reflex he dodges in time, leaving you to stumble behind where he once stood. He then just kind of... stares at you? It’s horrifying. There’s a dark, menacing aura that permeates around him like a fog, suffocating the room and leaving you petrified. You know right away that you’re screwed. 

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