#i have caught him smacking that window so many times i keep telling him 'baby boy. sweet little man. that is not how you make friends' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

messers-moony · 3 years

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Runaways | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Twin!Fem!Reader

Summary: Regulus refuses to lose yet another sibling after Sirius leaves.

Being a Hufflepuff Prefect with a mischievous older Gryffindor brother is a lot of work. Sirius is frequently getting into trouble, and Remus is no help. But honestly? Y/n isn’t either. If anything, she laughs at her brother and her friend's antics. Y/n is the only Black family member still in good shape with all her family.

Sirius was overjoyed when Y/n was into Hufflepuff. His little sister following in his footsteps of no longer being a Slytherin. However, Y/n’s twin brother - Regulus - was sorted into Slytherin. She didn’t let that define their relationship. Y/n was close with her twin and the Marauders. Remus often bumped her shoulder in the halls making her smile. The werewolf often had that effect on her. So did James, and so did Peter.

But no one made a giant smile appear on her face than Sirius and Regulus.

“Oi! Little sis!” His voice, it was calm and bright, something she hadn’t heard in a long time.

Y/n turned, “Hey Siri.”

Sirius’ arm went around her shoulders, “How’s your day been?”

“Good, yours?”

“Oh,” Sirius sighed, dreaming, making her chuckle, “It’s been perfect, dear sister.”

“What did you do now?” Y/n fake scolded, “Everything.” Sirius replied.

A familiar raven-haired boy was making their way towards them, hoping and praying that they wouldn’t notice. His green tie and green robes. The prefect badge on the left side of his chest. The wavy black hair and the beautiful grey eyes. The 5’11 Slytherin walking towards his twin sister and older brother. The people he adored the most in the world but barely talked to within the castle walls. His plan ultimately failed.

Regulus turned to walk by his two siblings only for Y/n to wrap an around his shoulder, “Reggie!”

“Y/n, Sirius.” Regulus greeted with the corners of his lips barely turning up, “How’s your day been?” Sirius asked, turning to look at his younger brother.

“Good until two idiots came along.” He joked with a smile adorning his features.

Y/n put her hand on her heart dramatically, “You wound me!”

Both brothers chuckled, and a Professor came to greet them in the middle of the hallway, seeing their beautiful smiling faces, “All three Black’s in one spot. How brilliant!” Slughorn commented as Sirius faked tipping his hat.

The three Black siblings. The Black trio. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin, and one Hufflepuff. Oh, how Walburga adored them despite the way she treated them. It was never in her heart to treat them the way she does. Orion had such a soft spot for his twins. But alas, both parents knew that if they didn’t raise them correctly - or without abuse - they would only get hurt worse. Walburga knew that if she treated them the way she truly wanted to, they’d be split.

But that never compared to the aching in her heart when she had to cast a spell on her children. The kids she was sworn to protect. Walburga never wanted this life, never wanted to marry Orion, hell, she never even wanted kids, but Merlin, her kids were great. Slughorn and McGonagall would send her letters of how wonderfully they’ve been doing in their studies, how Sirius made another cauldron explode, how Regulus caught the snitch and won the Quidditch Cup, how Y/n made prefect and was top of her class.

It was beautiful, and for once, Walburga was happy. She hid all the letters from Orion. If Orion knew he’d made Walburga send a howler, and she didn’t want that. Godric how she hated the awful red colors the howlers came in. The awful shade of brilliant rose. It brought a grimace to her face just thinking about it. But like everything, the truth comes out, and Sirius eventually got a howler.

Sirius let go of Y/n to begin Transfiguration while the two twins made their way to Herbology. Not before Sirius kissing the tops of their heads like he did when they were kids, “I love you guys!”

“Black, get in here!” McGonagall yelled, and both twins laughed, “We love you too!” They replied in unison.

Regulus and Y/n laughed, their arms around each other's shoulders, “I never want him to leave.” Regulus admitted.

“Me either.”

The day was uneventful. More learning, more foolishness, and more laughter. Professor Sprout couldn’t help but smile at the Black twins in her classroom. Regulus was always ice cold when not around his siblings. They made him shine even if he couldn’t find a reason to. It didn’t matter where they were. The Black trio always brought smiles with them. Whether it was Y/n and Sirius, the twins, or all three, their smiles, their laughs, their happiness was so contagious. Three children from an abusive home, coming together to make each other smile. How is it possible?

Y/n would be the answer. The glue to the Black family. The bond to keep her brothers from drifting apart. But that all changed in the summer of 1976.

It was dark and another day of yelling. Sirius couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to leave. He wanted to go. It was bound to happen. He kept telling himself. But did that excuse leaving his siblings behind? Would he risk their safety for his own pleasure? Sirius didn’t have time to think about it. He packed his trunk and opened the window. One leg out and just about to get the other over until his door opened.

His little sister, “Sirius?”

“Hey, sis…” Sirius hated how his voice shook and almost broke.

“What- Where are you going?”

He couldn’t help it; she needed to know the truth, “Away. Far away from here.”

Y/n crossed her arms slowly, “Without saying goodbye?”

“Goodbye?” Sirius replied with a nervous smile.

She shook her head with a smile, walking toward his window. Sirius expected a smack, a lecture. But she didn’t do that. Y/n cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead like he did when she was hurt. Tears filled his grey eyes without permission as he stared at his younger sister's glossed eyes. Gently she ran her hand through his hair, moving it back.

“I suppose you were never good at goodbyes.”

“Not really, no.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/n smiled, “I know you aren’t happy here. You were never happy here.” Sirius interrupted before she could continue, “You could give Remus a run for his money.”

“Listen, Sirius, please.” She pleaded, and Sirius looked at her eyes; he’d miss them, “All I ask, is that you take care of yourself. Regulus and I, we’ll manage. But you should say goodbye to him too….”

“Go get him.”

It took minutes, but Regulus was eventually standing in front of his older brother, one leg out of the window and the other inside his bedroom. Y/n stood behind them, arms crossed with tears streaming down her cheeks silently. Regulus looked like he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. Sirius didn’t care anymore. Silver trails ran down his cheeks, especially when Regulus hugged his older brother with all his strength.

“I'm going to miss you.”

Sirius sniffled, “I’ll miss you a hundred times more.”

“Impossible.” Y/n interjected, smiling.

Regulus and Sirius pulled apart, Regulus now standing beside his twin, “I need you to know,” Sirius began, looking at Regulus, “James isn’t your replacement. He is nothing compared to you. You’re my brother, always.”

“And you,” He turned to Y/n after Regulus nodded, “You’re my baby sister, through and through. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean you can give me detention.”

They chuckled, and possibly for the last time, “Always.”

“Forever.”

“Together.”

Sirius gave a watery smile and finished the jump out his window. Wordlessly Y/n shut it behind him. Regulus stood in front of the glass pane until Sirius was out of sight and gave a heavy sigh. Y/n was standing right beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I knew it was going to happen. I just wish it wasn’t so soon.” Regulus whispered, “I know.” Y/n agreed.

Regulus took her hand, “Forever.”

“Together.” Y/n replied, squeezing his hand.

So many they lost their always, but they still had each other. The next night at dinner was dreadful. Possibly the worst one yet, “Where is he!”

“I- I don’t know.” Y/n answered, cowering away, her hand rubbing her forearm.

Walburga looked at Regulus, and he shook his head, “Where is Sirius?”

“Gone.” Walburga replied to her husband, who gave a mere shrug at the answer, “Our heir is gone, Orion! What are we going to do now.”

“The reasonable thing, Y/n is next in line.”

Walburga scoffed, “Absolutely not.”

Regulus reached for his sister's hand after noticing the tears collecting in her eyes, “She is a disgrace! Just like Sirius!”

Orion put down the daily prophet, looking at his wife across the table, “What would you like me to do about it?”

“Regulus!” The boy stiffened, “You are our next heir.”

“No!” Y/n exclaimed, her rage taking over, “That isn’t how it works! I’m the next in line, disgrace or not. I'm older than Regulus.”

Walburga pulled out her wand, but Y/n didn’t flinch, “With that courage, you should be in Gryffindor.” The older woman seethed.

“You feel no remorse, do you?” Y/n asked, but she did; Godric, Walburga hated herself, “Putting your wand to my neck like I’m some training dummy.”

“How do you think we feel! Our older brother is gone! The one who took care of us because our parents can’t.”

Y/n had tears flowing down her cheeks, “How do you think we feel?”

The girl stood up from the table without being dismissed after letting go of Regulus’ hand, “I saw the tapestry.”

“You burned him from it! What kind of monster are you?! He’s your son regardless of his house. I’ll be your heir, but I will never be your puppet.”

Y/n ran up to her bedroom. Walburga and Orion stared at their son, who sat as stiff as a board. More minutes passed, and Regulus left the table too but not before speaking to his parents, “I’ll- I’ll be your heir. I’ll be your son.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, Regulus.” Walburga smiled.

Regulus lost his brother. He wasn’t losing his sister. But over time, it felt like he was. There was no more laughter in the halls. Only one Black sibling was laughing and smiling - Sirius. There was no more hugging in the halls, no more playing around. Regulus and Y/n were ice. They were cold and in pain. That was the first thing Sirius noticed. His siblings hadn’t stopped by his carriage like usual. It dampened his mood.

“Hey, I’m sure they’re just busy.” James had reassured, but Sirius wasn’t so sure.

It was the first ride to Hogwarts that Sirius was utterly silent. He played with the ribbon in his hand. It was a green ribbon that he carried with him everywhere. The boys never knew what it was or where it came from. They had just discovered that Sirius would fidget with it when he was upset. Remus noticed it first - of course - but James did too, and shortly Peter followed. It was her ribbon, Y/n’s ribbon. A ribbon she wore in her hair when she was seven.

After a bad punishment, Sirius had been given Y/n took care of him. Washed his cuts and plastered them. It was then she learned how much Sirius loved when people did his hair. So she braided it for him and tied it off with her green ribbon. He remembered the way it felt on his fingertips. So perfectly combed and webbed together. It was the reason his hair was long enough to braid. Every Quidditch match, he’d weave it. James asked why once, and Sirius ignored him, but Y/n knew. It was okay to keep secrets sometimes.

Fifth-year for the twins went by smoothly. Sirius’ sixth year was hell. He missed his siblings so much somedays it was hard to get up in the morning. Regardless it was hard to get Sirius out of bed in the morning, but this year was particularly rough. It was like he was in a constant state of Remus after the full moon - tired, fatigued and sad.

He missed Regulus’ smile and Y/n’s laughter. Godric, he missed everything! Sirius cried - sobbed about it at night. His silencing charms weren’t good. It left James and Remus in a tricky spot. It was apparent he didn’t want to talk about it because if he did, he would’ve by now. Remus stopped seeing the twins during prefect rounds and stopped seeing Y/n altogether. It was like she was avoiding them.

The twins did their prefect rounds together, studied together, and only talked to each other. It broke Sirius’ heart. He ruined everything just for his own pleasure. But hadn’t Y/n meant what she said? That she wanted him to be happy? Sirius wasn’t happy. He was far from it.

Regulus had nightmares every night about his parents. About his brother leaving, about everything. So he didn’t sleep most nights, and instead, he threw himself into his studies. Occasionally he’d realized that he had done two essays and then understood that he no longer had to do his brother's homework. Regulus had copies of reports everywhere because it was a habit. A habit he had to lose.

Y/n stopped baking extra cookies. Every Saturday, she’d go to the kitchens to bake a new delicacy the muggle way. Y/n couldn’t help but accidentally bake extra for her Gryffindor brother, only to realize that she wouldn’t give them to him. Instead, she gave them to the house elves to serve after dinner in the Great Hall. They’d appear on the Gryffindor table, and Sirius knew they were a product of her.

During the summer holiday of 1977, Regulus began to notice that Y/n gone often. Walburga would send her away, or Orion would make her run an errand. Regardless Y/n wasn’t around as much. Was she going to run like Sirius? Walburga and Orion sent her to Auror training. Y/n was young, too young for this training. It was Auror training, but they weren’t training her to work for the Ministry. They were preparing for her to become a death eater.

Weeks passed, and Regulus felt saddened by her absence. So one day at dinner, he spoke up, “Why haven’t you been present at home?”

Y/n chuckled, “Are you serious? You haven’t told him?”

“What- What do you mean?” Regulus questions suspiciously.

Walburga coughed, “She’s been put into training.”

“Training?”

“Auror training.”

“But not to be an Auror, to be a death eater.”

Y/n scoffed, “Bullshit, tell him the real reason.”

She looked at both her parents, “They don’t want me anymore. They send me away because it’s easier than disowning me, like Sirius.”

“N- No.” Regulus denied, “Mum, tell me that she’s lying.”

Silence, “Answer me, please.” Regulus pleaded as a water film glossed his grey eyes.

“She’s not lying.” Orion stated, and Regulus let his tears fall down his cheeks, “No! I won’t let you take her from me!”

Regulus stood up, and his chair flipped behind him, “If you disown her, you disown me!”

“Reggie…”

“No! Please no!” Regulus was clawing at his hair, sobbing, “Don’t take her too….” He whimpered.

Y/n began to stand up until Walburga sent a spell her way, throwing her back. It just made Regulus cry more. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were sixteen! This wasn’t fair. So Regulus stood up and held back his tears. Walburga held her wand to his throat, making Y/n nervous. But Regulus was cold, ice cold. Hastily he grabbed his mother's wand and snapped it. Y/n didn’t have time to gape. Regulus ran to her, and they ran.

Through the front door to anywhere else in the dark of the night. Orion was too busy with his wife to realize his children were gone. Y/n was sure they were miles away before they stopped. No magic could be done. They weren’t seventeen yet. They’d have to survive without magic. But then she heard it. A howl. It was a risk, a big one, but they had to take it.

She took her brother's hand and began running towards it, “Y/n, where are we going?”

“To whatever is howling.”

“Are you mental?”

“Maybe.” Y/n shrugged.

Suddenly he saw it. That look Sirius always had. She looked free, happy, and mischievous. Suddenly she wasn’t Y/n Black. She was just Y/n. His twin sister. The girl that would beg her brothers to adventure with her, to trust her blindly. That’s what he was doing now - trusting her blindly. They must’ve been miles away. Regulus didn’t even know how they got that far, but in the forest, the howling got louder.

But at the edge of the forest was a black dog, guarding the entrance to the woods, making sure that no one entered. The stag was taking care of the werewolf. They took turns. One full moon, the dog, was to stand guard, next the stag. Y/n cried upon seeing the animal. She dropped to her knees, and Regulus knelt beside her. The dog looked familiar and gave them both great kisses. They fell asleep together. Y/n, Regulus and the dog.

The following morning, James went back out to the forest after realizing Padfoot was missing. At the entrance of the forest, he saw them. The Black trio. So he left them. Sirius knew the way back; it wasn’t worth ruining their moment. Regulus stirred awake first and woke the dog. The dog left a multitude of kisses on the twins. Y/n woke up shortly after.

Regulus was appalled to see the dog turn into his older brother but happy nonetheless, “Sirius!”

“Reggie.” Sirius replied, holding him close.

They parted, and Sirius kissed his forehead, “How?”

“The howling.”

“How did you leave?”

“I snapped mum’s wand.”

Sirius looked flabbergasted, “Really?”

“She- She was going to separate us. I didn’t- I couldn’t lose another sibling.” Regulus admitted, and Sirius took him into his arms again, “Never again. I promise.”

Y/n chuckled, “Looks like we’re all runaways.”

Sirius grabbed her into the hug, “But we’re doing it together.”

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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LOST IN ITALY.

Where Harry's cute assistant gets lost in city of Italy and the thought of loosing her drives him bullocks.

Flatulent gust of breezy wind kept wiggling through Harry’s coffee lovelocks, sunshine bounces against his soft skin and his pink heart-shaped mouth stays puckered as he takes in the beauty of his surroundings with his cheek smashed over his wrist – which’s resting atop the rooftop of yacht and his head perks up puppy like when tufty giggles maroons in his ears.

He gazes his cute assistant from under his ray bans and skims back a timid smile when her face beams with glee, her cotton puffy sleeved sundress blows away from the breeze giving glimpses of her plump thighs and Harry sucks in a breath snapping his eyes away.

“Harry look s’beautiful!” She squeals taking another picture of landscape with her grandpa's vintage Yoshika camera and Harry just rumbles his lips, shrugs and slumps back, a lazy mumble of “mehhh” elicits past his lips.

She’s just so endearing, and cute and fucking adorable it’s hard for Harry to keep from not babying her.

When he first went to sets of My Policemen he considered her rather unprofessional, as everyone kept on finding her but it seemed like she vanished into thin air, turned out when Harry took a break in his cubby she was lighting up saffron and black scented candles, “Oh! Thought you’d like comin' back to nice smelling room —-- holy fudge .... by the way, me Y/N your new assistant for the meantime.” His all grumpiness defused into bunch of reverence for her.

She'd always beat him to bringing in brekkie and smoothies for him and her fellows, sometimes giving him the velvet muffins before he goes back home --- Harry became such a drooly lovey puppy for her that he decided to keep it stern from then.

He’s trying. He’s prolly gonna fail.

Y/N isn’t very immune to water trips and she was well aware that a sickness is coming – but so soon? She didn’t know that!

So, when she chokes onto nothing and then gags driving Harry into fritz. Harry tries to keep his balls in place and not panic because that’d just spill his secret and expose him.

He quickly facades himself under stoniness, “Christ! Y/N if you die on me —-,” Though, grabs her elbow lightly and walks her to the edge of the deck.

Y/n smacks his hand away. Glares him and grunts pushing her hair away aggressively, “Don’t tell me what to do I’ll die wherever the hell I want!” His pupils resembling to that of clashing waves of sea blows away comically as she huffs and pushes past him.

“Better die and ghost you for life.” She gags into her elbow again and he rushes to grab her hand, when she pulls away with a tut he rolls his eyes brings his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looks at her from under the brown sunnies, “Jeez just holdin' a hand, not gonna slip a ring, ‘s that what yer afraid of.”

“Just admit you’re desperate to hold my hand.” She smirks up at him and he cackles, then dims into nervous chuckles because oh fuck he’s getting caught red handed.

“No.” He mutters.

How much she resists not to pout and turn all fussy over his denial she ends up doing so and it’s his turn to smirk cheekily at her.

“Are you mad? You look mad.” He wiggles his finger at her and she grumbles folding her arms infront of her bosom and cranes her head to side, “I’m not mad.”

“Yer pretty face’s all screwed up, like you’re mad.” He nibbles at her and she glowers him --- sighing at last, the wisp of her hair falling in her eyes, her lips plush and glossy from sick.

“I’m perturbed, not mad.”

Then there’s an overrated pause of silence and heartbeats before Harry pokes her knee.

“You still look mad.” His face splits into a wide cheeky grin – showing his bunny teeth and she stands up hastily wobbling a little.

“’M’not mad! But I’ll be soon Harry Styles!!!!” She goes for smacking him at chest but he jerks back and sneaks his way out squealing annoyingly, “Mommy come save me from this feisty sea-creature.”

“You mean a mermaid?” She giggles.

“No. Frogfish.” He deadpans.

“I’m not talking to you ever again!” She cries out and turns away from him but he barks out a laugh --- riling her up is the most entertaining thing and seeing her make cute fussy faces another.

“’Kay, sorry! Wouldn’t do it again.” He toddles behind her and glides his forearm against her clavicles bringing her to his front, “Says this everytime!” She squirms pushing him away but he’s ten times stronger than her and even if she’s ... she’d want to spend some more time like this.

“Wouldn’t call ye' frogfish —-.. from now on.” She nods. Humming in agreement and he turns her, holding her from shoulders and looks down at her with glinting eyes and wide toothy mouth.

“How ‘bout blobfish? They look more funny.”

“I’m gonna kill you, Harry Styles!”

They were given a loft infront of the shore 10 minutes drive away from the shooting place and after fighting over who'll occupy the bed, bickering and pillow fighting over it and almost making it creaky loose bench Y/N went back to living room telling him that he snores so much, “Sorry but ‘m too sensitive to piggy snorey noises – better sleep outside.” He was fuming and gritty mess, flailing his limbs like a baby because he was “the hair on his directors head” away from sharing the bed with her.

“Whateva! your loss. Don’t come t'me beggin’ to pop your backbones.” He told her in high pitched mimickness and flumped under cool sheets.

His one hour nap turned into two then three. In the meantime, Y/N made a sandwich from the fresh veggies piled in the fridge, sipped onto her matcha drink sitting beside the window and enjoyed he view, even went through her socials.

Realized that she’s missing him around her terribly even if it’s just jokes and giggles and shit, whatever, so she took her camera and went outside to take pictures of shore and the purple sky battling with hue of clouds.

She got so charmed with Italy's beauty that she kept on walking and taking pictures, only to realize when the bustle of crowd dropped into tranquil quietness and she found herself into some unknown street.

She’s fucked.

She’s lost.

She has got nothing,

Not even her phone.

She contemplates to knock on the house doors and ask for locations but she’s petrified of the idea and tries to find some shop, so she could call someone and ask them to pick her up.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumbest decision, she has ever taken in her life.

When she sees no passer by, none tourists no-one in sight and the daylight defusing and darkness laughing and taunting her tears springs in her eyes --- bubbling at the corners and weeping down furiously.

Her heartbeats drops dead when she sees a group of men approaching towards her. She runs away hiding into the dark tunnel and clamps her mouth shut from crying out loud when they walk away -- they weren’t about to do anything to her – it was just her feared instincts.

“Harry ......” She whisper-cries into her wrist, her legs weak and trembly making her tumble down into dusty stoned pavement, her back getting scratched from the bricked wall of tunnel.

Harry woke up to pin-drop silence. Void of the sun that was once glimmering through the window, “Y/N.” He grogs out, knuckling the sleepiness away and trudged out finding the room empty.

It startles him. Waking him up properly now. A sweat flushes down his spine when he couldn’t even find her in the washroom and at the door-steps.

He dials her number and finds it at the coffee table, gruff cruses breathes out from his mouth at that.

FuckFuckFuckFuck.

His heart feels like someone’s squeezing it mercilessly in their grip when he goes outside, but couldn’t spot her and he finds it difficult to breathe, chest heaving as he snaps his head in every direction to look for the face he’s oh so in love with.

Where are you, Y/N?

Maybe, she’s angry with me? Did I hurt her in any way? Oh, fuck. I’m such a bitch.

Now, she’s angry with me and hiding in some corner cursing me out.

I have to bring her back.

So, he calls anyone in connection with Y/N in hopes that she’s with anyone of them and when there were, “no mate --- maybe check in the washroom...” and “last time she texted, said she’s going out to take pictures.”

Harry’s face pales at that. Sick to his stomach. His fists tighten by his sides to keep his calm the world around him spins for a moment and he stables himself with the nearby railing.

Bad thoughts spirals in his mind, how much he avoids them it frightens him like his worst enemy.

What if she’s hurt? It hurts him in heart even to think that.

Got into an accident and they took her?

Fuck.

What if some mafia has kidnapped her.

Obviously, Italy is famous for mafias ..... No!No!No! Harry shut up, shut up, shut uppppp!!

He screams internally to pause everything and think rationally.

He searches for her everywhere. In every street. His feet hurting until now and he chokes onto a sob, not even wanting to think of getting police involved and still not able to have her back.

He shouts for her name. Halting past anyone looking like her, that mini dress she flaunted infront of him with a gorgeous smile –-- asked him how it looked on her and he wasn’t very interested to give a response.

If he could take all of it back and praised her like his life depended on it, only if he’d told her how much he loves her, her making sure he’s comfortable in his cubby, her bringing cold milk drinks for him, dividing her oreos with him.

His hands shakes by his side, his lip twitching constantly and his legs trembles pathetically with each step he takes.

He stops. Narrows his eyes to squint through the darkness and he feels like someone blew oxygen back in his lungs, his knees weakening at the sight of some girl sitting on the bench, her shoulders slump and her head downwards as she clutches the edge of bench, rocking on it with quite sniffles.

He prays that it’s her.

Upon, hearing the footsteps Y/N looks up and those sweet eyes are enough for him to recognize her in between many people.

“Harry?” Her voice feeble and scared.

“Oh baby .....” He mumbles. Rushing towards her, stumbling back a bit when she flies in his arms and latches to him like the missing piece of her body.

His palms curves into her ribs, her face smashed into the crook of her neck – her tears wetting his skin instantly and his cheek squished atop her sweaty hair, he hugs her for dear life making her legs dangle in the air, she sobs nuzzling deeper into his throat and he caresses her shoulders to soothe her cries down. Kisses the side of her temple with tender affection and sighs in relief.

“Shhh. Shh baby, ‘s okay. I’ve found y’now ..... ‘m here sweetheart ‘s alright.” He doesn’t stop splodging soft pecks to her forehead – scared that if he’ll she’ll get lost from his arms again.

Her hiccups painful not letting her take a breather and Harry puts her down on her feet gently, taking her face in his clammy hands and hooks his thumb into her hair gazing into her glassy eyes intensely, “Hey look at me lovie’ just .. focus on me alright?” She nods at his plea grabbing his wrists and follows his breathing pattern.

He glances back at the bench and goes to grab her camera but she cries out fisting the hem of his corduroy shirt in her tiny hands, “No!” could barely choke out from her dry throat and he turns his attention back down onto her, strokes the rosy apple of her cheeks and pets her head.

“Not leavin’ yer side baby .. was bout to get your camera fo’ you. Could come with me if you don’t like stayin' away.” He assures her softly and trots towards the bench with his arms still around her as she keeps on hiding her face into his bicep.

They walk down the street like that, she has calmed down letting a sniffle slip here and there --- this kind of scenario has never happened to her before – she has never been outside of her home city before too.

He feels her tummy screech for food so asks her, chin butted atop her head, “You’re hungry, petal. Let’s get pizza.” She doesn’t feel like eating though. When she shakes her head – squeezing him more. He takes her from shoulders looking down at her with gentleness and brushes a strand of hair behind.

“Just a tad, darlin'. I know a delicious take away round the corner ... could eat it sittin' by shore.” He offers her with a smile and punches the air happily, whistling when she agrees.

When she giggles softly, defrosting back from numbness Harry spins them a little overly gleeful.

“Got me sweet girl back.” He exclaims ducking down to kiss her cheek and now when she’s less wobblish, her lungs fills with bunches of butterflies.

Blush splatters on her features. As Harry aligns his tanned arm with her delicate one and locks their fingers together lulling it backs and forth between them lovingly.

He keeps her tucked under his chin and snuggled in his arms all the time, even while waiting in the line for the take away.

“Ow!” Squeaks, “Ow. Ow.” Jumps on his tippy toes upon balancing the hot pizza on his palm.

Grins like a mad man when succeeds in making her laugh, takes her hand and helps her climb down slippery stones.

Goosebumps arises on her skin from shyness when he coils his strong arm around her to pick her up, with pizza in his other hand and giggles breathily in her ear upon hearing her squeals.

She sits in between his knees. Leans against his chest and inhales his woodsy vanilla scent, nibbles onto the crust while hearing his heartbeat.

“You scared the living hell out of me, lovie’ ... thought —-... thought I’d never be able to have you back again ... proper vanished.” He croaks out. Runs his nose up and down the sweet curve of her neck.

“Made me realise ... that I don’t want to be away from you, ever.” Y/n's breath hitches at that and she turns in his embrace. Looks at him with surprised doe eyes and coos when his eyes gloss over with wetness, that he’s forcing to keep at waterline.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“You do?” She gasps.

He bobs his head giddily, “Can you picture it? You and I together?” He murmurs mellow street light dancing between them.

“’Us'? I like the sound of that....” She smiles searching for his hand and he grasps it eagerly like he was yearning for it.

“Kay then, when could I take you on a date?” He grins. Dimples mauving deep and pretty.

“This isn’t a date?”

“We’re in Italy. The sky's so romantic and I’ve got you, seems like a date to me....” She peppers kisses to each rosy gap of his knuckles and his inside bursts like they never did before.

“Kay then. It’s memorable too, you got lost on our first day –--”

“Harryyyy....” She whines nudging him in belly with her elbow. “’Kay we could change that.” He laughs. Showering her in kisses and her laughs whirls loudly into quite air, trying to squirm away from his tickles.

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hollandsmushroom · 3 years

Text

Yearning

Arvin Russel x Reader

I wrote this in a day, it was just me satisfying my want to soft intense Arvin smut with some slight worshipping vibes, its unedited and thats really all. Um please comment and reblog!

best, Mae xoxo

Summary: Arvin walks in on you when you were too eager to wait for him. Um then Smut ensues with no plot.

Warning: NSFW Content, Neediness, Horniness, Smutty filth, Porn Without A Plot, Face sitting, cum play, cum eating, sex, male penetration, Oral(F receiving) I think that that is all.

You laid on your bed, a spring breeze blowing through your window that you had propped open with a cracked wooden spoon. You held your book above your face, eyes tracing the words that lined the pages as your fingers scratched off the fabric of the hard cover, the embossed lettered creating ridges that you could trace absentmindedly. You were not taking in any of the words in front of you, no matter how many times you reread the same sentence nothing seemed to stick. Eyes continuing to act out what you so desperately wanted to be focused on but you couldn’t, your mind was on the boy that you loved, wishing so much that the lines the pans of your fingers were pressing into were those of the valleys of his toned abdomen. You knew where this was going to lead but you wanted to hold off just a little longer, yearning for it to be his hands and not your own all too familiar one, but you knew he was at working, leaning under the hood of some dirty car, probably with was a cigarette dangling from between his thin lips. These thoughts weren’t helping your current position, it felt like your heart was beating right beneath your skin as it began to flush, heat spreading down to between your legs and you knew that you were only delaying the inevitable at this point. The thoughts of him becoming rapidly more and more filthy, how his lips would suck your clit like they did the filter of a cigarette, kissing his way back up your squirming torso to your lips, the taste of you and nicotine intermingled on his tongue, spreading across your own. You clenched your eyes closed at this point, dropping your book to the side of you, thudding next to your head as you hitched up your skirt, letting the fabric lay just beneath your chest, hands quickly sliding back down to you cunt, slipping into the front of your panties.

Teasing yourself you traced your lips, the touch causing a shiver to run down your spine, the touch was gentle and only made you want more, slipping between your folds and tapping your clit, your body jolting at the much needed friction.

“Couldn’t wait, could ya Doll?” The familiar twang came from your door, your eyes shot open at the noise, immediately retracting your hand from your cunt as you sat upright, looking at Arvin, his jean jacket thrown over one shoulder as he leaned against your door, his white t-shirt tainted with grease.

“A-Arvin, you’re here” you began to shift your skirt down to cover your panties but before you could he shouldered himself off of the door jam, foot connecting with the wooden door causing it to swing closed. His hand caught your fluttering skirt before it could cover your dampened panties.

“What do you think ya doing?”

“Co-covering up” you stuttered, hand grabbing the flesh of your inner thigh, digging his dirty fingernails into the yielding skin as he pulled you to the edge of the bed.

“Who said that is what I wanted” he hummed as his hands began to trace higher on your skin, teasing the sensitive skin like you had been doing moments before. His eyes tore from yours and bore into your covered cover, your soft white cotton panties so soaked with your arousal that they had become transparent, admiring the folds and valleys of your swollen cunt, your bud showing at the top, your lips spread as he pushed your thighs farther apart.

He kneeled between your legs, ducking his face down low as you watched his every movement, how the short hair on the back of his neck standing one end as a shiver ran down him and to his dick as the smell of your sweet cunt reached his nose, mouth watering as he nosed against the clothed bundle of nerves, leaving the freckled tip wet with your slickness.

“Yer already wet, Sweets, tell me what you was thinkin’ bout?” he prompted as his breath ghosted over your flushed skin. Your mind was a jumble, your libido taking over your thoughts as you ran your fingers through Arvin’s hair.

“Lips around my sweet spot and” your sentence was caught off as Arvin gently sank his teeth into your clit through the fabric of your underpants.

“Whose lips, darling? Better have been mind” he practically growled, a possessiveness sneaking into his bloodstream as he tugged you even closer, moving your panties to the side revealing your core in all of its aroused glory, the smell of you took him over, his vision going dark as he dove in, all tongue and passion devouring your pussy. His lips wrapped around your clit and a loud shriek of his name ripped from the back of your throat, both at the surprise and pure pleasure that took over your body at his sudden actions.

He pulled back from you making an involuntary whine escape your lips at the loss of much needed friction. He looked up at you with eyes blown wide with desire, wanting to feel and taste every inch of you.

“Of course they was your lips, they always are” you assured and he groaned, palming the flesh off your ass through your skirt as he returned to his place happily between your thighs, nipping and sucking at the folds.

He pulled away once again, leaving you cold as your damp core was exposed to the air. He moved to lay on the bed, his back flat against the slightly lumpy mattress. Sitting up a little he pulled you towards him, bringing one thigh over his chest as the other stayed where it was.

“Arv, what ya doin’?” you inquired, whimpering as his t-shirt met your core, but you didn't stay there for long, his hands grasping your butt and pulling you up even higher so your core was hovering just above his face.

“Making you feel good” he slurred, before latching his arms around your waist like a seatbelt, pressing his face deep into your cunt as he began to lick stripes through your folds, loving the reaction it spread through your body above him. His tongue pushed through your muscular hole, pushing deep inside your vagina, licking the inside as far as he could go, stretching you very slightly.

His tongue left your insides and returned to your clit, happily sucking on the bundle making you jolt. The feeling was almost too much, your hands gripping into his hair and tugging it from the roots as you felt your orgasm beginning to build through your body.

“Arvin, baby, ‘m close,” he sucked hard at your words, laying a light smack on your ass as you ground down onto his face, urging you to do it more, which you did, bringing you to your orgasm as his tongue slipped through his lips a flicking your clit. Your thighs began to quake as the pleasure took over, your whole body tensing as you threw your head back moans leaving your mouth as he continued to suck to sustain you through your orgasms. He felt his dick twitch at the feeling of your cum dripping down his chin, your aroma taking over the tent that your skirt had made around his head, dizzyingly arousing.

Once you finished he let his arms unwind from around your waist letting you fall next to him on your bend, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your energy had been drained. You felt Arvin moving away from you resulting in your eyelids fluttering open, eyeing his movements as he reached behind his back he tugged on the collar of his shirt. The stained white cotton disappearing his face for a moment as it exposed his toned chest, even though your orgasm wracked your mind you knew what you wanted, to touch him. Raising your slightly tired body you managed to sit up, reaching over and tracing your fingers along his abs that you had imagined doing earlier. He tensed under your touch as it grew closer and closer to the waistband of his loose boxers that his dick was straining against. He let you pull his underpants off, his dick springing free and slapping up against his abs, cum precum leaking from the tip and leaving a mark on his bare abs.

He put one knee on the bed, between your spread legs, pushing you back onto the bed and lifting up your shirt, your nipples hardened as your breast became fully exposed to the air, the summer breeze cascading over your chest, fluttering the curtains and shadowing Arvin’s features. His eyes locked with yours as you began to shimmy off your skirt but his hands wrapping around yours halted your movements.

“Keep it on” he ordered as he began to hike it back up, your slick thighs chilling as they spread apart, no longer together to keep your cum from going cold. A cringe spread across your features at the feeling. “What’s the matter, Doll?” his features taking on a look of concern.

“S’cold, Arv” you whined pitifully, his eyes crinkled as a grin spread across his cheeks, leaning in and pressing his forehead to yours.

“Let’s warm you up, shall we?” he cheekily suggested as his tip teased through your folds, precum spreading across your clit as he rubbed his dick against it before slipping into you, filling you to the hilt. He stilled once he was fully inside of you, letting you adjust to being full of him, brushing a stray hair that had fallen on your forehead.

“Move, Arvin” you begged, and he rapidly began, pulling out and thrusting back in, but slower than you expected, his foreskin dragging against your walls as you could feel him twitch, his veins twitching against your tight core. Your legs wrapped around Arvin’s waist, digging your heels into the small of his back, pressing with him as he continued to push in and out of you. It was clear what he wanted, he wanted you to fall apart around him, to know that your fingers will never feel as good as his cock, how you will always need him, and maybe it was also to remind himself of that as well, that you need him.

“I need you, Arvin” you moaned, arching your back up and pressing your breasts to his chest, nipples getting the friction that they need from rubbing against his bare skin. Sweat and passion coated you both, the throws of ecstasy enthralling you both, the world seemed to melt away, the clock on the wall became obsolete as time seemed to stop, it was just to two of you, tongues entangled as they fought for dominance, each others touch branding small littered bruises across skin. The feeling so intense you felt like you were losing your mind.

“Arvin,” you screamed, your vision fuzzing like iron shavings at the edges as your body felt like a bonfire. “I-I’m close” you could barely speak, losing control of your body.

“Let’s get there together farling” he groaned in your ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts bringing you across the brink of pleasure and into something ethereal, bodies entirely as one, wherever one began and the other ended was not of consequence as you fell apart in each others arms, his cum shooting out and painting your walls.

When you had both finally rode out your highs, he collapsed onto your chest, your sweat intermingling on skin, lips lazily working against each other, catching your breath as he softened inside of you. He finally pulled out of you, cum beginning to leak down and out of you but he caught it with his fingers, bringing them up to your lips and without any words you opened them, encasing his slender his fingers in your soft mouth, licking at them to make sure you got all the cum off of them before letting them go with a pop, a contented grin taking over your lips as you eyed the loving boy above you.

“I love ya, Sweets” Arvin smiled, collapsing back onto your chest, nuzzling his face between your tits.

“I love you too, Arv” you chuckled, fiddling with the hair that had begun to curl on his forehead.

“Ya so needy sometimes” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as the exertion of the day began to catch up with him.

“Oh, ‘m sorry” you whispered, embarrassment taking over your form as you felt ashamed of your neediness.

“No, none of that sweets” he pushed himself up, looking at your face as you avoided his gaze, his hand grasped your chin, turning your head to make you meet his gaze. “Like it when ya need me” a smile taking over your features at his softness “Just next time, wait for me, don’t need my baby being too tired to take my dick”

“Arvin!” you cried, smacking his chest as you fell into a fit of giggles.

Taglist:

@thehumanistsdiary

#arvin russel x reader #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell #arvin russel fic #arvin russel angst #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel smut #tom holland #tomholland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x plus size reader #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #smut

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 years

Text

punch me - jungkook

back again with another self indulgent fic! enjoy

summary: daycare worker jungkook invites you, his favorite coworker, to the lake with his friends. why the lake? he wants you to see his new sleeve and whipping his shirt off in the classroom isn’t quite acceptable. plus he just wants to spend more time with you. there’s no harm in that.

warnings: none i think!

word count: 3.5k

you work at a daycare, which isn’t a bad thing. it’s pretty chill, you like the kids and you can take off work pretty easy because there’s tons of subs. but also, not many people are bringing their kids in lately. so that means you and the other staff have been digging into the snack closet so “they won’t go to waste.”

jungkook was the one who suggested it. well, maybe suggest is the wrong word? he got caught up to his elbows in the bin of sweets, so when he turned to face your boss he immediately went into charming mode so he wouldn’t get in trouble. and once jungkook said it, everyone else thought it was a good idea too. hell, you’ve stopped buying snacks for yourself because you just sneak them from work now. wait. don’t tell anyone that.

anyway, it was a great idea, but that was two weeks ago. now the snack closet is empty and you have a room full of toddlers on the verge of anarchy because of it. because of jungkook.

you just watched him pass by your room, arms laden with cheez-its and rice krispie treats, and you know for a fact he doesn’t have a class today. he’s only here to touch up the mural he’s been asked to paint near the front desk, so all of those snacks must be for him.

you get the teacher from next door to keep an eye on your kiddos so you can sneak to the front and steal a couple bags of cheez-its (the kids don’t need their own bag, they’ll never know). but you get there and find yourself distracted from completing your mission.

jungkook is wearing old sweats, spattered with paint here and there, and he’s stooped over a bucket of water with a paintbrush between his teeth. it’s cute.

“jungkook,” you semi-shout to get his attention. you get a sort of “hmgpfh?” in response, and that’s enough for you. “do you seriously need this many snacks? just for yourself?”

“i’m a growing boy, y/n,” he replies, taking the paintbrush out of his mouth so he can dip it into a paper plate covered in red shades. “you can have one.”

“i need three, actually,” you reply, picking them up as you speak.

“are you a growing boy too?”

“no, i have six little kids with bad attitudes waiting for me in my room so i’ll be taking these off your hands,” you explain, finally turning to look at the work jungkook has put on the wall. “wow.”

“you like it?” jungkook asks, turning to look at you with a smile and a dancing light in his eyes. “is the tree too much?”

“no, oh my god, this is really good, jungkook,” you assure him, tracing your eyes over the wall full of characters and scenery from various children’s books.

“thank you,” he replies. “it’s better than wiping asses all day.”

“watch your mouth.”

“why don’t you watch it for me?” he quips back, peeking up at you with a smirk.

“what does that even mean, jungkook.”

“just thought i’d try to make you blush,” he says with a shrug. “didn’t work this time.”

“i don’t think it works anytime, actually,” you mumble, but he ignores it.

“hey, are you busy this weekend?” he questions, inspecting a bottle of green before squirting some directly on the wall.

“are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you ask with a laugh. you watch him frantically spread the paint around to resemble a bush.

“shut up. are you busy this weekend?” he asks again.

“i don’t think so, why?”

“come to the lake with me,” he says as he stands up to meet your eyes. “one of my friends convinced his uncle to let us borrow his boat. it’ll be fun.”

“do any of you know how to drive a boat?” you ask. “the safety of all this is what would keep me away.”

“i’m sure yoongi hyung will be able to do it,” jungkook says halfheartedly. “but still, the boat could just stay docked. it would be fun either way.”

“when are you going?”

“saturday, so i could come by yours and get you on my way?” he asks with a lot of hope in his voice. you shrug before responding.

“why not? sure.”

so, jungkook texts you late friday that he’ll pick you up at 7am saturday. what the fuck. you wouldn’t have said yes if you knew you had to leave that early, but jungkook explained that he’s the only one the uncle trusts to have the keys, so he has to get there before the world wakes up. but also, has this man met jungkook? jungkook, being trustworthy with small, easy to lose items? please.

nevertheless, you’re up bright and early on saturday with a very large thermos of coffee. jungkook texts you right at 7 that he’s outside, and when you walk out you see him at the back of his car trying to force something into the trunk.

“whatcha doin?” you ask as you approach, noticing his strong legs in his (surprisingly) short swim trunks. you’re now realizing you’ve never seen him in anything other than baggy pants, so his legs are a little...distracting.

“trying to keep the beer bottles from rattling,” he says through clenched teeth.

“and you’re trying to fuse them together with sheer force?”

“no, i’m stuffing a towel in between them in the box but it’s really tight.”

“if hoseok were here he’d make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke,” you jest.

“i thought about it,” jungkook replies. “so i guess that counts?”

as he talks, he rearranges the other things in the trunk so it can close easy, and as he lowers the door he turns to you.

“you look nice,” he says, eyes drifting over you quickly. he notices the coffee cup in your hand and smiles. “any chance that has the sickly sweet creamer in it that i like?”

“how would i know what coffee creamer you like?” you ask, slightly annoyed that he just assumes you pay that much attention to him but also annoyed that you got caught.

“because you like me,” he replies, grabbing the thermos and taking a sip. “oh my god, i love you.”

“you better be talking to the coffee,” you warn him as you grab the coffee back from him.

“i’ll say it to you someday,” he promises, walking around to the passenger side of the car before opening your door. “if you let me.”

“what’s gotten into you lately?” you ask with a smile. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on jungkook, and recently it’s gotten worse. after you started working together, you noticed how many shared friends you have, so you’ve been hanging out more and more the past few months. jungkook has always been more than nice to you, but these flirty little comments are a welcome change. you hope they keep coming.

“is it cool if we stop at the gas station real quick?” he asks as he gets into the driver’s seat. “it’s an hour drive and i need gas and snacks.”

“fine with me. how about cheez-its and rice krispies?”

“i had my fill of those at work this week, thanks,” jungkook laughs.

at the gas station, you offer to get the snacks while jungkook stays at the pump. you’re looking for your favorite gas station snack, a crappy fruit and cheese danish that you could eat every day. jungkook finds you bent over in the sweets aisle, ass poking out too much for him to pass by and not push your face right into the premade baked goods. he considers it, because funny, but mean. he also considers passing behind you and smacking your ass as he does so you’ll move. tempting, but maybe too far. he opts for just bending down next to you to see what’s so interesting.

“what are we looking for?” he asks, scanning the labels for something to try.

“cherry and cheese,” you tell him, moving a blueberry danish out of the way, hoping to find what you want, but no luck.

“what? that sounds gross,” jungkook replies as he stands. “you like that?”

“it’s one of my favorites,” you tell him as you move into a squat. jungkook slides behind you and looks for his favorite jelly candy as you keep searching. “what’s so gross about it? they go well together.”

“like us.”

“what?”

“huh?” jungkook asks, staring down at you with a glint in his eyes. the glare you give him is definitely ignored as jungkook looks back up and spots something on the top shelf. he grabs it and hands it to you. “this what you want?”

“yeah, it is,” you reply. “thanks. get another one for yourself.”

“why?” he asks, screwing his face up in disgust.

“because i know you’ll want to try some even with the way you’re acting right now, and i don’t like sharing.”

“whatever you say,” he grumbles with a roll of his eyes. “now help me find the sour worms.”

jungkook tried the danish, and he hated it.

have you ever seen a baby eating a lemon? it was like that, except jungkook spat what was in his mouth into his hand and then tossed it out the window of his car as he drove. sure, that whole part was gross, but he looked cute when he didn’t like the danish. who doesn’t love babies making silly faces?

“i can’t believe you like that, but i can’t believe you convinced me to try it,” jungkook complains.

“kook, i think if i told you electrocuting yourself was fun you would try it just because i said i liked it,” you reply. he thinks about it for a moment before nodding, a slight tint gracing his cheeks.

“you’re right, but that’s not gonna make me finish your gross choice of snack.”

“fine, more for me,” you say, grabbing the discarded treat in the cupholder. you take a bite, not really caring that jungkook’s mouth was on it before you.

“omg.”

“did you just say ‘omg’ out loud?”

“yes, why?”

“you’re a loser,” you laugh, taking another bite, causing jungkook to gasp again. “what?”

“it’s like we just kissed,” he replies, almost giggling through his toothy smile.

“what do you even mean by that.”

“we just swapped spit.”

“you’re disgusting. stop talking.”

“hey, you’re the one that wants to kiss me,” jungkook says with a shrug. you want to protest, but you don’t want to convince him that you’re totally against kissing him. you’d actually very much like to plant your lips on his and never let go, but life doesn’t always give you what you want. jungkook notices your silence and smiles. “you’re not denying it.”

“i’m being polite.”

“mmmhmm,” he replies, failing to hide how pleased he is as he pulls into a treacherously sloped driveway. “we’re here.”

it’s turning into a beautiful day. the morning chill is starting to slowly melt away, and you find yourself sweating slightly as you help jungkook move all of the junk from his car. he insisted on doing it himself, but you felt super weird just standing there while he huffed and puffed carrying things back and forth, so you finally jumped in. it’s still just the two of you here, the friend’s uncle had successfully given you both a crash course on how to handle the boat, and you’re confident the two of you can share that info with yoongi when he gets here and hopefully no one will get hurt.

speaking of yoongi, he said he was a few minutes away, and that was more than a few minutes ago. maybe he and hoseok got lost. the final four (as they’ve been calling themselves all morning) will be here later because taehyung didn’t have a swimsuit and they had to make a pit stop at walmart to get him one. you’re familiar with jungkook’s friends, and comfortable with a couple of them, but you don’t know much about taehyung aside from his interest in art and now his view on the boxer vs briefs debate (he was apparently very picky when trying on said swimsuits). but whatever. they’ll get here eventually.

before you know it, you and jungkook have unloaded all of the snacks, alcohol and water accessories from his car, so all that’s left to do is hang out until the boys get here.

“you ready?” jungkook asks, offering you his hand. you give him a questioning look and he motions to the boat. “c’mon, we’re not gonna sit here in the sun while we wait for them. it’s hot as balls.”

“but it’s hot as balls on the boat too,” you counter as you take his outstretched hand and let him pull you behind him on the dock.

“yeah, but at least we’re on a boat.”

he leads you to the edge of the shaky dock and let’s go of your hand momentarily to steady himself as he steps over to the boat. he turns back and offers his hand again, giving yours a squeeze as he guides you over the gap of water. the boat is slippery, so you lose your footing slightly and jungkook reacts quickly by wrapping you in his arms. the boat is bobbing a little too much for your liking, but jungkook is giggling and that distracts you enough from the fact that you could’ve fallen just now.

as you both stand there awkwardly staring at each other, you don’t notice yoongi’s car pulling up to the top of the hill and its two passengers walking out toward the water.

“oooh, what do we have here?” hoseok asks as he sees you holding onto each other for dear life. you separate quickly, making the newcomers laugh.

“don’t stop because we’re here,” yoongi replies.

“yeah, i can hug yoongi if it makes things less awkward for you,” hoseok offers.

“please don’t do that,” yoongi quips back.

“i’ll get you when you least expect it, hyung.”

jungkook, still standing very close to you, clears his throat and waves yoongi over. you scoot around them to help hoseok with the bag of food in his hands.

“are you sure you know how to drive a boat, yoongi?” you ask.

“i’m a fast learner,” he replies.

“that’s not very reassuring.”

“i’ve done it before, y/n,” he laughs. “just not with this kind of motor, but it won’t take long to figure out. everything will be nice and safe, i promise.”

“besides, we have jungkookie here to save you even if hyung throws us overboard,” hoseok jokes.

speaking of jungkook, he’s rustling around the boat, trying to figure out how to put the suncover up. his jacket from this morning has been tossed aside, and he’s in a baggy tank top. you allow yourself a moment to admire the way his muscles ripple as he works when you notice -

“you finished your sleeve?” you ask him. his head snaps up in your direction and he smiles.

“enjoying the show?” he teases.

“answer the question.”

“honestly, i wanted it to be a surprise,” he replies, stretching the arm out and turning it around as best he can.

“so what, you were gonna take your shirt off and punch me and that’s how i was supposed to find out?”

“are you offering?”

“i’m just mad you didn’t take me with you! i was gonna get something this time,” you complain with a slight pout, which jungkook scrunches his nose at. you’re really cute, he thinks to himself.

“my artist called me last minute and said they had an opening, so i went in as soon as i could. i think you were still handling six hungry toddlers,” he explains.

“so is that why you invited me today?” you laugh. “you couldn’t think of a reasonable way to take your shirt off in front of me so i had to come with you to the lake for the big reveal?”

“jungkook, if you say yes, then jin and i are giving you the sex talk. you gotta up your game,” yoongi mumbles.

“no,” jungkook insists, ignoring yoongi. “i invited you today because i think it’ll be fun and i wanted you to be here.”

“and he wanted to see you in a swimsuit,” hoseok adds, pulling some cookies out of the bag of snacks. he offers them to you and you gladly accept. then he turns and pops one into yoongi’s mouth as he yawns, before he tosses one over to jungkook, happily shouting “a cookie for kookie!”

“that’s cute,” you smile, liking the way hoseok babies jungkook. it’s got him flustered, and it’s kind of adorable.

“kook, did you hear that? y/n thinks you’re cute,” hoseok sing-songs.

“i- that’s not...i didn’t say that,” you stumble. “the rhyming was cute. if anything, i called hoseok cute.”

“everyone thinks hobi is cute,” yoongi replies. “but jungkook? eh.”

“eh?!” jungkook shouts. “i’m just eh to you hyung?”

“now you hurt the boy’s feelings,” you tell yoongi, and he shrugs.

“you should’ve just called him cute.”

you look over and notice jungkook is staring at you, an eyebrow quirked in a challenge. hoseok is watching and munching like this is a movie, and yoongi looks between you and the so-called cutie and laughs to himself.

“well?” jungkook asks.

“i mean, yeah, you are cute, sometimes,” you begin. “not when you’re being annoying though.”

“i’m not annoying!”

“yes you are,” hoseok and yoongi agree in unison. jungkook huffs at that and looks back at you.

“now my feelings are hurt again. talk more about me being cute,” he pleads as he finally gives up on the suncover and joins you on the wraparound couch of the boat. he’s looking at you with the absolute worst puppy dog eyes, so you keep going.

“uh, you’re cute with the kids i guess? like when they use you as their personal playground and you’re all giggling. that’s cute,” you offer. “or when the little girls get hurt, they always run to you first and you cheer them up with sweet songs.”

“hmm, family planning perhaps?” you hear hoseok joke with yoongi.

you would go on (or deny how often you’ve thought about jungkook being a dad) but the other car of boys has finally arrived, so the two instigators leave the boat to help them unload. that leaves you next to jungkook, who’s not done talking about the cute stuff.

“i didn’t know you noticed all of that,” jungkook whispers, suddenly sitting very close to you. you try to act like it’s nothing, but he stops you. “ah ah, now it’s my turn.”

“your turn? for what?”

“for talking about how cute you are,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing ever. if he had his way he would be pulling up a whole powerpoint presentation right now, but he has to rely on his words, which is fine. “first of all, you have great style. you’re maybe the only person who can make the daycare uniform look like a capital o outfit everyday you come in. and the way your eyes light up when a kid tells you a story, or shows you something they made? that’s my favorite. wish you would look at me like that someday.”

“you...what?” you almost can’t believe where this conversation has gone, but it’s making your heart beat faster and you’re not ready for it to stop.

“i wish i could make your eyes light up like i’m the only person you can see,” he clarifies, locking eyes with you. he holds your gaze for a moment before his eyes flick down to your lips. you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close, but the movement was obvious. jungkook wants to kiss you.

“and what would you do if they did?” you challenge, repeating the same glance from his eyes down to his lips. your gaze lingers a little longer, and when you look back up at jungkook you know what’s coming next. that doesn’t mean it’s not shocking, though.

kissing jungkook is like pulling down a piece of the sun and slamming it into your chest. the warmth that he exudes, and the softness of his lips as they caress yours, it’s perfect. but -

“wait,” jungkook mumbles against your lips. you pull back, worried.

“what?”

“i did that wrong.”

“wha..how? jungkook, i thought that was nice,” you assure him but he shakes his head.

“i did it wrong,” he insists, looking at you and noticing the shine in your eyes that he was hoping for. “can i kiss you again?”

you nod and let out a quiet “yes” before jungkook is cupping your face and connecting your lips again. this one is stronger, more intentional and you’re glad he wanted to try again. not that the first kiss was bad, your mind is still reeling from that first one. but this feels like a kiss full of love. it feels like a kiss from someone that’s been pining for you over bags of cheez-its and funny kid stories, but they didn’t know how to tell you how badly they wanted to do this. jungkook didn’t know how to tell you, but now he doesn’t have to because this kiss tells you everything you need to know.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook one shot

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kkusuka · 3 years

Note

hiii I was wondering if you could do a threesome w kuroo bokuto and y/n?? plsss💞

i can actually, that’s the fun part.

(I'm going to try to use gender-neutral pronouns, but the reader has female anatomy, I hope that’s ok!)

I deadass just took this and ran with it oml.

All 18+, public sex, circumstantial humiliation, slight voyeurism, orgasm denial, threesome M/F/M, they’re both kind mean but not really, slight degrading

Synopsis: Your college chem class is kicking your ass so when your professor recommends you to Kuroo, who seems to come in a package deal with another owl-ish boy, you were more than thankful.

4/25

You couldn't believe it, you were so sure you had done well on this test. You made flashcards and even scoured the web for as many quizlets on the subject as you possibly could. But one thing remained the same: Masahiro sensei’s chemistry class was kicking your ass.

No matter how many times you looked at the reference tables and started at the elements you didn't understand a single word that came out of that man's mouth. What’s worse is that you seemed to be the only one who ever had trouble in his class, and he always made sure to let you know.

Side glances during lectures, calling you out when he knows you have no clue what the answer could be, talking about how 'some people’ would do better if they tried harder. You just didn't know what else to do.

So, in some twisted way, you were thankful when he requested to keep you a few minutes after class requesting to talk about some personal issues. Issues you wished would include a new grade and easier tests.

But him telling you about a boy with exceptional grades who would be a perfect fit to help you out, was something you had expected, but did not want. You felt more embarrassed than you already were, couldn't he just give you a website where you could watch videos about ionic and binary compounds?

Looking back to the phone number he had written for you on an index card, you relent. Sending a quick message to the number you shut your phone off and tried to get to your dorm, dropping onto your bed faster than you’d like to admit.

Hey, this is y/n l/n, Masahiro-sensei gave me your number for possible tutoring, if you're up for it of course. Any time for me works. 12:56 pm

Yeah, he let me know about a possible tutoring session, how about the library tomorrow at 4? 1:03 pm

I'm Kuroo Tetsurou btw. 1:07 pm

And like that your day got 10x worse, you don't even know who this way. You at least hoped it was the boy with the fluffy hair in the first row. At least Masahio told him, you assume it may have gone worse, tomorrow at the library at 4.

You could deal with that.

Your first meeting had gone fairly well. You arrived that the library entrance five minutes early reaching for your phone to let the mysterious Kuroo Tetsurou know that you had arrived, but before you could get that far-

“No need babe, I'm right here, L/n right?”

He was tall, taller than you at least. Tall enough to be able to lock down at you. Looking at you with his narrow hazel eyes and his sleazy yet comforting cat-like smile. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a bright red- volleyball jacket? Nekoma volleyball club must be from high school.

He led you to an isolated corner of the science section on the third floor, a place you had frequented during your mid-semester crying chemistry sessions-- hopefully your tears have dried up by now and you won't make a fool of yourself.

He wasted no time asking exactly what you need help with and seemed more than surprised when you told him everything. He let out a laugh that made you want to get up and run away before letting you know that it was normal to be confused and that you would just start with the electron configurations.

It was going great, he was an amazing teacher and knew exactly what to tell you to make you remember all the rules of the SPDF configurations and everything leading up to the oxidation states of the transition metals. It was just sad that he had to go over everything a second time just for you to get it in your mind.

In the middle of explaining lead’s second oxidation state, Kuroos phone lit up with a notification a Bokuto was calling. Without a second glance, he declined the call and went right to the first state of silver.

Three seconds in this same Bokuto called back after a few choice texts, letting out a sigh he apologized muting about a stupid owl not giving him a moment of rest no matter the time of day.

He picked up and tried to walk away as quick as he could, the only thing you could gain from the conversion was a

HEY HEY! you still at the library? Though you’d be done by now Kuroo!

To which Kuroo told whoever was on the end of the line, that he didn't mind and they should mind their own business. Then you were out of earshot. when he came back he looked as if the life was sucked from his soul.

He plopped into the chair across from you and sat for a second before releasing a deep breath. He looked back at you connecting eyes--they looked impossibly cat-like under the lights of the library-- before shooting you a shifty smirk.

“Babe you're doing great but I've gotta cut it off for today, and you don't mind if a friend joins us for the next few sessions? He isn't that bright.”

It took you of all five seconds to think of your answer, another person who wasn't the brightest will make you look less stupid. Just the thought made you feel bad, you're sure that Bokuto was a wonderful person, hopefully, and did not deserve to be used to make you seem less hopeless. Yet still,

“Yes! That’s totally fine, I'll see you in two days?”

“Sounds great”

“‘C'mon babe what's the dashed configuration of bromine?”

You didn't know, or maybe you did. It's not like that would matter considering the two fingers curling into your sweet spot. You could only focus on the way he rubbed your throbbing nub that sent sparks straight beach into your core.

“I-i I don’t- god, please, please, need to cum.” you were so close, Kuroo had already ripped two orgasms from you because you didn't know the answer, and you were going to scream if he did it again. “Please, wanna cum”

“No can do baby Owl, that’s the deal no cumming until you get the question.”

Bokuto.

You would have forgotten he was there if it weren't for his piercing gaze on Kuroo’s fingers drenched in your slick. Not once has it wavered from you, your silt to you tits up to your lips.

You had to try, he’ll stop. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know the answer, they know you know the answer. Somewhere else in your mind you think about how you got caught up in this in the first place.

How Kuroo was frustrated and told you the if you got another wrong answer he would fuck the right one into you. Or bokuto purposely mocking him that sent him further until his hands were pulling your panties down your legs stuffing two fingers in your cunt, saying how he won't stop until you get all the answers right.

“Two- e-eight- eight-teen- please please, si--six- NO seven, it’s seven. ‘M so close please”

Kuroo seemed pleased with your answer, his hands moving quickly around your bud and curling further into your g-spot as Bokuto makes his way around the table to where the two of you are seated.

Pulling the shirt above your head, Bokuto circles a nipple through the fabric of your bra commenting on how quickly it had pebbled, attaching his mouth to your other as Kuroo commanded you to cum around his relentless digits.

Clenching around his fingers you hadn't noticed a head of white and black hair moving towards your center. Coming off the high of your orgasm you felt Bokuto’s tongue spread your lips as his nose circled your clit.

“Oh, dude! You gotta taste ‘em! Like liquid gold, Man!”

You flushed further, if possible, tethering a hand into Bokuto's hair. Understanding the compliment Kuroo swiped a finger along your slick-covered thighs and let a mockingly loud moan fall between his lips.

As if you could be more embarrassed by the noises of Bokuto slurping whatever he could catch in his mouth, Kuroo’s coos of how red you look and how delicious you look, as the man under you eats as if it was his last meal.

Two hands grabbed your waist and lifted you off Bokuto, placing you back on your feet. Turing you toward the wall of windows and hand on your back bent you over the table surrounded by all of your notes.

“Look at that, she’s just gushing all over the place. All this over a chemistry lesson? Who knew I was teaching such a cockwhore this whole time.” a hand met your clit as Kuroo began to push into you, forcing you further into the table.

You heard a gasping moan as he bottomed out, glancing over to where Bokuto sat hand around the base of his cock, standing as Kuroo waved him over to you.

“I think you can fit two, right?” and just like that bokuto was forcing his way into your clenching walls. There was discomfort until a soft pop to which both the boys let out a sigh.

You feel so full. You didn't know who but one of them was brushing against your cervix. The first thrust came to you as a surprise, following with a second's rest before the two of them created a steady rhythm.

The faster they went the more apparent it was, they were using you like a fleshlight. You couldn't even speak as a cock hit right at your g-spot. Back arching you let out a series of small “ahs” much to Kuroo’s enjoyment.

“You fucking like this! Getting dicked where everyone can see. By two cocks no less!” he laughed pulling your head up from its place in your arms, making you have to look at your reflection in the glass.

“No-no I-” a smack to your ass stopped you from trying to defend what little dignity you had left. There was no defending as Bokuto leaned towards your ear, never breaking rhythm.

“No?,” he was practically snarling, “Then why the hell are you clenching our dicks so well, Baby Owl?”

As if he flipped a switch your world went dark as you clenched further on the two men as you came. Riding out your orgasm neither of them let up the pace as they jackhammered into your poor pussy.

Bokuto came first, with a loud groan of your name before he slumped into the chair he previously inhabited. Settling to watch as Kuroo pulled your chest up to meet your back to his chest. Rutting into you as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

If you weren't so sure this place was desolate you would be worried about someone hearing the slaps of your skin, or Kuroo’s final grunt as he filled you with his load, dropping you to lean on the table.

At least your next chemistry test was graded with a 21/25, you’re sure the two of them will love to hear about that.

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq #hq smut #hq x reader #my brain went brrrrrrr #this is kinda all over the place #kinda bad but whatever

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thatfanficstuff · 3 years

Text

Unexpected - Stucky x Reader

Pairing Grouping: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Steamy fluff with a dash cupful of foul mouthed Reader and super soldier. Also liberal use of sugar and baby but no sugar babies.

A/N: short fluff is no 3300+ of very steamy fluff. I’m gonna go with 16+ on this one folks. Oh, and STUCKY!!!

***

They didn’t think anything of it at first. It was just little things after all. Things that hardly warranted their attention. It wasn’t until Tony mentioned it that they began to take notice.

“Hey, Capsicle, you and tin man been sneaking off to the store without telling anyone? You could at least ask if we needed anything? I’ve been out of blueberries for days,” Tony said one night as the team sat to watch a movie.

“What are you talking about, Stark?” Steve asked with a furrowed brow.

Tony gestured at the bag of gummy worms that you and Bucky were currently sharing. “Just that you two seem to be the only ones around here that never run out of your favorite goodies. You could have stocked up for everyone. That’s all I’m saying.” He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand through the air as if it wasn’t important, though clearly it was if he’d brought it up.

You rolled your eyes. “Tony, you’re a billionaire. Pay someone to do your shopping and have it delivered, you big baby.”

The super soldiers on either side of you laughed and you settled more firmly into your seat between them. Tony started to say something else but Natasha smacked his arm. “Shut up. Movie’s starting.”

He grumbled which brought another smile to your face. He really was an overgrown kid sometimes. Really, you were just pleased that he’d shut the hell up. After all, if you’d wanted your crushes to know you were secretly taking care of them, you would have done it not so secretly. Liking both of them was awkward enough without them being aware of it, thank you very much.

Honestly, until that day, Steve had just assumed that Tony had someone that replenished the food in the kitchenette on their floor. True, they’d never seen anyone, but it wasn’t like it happened by magic. It was just over a week later when Steve glanced up from his drawing when Bucky walked into their living room. “Hey Buck, you didn’t do any cleaning did you?”

Bucky snorted. “There’s never anything to clean is there?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, I noticed that to. I asked Stark if he had a service that did our floor. You know what he said?”

“I’m guessing he said no or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Bucky answered as he sat across the table from his boyfriend.

“He asked if I wanted him to get someone in to help us out.”

Confusion caused Bucky’s brow to furrow as he leaned forward. “So, someone has been coming into our space, replacing our food and cleaning up after us and we have no idea who it is?”

“Looks like it.”

There was a stretch of silence before Bucky asked, “Why?”

***

It started when the boys were on a mission. You’d raided Buck’s candy stash for movie night and before you replaced it, you’d done an inventory and picked up everything else they were needing. It wasn’t like it took much more effort. And when you’d seen how happy they were when they arrived home to all their favorites, that was all the incentive you needed to keep doing it.

You made sure to refill their stash when they were on mission or out for training so they wouldn’t catch you. There was always the chance they’d return when you weren’t expecting it, but the odds were slim. After all, you made a living by sneaking around unseen, hence the name Shadow. The cleaning started when they were gone on a mission and you didn’t want them coming home to clutter and dust. You weren’t even sure that they noticed, but it made you happy to have something else you could do for them.

Steve and Bucky were currently on week three of a mission with Nat and Sam and you were sorting out the groceries you’d just bought while you tried to think of something special you could do for them.

“So, why do you do it exactly?” you heard from behind you, causing you to jump. The twins were in San Francisco until tomorrow so you should have had the floor to yourself.

You scowled when you found Tony standing behind you wearing his infamous smirk.

“Jumpy?”

Your cheeks heated as you turned back to the task at hand, hoping Tony wouldn’t notice at least half of your food was for the super soldiers. “Mind was just elsewhere. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering why you pamper the geriatric twins if you aren’t going to take credit for it?”

You froze briefly before finishing up and placing the boys’ food back into bags so you could carry it upstairs. Finally, you turned and crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to deny it?”

He chuckled as he moved closer. “They asked me to look into it before they left. It was the complete lack of evidence that led me to you actually. Only one person I know can get around my system like that.”

“Shit.” You were a technomancer and were very skilled at making tech do what you wanted. Tony hadn’t been thrilled the first time you’d completely circumvented the tower’s security. Now he used you to test out new systems. Finally, you quit freaking out enough to meet his eyes. “Are you going to tell them?”

He tilted his head and frowned at you. “Why are you so dead set against them figuring this out? You know they won’t be anything other than grateful.”

“Because they’ll want to know why and I can’t tell them that.” Your voice was quiet but you knew he’d heard your answer.

“Well how about you tell me then, sparky?” he suggested.

You rolled your eyes at his stupid nickname as you sighed. He wasn’t the most trustworthy when it came to secrets but you were dying to tell someone. And honestly, he would probably be the least judgmental out of everyone. “You can’t tell anyone, Tony. I mean it.”

He rubbed his hands together and closed most of the distance between you. “My lips are sealed. You have my word.”

You arched a brow but chose not to comment. You closed your eyes not wanting to look at him as you made the confession. “I might possibly be just a little bit in love with them.” When you got no response you opened one eye to find Tony grinning at you as he rocked on his feet. You opened the other eye to give him a narrow-eyed look. “What?”

“I think you should tell them.”

“Not funny, Stark.”

“Wasn’t meant to be, sweetheart.” You just stared at him, saying nothing. After a few moments, he sighed. “Listen, as amusing as it might be to trick you into having that conversation with them and recording it to watch at my leisure later, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“That little admission didn’t exactly help your cause any.”

He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t tell you that I know for sure how they’ll react, because I can’t. I also can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught them checking you out when they think no one’s watching. Or how many times they’ve argued about who got to sit beside you when there was only one seat left. Or the number of whispered conversations they have that fade away when you walk into the room. And while I have had many female friends over the years, I have never suggested any of them sit in my lap unless I was trying to take things beyond friendship.”

You frowned. “I sit in their laps all the time.”

His hands went out to the side as if to say ‘see?’.

Your frown deepened as you recalled something else. “Wait, didn’t you try to get me to sit in your lap when I was still new?”

Tony chuckled and turned around to walk off. “Only proving my point, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

It was barely five minutes after he left that you gathered the bags of food to take upstairs and put away. You weren’t certain you’d survive sitting around doing nothing and there was only so much training you could stand in a day. “Protocol five, J,” you said as you stepped onto the elevator. “Super soldiers’ floor, please.”

“Of course, Miss.” Protocol five would shut down all recording devices anywhere in your vicinity until you turned it off.

You made short work of putting the food away and glanced around. Things were fairly tidy though they could use a dust and a quick vacuum. A peek in both bedrooms had you wrinkling your nose. They’d had back-to-back missions before they’d left on the current one and obviously hadn’t had time to do laundry. While the boys normally slept together, they maintained their own spaces in case one of them was having a bad night or just needed some time to themselves.

Moving into Bucky’s space, you gathered up all the laundry and threw it out into the hallway. You also stripped the bedding and added it to the pile. You put a load in the washer before moving to Steve’s room. There was more laundry there as it was the space they shared the most often. You added to the pile already in the hallway before stripping those sheets as well.

After sorting the clothes into loads, you took about half of them down to your floor and started a load there as well before heading back upstairs. You opened windows in both bedrooms to let them air out as you put fresh sheets on the beds. You dusted and straightened and vacuumed only pausing as necessary to switch out the laundry.

By the time you finished all but the last loads of laundry, their rooms looked better than they had in months and they had clean sheets to crawl into when they got home. You’d cleaned the rest of the floor as well and were heading back to your floor to take care of the last of the clothes. You had to wait a bit for them to finish drying, but then once it was all folded and sorted, you loaded up the laundry basket to put it away. You were happy you’d gotten so much done.

Apparently ignoring your feelings made you productive, who knew? Most of the clothes in your basket were Buck’s so you headed to his room first. You reached for the handle, only to have the door open on its own. Your mouth dropped and the basket fell to your feet as you ran your gaze up a naked torso to see Bucky frowning at you. He was dressed in a pair of sweats and his hair was still wet from a shower. His gaze darted from you to the basket and back as a grin crept over his face. “Fuck,” you breathed out and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

He reached out and snagged your wrist before you got more than a step. “I don’t think so, sugar.” He tugged you gently back in his direction and lifted your chin with a finger since you seemed unable to look at him on your own. “Where do you think you’re going to escape to anyway, Y/N? We know where you live.”

“I was thinking of moving to Alaska. I hear it’s nice there this time of year.”

“You hate the cold,” he said with a laugh and looped an arm around your waist.

Your heart raced and you prayed that his stupid super soldier senses wouldn’t clue him in, but who were you kidding? You’d never be that lucky.

“Oh, Steve,” he called in a sing-song voice. “I have something for you.”

“Not now, Buck. I’m…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he stepped into the hall and saw you. His ears and cheeks turned a rather adorable shade of red and you couldn’t stop a giggle at the sight. “What’s this?” he asked looking between the two of you.

Bucky nudged the laundry basket into view with his foot. “I intercepted her on her way to put away the last of the laundry.”

Steve straightened immediately. “Oh, did you?”

And damned if his voice didn’t drop a whole octave when he said it. Now it was your turn to be embarrassed. You squirmed in Bucky’s hold but didn’t try to escape. There was no point. He chuckled behind you and passed you over to Steve when he held a hand out toward you. You licked your lips as you took it and let him lead you into the living room.

He sat on the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Bucky sat right beside him and pulled your legs onto his lap. You cleared your throat. “I can sit by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, baby,” Steve assured. “But I’m happy with you in my lap. And you like to make me happy, don’t you, Y/N?”

Oh.

My.

God.

That was not fair. Not fucking fair at all.

Steve trailed a finger up your spine, chuckling when you shivered at his touch. His finger continued it’s journey up your neck then back along its previous path as he talked. “When Buck and I were kids, there wasn’t a lot of money to go around. Less so for me because of my meds. Our folks taking care of us meant putting food on the table and mending our clothes. Sometimes there might be enough for a dime novel or some sweets, but for the most part we took care of each other.”

Bucky kept rubbing little circles on your ankle with his thumb. “That hasn’t changed much over the last several decades. You know, except when I was trying to kill him. But then someone else started taking care of us. In a million little ways we didn’t always notice. Not right away anyway.”

“But then we did notice and we started making note of everything that made us feel cared for.” Steve’s hand flattened on your back and his fingers flexed slightly as he said, “Loved.”

“So, tell us, Y/N, why did you do it?” Bucky asked.

You shrugged and stared at your hands where they twisted together in your lap. “I stole your candy and needed to replace it so I picked up some other stuff. But then I saw how happy you were when you had your favorite snacks when you got home and that made me happy. The more I did, the happier and more relaxed you seemed so I kept doing it. I like it when you’re happy. Both of you.”

“That the only reason, baby? You like us happy?” Steve asked as he trailed that damned finger back up your spine.

You jumped out of his lap and stepped back until you were out of easy reach for either of them. They stared at you in surprise and you held out a hand to stop them when they started to stand. “No. You stay put. You two aren’t playing fair.”

“How’s that, doll?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes sparking with amusement.

“You with the touching and the sugar and the arm around the waist,” you said gesturing to Bucky before turning to his boyfriend. “And you with the baby and more touching and the deep voice. It’s not fair. It’s not.” You sucked in a breath. “My entire life I’ve been attracted to the unattainable guy. Every fucking time. But this time I really outdid myself because I fell in love with not just one, but two unattainable men and they’re dating each other. I mean fuck my life. Seriously. What is that? So yes, I did all of this because I love you. Both of you. And I’ll keep doing it for the same reason and it will always make me happy to see you happy. But at the end of the day, you two have each other and I don’t and that’s not fucking fair so stop. Just stop, okay?”

Steve stood first as if afraid to startle you. He stepped forward and swept his thumb across your cheek wiping away the tears you hadn’t been aware of. His hands settled on either side of your neck as he studied your eyes for the longest time. “You’ve got quite the fucking mouth on you, baby,” he said then tugged you forward and slammed his lips onto yours.

You hesitated for only a moment, a brief stretch of time and then you let yourself go. Your Steve was kissing you and it was nothing like you’d imagined. There was nothing soft or questioning about it. It was firm, sure, and altogether fucking fantastic. His hands moved to your thighs and lifted as his lips stayed glued to yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and as he turned, his lips slid from your mouth to travel the length of your neck. His open mouth kisses alternated with tiny nips that were sure to bruise and you rolled your hips against him in response. He hissed against your skin and you smiled.

A large hand grasped your chin and turned your head until another pair of lips slanted over yours. Bucky. His kiss was dark and rich and full of promises. He shifted his body so he supported your back as his hands found the hem of your shirt. Cool metal and warm flesh contrasted against your skin as he slid over your belly and up to caress your breasts. “Oh God.” You rolled your hips again, Steve pressed against your front and Bucky pressed against your ass.

“Fuck,” Steve said as his hands tightened on your waist in an effort to still your movements.

Bucky chuckled against the back of your neck and bit at the skin there, his bite firmer, more punishing than Steve’s. “What’s the matter, punk? She pushing you to the edge already?”

“Suck it, Barnes.”

“I intend to, Rogers.”

That had you grinning. This playful love they had between them was what you wanted. Was part of the reason you fell in love with both of them. Bucky’s gaze shifted to you and he mirrored your grin. “I love you, Buck.”

His grin widened. “You hear that, Stevie? She loves me. God, that’s sexy.” He kissed you soundly then pulled you from Steve’s arms to carry you bridal style to the bedroom. “I love you, too, sugar.”

That earned him another kiss. You put your hand against the door frame to stop him before he could carry you inside. This needed to be said before you were all in bed together. You turned to find Steve with a question in his eyes. “I love you, too, Steve.”

His smile was sweet, soft. “I know you do, baby.” He placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a soft kiss. “I love you, too. Have for awhile if I’m honest. We both have. Turns out we were both feeling guilty for loving someone else and it was the same girl. Never dreamed you’d actually be ours though.” You kissed him again and it only took a moment for it to take on a rougher edge.

Bucky turned you so he could carry you into the room, causing your lips to be pulled from Steve’s. You whimpered at the loss of contact and both men chuckled. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll have more of us than you can handle in a moment.”

You squealed as Buck tossed you into the middle of their king sized bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows and bit your lip as you looked at the two men standing before you. “Promise, soldiers?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s a goddamn guarantee.”

#stucky x reader #stucky fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #stucky x you #poly fanfiction

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classyklancey · 3 years

Text

White Magnolia

Pairing: Keith Kogane x Lance McClain Genre: fluff (pining idiots) Warnings: Keith is so in love it’s gross Summary: Lance convinces Keith to go on a road trip with him to California. Keith struggles to hide his pining Word Count: 3.5k words A/N: this was supposed to be posted for Lance’s birthday but oh well-

Keith doesn’t know why he decided to indulge Lance in such a crazy fantasy. One minute Lance is just rambling about what he misses about Cuba and the next, Lance is driving them both from Texas to California in his blue Tacoma. Keith really can’t find it in him to complain though with the way the sun is shining on Lance’s beautiful bronze skin and the wind is blowing through his brown, curly locks.

What Keith can complain about though is Lance’s terrible taste in music. For some reason, Lance’s road trip playlist—which is mysteriously called ‘Not a thing to do, but talk to you. WE'RE ALL ALRIGHT! WE'RE ALL ALRIGHT! HELLO WISCONSIN!’ and no matter how much Keith asks, Lance refuses to tell him why it’s called that—is mostly consisted of 90s songs. Being the pining idiot that he is though, Keith can’t find it in him to do any more than light teasing in Lance’s direction as he screeches all the lyrics at the top of his lungs.

One song does however catch Keith’s attention, especially since Lance immediately tries to skip it. “What was that?” Keith asks, smashing his pointer finger against the back button on the radio to bring it back to the song that Lance is currently blushing over.

“Nothing! Stop hitting the back button!” Lance screeches as he keeps trying to skip it only for Keith to hit the back button. They do this three or four times before Lance reaches his right hand over to smack and hit Keith. Keith grunts with every hit that Lance lands, not even noticing that the song he’s been trying to skip is finally playing.

When I first saw you, I saw love And the first time you touched me, I felt love And after all this time You're still the one I love, mmm, yeah-yeah

Keith starts to blush along with Lance, his hand smacking Lance’s away and finally bringing the brunette’s attention back to the song playing. Lance hurriedly skips it and looks at Keith out of the corner of his eye, but Keith pretends not to see as he looks out the window. Keith just assumes that Lance is embarrassed for having such a lovey-dovey song playing with Keith here, but Keith can’t help but feel that this is their song.

Keith is a stupid man who has been stupidly in love with someone who will never return his feelings for as long as they’ve known each other. Keith instantly took a liking to Lance despite having never even had a conversation together. Keith had always admired that Lance was so outspoken and friendly with everyone he met.

Well, except for Keith.

No, you see, Lance had somehow decided that Keith was his rival and that Lance would take him down. First, it was little things, like Lance trying to do better than him on quizzes and he’d brag each and every time he’d even get one single point more than Keith. That was annoying but it wasn’t too bad, Keith could handle that. It slowly began to escalate though over time until it turned to them yelling in each other’s faces and having to be pulled away from one another before it got physical. All that ended up doing was causing Keith to shut him out and pretend he didn’t even exist despite the fact that he could barely keep his eyes off of the blue-eyed Cuban. They ended up getting into the same friend group though since Hunk is friends with Lance, Keith is friends with Pidge, and Hunk and Pidge are friends with each other. It didn’t take them long to bring Keith and Lance together, even though it did take a long, long time. The duo eventually started to see each other as friends and became as thick as thieves.

Keith always craved for more though.

Keith is knocked out of his reminiscing when Lance curses because he missed a turn, his frown instantly becoming a smile when one of his favorite songs comes on. Lance goes back to screaming the words which causes Keith’s grey eyes to roll towards the back of his head. Despite his supposed annoyance, his heart is doing tricks in his chest whenever Lance grows focused on driving, which causes his screeching to become light, melodic singing.

Keith is starting to believe that this is what heaven would be like.

Keith’s eyes focus on Lance’s right hand that rests on the gear shift, his fingers tapping along to whatever annoying song he is playing. Keith suddenly has the urge to reach out and tangle their fingers together, to compare who’s hand is bigger and how their skin tones contrast beautifully.

This all repeats for a while, along with occasional chatter, for about eight hours before Lance grows too tired to drive on anymore. They have about twelve more hours to drive and Keith offers to drive while Lance sleeps, but Lance has an odd reaction. He claims he doesn’t trust Keith to drive ‘his baby’ but something Lance doesn’t know is that Keith has become a bit of a Lance expert. If they’re getting food and Lance says he doesn’t want any, what he really is saying is he doesn’t want to make Keith pay since he forgot his wallet. If Lance seems off and says he’s fine when Keith asks about it, what he really means is that he’s not okay but he wants to appear strong in front of everyone.

So, when Lance says he doesn’t trust Keith to drive his car, what he’s really saying is that he wants them to enjoy the ride there together. ‘It’s called a road trip for a reason, Keith.’ Keith doesn’t fight him on it and offers that they get some food before spending the night in a motel.

After getting some extremely greasy fast food and talking until really late, they finally head into their crappy and very worrisome motel. They both stop in the doorway when they find that there’s only one bed, making both of them stare at it in silence.

“I can sle—”

“I don’t mind tak—”

They both go quiet again when they both talk at the same time, both of their bodies turned slightly away from each other. Lance sighs and places his bag onto a small table by the door, starting to unzip it to pull out all his nightly routine items. “Look, why don’t we just share the bed? The floor is absolutely disgusting and I’m afraid one of us would catch something if we even tried sitting on it,” Lance says as he pulls everything out and begins heading for the bathroom. He makes a face when he walks inside of it before turning to smile at Keith and shooting him his signature wink.

Keith sighs and sets his bag on the chair by the table, deciding that he really didn’t want to sleep on the gross floor nor did he want to make Lance do it. Lance would probably complain about it through the entire night and all of his life if he ended up sleeping there anyway. Keith changes into his pajamas right there seeing as how Lance has seen Keith shirtless many times. Not that he ever seems to notice Keith’s shirtlessness…

The same doesn’t go for Keith though. Oh, no no. Keith has become the master at staring at Lance without getting caught. Well, sometimes he does and each time he’s caught, his face erupts in color. Lance always just assumes it’s from their recent workout or being out in the sun too long. Keith thanks God every day for Lance’s obliviousness despite the fact that he’s not religious. Keith catches himself staring at Lance more than the Cuban man does. He can’t help himself though. Lance has the looks of a god, what with his smooth, caramel skin, thick, curly hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, perfectly straight, white teeth, and the list goes on. Keith’s pretty sure he could write a whole book—no, a trilogy—on Lance’s perfect body. The thing Keith hates the most about his stupid crush though is that it’s not just his body that he likes. No, that would make Keith’s life easier and he’s pretty sure that the universe is out to spite him. No, Keith has to like all of Lance. His bad puns, his stupid finger guns, his cheesy pick-up lines, his corny sense of humor, his everything. Keith wants all of him more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

“Alright, bathroom’s yours!” Lance calls as he walks back over to his bag, smiling when he sees that Keith is wearing the pajama set that Lance had gotten him for Christmas one year. “No way!” Lance shouts in glee before rushing to his bag to pull out his matching pair. Keith sighs down at his red pajamas before looking at Lance’s blue pajamas.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he grumbles as he walks to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I’m not doing anything!” Lance huffs as he starts pulling on his own pjs. Once they are all ready for bed, they stand at the foot of it in another silence.

“So, uh, what side of the bed do you want?” Lance mumbles. Keith shrugs, not really caring either way what side he gets. “Cool, can I get the left side then?” he continues, already moving onto that side of the bed before Keith can even reply. Keith huffs a laugh through his nose before crawling onto the right side. Both of them lay on top of the covers, too scared of what lies beneath the covers to let their skin touch it. Good thing Arizona is such a warm state cause Keith would think he’d freeze otherwise. Guess it also helps that their AC unit doesn’t work anyway.

Unlike Lance, Keith has always been an early riser, so he’s not surprised when he wakes up before the brunette. What he is surprised to find though is that Lance is laying on his chest softly snoring away. Keith’s arms are wrapped around Lance’s torso and he can’t help but to squeeze him a little tighter, hoping that this isn’t a dream. Keith then finds that the still snoozing dork is sweating buckets, if Lance’s semi-damp clothes are anything to go by. Keith’s nose wrinkles at how gross they are but, of course, Keith’s poor weak heart starts beating faster at the fact that they’re cuddling.

And maybe Keith’s wildly beating heart is what causes Lance to stir and to slowly blink his eyes open. He’s letting out a yawn and beginning to stretch before halting in the middle of it, his eyes growing as wide as plates. He suddenly jerks away from Keith, doing so in such a harsh way that it causes him to tumble to the floor with a scream. Keith laughs and sits up, crawling over to Lance’s side of the bed to look over the edge at him. He finds Lance frowning and glaring up at the amused look on Keith’s face.

“It’s not funny,” he grumbles up at Keith, his frown turning into a pout as he sits up. Keith helps Lance up before offering Lance the bathroom first. Lance’s face warms as he stares at where he was once laying, Keith’s brow-raising up at him as he just stands there gawking. He then clears his throat and forces out a bad joke before scurrying to the bathroom.

They both take turns showering and while Lance is taking his, Keith lets his mind wander while he lays on the stiff bed. Keith’s stupid heart makes his stupid brain wonder what it would be like to wake up beside Lance every day, seeing the dried drool on the corner of his mouth and witnessing his sleepy blue eyes come to life the moment they see Keith.

Keith snaps out of his daydream when the bathroom door swings open and reveals a glistening Lance emerging with rolls of steam curling around his body. Keith recognizes the hypnotizing smell of Lance’s vanilla shampoo all the way from the bed, making his heart flutter with the familiar scent.

After Keith takes a brisk shower, they are on the road again. They stop to get breakfast at a diner before leaving the town that they stopped in. It isn’t until they’re in California that they stop again, this time pulling over onto the side of the road. Keith is about to ask why Lance is pulling over when Lance leans against the car and just looks out in front of him. Keith finally takes his eyes off of Lance to look at what Lance has stopped to admire.

When he turns his head, he sees just what Lance is marveling at. Before them are dozens of white magnolia trees that Keith begins marveling at right along with Lance. Keith slowly gets out of the car and leans against it beside Lance, his eyes finding the side of Lance’s face every few seconds. Keith’s eyes widen when Lance suddenly grabs his hand and begins tugging him towards the trees. “Lance! What are you doing? What about the truck?” Keith hollers. Lance just laughs and continues dragging him along without a care in the world, smiling when they reach the sweet-smelling trees.

Lance starts to hum a song as they weave their way between all of the trees, Keith’s heart threatening to beat out of his chest with the way the wind is blowing some of the petals and flowers off of the tree and onto Lance’s hair. They spend quite some time there, their hands still clasped together as they wander around. Keith and Lance end up racing from one tree to another and arguing about who clearly won. Once they settle on that it’s a draw (even though it most definitely wasn’t, Lance), they sit down beneath one of the larger trees to escape the unforgiving sun. They lean against each other and talk about any and everything, Keith’s heart threatening to pop out of his chest when Lance keeps mindlessly playing with Keith’s hands. Lance stops telling a story of something that happened last summer mid-sentence when a whole magnolia flower lands in his lap.

“These are edible, you know,” he says as he picks it up, studying it like it’s one of the greatest wonders of the world.

“What?” Keith asks, not being sure if he should trust Lance or not. This could be revenge when Keith told him that a flower he found on their weekly hike was good and tasted like cinnamon. Lance had been suspicious but ended up going for it anyway and immediately regretting it. Lance just about strangled Keith but Keith had laughed so hard that tears were falling down his face. It made Lance’s job of strangling Keith easier though since his body was so weak from laughter.

“Yeah. They’re actually pretty good. They have a mild ginger taste,” he explains. Before Keith can tell him to prove it, he’s already taking a bite. Keith watches with wide eyes as he chews and swallows, a soft smile coming to his face. Either it’s actually good or Lance is an amazing actor. He offers the flower to Keith and Keith decides to go for it just as Lance went for it when their situation was reversed. Keith found that he was, in fact, not lying.

When Lance finally decides they can leave, Keith stops him with a soft smile. He reaches up, tugs one of the flowers from the tree, and then faces Lance, finding his perfectly waxed brows furrowed together. Keith’s smile grows more as he tucks the flower behind Lance’s ear, causing the Cuban’s face to erupt with color.

Keith has changed his mind. This is what heaven must be like.

Lance finally lets Keith choose some music to play once they continue driving, his hand always coming up to tuck the flower back down behind his ear whenever the wind threatens to blow it away. When Keith plays some of his music though, of course Lance complains about the songs. Keith can tell he doesn’t have any malice behind his words though.

“Do you listen to anything that isn’t loud and dizzying, Mullet?” Lance jabs, turning to look at him with a crooked smile when they come to a stop at a light. Keith scoffs and turns his gaze away from the many shops lining the street to face Lance.

“Do you listen to anything that isn’t repetitive and annoying?” he fires right back with his usual smirk. Lance scoffs just like Keith did before turning his eyes back onto the road, his fingers going back to tapping on the gear shift, which brings Keith’s gaze back to his hand.

When they finally reach their destination in California, the sun is slowly starting to sink towards the horizon. Lance rushes out of the truck stop that they had decided to stop at when he notices it. “Mullet! C’mon! Hurry up! We are going to miss it!” Keith can’t really take him seriously when he’s wearing dollar sign shades that he bought in the gift shop. He’s sure he looks just as ridiculous with his alien eyes shades.

“Miss what?” he asks as he follows Lance at a much slower pace to his truck. Lance doesn’t reply though. Instead, he rips them out of the parking lot before Keith even has his door shut, making Keith screech and holler at him to slow down despite his laughter. He realizes why Lance was in such a big hurry when Lance parks and then flies out of his truck. Keith follows Lance down to the beach, a soft ‘wow’ leaving him when he sees the pretty blue water reflecting the sun that has just touched the horizon. Lance doesn’t seem to think Keith is going fast enough though, seeing as how he snatches his hand up and once again starts dragging him towards the coastline.

When Lance’s bare feet touch the water—wait, when did he take off his shoes?—the biggest smile that Keith has ever seen spreads across Lance’s face. Hunk wasn’t kidding when he told Keith that Lance belongs in the water. Keith smiles and gives his hand a squeeze before turning to look at the setting sun, not even caring that his boots are getting wet right now.

When the sun is gone behind the ocean’s waves, Keith notices they are facing each other with their hands tightly grasped together. Keith isn’t sure how they got into this position but what he is sure of though is that he’s never wanted to kiss Lance more than in this very moment.

“Keith…” Lance suddenly interrupts the peacefulness with a whisper, his eyelids seeming to grow heavy the longer he stares at Keith. Keith is momentarily shocked into silence when Lance uses his name instead of ‘Mullet’ but quickly recovers when he notices Lance slowly getting closer to him.

“Yes?” he whispers back, his voice refusing to get any louder in fear of shattering the dream-like state that they’ve created within the last few minutes.

Instead of verbally replying, Lance leans forward until their noses bump together and their breaths begin to mingle. Keith can taste the spearmint gum that Lance got from the pitstop on his breath, the smell becoming Keith’s favorite scent, second to Lance’s vanilla shampoo. Keith’s heart halts in his chest before going into overdrive when their lips finally touch, Keith’s breath stuttering. As their lips move against each other’s, Keith vaguely listens to the sound of the waves crashing and the seagulls squawking.

Keith is once again corrected. This is what heaven would be like.

Keith is knocked out of their blissful kiss when a bigger wave suddenly washes over their feet, causing water to spill down into his boots. He pulls away with an aggravated grunt, looking down at the saltwater that is now brimming his shoes. “Lance,” Keith growls despite the fact that it wasn’t necessarily Lance’s fault. Their dumb banter comes more naturally for them than anything else.

“What?” Lance crows with a look of indignation on his face, his arms letting Keith’s cheeks go to cross his arms over his chest. They fall into the usual repartee despite the fact that now their arms are wrapped tight around the other and refuse to let go. Well, that is until Keith goes ‘too far’ and makes Lance splash him with water. Keith glares at Lance like a murderous wet cat, his claws and fangs starting to show. Lance lets out a squeak before taking off down the coastline, his laughter deafening the sound of the waves that still lap at their feet.

Keith catches up to Lance with ease, seeing as how the tanned man isn’t actually trying to outrun his new lover. Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s waist and snatches him back, making Lance’s laughter cut off with a squeal. Keith spins him around which just ends up bringing Lance’s melodic laughter back.

Keith sets him back down and Lance immediately spins around to face Keith, setting their foreheads together. “We should go on another trip soon, Samurai,” he whispers before connecting their lips for another kiss.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLIST

More with Klance

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

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vannybarber · 3 years

Text

Know Your Place

Summary: Christopher Jamal Evans puts your ass in place.

Chris Jamal Evans x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, cursing, aggressive behavior (nothing serious), mentions of cheating, implied smut, degrading.

This is based off of Barbershop: The Next Cut with Terri, Rashad, and Draya, with their whole situation😂.

"Just get in the damn car and meet me at the house. We're not doing this here."

"Fine!" You rush around to your car door and slam it shut once you get inside. You watch Chris go to his, also slamming it shut but not for the same reason as you. You were more so the reason.

Starting the car and driving off with him right on your tail, you turn the music up to drown out the many cars that honk at your recklessness and poor wheel skills. If only they knew, they would be acting just like you.

You had come over to the building where Chris was shooting a movie with his female costar, Melanie. You absolutely despised her because she often came onto Chris. Both infront of you and when you weren't around. Of course he shot her down every time because he knows better. He knew you weren't the one to be played with.

But today, when you didn't see him as soon as you walked inside the shoot, you scan the room for Melanie. Not seeing her either, you began to roam around through the halls. You look in a room and see his stuff on a couch inside. You walk into the room calling his name.

"Chris? Baby, where you at?" You check in the bathroom and its empty. "Boy, I got your nasty seafood salad. Where the hell are you?" You scan the room one more time before smacking your lips and heading to the door.

Chris was in the closet changing when Melanie came in trying to feel up on him. He was getting ready to finally cuss her out, but he heard you yelling for him and so he freaked, shutting the door. He specifically told her not to make a sound and she followed orders, up until the last minute.

As you hit the threshold, you hear something hit the floor. The sound seemed to have come from the closet. You pause, scared at first because it was evident that no one was in the room except you. But then you grow suspicious because Chris and that bitch were both missing. You turn around slowly and stalk towards the door.

Chris was fuming when she knocked the box over, but then started to freak when he heard you walking over to the closet door. He gave her the look with a mix of panic and 'I'm gonna fucking kill you'. He sees the door handle turn and prepares for your wrath because you damn sure were gonna give it to him.

You open the door and there was your man and Melanie. Her hands were covering her mouth, eyes wide. Your eyes relocate to Chris and his shirt was halfway on his torso. He clambers to get it fully in, stepping towards you and away from her.

"Babe, just listen and you'll understand everything. She came in while I was changing and-" he doesn't get a chance to finish, for your voice overpowered his.

"You got five seconds to explain to me what the fuck you're doing." You hand is still on the door, not planning on letting them out the closet just yet. Chris was confused, but discerned that you weren't talking to him. You were talking to Melanie. He looks back at her and she was now biting her nail, clearly anxious.

"Look, Y/N, I really don't want any problems." She is trying to be straight about it, but her voice is fastened with fear. She knew exactly what you were capable of and she still is trying to bullshit you.

"You don't want want no problems? You've been trying to sleep with my man since the first day you found out you were working with him!" You must look like boo boo the fool for her to think she was pulling this shit on you.

"And as for you Christopher," you turn towards him, jabbing your finger in his chest, "what the hell are you thinking? Are y'all just lying to me and actually messing around?" You had no problem whooping both their asses.

"Y/N no! Listen, she came inside the closet while I was changing and I was going to kick her out, but I heard you coming and I just...freaked out." He's trying to dissolve the situation, but is only making it worse.

"You instead of coming out, you decide to stay in there with her? You see how this is worse right? You're just giving her the benefit to think she could even get with you. This is entertainment for her. Don't you realize that?" Now your hand was off the door and balled into a fist because you were 2.5 seconds from losing it.

"Baby, I was going to put my foot down this time. I know its long overdue, but I didn't want any issues with the people I work with. And I should've realized how unfair that was to you. I'm sorry. But don't think I would ever cheat on you." He grabs your arm and pushes you back so he could get out the closet.

"Yeah, you damn right. All this could've been avoided. She's harassing you. You need to report her ass!" You snag your arm away from him and point back at her, who's now trying to ease out of the closet. You catch her and she runs off, you not far behind. You damn sure were not a runner, but you were going super sonic right now.

She turns down she same way you came to find them and Chris is right on your ass too. You guys get to the front of the building and you lunge for her, but no contact was made for Chris had you in a hold. You brawl against his wide chest and eventually give up when he doesn't let go.

People are watching in absolute shock and some even were laughing their asses off. It would've been even funnier if Chris had let you get one hit in. Of course that didn't happen since he scooped you up with minimal effort.

"Y/N chill! Stop, you're making a fucking scene!" He grabs on your flailing arms, yanking them back.

"I don't give a shit! Let me get her. Just one good time," you plead and scream at the same time. He literally drags you away outside with great struggle since you weren't giving in. When he got you out there, you accepted your defeat and he let you go, watching you extra closely in case you pulled a fast one.

"You should've let me get her! Why the hell you stop me?!" He runs his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated and very much embarrassed. But you could care less. She needed her ass whooped.

"It's not worth it. We need to go now!"

"I don't have to go anywhere!" You could give less of a fuck if the onlookers labeled you as 'the angry black woman'. Because infact, you are a black woman. And damn right you were angry.

"Just get in the damn car and meet me at the house. We're not doing this here!"

"Fine!"

After reminiscing over the lovely previous moments, you pull up at your even lovelier home. You hop out the car and open the gate. Walking back to the car you peek and see Chris with his arm against the window, leaning on it and watching you. For sure he had a headache by now.

Instead of pulling up all the way into the driveway, you park at the end, leaving no room for Chris to drive in.

"Really? Pull all the way in!" You sit for a minute with your arms crossed for a bit of rebellion before complying like a child. Only because you didn't want to walk the extra way to the door of course. When you park again, Chris pulls in and gets out to shut the gate.

You were already unlocking the door and stepping in, but before you could slam it in his face, he was right behind you. You toss the keys and kick off your shoes.

"Where are you going?" You hear him call from the front of the house.

"None of your business." You were just going to the fridge to get your pineapple juice. You drink it almost every single day. And you definitely needed some right now.

"Okay we need to discuss what the fuck just happened. What the hell was that Y/N?" He's standing across the kitchen island from you staring in anger.

"Well for one, I caught you in a closet half naked with that bitch after I called your name repeatedly. Then she's playing in my face and you're trying to defend her! You really need an explanation for my actions, Chris?" You close the bottle and slam it on the counter.

"Look Y/N, I explained to you what happened. I am sorry. I knew that if I had came out that closet with her, you'd still react the same way, probably even worse. I was literally fearing for my life, no joke." He puts his hands up in surrender. You almost laugh.

"I rather you just have came out and told me straight up. Yeah, I would be mad of course. Who wouldn't? But you made it more difficult yourself." You still have an attitude and even though he apologized, you still wanted to be mad.

"Baby, I tell you you're beautiful everyday. Why? Because I want you to know that no other woman could ever be at the level you are for me. I want you to know that you're the only one I see and there isn't anyone else for me." He's now standing infront of you, his 6'0 figure imposing over your frame.

You can't and won't lie that those words had you in your feels. You swear, Geminis really are sweet talkers. You could've gave in right then. But not just yet.

"You sound like a real bitch right now." You fold your arms and look at him with testy eyes. You slightly regret saying that because what he said was genuine. But who are you without some back talk?

His eyes go caliginous. You've only seen this a one time when you've stepped out of line with him. Your big mouth could argue for days, but you never held a grudge. You kind of forced yourself to keep going as if you were still upset. Stubborn was an understatement.

You scratch your straightened hair nervously before flattening it back down. You internally hope it wasn't obvious that you lamented what you had just said.

"I already apologized to you and explained what happened. Now you can be mature and we can have a real conversation or you can be childish and act like you're still upset and we can end it right here." He steps closer to you, if that's even humanly possible. "But this is will be the first and last time you call me a bitch. Got it?"

He's breathing heavily on your face. If only you could see your face right now. It would read shock, with a bit of fear. He never checked you like this and let you get away with a lot. But this right here, was well deserved. But the way he's over you and his voice lowering with a sharp tone had you...turned on.

Something about him putting you in place made you wet and excited. All the fear had vanished almost immediately. You finally respond.

"Yes," you say quietly, nodding your head. "I'm sorry." Your eyes remained on him looking up through your lashes nibbling your lip. If only you knew what it was doing to him.

The sight of your body go automatically submissive to him after he got firm with you threw him in a complete frenzy. He was dominant most times, but you had many moments where you didn't back down to a challenge and took the lead. You not clapping back and apologizing threw him off a slight bit, but did not disappoint him. It turned him on.

"Good girl." He grabs your arm, spins you around so that your back is turned to him and bends down next to your ear.

"Go into the room, take off everything but your panties and lie on the bed. Mkay?" He moved his hands behind your arm to your lower back. You might as well save yourself the embarrassment and take off your panties too because once he sees the tropical storm, it's a wrap burrito. But you nod your head in compliance.

He gives you a smack on the butt and pushes you forward. You walk the rest of the way to the room and follow his exact orders. You remove every clothing item except the saltwater cloth covering your most needy part. You lay on the bed and wait for him.

He comes in a few moments later and eyes you down, making sure you followed his instructions. Of course you would. He stands in front of the bed and starts to remove his clothes. The entire time his eyes alternate from your body to your eyes. It made you nervous, but still excited.

"I'm very much used to your little tantrums and what not, but there's a limit. And when you pass that limit and step out of line, you need to be taught a lesson." He's in just his briefs by the end of his sentence and crawls in the bed.

You adjust yourself onto your back, shamelessly welcoming him to help himself to you. He positions in between your legs and lowers his face to yours, lips gliding against yours and pulling back when you try to kiss him. You pout and he smirks a little.

"Tell me what you want, honey" he whispers as he rubs up your leg to your thigh, grazing his fingers against your soaked panties. Just when you thought you couldn't get any wetter. Damn.

"I want you to touch me. Please." Your hands are gripping the sheets just thinking about his hands on your body. You completely forgot about messing up your hair as you throw your head back when he starts circling his fingers on your clit.

"I'm starting to think that this isn't very punishing for you, sweetheart." He picks up pace and reaches for your boob, kneading it full in his palms. "You seem to really be enjoying it. A little too much."

You weren't even listening to him, only chasing your orgasm, rolling your hips against his forceful touch. You successfully make it a few seconds to cumming before he snatches his finger away. You pick your head up right away, looking appalled.

"Why'd you stoooop?" you whine out. He looks at you innocently.

"Hmm that's just something us bitches like to do." Before you could respond, he flips you over and smacks your right cheek. "These have been on way too long." He pulls your panties off quicker than Pietro Maximoff. Tossing them to the floor, he starts his teasing.

"Damn, Y/N. All this is for me? If this doesn't tell me you loved the beginning of your lesson, I don't know what does."

He drags his fingers through your wet lips, coating them with your wetness. He brings his hands to his face to taste the mess you made for him.

"Hmm. That pineapple juice is kicking in fast."

The entire time he's talking, you're moving around coding him to stop teasing you and do something to make you feel good.

"You really are a desperate whore, huh?" You moan in the sheets in agreement. You were never into name calling, but it was something with Chris that made you love it.

He lowers down to your pussy, breathe frisking over it. You shiver and wait for him to start.

"As much as both you and I would love this, you don't deserve it. So ass up." You internally start cursing him out, calling him all things forbidden. But you comply and slightly lift your lower half.

Chris gets directly behind you and lines up with your entrance. When did he even take his briefs off? You inhale sharply at the contact and moan as he slips inside you with little to no effort. He fills you quick, starting his thrusts right away.

Your left cheek is against the mattress and both hands are gripping the sheets.

"Oh my- fuck!"

"How's it feel baby?" He asks you, going deeper at every thrust back inside you. Between the loud claps of your bodies, your pornographic moans and the sounds of your WAP, he knew the answer.

"It feels so good Chris" you manage to get out between breathes that were suddenly hard to take. You suddenly get a hard slap on your right cheek, making you squeal.

"That's not my name." You quickly correct yourself.

"Sorry..Daddy."

"Look at this" he starts thrusting faster, both of you not far from climax.

"Just an hour ago you were bitchin' about me and now you're basically grovelling at my feet. You can barely make a word. I guess I'm not such a bitch now, huh? " He locks your arms behind you and you automatically lift your ass up further, helping him slide in you even easier.

"No Daddy, I'm s-sorry." He groans and grabs a fistful of your hair and leans down to your ear. Normally you would be pissed because he touched your hair, especially since it was just done. But you could give less of a damn right now.

"Yeah I bet you are. Would a bitch be fucking you like this? Hm?" He pounded into you hard at every word. Your face in the mattress, you let out a scream that would have the neighbors dialing 911.

"No, baby- oh GOD" you yell, right at your peak. Just a couple more thrusts away and you were gone. Chris recognized that yell. He wanted to send you off right.

"Go ahead and cum for me baby. But just remember,"

He was right behind you and close himself.

"No matter how smart you get with me, at the end of the day, you're always gonna be a little slut for me." The last 4 words sent you over the edge and you cum all over him. He doesn't fall short and fills up the rest of you.

"Fuuuck" he let's out as his seed spills inside you.

His body collapses next to you and you find the energy to move your body. You turn and look at him with this dumb smile on your face. He reciprocates with the same dumb smile and pats down your hair. You slap his arm, turning your nose up at him.

"Ow. Why'd you do that for?" He rubs his now red arm.

"That's what you get for messing up my hair. You're gonna give me money to get it done again." Remembering, you hit his arm again.

"Baby, what the hell?"

"That's for also making me leave my pineapple juice out the fridge."

Idek what I was doing here 😭 This is the kind of stuff I daydream about, but it never looks as good written out 🥴

masterlist

#cevans #chris evans #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #captain america #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #black reader #christopher jamal evans

870 notes · View notes

peaches-writes · 3 years

Text

penalty kick

description: maybe you got off on the wrong foot...actually, jisung did actually pushed you off the wrong foot. member: jisung / han genre: fluff, slice of life, coming of age, childhood frenemies / rivals to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, neighbor au, high school au, college au, lil dashes of soccer baseball musician & campus dj au bc jisung ace, female reader, off-season universe (mc from naturally is jeoyeon, mc from tumbles & turns is bora, and mc from off-season is kira hek) word count: 12k warnings: explicit language, alcohol (a tiny mention of underage drinking pls drink responsibly!), mentions of injuries, jisung issa lil dumb & a lil shit but issokay hes an adorable lil shit note: @crscendoforsung so i scraped the witch jisung au (but i’ll come back to it in the future maybe it’s still in my drafts lol) so here is dumbass jisung for now + im away on christmas day so here’s my gift a day in advanced lmao

Age four. Your neighbor and favorite playmate, Han Jisung, pushed you so hard on the swings at your neighbourhood playground that you literally flew out of your plastic curved seat and bruised your knees, elbows, and chin.

Maybe you did had it coming from continuously complaining that he ‘pushed like a sissy’ and even standing up on the swing set just to brag that you can balance all of your body weight on such flimsy material. Maybe your neighbor has always had a secret grudge on you finally enacted through this incident. Either way, the next thing you knew, a wide-eyed Jisung was on your side alternating between calling for adult help, crying over your bruises, and muttering curses he probably heard from his older brother under his breath.

“Shit, shit shit...” He squeaked out frantically in his tiny voice, gently moving you to a sitting position on the stone pavement and dusting the dirt off of your bleeding injuries despite your loud complaints that your entire body was hurting. Looking around your surroundings, his breath then got caught up in his throat at seeing your mother fast-approaching with a mix of furious and worried in her expression. “Auntie! Help!”

Your mother was hovering over you in an instant, examining your bruises with furrowed brows and clenched teeth. “Ah, dear God, what happened here?!” She exclaimed in a scolding tone, piercing gaze darting between your tearful eyes and Jisung’s panicked ones. “Jisung, did you do this?”

“It was an accident auntie!” The boy in question answered immediately as he shook his head nervously and scooted away with his hands up in defense. “It was an accident, I promise!”

However, with your back turned to him then, you naturally had a different impression of the incident as you quickly retorted, “He pushed me, mommy! He pushed me off of the swing!”

Your mother never made any clear indication that she believed you as she simply shook your head and lifted you by your shoulders and knees, carrying you to a nearby bench to treat your wounds.

Angered by your outburst, Jisung reluctantly followed you and your mother to the bench then glared at you until your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. With his arms crossed and a permanent frown bordering a pout on his lips, he stood next to you in his attempt at looking visibly angry for a puny five-year-old while you hissed and whined in pain the entire time.

What’s worse is that his own mother made him apologize by sending him off to the nearest convenience store to buy you apple juice and steamed buns. Because of this, you’ve been mortal enemies, rivals, each other’s designated future potential killer, whatever you want to call it ever since.

Age seven. Han Jisung helped perpetuate a wild rumour that you and the rest of the class’ female population had ‘cooties.’

It’s only natural for boys at this age to gravitate to similar actions, of course. After all, you’ve heard worse from boys in the other classes (read: Hwang Hyunjin crying and demanding to get sent home because a girl kissed him on the cheek on the first day of classes). It’s the fact that Jisung actually seemed to have to believed it for a brief period of time in your first grade, however, that completely threw you off.

He pulled on your braids during the time he sat behind you and kicked your shins while in line for P.E. class to ‘test your anger patience’ that was apparently fueled by cooties and occasionally stole your snacks for actual ‘DNA evidence’ of said cooties among other petty little things. It was nothing short of annoying and the very bane of your existence then.

“Han Jisung cut it out!” You yelled at him one day, hitting him on the shoulder with the curved end of your wooden broom during after-class cleaning time. In this particular incident, the boy managed to swiftly take one of your pigtails out while wiping the windows in an attempt to ‘examine’ the DNA in your hair.

“What?!” He snickered, taking a big step away from you and lifting up the blue scrunchie to examine it for miniscule strands of loose hair. “It’s for research!”

You groaned in annoyance, reaching forward to retrieve the scrunchie with one hand while the other instinctively ran through the messed up half of your hair. “Jisung, give it back, you weirdo!” You scolded through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes when he shakes his head stubbornly and takes another step back from your reach.

“Tell me the secret first!”

“Secret of what?!”

“Do you girls actually have cooties?” He quirked a genuinely suspicious eyebrow at you, raising the scrunchie above your heads after when you proceed lunge forward at him. “Does it actually make you guys this irritable all the time?”

Somehow, the questions struck some kind of nerve in you. You were tired from classes, cleaning, and having to put up with Jisung’s childish antics. Maybe 1st grade girls did have cooties but for tapping into unbridled anger. “I’m going to kill you!” With the broom in your hands and the dust pan you snatched from his in retaliation, you then proceeded on repeatedly hitting Jisung in the forearms and shoulders until he surrendered with his arms protectively over his head and your scrunchie finally within reach.

He also offered to fix your pigtail back for you but given the amount of distrust you already had for him, you simply smacked him one last time and went to the other end of the room to fix your hair.

Age nine. Maturing a little bit through summer camps and classes, you and Jisung redirected all of your energy from physical violence to outsmarting each other in class.

It started in English class when Mrs. Lee introduced the idea of recitations garnering students points and a fancy award at the end of the school year. Coming from the same piano class in the summer prior wherein you and Jisung also competed for your instructor’s attention, the two of you were quick to consider this as another one of your competitions.

You devoted most of your time to studying the lesson from the what’s, who’s, when’s, and where’s while Jisung thought that focusing more on the deeper why’s and how’s would somehow garner him better points no matter how many times Mrs. Lee reiterated that all recitation points are given in 1 point’s.

As the school year progressed, especially after the first semester report cards came out and the two of you were tied to first place in English to the very third decimal, the academic rivalry immediately extended to competing for the most amount of extra-curricular activities. You were more favored with the way you handled baby animals at the local shelter and competed in debates and quiz bees while Jisung was mainly noticed by the soccer and baseball coaches and the school choir’s moderator for his skills in sports and music.

Jisung’s mom, who always picked the two of you up from school in her minivan, obliviously thought it was cute.

“You know, instead of competing over everything all the time, you guys can take some notes from each other.” She pointed out one time after hearing your comment on Jisung ‘smelling like a polluted Pacific Ocean’ as he climbed in the backseat of the car. The sentiment almost went in one ear and came out of the other with the two of you, however, as Jisung proceeded on complaining that you smelled like ‘Cruella de Vil’s fake fur coat’ then hitting you on the head with his soccer ball. “Especially you, Sungie. You can learn a thing or two of keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week from Y/N.”

You laughed at Jisung’s immediate shocked reaction of wide eyes and gaping mouth at this, slapping his arm in amusement and toppling over the backseat in laughter. “Yeah, Sungie, you really need help from that department.” You stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, laughing even more when he groans and hits you back with a light punch to your own arm.

“Stop it.” He hissed at you before turning to his mother again, meeting her gaze through the rear view mirror. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Mrs. Han was also stifling her own laughs then, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead instead of checking for her son’s pouting expression and crossed arms through the mirror. “Okay, okay.” She chuckled playfully with a dismissive hand, catching your eye after with a giggle. “Y/N, you should learn how to commit to exercise more with Jisung, then. There? Happy?”

Satisfied, Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at you as if completely forgetting the fact that he was attacked by his own mother first. “Bleh!”

You rolled your eyes at him with a light-hearted scoff of your own, laughing away the way he proceeded to exaggeratedly tease you. “You’re so childish, Sung.”

When your moms did seriously consider this idea later on, you were then forced to dedicated one weekend to taking each other to your respective extra-curricular activities. It was right before your final examinations and Jisung ended up getting scared over a golden retriever giving birth while you received severe cramps from the elementary soccer team’s rigorous conditioning training.

It was a recipe of disaster, basically, and it ultimately led you and Jisung to cram knowledge for your exams on Sunday night in his bedroom. When you stubbornly didn’t learn anything from going to each other’s favorite extra-curriculars, you unconsciously ended up learning from each other in the six hours you both stayed up trying to review your notes. Miraculously (as in the miracle of hot brewed Milo-induced sugar rushes), it went well and the two of you tied or were close in grades at the second release of report cards.

The only downside of it all was just the fact that the fancy recitation award in your English class that started it all somehow went to Hyunjin.

“Ah, this is so frustrating!” You exclaimed on the ride home from school. You had your report card in your hands like Jisung, looking back on it all the while stressing out about Hyunjin winning the award the two of you spent a whole school year competing for.

On the other side of his mom’s backseats, Jisung then turned to you and suggested, “Want to prank him? We’re playing soccer next week, you can swap his Cola for soy sauce.”

You glanced over at Jisung, your pout slowly turning into a mischievous grin at his raised brows. “You’re onto something...”

Age ten. You went on your first class field trip with a stuffed purple lunch bag of snacks.

Your mother specifically suggested that you share it with Jisung, thinking that the two of you would sit next to each other on the bus since he’s your only classmate she’s actually familiar with. But of course, when Jisung didn’t bring up any hints that he knew of this while waiting for the school bus to arrive, you immediately thought against it and planned out how you were going to hide your seemingly endless supply of snacks from him on the back-and-forth rides to Namsan Tower.

It was a well thought-out plan involving sitting near to the front and as far away from him as possible with your own group of friends then hiding the lunch bag under your seat until you caught Hyunjin not-so-discreetly trying to steal from you while he re-checked attendance after a stop-over.

“Jisung put you up to this, didn’t he?” You frowned, candy successfully retrieved from Hyunjin’s prying hands and popped into your mouth as the lanky boy scratched the back of his head in shame. “It’s okay, Hyunjin, I won’t kill you. It’s Jisung’s corpse I’m planning to roll down Namsan if he’s actually behind this.”

After a few more coaxing, Hyunjin eventually nodded sheepishly and admitted to Jisung convincing him to take a candy bar from you.

“Ya! Hyunjin!” Jisung whined from across the bus, peeking his head up from the identical red seats with balled up fists. “I told you not to rat me out!”

“Y/N was being scary!” Hyunjin argues back, sprinting back to his seat as soon as the the bus stopped at a streetlight. Hiding under the sea of seats, he then exclaimed, “You two take me out of your fights! Geez!”

Jisung pouted at you as soon as you lifted your own head up from your seat and turned around to face him, holding his hands out in front of him and then asking, “Can’t I really have candy?”

You shook your head stubbornly. “If I give you one, everyone’s going to ask me for it too.”

“But everyone’s basically asleep!”

“They could be fake-sleeping for all I know!” You hissed, popping another ball of candy in your mouth. “I don’t trust anyone in this class with food but myself.”

“Y/N!” He whined, only to get pulled down by force when the bus abruptly begins moving again. Scrambling up right after, he then continued pleading, “Please?”

“No.” You firmly concluded, sitting back down on your seat.

Jisung even tried staying behind to try and steal candy off of you while the entire class was piling outside to enter Namsan Tower, only to trip in surprise when you jumped on him from crouching under the seats. Poor boy almost hit his head on the seats in shock.

“I knew you’d pull this kind of shit.” You tsked in disapproval with a slight stutter towards cursing at such an age, smacking him over the head anyway before throwing the smallest piece of chocolate candy you had from your bag. Moving past him to the bus exit, you then added, “You don’t even do nice things for me.”

You only meant it half-heartedly, though. Whether Jisung actually wanted more candy or he did sincerely felt bad over what you said, either way, he paid for the expensive pink lock you and your friend wanted to hang at the very top of the tower later on but only if you promised to share your snacks.

Jisung received three packets of gummy bears and a bottle of banana milk from you in the end on the ride home.

Age twelve. The Hans temporarily moved to Malaysia in the summer before the seventh grade because of an assignment for Jisung’s father at work.

On the day before their flight, Mr. and Mrs. Han organized a farewell party in their house at the other end of the block and invited your entire class. Jisung tricked you into getting him a farewell present by telling you that everyone was planning to do the same thing as a surprise but he secretly found out thing.

He didn’t actually expect you to get him something, not with the way the two of you have always been at each other’s necks since you were kids, but you ended up surprising him in the middle of the lunch party by giving him a small notebook of useful Malaysian phrases you wrote down yourself. You don’t always agree with Jisung but you think of yourself as thoughtful and civil enough to buy something practical. Also, your parents insisted.

“O-Oh, you actually got me something?” He fumbled through an intense blush that matched the redness of his Supreme cap, almost tripping over nothing as you both stood on the steps leading down to the back of his house. It didn’t help that a few classmate passersby were glancing your way as well, either cooing or snickering at the awkward sight in the corner of all the socialization. “L-Like—like, this is actually for me?”

You raised a brow in confusion and reluctantly shrugged, releasing the red phrasebook from your grip as he held onto it by the other end. “Yeah, you said you’re getting presents so I...got you one.”

“I actually lied—“

“What?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly for your taste, earning you a sharp glare from your mother all the way across the backyard. Mouthing a quick apology to your her, you then quickly averted your glare back to Jisung who instinctively resorted to looking at anywhere but you. “But you said—“

“I thought for sure that no one would give me any farewell presents since it’s not a birthday or anything but I know you would if you’re like forced to or something so I thought...hehe...” He mustered up a sheepish grin, pressing his index fingers together in a comical shy gesture. When your glare intensifies, he then immediately held his hands up in defense and visibly winced, “Ya, don’t hit me!”

Every fiber in your being really wanted to hit him with the notebook then, maybe even push him down the stairs while no one was looking, but after a moment of thinking your way out of such violent thoughts, you resorted to exhaling a sigh and saying, “Whatever, just keep the notebook or something. I don’t care. It’s not expensive, anyway.”

You chanted to yourself that you’re mature, especially as Jisung’s eyes lit up and he immediately thanked you for both the gift and sparing his life that day.

Though he didn’t hear the end of the other teasing from Hyunjin after that, Jisung kept the notebook around anyway throughout his entire two-year stay in Malaysia. It was helpful but he’ll never admit that to your face.

“You kept it.” You pointed out one day, more as a statement than a question as you realized that the notebook he was using for exam reviewer notes was in the same color as the phrasebook you gave him. When Jisung came back in the summer before the ninth grade, the two of you met again in the same cram school wherein mostly everyone but you and the transfer student, Kim Seungmin, refused to help him keep up with the heavier than usual workload. “The phrasebook...”

“Yeah—well, I didn’t want to waste any of the pages you didn’t write on.” He pouted stubbornly as he flipped through the older pages to compare the amount of pages you used to the empty sheets. His tone actually sounded like he was convincing himself much more than he was trying with you but you missed it complete in the moment. “Be more eco-friendly, Y/N.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him. “Glad to know I kept you alive in another country somehow, then.”

Age fourteen. You went to a soccer game to see Jisung but only because one of your friends, Eunha, developed a crush on the striker and eventually hatched a plan to confess on the game before Valentine’s Day. Fortunately, Jisung barely noticed and didn’t tease you for it since it’s already an established fact that you’re always at his games with either Yang Jeongin or Seungmin to cheer on Hyunjin instead.

You really didn’t get it. Of course, fifteen was the time when some, if not all, parts of your day were starting to become dedicated to vanity and all the artificial things in life to attract kind of puppy love in school but at this point Jisung always wore the same green hoodie, red Supreme cap, and white ‘Eyez on You’ shirt to every school function that didn’t require wearing a uniform.

You understood how your classmates suddenly began fawning over Hyunjin right after the summer when he got his braces removed and then Seungmin for bringing a suit and tie one time for an inter-school debate but the hype over Jisung suddenly bringing in his guitar to class breaks everyday and re-emerging as a star soccer and baseball player throughout the school year is an absolute mystery to you. That or, maybe compared to your junior high peers, you’re just as used to him at this point than they all are. In your perspective, the only legitimate thing he has going on is how he always seems to beat you in most Arts subjects and how annoying it is that he always makes sure to rub that in your face.

“I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t shower properly right after training.” You shook your head disapprovingly at Eunha during the game. Soccer is an interesting sport for surprisingly bringing you up to stand and cheer at some moments, you’ll give it that, but watching Jisung get cocky and interact to the crowd whenever his team scored a point was somehow cringe-worthy to watch. “And I’m so sure he still doesn’t clean that soccer ball of his right after practice. You deserve better, sis.”

But no matter how much you talked shit about him throughout the entire game, Eunha still held onto the box of handmade candies she coerced you into picking up from Jisung’s favorite candy shop on the weekend prior and cheering him on with the slogan she made herself. It would’ve looked cute and sweet to you if it was some other guy but it’s Jisung—the guy who pushed you off a swing, pulled your hair, stole candy from you, and made all of your elementary after-school rides home an actual rollercoaster—and you would never wish his treatment of you to any other person ever.

“You said that was in elementary, Y/N.” Eunha chuckled softly, nudging your elbow before a sour expression could completely overtake your face. “Surely he’s outgrown that girls have cooties phase every boy had then.”

“No, it’s Jisung and I refuse to believe it.”

You really didn’t want to believe it with your natural instinct to see Jisung as the bane of your existence. What’s worse is that Eunha was right and Jisung shyly accepted the Saturday movie date at the mall that she came up with on the spot when he surprisingly received the candies well, a complete stretch from the Jisung who would’ve lied about being busy or tricked your friend into doing something else altogether. Suddenly, it was selfishly annoying that you’re the only one he actually tortures the life out of.

“Told you.” Eunha giggled throughout the drive back to your house. Your mother picked you up from school right after the soccer game for a sleepover you insisted was a must whether or not your friend scored her Valentine’s Day date. “Ah, I’m glad he accepted. I was a nervous wreck there! You don’t happen to know what kind of movie he likes, do you?”

You never heard the end of it from her for the remainder of the semester. The two were never official—middle school just didn’t have that solid idea of significant others, then—but they did went on numerous ‘dates’ almost every weekend that followed Valentine’s Day. Naturally, Eunha would tell you all about it.

“He’s so sweet and caring and thoughtful!” The girl endlessly gushed out to you so genuinely you would’ve been happy had you not been sincerely expecting a major fuck-up from Jisung. Nothing romantic really did come out of these dates, even Jisung surprisingly swears by it, but they did become really close friends after and as Jisung’s only other female friend at the time, you can clearly see a point of comparison between his different treatment of you. “Though, I’m gonna give it to you that he is annoying sometimes but he does know a lot of good places to hang out around town for someone who’s been away for two years!”

“He does the bare minimum for everything, Eunha. I could barely call it sweet.” You scoffed unamused.

Age sixteen. In the summer after the tenth grade, an upperclassman from school by the name of Lee Minho started volunteering at the same local shelter you’ve been under since elementary after surrendering a lost cat to you while he and Jisung were playing baseball at the nearby park.

He adopted Dori in the end but prior to finalizing the adoption papers, he actually made the effort to come in at your MWF schedule to help around and see the dark grey kitten. To you, it was endearing and thoughtful since you didn’t have much active co-workers at the shelter your age but to Jisung, it was slightly inconveniencing how Minho would cut off their play-time to see the cat. He even thought Minho had a crush on you and vice versa but you knew that Minho liked one of his own closer friends.

“Jeoyeon?” Minho scoffed, crouching down next to you one time as you watched over the new litterbox of kittens eating with Dori on your feet. Crossing his arms over his knees, he shook his head and chuckled, “They’re cool and we’ve been friends for a long time but I’m sure they have a big fat crush on Bang Chan. Something happened after their McDonald’s date after our prom, I’m telling you!”

“No, not Jeoyeon! I meant Bora!” You argued back with a laugh, picking up a white kitten that wanders off to your feet and lifts its body up cutely for a lift. Gingerly pressing the kitten to your shoulder, you then turned to Minho and continued, “The one who came by the other day to see Dori with you. Aren’t you guys rooming together in college?”

Minho clutched his chest dramatically at this, shaking his head with a comical conviction. “What?! How could you accuse me of that, Y/N? Bora’s from a different cheerdance team! That would be like sleeping with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, knocking him off of his balance by elbowing his sides. “Ya, I didn’t say that, you did!” You scoffed at him, sighing when he laughs off landing on his butt before sitting up in a crisscross position. “Anyway, don’t you like her?”

“If I don’t like her, we wouldn’t be making all these plans to move in together for college, stupid.” Minho snickered, earning him another elbow jab from you. “Well, what do you want me to say? You asked me if I like her, you didn’t ask me how exactly I like her.”

"Okay then, you wise wise person: how do you like Bora?” You sighed dryly, plopping down on the ground at feeling your ankles starting to ache from crouching. The kitten on your arm then jumped down to your lap, circling your legs a few times before finding a comfortable position to sleep in. “You know, the more you visit here with this kind of sarcasm, the more I’m starting to understand where Seungmin and Jisung are suddenly getting all of their newfound sassiness from.”

Minho chuckled next to you, picking up Dori for himself once he saw him finish eating before hugging the kitten gently to his cheek. “Bora’s...someone I’d probably punch a guy in the team for if they ever disrespect her. I mean, I’d punch a guy for Dahyun, Jeoyeon, and Jihyo, too, of course, but Bora’s in the same sport where she’s always getting lifted in the air and touched by who knows who and now that we won’t be in the same team, I feel even more responsible for keeping an eye out for her.” He shrugged casually, ignoring the way your jaw just dropped at how naturally he explained himself. “Plus, it took a lot of convincing to get her to be my roommate so I can’t really have her dying under my care in the next four years.”

“I—” You furrowed your brows in thought, pursing your lips in a pout. “Wow, I’m jealous.”

“Then get on my good side, Y/N.” Minho winked with a laugh, holding Dori in front of you. “Let me take this baby home at the end of the summer.”

You rolled your eyes again at this, shaking your head. “No, I mean...I hang out with Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung and they aren’t really the most well-versed boys on treating girls properly.”

“That’s why you hang out with me. We all know that Hyunjin just can’t say no to anyone who offers him a slightly more expensive bouquet of flowers, Seungmin’s in a relationship with baseball and academics, and Jisung...Jisung’s just dumb in general.” Minho then pointed out with a somehow knowing tone, smirking when a familiar figure passes by the hallways right behind you. “Speaking of...”

Jisung joined you and Minho after, making sure to sit in between the two of you and drowning himself in as many kittens who wanted to sit on his lap as much as he can. “Dude, you shouldn’t have left early!” He scolded Minho with a pout and a slightly breathless tone from running all the way from the park. “Seungmin joined us today and he completely wiped out Sunwoo’s team!”

“Then even more reasons to come here early so you guys could play with Seungmin on your team.” Minho laughed, gently handing Dori over to you from across Jisung before standing up and dusting the lint off of his jeans. “Y/N needed help with feeding the cats and puppies today, anyway.”

Jisung frowned, turning to you after and asking, “Don’t you have any other co-workers around here?”

“Jeno has allergies so I don’t let him in here on most days.” You shrugged, handing Minho the empty pet bowls nearest to you as he proceeded to clean and collect them. “I can do it myself, you know. It’s just that Minho comes over and insists.”

“Then you should’ve just told him that so we can play longer.”

“Why is it a big deal? Do you like Minho?”

“Do you?” Jisung’s eyes widened, almost getting scratched by a random cat in the process. “Because...because that’d be gross, to be honest...”

At this moment, your eyes accidentally met Minho’s right behind Jisung and the older boy had the audacity to wink at you before sprinting out of the room with a thumbs up above his head.

In the end, you shrugged and answered, “I like him.”

“What?!” Jisung sat up so quickly he almost scared a bunch of kittens walking all over his chest into jumping away.

“I’d be a psychopath if I don’t like him but let him volunteer around here, dumbass.” You deadpanned, moving the kittens around him to a safer space on the floor. “Besides, you asked me if I like him, not how I like him.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Minho had a whole laugh out of eavesdropping from this conversation that he felt bad and actually adjusted his schedule for volunteering and playing soccer better so ‘Jisung would have one less thing to whine about all the time.’

Age seventeen. You and Jisung tried convincing your respective parents that going to prom as a group is the more practical and actually trendy thing to do but your mothers wouldn’t have it. Ultimately, the two of you ended up lying that you’re going as each other’s dates.

You initially planned on begging to Seungmin until he pulled up balloons, roses, and a song number to his lab partner right on the lunch break that you planned on doing it and, of course, you had enough dignity to not fall in line with the countless of students that basically worshipped Hyunjin’s locker as if it were a shrine.

Jisung, with Eunha already set on going with someone else she started dating at the beginning of the 11th grade school year, was the convenient choice. Your parents knew each other, he knows someone (his older brother) who can drive, and he’s recently gotten over his Emo-Hypebeast wardrobe phase after joining the school’s radio club with Chan and Changbin. With some convincing (read: an elaborate PowerPoint Presentation he made you do on the spot during one of your lunch breaks), the two of you decided that you would take all the photos your respective mothers wanted, carpool to the hotel, then go on your separate ways until his brother picks the two of you up at the end of the night.

It was a simple and fool-proof plan, one that you almost forgot when you rented an emerald green and gold prom attire then Jisung’s mother told you right after about hearing her son trying to order a purple callalily boutonniere that clearly did not match your taste nor your colors (you sorted this out by cancelling the order and taking matters into your own hands). Then, the most awkward photo op at your house happened.

“Sungie, put your arm around Y/N!”

“Y/N, stop slouching, you’re going to wrinkle your outfit!”

You were never serious-looking in any photos that had Jisung in it as well, preferring to pose like the two of you planned on murdering each other right after the photos instead, but your respective moms were holding your Instax camera and the family film cameras across the living room in this particular situation and so you reluctantly kept it inside. Straightening up your shoulders and elbowing Jisung to at least wrap an arm over your shoulder, you held up smiles right next to your red rose corsage and boutonniere set until the two women were eventually satisfied with their photos.

“Aah, you two really make a cute couple!”

“Mom, we’re not a couple!” Jisung whined, glaring at you after which you immediately returned with the same expression.

“God, I’d sell all my limbs first before we actually become a couple.” You deadpanned back at him.

Fortunately, Jisung’s older brother allowed the two of you to basically try and throw each other out of the car windows on the thirty-minute ride to the hotel venue in compensation. You almost had him by the neck and he almost ruined your hair that you spent hours curling until Hyunjin pulled you back with a smack to your head and dragged the two of you away to help in the Prom Committee’s final preparations since Jisung was going to perform with Changbin and you were a part of the Prom’s Logistics team.

You mostly stayed out of each other’s hairs for most of the first part of the program as you were busy pulling everything together while Jisung was having the time of his life with the soccer and basebal teams. The next time you bumped into each other, you scolded him for running late to his and Changbin’s set after dinner.

“Where were you?!” You mostly hit him in the back with your clipboard, frantically passing him his already set up electric guitar and a microphone. First, one of your peers got drunk too early in the dinner to help out in the program, then one of the event’s award sashes briefly went missing and, not to mention, a lot of the people from the other committees somehow forgot about their event tasks when you asked in the main groupchat. You really weren’t having anyone’s antics at this point. “Geez, we already practiced this!”

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Why are you so on edge?” Appropriately, he whined in complaint and took a step back after receiving his equipment, holding his hands up in defense as he always does. “Cut me some slack, Y/N! It’s prom!”

“You’re so late when your table is literally right next to the side of the stage!”

“I was dancing with everyone else! You wouldn’t know since you wouldn’t even take a break!”

“Because I’m busy!”

“No, you’re just being more irritable than usual!”

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.” You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, coldly directing him to the stage. “You’re on, get on the stage.”

You knew he didn’t mean it cruelly, especially when his pupils started to shake and his shoulders instinctively slumped as he glanced back at you right before reluctantly stepping up the star-filled stage, but you were too tired of having to run around and making the event perfect for most of the night to process anything, much less his usual jabs at you. Being in such a tired headspace, you couldn’t enjoy his songs no matter how undeniably great they were, much less meet his eyes when you knew how he kept glancing at you throughout the entire set.

He even covered your favorite song on the spot (which surprised Changbin and had Hyunjin running around backstage to inform everyone of the sudden extension) but you already sat down on your shared table with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Eunha, and their dates before he could even begin singing the chorus.

“Hey, you good?” Minjung, Eunha’s date, asked you with an offering of an extra shawl to cover your exposed shoulders from the nearby air-conditioning unit. Eunha had previously left to go to the bathroom after stopping by your shared table. “Y/N, I told you if you needed extra help with the program, you could’ve just told us. We just planned on dancing tonight, anyway.”

“I’m good.” You grumbled in a half-lie, resting your chin on your propped up hand tiredly, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ for the shawl as you fought away your tiredness. “I think I’ll just sit the rest of Prom out. Hyunjin can run the program on his own.”

Minjung frowned, sitting down next to you and fixing the loose strands on the haphazard ponytail you managed to pull up in the middle of the program. “Are you sure? Eunha and I can stay with you until you’re feeling better. Besides, the program’s still long, you deserve to enjoy your hard work later at least.”

Stubbornly, you simply scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “I think I’ve had enough of prom for one night. You should go and dance more, though. I’m okay as long as you guys are having fun.”

But equally as headstrong as you are, Minjung got Eunha in on convincing you to agreeing to one dance with them as soon as she came back from the bathroom, reasoning out that, “We can stay in the back and just dance silly! It’s prom!”

The pair proved themselves to be unstoppable in their joint persuasiveness when they got you to stand up and actually join them at the next set, right as Jisung was about to approach you to apologize. The poor boy ended up waiting the entire night until the two of you were alone instead, shivering right next to each other at the lobby while waiting for his brother to pick you two up.

“Why did you even pick out something off-shoulder? I get that it’s trendy these days but you picked the venue knowing it’s cold and didn’t even connect a few dots there.” He hissed lowly, contemplating on teasing you further or keeping it quiet until he can muster up a ‘sorry’ to you. Shrugging off his jacket, he then gently draped it over your shoulder and added, “Don’t catch a cold or something...your mom’s going to kill me.”

“Shut up.” You hissed back, crossing your arms further in over your chest as you spotted his brother’s car approaching the lobby’s driveway. You didn’t remove his coat from your back, though, clutching it tightly instead while convincing yourself that he willingly gave it to you so there’s no reason for you to throw it back at him when you really needed it. “ You don’t even do nice things for me.”

The familiar words visibly caught him off-guard, almost foiling his plan of opening the door for you as he freezes in his steps but he regains composure in time and almost trips ahead to swat your hand away from the car’s door handle. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled in the awkward silence, gulping down his fears of your death glare as he briefly averted his gaze away from you. With this, he missed the way your gaze softened. “There’s candies in the pockets.”

And there was, coincidentally enough the same brand he tried stealing from you on your school field trip.

“These aren’t expired, right?” You chuckled, popping a chocolate in your mouth anyway.

That was enough for Jisung to relax his shoulders and laugh along. “No, promise.” He held a hand up as if he was swearing by his words, easing you into another fit of laughs. “I ran all the way to the convenience store down the block to get you those tonight! I felt really bad...I didn’t mean it.”

He could be sweet if he wanted, you’d give him that.

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered to him at the end of the night, right after scoffing at him for insisting to walk you all the way to your doorstep of course. “I was so stressed with managing everything that I took it out on you.”

Standing awkwardly with you right in front of your house’s front door, the sheepish boy rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “Nah, I think I deserve it. I do annoy you a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled, eyes trained to the ground. “I didn’t even ask you to one dance.”

“Not like you actually had to, we’re no—”

“But you were still technically my date and I don’t want to be a bad prom date, even to you!” He insisted anyway, only then looking up at you. “I’ll make it up to you in the distant future, okay? Reserve me your next dance in the distant future, no matter where it is!”

Before you could even retort, he was already running back to his brother’s car.

Age eighteen and a half. Jisung began dating a girl named Haneul whom he met in one of his general classes and didn’t have one single clue about baseball or soccer. Naturally, his entire friend group was concerned.

Though you’re much civil friends now, you still didn’t really care. Or maybe you didn’t want to out of spite (or a really really weird and displaced feeling of jealousy?), you weren’t sure. You just thought that Jisung can do whatever he wants even when it’s something that’s generally not advisable when you’re a freshman in college, but it seemed as if it was all Jeongin talked to you about whenever the two of you met up to study for one of your shared classes so naturally you forced yourself to take in all of the gossip. What’s worse is that Hyunjin would come over often to loiter around the library and gawk at the cute student librarian, ultimately encouraging the younger boy to talk about it more.

“You’re being unfair to her.” You always reminded the two, sometimes Seungmin when he would sit quietly in the middle of the topic and say nothing to defend Haneul. In this particular time, Jeongin took you to watch the baseball team’s Wednesday scrimmage after hours of studying your nursing notes together at the nearby library. “Like, look, I don’t even do any sports myself but you guys hang out with me.”

“But you’re different, you’re not dating any one of us.” Hyunjin snickered, hugging his helmet to his chest as he sat a step below you on the bleaches. When a thought then crossed his mind, he dramatically gasped over his gloves and added, “Wait, does that mean you have a crush on someone? Is it me?”

You smacked him in the head with your hand, rolling your eyes after. “You know what I mean.”

Next to you, Jeongin mustered up a shrug as he tried getting an injured Kira to sit back down on her seat. Your stubborn best friend, after playing at an underground derby game on the weekend prior, kept on moving around because sitting down with her injuries made her uncomfortable. “But at least you make an effort for us even if it’s just small.” He reasoned out, huffing tiredly when Kira finally sits down and promises not to move for the next five minutes. You would’ve helped him but personally you thought he deserved to suffer alone after letting her go out despite her injuries today. “Haneul got dragged by Jisung to watch last week’s scrimmage and didn’t even last a set. She just left in the middle of the game—literally!”

“He made Jisung skip on my derby game to too!” Kira pouted, waving her bandaged hands frantically in the air. “I’m personally offended, Y/N!”

“And she doesn’t seem to like talking to us in general.” Hyunjin shrugged in conclusion. “Like, sports aside, she’s a bit rude and nonchalant when she talks to us in general especially when Sung isn’t around. It’s a bit sus to me.”

“To be fair, Kira, I wouldn’t be going too if you and Yeji aren’t so insistent on it. It’s so worrying seeing the two of you get hurt.” You pointed out before averting your attention to Jeongin once more. “And Jeongin, you know the only reason I can’t leave baseball and soccer games these days is because you and Seungmin are usually my ride home.” You scoffed. “If I could, I’d be hanging out with Felix more and only going to Kira’s games. Ya, why is he even allowed to skip games and I’m not, anyway?”

“Because he’s taking classes and training with the cheerdance squad until 8 PM and as far as I’m concerned, you’re free after 12 noon like me!” Jeongin simply grinned at you, earning himself a glare. “Also, I need you here with me as the medic team. You know I’ll panic alone!”

Fortunately, no one ever actually gets injured at any of the games regardless if they were formal or not. By the time the game has finished, you were reminding Kira to rest more at her dorms and sprinting out of the baseball field to the samgyeopsal place the team promised to treating dinner at. You completely missed the boys’ conversation on Haneul in the process but you did get free food.

You really didn’t get it. The one time you met Haneul by chance, when you and Felix bumped into the two at the mall near the supermarket, she seemed a bit distant but she could be polite when she wanted to. Of course, it rubbed you the wrong way but you and Felix thought that it was none of your business anyway, given that neither of you are dating her.

“When the guys walked me out of the baseball field last Wednesday, they did mention something about Jisung aiming for the soccer national team but who knows if they’re exaggerating again or something.” Kira confided in you later that week when the two of you met up over lunch. “Either way, I’d understand. If I were in Jisung’s shoes, I’d feel a little disheartened if someone I really like doesn’t appreciate the things I’m passionate about!”

Still, you simply let your friends sort it out for themselves. “Jisung’s a grown-up, he can figure things out on his own at the end of the day.” You reasoned out.

Age eighteen and three-fourths. Jisung asked—practically begged—you to go to the movies with him because he and Haneul broke up the week before his birthday after opening up his worries to her. The other ticket was meant to be a surprise for his ex-girlfriend.

From what Jeongin and Felix have gossiped to you on two separate occasions, Haneul apparently didn’t like you and the rest of Jisung’s immediate friend group no matter how many times the boys tried warming up to her and getting to know her over the summer. She didn’t really support Jisung’s passion for sports, too, and mostly just stuck around for the ‘clout of it all’ or however Felix worded it to you.

“I’d ask Hyunjin but he has a date with that librarian!” Jisung frowned over the phone on the night before the scheduled screening of Weathering with You. Reminiscent of a similar time long ago, he sounded more like he was convincing himself than you. “And Seungmin’s taking care of Kira, Minho and Felix are training, Changbin’s doing God knows what with his finals, Chan has swim training and—and yeah, you know where I’m going with this!”

You sighed, rolling over on your back in your bed after submitting your online work. “You can ask the baseball team, the soccer team, your Introduction to Musical Theory class, the campus radio club, and—and yeah, you also know where I’m going with this.”

“Yeah but—but it’d be weird if I just went with anyone or something!” He mumbled under his breath, pausing on the other line to scratch his head in thought. “Come on, it’s not your midterms week yet, right? Can’t you come over and go to the movies with me?”

“You’ll probably strangle me in the dark or something.” You argued next.

“But it’s free tickets! At least you’re going to die with free tickets!”

“So you are planning to kill me! I knew it!” You snorted dryly, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have anyone else to go with? Why me?”

Jisung took in a sharp breath in the longest pause you’ve ever heard from the usually rowdy boy. At that moment, only then did you notice the faint sounds of pre-recorded dialogues for soccer arcade games. He must’ve been at the one near his dorm then as he usually was when he was contemplating on something. “I just—honestly, I’m still processing all of this and I don’t want to open up to the guys...and Eunha’s abroad and I’m not that close to Kira or Bora so I thought of you.”

Now, it was your turn to be speechless.

“It’s silly, I know.” Jisung continued with an awkward laugh when he didn’t hear anything on your end. “But even when you’re annoying sometimes and you always get angry at me because you always misunderstand, you’ve known me the longest and I know you listen well and you’re always open-minded about things so I thought I’d vent to you, if it’s okay...”

You finally released a defeated sigh, sitting up properly on your bed as if he was actually in the same room as you. “God, you’re too good at making me feel guilty.” You mused out loud. “Fine, just text me the place and time and no funny business!”

You met up with Jisung at the nearest shopping center the following night, surprise paper bags of take-out and a mini cake for two to eat at the cinema.

“I’m only going to be nice to you this time because you just got dumped and it’s your birthday later.” You explained as serious as you can to a giggling and blushing Jisung, handing him the take-out paper bags. Once the dinner meals are in his hands, you then take out the blueberry mini cheesecake from its separate paper bag and set up the candle you brought along with it. “Now, make a wish and get it over with.”

Jisung’s eyes widened at the pink candle suddenly being pushed up to his face, distracting him from the passersby cooing and making comments at the two of you. “Really?”

You nodded impatiently, thrusting the cake further up his face. “Yes! Now, blow on your candles or I’ll do it myself and eat the whole thing!”

Jisung wasted no time blowing the single candle and taking the cake from you as well, jumping up and down in place as he closed the lid carefully and returned it to its paper bag. “Thank you!” He exclaimed gleefully, pulling you to a side hug. “Now, I feel a bit better.”

“You better.” You frowned back at him, biting down a small smile when his hug lingered on a second longer. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late to the screening.”

Fortunately, Jisung didn’t actually tried strangling you in the dark while the movie played since he became busy with eating his dinner and cake as well as crying over the plot.

Age nineteen. Jisung took you to the arcade inside the shopping center after to vent while scoring kicks at the mini soccer game.

“Basically, she said—” Score. “—that she felt annoyed that Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin were mostly onto her for ‘seeming off’ whenever they met or interacted.” Another score. Standing outside the protective fence, your gaze darted quickly between Jisung and the small net across the long room. “So I said that’s just how those guys are: they’re very curious of new people and make a lot of effort over it so when they feel that the other person’s energy seems off or doesn’t match theirs in any way, they’d worry.”

You nodded along whenever he glanced over to you, agreeing halfheartedly. “Hm, those guys don’t take bullshit, of course...”

“Yeah, right...” Jisung kicked another ball, barely missing the goal as he thinks of what to say next. “Then she started accusing the guys that they don’t like her because she doesn’t do sports which doesn’t even make sense because I know it’s not superficial like that.” He sighed, scoring again. After this particular kick, he then stopped altogether and turned to you. “The guys just feel off that, as someone I’m dating, she doesn’t make enough effort to watch my games or be familiar with the sports I love. It’s not the same thing.”

“But does she make an effort to listen to your music?” You blurted out of nowhere, surprising not only Jisung but also yourself.

It just occurred you to on the spot. All this talk about Jisung’s passion for sports had you thinking if Haneul also disliked the one other thing that Jisung was absolutely passionate about: his music.

And it seemed to have caught him off-guard as it took the boy longer to contemplate on the question. “I—n-no? No...” He furrowed his brows in thought, walking over to you on his side of the chain link fence. “Come to think of it, she never told me what she thought of the songs I used to send her for feedback...”

You nodded, mumbling under your breath, “So much for defending her from everyone last summer...”

“Hm?”

“Like, I’d get it if your friends don’t immediately warm up to her because that really does happen in some relationships and it can be remedied over time but not appreciating the things you, the person she’s dating, are passionate about is another thing. If she doesn’t like the things you’re passionate about, then maybe she really isn’t the one you should be with.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “She could be all things nice but if she doesn’t support your own ambitions, other things that make you really happy, then everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

When he doesn’t speak, you allow yourself to continue. “Kira told me that you’re aiming for the national team in either baseball or soccer which is a bit surprising since I know you’re already being sought after for your music even at university so clearly those things are very important to you. Having someone around that doesn’t see that importance enough to make efforts is a bit meaningless in the long run, if you think about it. You...you deserve better, it’s what I’m trying to get at.”

Still, he wouldn’t speak after everything you said. Instead, the boy just gaped at you from the fence. It definitely unnerved you as time dragged on longer.

“I let you vent and made my own input on it like you wanted me here to and you just gape?” You tsked through your nervousness, crossing your arms teasingly and leaning over the fence on your side. “Ji, say something.”

“...thank you.” He finally breathed out before you could complain further, catching you off-guard this time. “I needed that.”

“What?”

“This whole thing just made me feel really conflicting feelings.” He confessed, voice lower than usual now as he mirrored your position. “Thank you for listening and telling me what you thought. They definitely made a lot of things clearer.”

You smiled, shoving him slightly through the fence separating the two of you. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it birthday boy?” You teased, laughing even more when he pouted at your teasing tone. “So? Feel better, then?”

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, grinning widely now. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.”

“You won’t admit it to my face but I know you’d do the same for me if I annoyed you into it enough.” You shrugged, standing up properly now and walking over to the entrance. “Now, would you let me play? You’ve been at it for twenty minutes, it’s getting tiring watching you.”

He laughed at this as you joined him in the arcade space, kicking a soccer ball towards you as soon as you came in through the chain entrance. “What? You think you can do better?”

“I had to watch you all the time after school back then because you were my ride home and Mrs. Han always picked us up late. I’m sure that could amount to something.”

Age nineteen and a half. For a mandatory community service class, all of your friends signed up to volunteer at an orphanage.

The majority vote was actually at the shelter you used to volunteer at but your old neighbourhood was too far from the university you were attending and so the most practical option, the orphanage just two blocks away, was the natural next best thing. And from this one semester’s worth of experience, you definitely learned a lot about your friends.

For one, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were only popular with kids but only for their looks (additionally, his baking skills for Felix). Whenever you passed by them during volunteer hours, you would often find the three buried underneath a pile of toddlers hitting them with all kinds of toys. Feeling bad, you actually got the orphanage’s matron to assign them to the older kids after a while.

Seungmin and Kira, on the other hand, were so awkward at first but naturally got into the groove of it. Maybe it’s because they only started dating then and everything was flustering but they surprised you the most with how much they got along with almost all of the kids regardless of age.

Then, there was Jisung whom almost all of the younger kids practically fought over to play with at the playground. As if it was an inside joke of some sort, it made you laugh the most how the kids would often ask him to push them at the swings.

“Careful now,” You reminded him once jokingly, elbowing his side as the two of you approached the swing set where the kids were already waiting to get pushed on their respective seats. “don’t want their knees to get scraped or something.”

He simply scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I won’t let that happen, not at this age.”

“So if I asked you to push me on the swings later, you won’t try and kill me this time?” You asked next, waving hello to the children before going around the swing set to gently push them to momentum. Jisung followed suit, making a beeline to his favorite, a toddler named Ara who always asked to be pushed higher on the swings.

“That’s a trick question because we’re not actually allowed to play here.” He answered matter-of-factly, turning to Ara right after. “Isn’t that right, Ara? Y/N isn’t allowed to play here because she’s an adult, right?”

The two of you would sit on the swing set and take turns pushing each other when the orphanage staff weren’t looking anyway, giggling amongst yourselves while watching the kids migrate to the jungle gym.

“You were so annoying when we were kids!” You mostly complained, letting yourself laugh about it now as it was all in the distant past. “You had the ‘girls had cooties’ phase and everything.”

“Because the boys all said it was true!” Jisung was quick to say in his defense, twisting the chains on his swing around to make himself spin. “And I was seven so of course I’d believe them that easily!”

“What about when you pushed me from the swings?”

“We both know that was an accident.”

“You could’ve secretly held a grudge against me as early as that time! You were so mad when your mom made you buy me snacks!”

“Because you told your mom that I did it on purpose! I thought you hated me even before that too.”

“Well, I never hated you before that, just to set the record straight.” You shook your head immediately, turning your swings to the side to face him briefly. “You? Did you ever hate me?”

“Never.” He shook his head back at you in response, equally serious now. “You were annoying at times but that was because I was kinda annoying to you too.”

“What about now?” You asked next, voice unexpectedly wavering at asking such a question and even more when he chuckled at this.

“You were with me on my what was almost my worst birthday ever just three months ago. What do you think?” He scoffed playfully, returning to his spinning to ease his flustered face. “Besides, we’re like better less-trying to kill each other all the time friends now! We’re even studying together again these days.”

“We both know you’re only at the library since you’ve been trying to wingman Hyunjin with the librarian and dote on Jeongin like he’s your baby.”

“What? No, I’m there for you too! Moral support!”

Age nineteen and three-fourths. Jisung’s older brother invited you along with your parents to his wedding during the Spring break and Jisung immediately jumped on the chance to redeem himself as ‘the best dance partner you ever had.’

You didn’t even think he’d remember something he said himself back then. Personally, you thought it was just his guilt from pissing you off or sleepiness from dancing too much at prom that was talking then. But the moment the dance floor was opened at the rather extravagant cherry blossoms-themed wedding, the best man was by your side within seconds after sprinting from his table across the wedding hall.

“Y/N!” He called to you as he ran to your table shared with all of your friends, your parents, and a few people from your childhood neighbourhood; his obnoxiously loud voice against the jazz music and his hand raised up above his head to wave at you catching a few guests’ attention. “Y/N!”

Felix was about to ask you to dance after Seungmin and Kira as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin paired up, your hand already up in the air to accept his, but Jisung was quick to swat your hand away from the other boy as soon as he arrived. “Sorry, Lix, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N away!” He dramatically interrupted in between tired pants, flashing the confused Felix with a sheepish grin. “I owe Y/N a very important dance!”

“What dance?” You raised a brow, bringing your hand away from his and back to your lap.

“The one—t-the one I promised you that night a-at prom.” He sighed, finally catching his breath after. “I promised you then, remember?”

From the corner of your eye, Felix’s eyes lightened up in excitement as he clasped his hands together and cooed. “Aww!” He giggled, making you and Jisung turn to him after. “If that’s the case, then why should I stop you two? I’ll just see if Chan or Changbin aren’t dancing yet!”

“But Lix!”

The other boy’s quick to wave his hands to you snappily, shaking his head. “No buts, Y/N! You two go and do that cute promised dance thing you have going on! I’ll be fine!” He assured, much to your protests. “I knew something was going on!”

“Nothing’s going o—“

“Thanks, Lix! I owe you, dude.” Jisung pats Felix’s shoulder appreciatively, turning to you after and taking your hand once more to pull you up into a stand. “Now, come on! My brother said he has my songs on queue!”

He whisked you away before you could protest further, taking you to the dance floor just as the music slows down to his own song. “Right on time!” He even exclaimed happily before placing his other hand on your waist. You’ve heard this one before as the one he would always sing at the Open Mic Nights at university. “Now, to make it up to you...”

Jisung didn’t dance so bad. He was still playful, making it a game between the two of you on who can step on the other’s feet the most when the next songs became more upbeat, but he was serious when he wanted to, sheepishly apologizing that it took him long to make it up to you.

“I didn’t even remember it until you brought it up tonight.” You assured with a laugh as the song slowed down once more. Without even realizing it, you’ve danced all of the songs in the two-hour setlist with him. “I didn’t think it was important.”

“Well, it is to me.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he can, visibly looking nervous towards the end. When you quietly asked him why, his only response was, “Because that night I really realized that even when I liked annoying you, I don’t like pissing you off so much to the point that you hate me.”

And at that moment you realized that Jisung has some way of catching you off-guard so randomly. “W-What? I mean—” You wanted to joke something along the lines of ‘wow, took you long enough,’ but the words ultimately never came out as Jisung chuckled at your baffled expression.

“I mean, trying to piss each other off, joking around, competing over studies—those are our things.” He confessed sincerely, unconsciously tightening his grip on your hand as the song progressed. “But I said something that night thinking of it as a joke and not really considering the thought that it would piss you off so much because you were so stressed already. I didn’t like pushing you on edge like that—”

“You already apologized and everything, it’s all g—”

“—But most importantly, I really wanted to dance with you then, regardless of the incident.” He breathed out before you could even finish your thought, rendering you speechless for the second time. “Maybe I’ve always liked you then, maybe even before that; either way, I really wanted to have one moment where we weren’t fighting or anything—and, surprisingly, even when we’ve started hanging out better, I still want one. I still like you.”

You immediately stopped dancing, bumping shoulders with a stranger behind you which Jisung instinctively responded to by pulling your frozen form to the side of the dance floor. You pursed your lips once to speak, only managing to fumble out, “Y-You...you liked me?”

“I said I like you. Present tense.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides immediately at sensing how tense and awkward the atmosphere suddenly became. “And I like you the way Seungmin dotes on Kira and Minho’s always protective of Bora and Jeoyeon’s been helplessly pining over Chan, those kinds in case you’re going to pull that how exactly do I like you bullshit you learned from Minho before again.”

“I—r-really?” Was your only response as you tried your best to process this revelation. “You like me? W-Why—why me?”

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yes, Y/N, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” He teased as casually as he could muster with his growing nervousness. “And why you? I don’t know, either, but I think I can start remembering as far back as the time you teased me at the playground that I push like a sissy but didn’t look for another playmate anyway. I’ve always liked you...just a little bit more now that I’m much more sure of a lot of things.”

It was all so overwhelming, honestly, but you belatedly muster up a laugh as he recalled such a distant memory from you. “Y-You...God, Han Jisung, you’re insufferable!” You mumbled under your breath, hitting him by his arm with one hand while the other covered your mouth. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“So, does that mean you like me too?”

“I let you dance with me the entire night. What do you think?” You scoffed playfully, gaze softening as you looked up at his relieved smile and bright eyes. “You did push like a sissy at the playground when we were kids, though.”

Age twenty. When Minho bought his roommate flowers to their last cheerdance competition and asked her to be his girlfriend, Hyunjin dared you to one-up the upperclassman and wear Jisung’s jersey to his own final game of the year.

“Well, you did give him that talk over dating someone who appreciates the things he loves.” Eunha told you over video call with the rest of your friend group on the day Hyunjin brought up the idea. Before you could even protest and repeatedly assure that you do support everything Jisung does, she was quick to add, “Yeah, I know you do appreciate them but I just think it’s fitting now! He’s been making a lot of effort for you lately and didn’t you say you wanted to do something in return? Maybe you can finally ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask for a while now too...”

You hated how she was right and very convincing about it. Since the wedding earlier in the year, Jisung has been nothing short of nicer to you. From actually hanging out with you at the library now (and not just to wingman Hyunjin or dote on Jeongin), buying you food randomly, to letting you vent your own worries and unwind from school by playing soccer with you or playing you music with his guitar, he’s been ‘making it up to you’ with quality time and sweet gestures; the only catch is that he hasn’t officially asked you out like he would.

The two of you aren’t exactly the direct words type of people but it’s still nice to have some sort of affirmation.

With a few more coaxing on her part combined with Seungmin’s own persuasiveness nagging at you in real time, your friends eventually got Jeongin to steal one of Jisung’s spare soccer jerseys later that day to give to you for his game on the following Saturday.

To say that Jisung was flustered is an understatement to say the least. Quickly catching you at the very front of the bleachers before the game started, he waved at you and the rest of your cheering friend group shyly, approaching only when the coach gave him permission to.

“Hey, that’s mine.” He snickered with even more sheepishness at seeing you up close, holding the jersey he wears by its shoulders before gesturing to the identical one you wear. The two of you stand by the stairs leading down to the field, on the side where you aren’t in the way of passing players and staff. “The jersey—maybe the one wearing it too.”

You held up the bouquet of daisies in your hands close to your face, effectively hiding the heat rising up to your neck. “I bought your favorite flowers too.” You pointed out next before gesturing to your friends sitting around you. “Those smartasses dared me to outdo Minho’s stunt at the cheerdance competition which I still think is dumb since you were in on that one but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?”

“Just seeing you is already enough.” He added with a flirty wink, making you cringe teasingly. “The jersey’s a really big bonus, though. I think I can score everything on this one because of you.”

“You better or else this jerseys’ going to be mine now.”

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head immediately, pulling you closer by the waist in his now ritual good luck hug from you and placing the flowers back on your sides. “I don’t mind calling you mine too.”

The cheesy pick-up line makes the two of you laugh. Either way, you push yourself to not let go of him too soon. “...ew, Jisung!” You hit his back instead, heaving a sigh of relief anyway before finally pulling away from his hug to send him off. That’s enough confirmation now. “Now, go win this game and get it over with. We’re still on for movies later, right?”

“Yep.” He assured, patting your head affectionately before boldly leaning closer again for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to it!”

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edie-baby · 3 years

Text

Baby Boy Chapter 5 | Lando Norris

Summary: Milana Navratilova is the best friend of Victoria Verstappen, and is for lack of a better word, a minx. She can pull anyone into bed with her at any time. So when she attends the Austrian Grand Prix with Victoria, the drivers make for good bedfellows. Until she finds a man who makes her finally feel like herself. Her baby boy.

Warnings: smut, swearing, non-con kiss (will be a chapter warning for that one), OC is a w h o r e and i love her.

The Austrian summer sun glared into Milana’s eyes from her position in the middle of the master bed. She rolled over slightly, wanting to get out and find her best friend so they could go for breakfast and then some shopping they both knew was inevitable on any trip. With a huff, the Czech stood up, only just realising exactly how sore the men had made her. She waddled to her suitcase, willing herself to suck it up and keep walking around until she got used to the pain.

A white pleated skirt and tight red cropped shirt seemed like a suitable enough outfit for her day’s plans, so with a waddle only a penguin could rival, Milana made it to the bathroom for a hot shower. The entire hotel room had the unmistakable smell of sex, and she was sure she’d need to leave the room before the smell seeped into her hair and clothes. Maybe housekeeping could work some magic while she was out.

“BABE ARE YOU HERE?” Milana heard the very recognisable croaky voice of her best friend. She called out that she was in the shower, and in a few short seconds, Victoria was sitting on the vanity in the bathroom, swinging her legs while Milana continued to cover herself in body wash that smelled delightfully of cherries.

“So, you had a good time with Lewis, I hear.” Milana giggled, and Victoria couldn’t help but to laugh along. She knew it was ridiculous that the man was able to make her scream his name so loud and for so long that she nearly lost her voice entirely.

“And judging by the bed, your silk tie, and the overall reek of the room, you did too. So, who’d you bring back? Daniel? Max?” Victoria questioned. While her brother was off limits to most of her friends, Milana was one of two women Victoria was familiar with that she would allow to mess around with her brother.

“Both.” Milana replied. Victoria gasped, giggling out a quick ‘you whore’ before asking what exactly her best friend meant.

“Like, you took Daniel from the party and picked Max up down the hall?” Victoria pressed, the only other option was that they had willingly come together, which didn’t seem like something her brother would be comfortable with.

“Nope, took them both at the same time.” Milana answered as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself as Victoria looked at her in complete shock.

“Oh, I’m never going to let Max live that down.” Victoria giggled before she jumped from the counter and moved to grab some clothes to wear for the day. Milana got dressed into her outfit and felt quite proud of how cute it looked considering she had basically picked up two random items and hoped for the best. About forty-five minutes later, the girls left the room hand-in-hand, their makeup and hair done as beautifully as it was last night, but hopefully today it would last more than a few hours before getting ruined.

“Morning Max! Going to see Dan?” Victoria chirped as she saw her brother walking toward where she and Milana waited for the elevator. Max’s face went a deep shade of red and the girls simply laughed and stepped into the elevator together.

Victoria and Milana had found a cafe nearby the hotel to have a quick brunch before heading out for their big day of shopping. As soon as they walked in, many heads turned thanks to the jingle of the bell above the door. Victoria spotted the Twitch Quartet in one of the tables up the back, the rest of the patrons seemed to be members of teams from all over the grid, as many of them were dressed in their team kit.

George waved the two girls over, coincidentally there were two seats spare at the table, one squished between Lando and the wall, and the other at the head of the table. As Victoria was a few paces ahead of Milana, she took the spacious seat at the head with Alex and Charles nearest to her. Milana practically floated over to the seat beside Lando and sat with her back leant up against the wall, her knees brushing against the Brit’s thigh.

“Milana, I’ve heard quite a bit about you. I saw you at the party last night, but didn’t get a chance to chat to you. I’m Alex, I drive with Max.” The Thai introduced himself, offering a hand to shake as he was straight across the table from Milana. She accepted it gracefully, a sweet smile curling her lips. She could see from the corner of her eye that Lando was looking at her with a small frown on his face.

“What’s wrong baby boy? You look upset.” Milana commented with a soft voice, the late night and early morning contributing to her voice being a little huskier than usual. Lando blushed fiercely at the pet name and bit his lip. The others around the table looked shell shocked by the words that had fallen from the Czech woman’s lips.

“You just look tired.” Lando mumbled, his blue-green eyes darting up to make contact with the dark hazel of Milana’s. Her eyes softened at his words, and she couldn’t help the smile on her face. She patted his thigh softly and assured him she was alright.

“You girls looked lovely last night, by the way. I didn’t get the chance to tell you before you were leaving with Daniel and Max, and then Vic disappeared not long after.” George complimented. Victoria giggled, the fact that she had teased her brother about going to see his ex-teammate less than a half hour ago, and already the two were being brought up together.

“Yeah, I noticed that too. And also noticed the noise an hour after that.” Alex grumbled. Milana smirked, and saw the shock smack Charles and George in the face. Lando seemed to be watching her with intrigue.

“Wait, you took one of them back to your room?” George questioned. At this, Victoria burst out laughing, garnering strange looks from everyone but the woman of the hour.

“Well, no. Not one.” Milana spoke, staring George in the eyes until he understood what she was implying. He gasped so hard he choked on his spit and began coughing up a lung. Victoria rubbed his back sympathetically, while Charles continued trying to figure out the implications of the woman’s words in a language that was not his native tongue. Lando and Alex had understood at the same time as George, albeit with less dramatic reactions. Alex’s jaw dropped, his ideas of his teammate changing as he stared at the woman in front of him. Lando’s eyebrows were raised, a small smirk on his face, he was impressed.

“So, let me get this straight. You convinced Daniel Ricciardo, the womanizer of the grid, and Max Verstappen, Mr. I Don’t Share Anything to have a threesome?!” Alex almost squealed. It was at this point where Charles caught up, the blunt words finally clearing his confusion up, at which point he began mumbling in broken French. Milana simply nodded at George and took a sip of Lando’s iced coffee, to which he barely reacted.

“Fuck, they must have ruined you.” George muttered, looking at Milana with sympathy and a small shake of his head. Victoria began giggling at this again, and George looked at her with confusion. It was obvious at this point that the young Verstappen couldn’t hold the truth in without giggling.

“My wife here has a special talent for making difficult men submit.” Victoria nodded proudly at Milana. George began coughing again, Alex looked like a fish, his mouth opening and closing silently, and Charles began rambling in proper French this time, however he was talking so fast that Milana barely caught the worlds ‘petit friponne’ before tuning back out. Lando was staring at her again, the earlier expression was gone, and he looked at her with a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. Milana couldn’t help but want to assure the adorable boy in front of her that it was just sex, and if there was anyone she had her eye on at the moment, it was him. But alas, she didn’t.

The group finished their brunch with a lot of stories, laughs, jokes, and new friendships being formed. It made Milana a bit upset as she and Victoria made their way to the Aston Martin they were borrowing, that in about five days, she would be returning to her apartment in Prague, going back to work, and being forgotten by people she could have lifelong friendships with.

The drive to Vienna from Spielberg was about two hours, according to the GPS Victoria had programmed whilst Milana fiddled with the position of the driver’s seat. A few moments later, the girls were on their way, a playlist of their favourite singalongs and party songs blasting through the stereo, the windows down and the two women completely carefree.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #team lando #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris smut #mclaren f1 #formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #call me eden

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

Rest, Relaxation... And Exploration

AO3 Link Here!

Collaboration with: @i-live-so-i-love Relationships: Junkook x Yoongi Genre: smut Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~5k

Tags: smut, friends to lovers, Nephilim Jungkook, monster/human Romance, mutual masturbation, handjobs, first kiss, getting together, tentacle monster, tentacles as erogenous spots

Summary: Jungkook knows that Yoongi needs a break, and wants to help him relax. He just hadn't planned on THAT kind of relaxing.

A/N: Written for @calixwrites - hope you enjoy!!

“Why are we doing this again?” Yoongi grumped, getting out of the car and squinting at the sunlight.

Jungkook twisted and stretched as he stood up, trying to wake himself after the long drive. The day was almost warmer than he’d prefer but it was perfect for what he had planned.

“Because you have been working too much in that tiny studio with no windows, no sunlight, and no fresh air for too long. You need some outdoor time,” Jungkook reminded him.

“I’m allergic to sun and fresh air,” Yoongi deadpanned.

Jungkook was used to Yoongi’s dry humor. He’d known him for years. Ever since he’d accidentally walked in on Jungkook in full Nephilim mode; all thirteen eyes and six tentacle-esque wings on display. Jungkook rarely had them out, even in private, but he’d been in a public bathroom trying to get his clothes and hair perfect for a date. And frankly, sometimes it was just easier with six extra appendages.

He had been able to keep Yoongi from screaming and convinced him he wasn’t crazy. Originally, Jungkook had only meant to keep tabs on him so he didn’t try to run to the authorities, but somehow, he’d gotten a close friend out of it. A friend that, right now, desperately needed some fresh air and a good meal.

“Hush and help me unpack,” Jungkook scolded.

Together they lugged it all up the stone steps in one go. (Tentacles really could be handy sometimes.) The beach house that Jungkook rented for cheap from a friend of a friend was small and tidy. One room served as the kitchen, dining room, and living room, plus a bathroom and a tiny bedroom. It would do for a night. The real benefit of the place was that it came with a quarter mile of private sandy beach.

“I thought the point of this was to get me out of a tiny room?” Yoongi teased after they finished looking around.

“it is. Which is why we’re going to lay out in the sun. Put some swim trunks on.” Jungkook beamed at his horrified expression.

“I’ll burn to a crisp! We don’t all have your magical immunity to the sun, you know.”

“I packed you sunscreen. The strongest I could find. You’ll be just fine. And you get to do one your favorite things. Just with fresh air and sunlight.”

Yoongi continued to look skeptical. Jungkook pouted. “Just give it a chance?”

Yoongi’s expression softened; Jungkook knew it would. The human couldn’t resist a good pout.

“Fine.”

The two of them changed and made their way across the hot sand. About halfway between the house and waves Jungkook stopped.

“The perfect spot!” He announced, setting down the bag and rummaging through it. Yoongi looked around.

“What makes this spot any different than anywhere else?”

Jungkook shook a large blue and white striped towel and laid it across the sand. He flopped onto it dramatically, the ground giving a satisfying thunk at his bulk. “Because this spot has a towel.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook reached out, fishing through the bag for a second towel. He threw it to Yoongi, smirking when it smacked the other square in his grumpy face.

Yoongi set it out, his expression decidedly softer. He settled onto the blanket and paused before kicking his sandals off and tugging his t-shirt over his head. He rolled onto his stomach, head pillowed on his folded arms. He wiggled a little, making a spot for himself in the soft sand. “This isn’t so bad,” he hummed.

Jungkook tried not to stare. It’s not that he’d never seen Yoongi without his shirt on. There had been occasions over the course of their friendship where he’d spilled something on himself, or it was just somehow more convenient, but admittedly it wasn’t often. Jungkook hadn’t actually expected him to take it off. But there he was, his broad back looking far paler in the sunlight.

They were just friends. But, that didn’t stop Jungkook from having eyes. And Yoongi was an attractive human even by human standards. Yoongi had his eyes closed; the soft curve of his lashes and the resting pout of his lips drew Jungkook’s attention next. He really, truly was achingly beautiful.

Jungkook dug around in the bag and dropped a bottle of sunscreen next to Yoongi’s head.

“There you go, potato chip.”

Yoongi grunted and opened his eyes.

“Were you already half asleep?” He asked, rummaging through the bag for a snack.

“Maybe. Did you just call me a potato chip?”

Jungkook pulled a bag of actual potato chips from and popped it open. He smirked. “Yeah. You said you were going to get crispy. And you’re already plenty salty.” He tossed a few of the ships into his mouth.

Yoongi ignored your joke and squeezed a dollop of the lotion onto his hand. He began to rub it into his arms and face methodically. It was a little unnerving to watch his features slowly be obscured by the sunblock. He glanced up at Jungkook and cocked a brow.

Jungkook smiled sheepishly, aware he’d been caught staring in an entirely creepy way. He offered Yoongi the bag of chips in an apology. Yoongi reached for them, but paused, both his hands covered in the gloopy lotion. He shrugged and held his mouth open like a baby bird instead. With an affectionate shake of his head, Jungkook dropped a chip into his mouth. Yoongi chewed and swallowed, and demanded yet another with an open mouther.

“Too greedy,” Jungkook scolded through a laugh, dropping another chip into his mouth.

He was actively ignoring the fact that it felt a little coupley to be hand feeding him chips. It wasn’t that he’d never considered a romantic relationship with Yoongi. He just knew it would never happen. They both had busy lives and, not to mention, Yoongi was so far out of Jungkook’s league it was nearly laughable. So, any crush that may have tried to bloom was quickly uprooted; Jungkook valued their friendship far too much.

After the third chip, Jungkook tossed Yoongi something to wipe his hands with. He laid back to enjoy the sun, feeling much of his stress being chased away.

“Hey, can you do my back?” Yoongi asked, popping the bubble of relaxation Jungkook had been drifting away into. He sighed and sat up, taking the bottle from Yoongi.

“You have such pretty markings, it’s a shame to cover them,” Jungkook commented casually as he began to rub the lotion into Yoongi’s back. The lines that arched over his shoulder blade and along his spine were nearly symmetrical. As Jungkook worked lower, he wondered what the markings further extension would look like. Humans often had more complex designs in that area, but Jungkook had never seen Yoongi’s. With how shapely Yoongi was though… Jungkook could only imagine they would be just as pleasing.

“Huh?” Yoongi asked softly. “What markings?”

“These,” Jungkook traced one line that dipped along Yoongi’s spine, still faintly visible through the metallic speckled UV reflecting lotion.

Yoongi squirmed.

“Ticklish?” Jungkook asked, repeating the action.

Yoongi grunted, wiggling away from his fingers. “I will put so much spice in dinner tonight that you won’t be able to taste anything for a month,” he threatened, laughter in his deep voice.

“Oh fine,” Jungkook held up his hands, relenting. “Now hold still so I can finish.”

“Hey, I was holding still. You started it.”

Jungkook smiled at his pout and set back to work. Just as he finished up, Yoongi spoke again.

“Really though, what markings? Do I have scars or freckles that I don’t know about?”

“No, your stripes,” Jungkook explained hurriedly, hearing the worry in Yoongi’s voice.

Yoongi craned his neck back to see Jungkook over his shoulder. “I don’t have stripes.”

It was then that Jungkook remembered. “Oh! Duh. I forgot. You must not have the right ocularity to see them.”

He was normally so careful around humans. His parents had drilled into him how important it was that people didn’t ever know about his differences. He almost never brought up the things he knew humans couldn’t see with their limited visual range. But Yoongi made him feel so normal. Aside from his initial freak out, he’d never acted like Jungkook’s abilities were anything more than a unique curiosity or a party trick. His expression now remained puzzled. Jungkook closed all but two of his eyes, limiting his vision to what a human would have. He couldn’t help but frown at the way Yoongi saw himself. It was so plain, like a rainbow in black and white for a human. Yoongi was still gorgeous, but that spark was missing. A human’s markings and colorings told Jungkook so much about them than their visible light ever could. Yoongi’s were particularly stunning from day one.

“In your visible light spectrum, they aren’t there,” he further explained.

“Ocularity? That sounds like a word Namjoon would know. Some obscure thing.”

“It means the number of eyes you have normally. Though I suppose in this case it’s more about spectral frequency than actual number of physical eyes…”

“And in your eyes, I have stripes?” Yoongi looked down at himself, curious. “I must look so weird to you.” He laughed lightly.

“Not at all,” Jungkook said. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Yoongi cocked his head and grinned.

Jungkook could feel his cheeks heat but tried to ignore it. “Yes, beautiful. You can’t tell me you aren’t aware of how stunning you are and how many people find you attractive.”

“Maybe,” Yoongi conceded. “But I didn’t think you did.”

Jungkook’s blush deepened. He tried to ignore it, but thought his cheeks rivaled the sun’s heat at that very moment. “Anyone with eyes thinks you’re gorgeous. So yeah, that includes me. Doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re an annoying troublemaker who worries his friends by overworking thought,” Jungkook stuck his tongue out and turned away, hoping Yoongi would let it go after the riff.

“So,” Yoongi continued much to Jungkook’s disappointment, “if you have more than the usual number of eyes, and more than the usual amount of uhh… Ocularity… Does that mean you find me more than the usual amount of beautiful?”

Jungkook sighed heavily. “Does it matter?”

“It doesn’t, I guess. I just always thought you were good looking. I never realized you thought the same about me.”

Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief. “I’m sure the glowing eyes and tentacle wings are super sexy to a human.” Jungkook could hear the bitterness in his voice, but it had always bugged him. Any partner he’d ever had had only seen a part of him, nobody ever saw him completely, for what he truly was. They’d call him a monster.

When Yoongi remained silent, Jungkook figured his question had been answered. But Yoongi finally responded, “it is to this human.”

Jungkook snapped his head up to look at Yoongi then laughed. There’s no way that could be true. “You’re just being nice,” Jungkook said. “I appreciate it. But… Let’s just go back to enjoying the sun, eh?” He rolled onto his back on the blanket and closed his eyes, letting his skin soak up the warm rays.

Yoongi laid back on his stomach fully, silent for the moment. Jungkook could feel him watching him, but didn’t mind. It was a comforting feeling.

“I’ve always wondered. Can you feel your wings like that? Aren’t they on your back?”

“I can, and they are. But they also aren’t. I can still feel them and move them. You’re used to thinking in three dimensions, as a human. But when I hide my wings or other parts of me, it’s like…” Jungkook frowned as he tried to find an analogy Yoongi would comprehend. “Like taking pants off a paper doll. They both still exist to you, but for the doll, it doesn’t have pants anymore.”

“So hiding your wings is like taking your pants off?” Yoongi chuckled. When Jungkook glanced over, Yoongi winked suggestively. Jungkook’s brows furrowed, confused about what had gotten into his friend today. “No, not really,” Jungkook sighed, opting to ignore the flirtation… If that’s what it was. “It’s not a perfect metaphor.”

“Do you keep them hidden because they’re private? Or so you don’t scare people?”

“I’m pretty sure people would run screaming or try to lock me up and do horrible tests on me if I just walked down the street with glowing tentacle wings and thirteen eyes,” Jungkook deadpanned.

“You know I wouldn’t thought. But you still almost always keep them hidden from me too. I wasn’t sure if it was because they were private.”

“Oh…” Jungkook pauses to consider. “I guess it’s just habit,” he finally settled on. Even home alone he rarely brought them out. Only when he needed the extra appendage to flick a light switch off across the room or carry things. There was another long pause as Jungkook thought about Yoongi’s question, and Yoongi, apparently, was thinking as well.

“Can I see them?”

“Why so curious all of a sudden?” Jungkook asked. His tone was gentle. He sat up and wiggled his shoulders a little to pull his wings into this dimension.

“Wow.” Yoongi sat up and looked over Jungkook’s shoulder, his eyes tracing the long, golden, glowing tentacles. They shifted subtly in his perception, never entirely free from the currents of the fourth dimension. “I forgot how beautiful they are.” His gaze darted over to Jungkook’s face and he frowned. “What about your eyes?”

Jungkook hesitated. “You sure? I mean glowy wings might be tolerable… But thirteen eyes…”

“I’m sure. I can handle it. No screaming this time.”

Jungkook chuckled a little. He scrunched his face and blinked a few times, letting every part of himself slip into this dimension. It felt nice, like releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Yoongi stared for a long minute, his gaze intense. Maybe it did feel more like taking your pants off than he thought it would. Jungkook considered hiding his eyes away again; maybe he had horrified Yoongi after all, but Yoongi seemed to shake himself out of whatever trance he was in.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

The pause grew to the point of awkward between them. Jungkook sighed, but opted to ignore it. He rolled onto his stomach to lie in the sun once more, wings still out.

“Can I touch them?” Yoongi blurted out. He paused when Jungkook looked up. Jungkook could swear he was blushing. “I’m sorry, was that rude?” He asked.

“No. Not rude. Not so different from touching my arm, I guess… I don’t know, really… I don’t know a ton of other Nephilim to have some sort of reference.”

“Oh, uh, right… Sorry.”

Jungkook shrugged and sat up, facing Yoongi. Yoongi did the same. Jungkook spread the tendrils of his wings out in front of him like open hands, glancing up at Yoongi expectantly. Yoongi reached out, setting his hand on top of them. Jungkook was surprised at the sensation. It felt so strange, but not uncomfortable at all. Soothing, in a way.

“They’re warm,” Yoongi said, surprise apparent in his own voice. He stroked his hand along the length of them, and Jungkook suppressed a shudder. It felt really good. Like someone rubbing his back but… More. Yoongi shifted his hands from stroking three at a time to just one. He twirled his finger around the tip of it, as if spinning a hair. The motion sent an unexpected shiver of pleasure down Jungkook’s spine and he gasped, nearly crying out. He yanked his wings away and instantly shifted them out of sight.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—” Yoongi cried in surprise. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would feel like that,” Jungkook stammered, his cheeks flushed and hot.

“Did I hurt you?” Yoongi’s brows were knitted together in concern.

Jungkook wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “No…” He mumbled. Yoongi must not have realized… “The opposite, actually.”

“Oh…”

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry,” Jungkook continued. “I honestly didn’t know it felt like that. I’ve never let anyone touch them, I didn’t know—”

“You’ve never let anyone touch them?” Yoongi asked, cutting Jungkook off.

“Of course not. You’re the only human that knows about them. Who else would have?”

“Your parents?” Yoongi suggested.

“They’re terrified of them. And besides… Now I’m glad they haven’t,” he admitted, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“It’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“That there’s this whole other side to you. An amazing side that you don’t get to show anyone. That you don’t get to explore at all because of how people are.”

Jungkook shrugged one shoulder. “I’m used to it. It doesn’t bother me anymore, I’ve spent my whole life hiding it. And besides,” Jungkook smiled. “You know the real me. So, one person has seen it. And accepts it… I hope.”

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully.

Jungkook looked back down at the blanket. There was a small nagging feeling in the back of his mind, a curiosity about what he’d felt in Yoongi’s hands, what more would feel like. He could explore it on his own, he figured. He wanted to put this whole awkward, humiliating event past him and get on with the relaxing weekend—

“I can help you,” Yoongi said, cutting into his plan.

“Help me?”

“You don’t know much about… That side. I mean, you didn’t know how it would feel to have someone touch them. But someday, I mean… You’ll meet someone who you can share that with, I hope. So, you’ll want to be prepared, or at least know what to expect. So, if you’re curious and wanted to, I… I could help you explore.” Yoongi looked down as he spoke, fiddling with the sand between their blankets.

Jungkook blinked, his mind taking a long moment to process exactly what Yoongi was asking. Was he actually offering… Based on his inability to make eye contact… And the beautiful pink glow of his cheeks, he was. It was strange, thinking of it, definitely not something friends did, right? Jungkook chewed his bottom lip until it hurt, his head twitching as he thought through the situation. It was definitely more than friends. And he should definitely not say yes. This held the potential of changing their entire relationship forever. Ruining it, even. Or making it something more. Yoongi had mentioned finding him attractive. But that was out of the question. No, he had to politely say no, this was something he could explore on his own.

“Okay.” The word came out firm and decisive, evidently his mouth had decided to ignore every shred of rationale his brain was giving.

“Really?” Yoongi looked up, his own eyes wide, as if he were as surprised by the answer. “You… I didn’t think you’d agree,” he admitted. “You’re sure? I do want to. But, I know this is… Big. We can stop any time.”

“I know.” Jungkook nodded. “I trust you.”

Yoongi’s entire face brightened, his mouth upturning into a gummy smile that had Jungkook’s heart fluttering and his cheeks and chest warming.

He took a breath, not sure where to start. “So… What should I do?”

“Well, I need to see them to be able to touch them,” Yoongi teased, reaching out and waving his hand in the empty space where Jungkook’s tentacles should be.

“Right.” Jungkook wiggled and let them appear once more.

“I’ll never get over how pretty that looks,” Yoongi commented. He let his hand fall, watching the movement of them for a moment.

“So, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Yoongi said. “You’ll need to let me know how it feels, okay?”

“You mean you haven’t played with tentacles before? What kind of twenty-something year old are you?” Jungkook teased.

Yoongi scoffed. He reached out, catching one of the tentacles. He squeezed lightly, just hard enough to give some pressure, his eyes on Jungkook’s face.

“That’s okay, doesn’t hurt but… Doesn’t feel like it did before—Oh!”

While Jungkook spoke, Yoongi slid his hand slowly up and down the tentacle.

“Better?” He whispered. Jungkook nodded, closing his eyes. Yoongi repeated the motion and reached out for another tentacle, doing the same. He pulled one closer to him, twirling his finger around the tip like he had before.

Jungkook moaned softly, his eyes snapping open. He covered his mouth with his hands. “Oh, God, I—”

Yoongi let go of one tentacle to tug his hands down. “We’re alone. You don’t have to be shy.”

“This is so weird,” Jungkook mumbled, leaning toward Yoongi a little.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please don’t stop… Do that again?”

Yoongi chuckled. He repeated the twirling motion and then slid his hand down the tentacle, moving it back up in one fluid stroke. Jungkook felt his belly tighten up and he moaned softly, his shoulders sagging a little.

“Come closer to me, I want to reach more of them,” Yoongi whispered.

Jungkook moved onto the same towel, resting on his knees in front of Yoongi, his head bowed. Yoongi made a small noise. He moved forward, wrapping both arms around Jungkook. He caught the tentacles in his hands, sliding his fingers over them and pressing where they emerged from Jungkook’s back. His short nails scraped over one as he stroked his fingers up it, and Jungkook cried out, jerking forward.

The motion sent him slamming into Yoongi’s chest, his heart pounding wildly.

Yoongi cried out in surprise, tightening his grip on Jungkook’s back. “Hey… You okay?”

“Y—Yeah,” Jungkook stuttered. He could hear Yoongi’s heart pounding as fast as his own. The aura around Yoongi was shifting, a vibrant array of colors that would have made the most strong-willed person a little dizzy.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook worried. “Is this… Not good?”

“This is…” Yoongi drifted off. Jungkook looked up at him, meeting his gaze. Yoongi’s pupils were dilated and dark despite the sun, his gaze intense.

“This is what?” Jungkook pressed.

Yoongi swallowed hard. He shifted, pulling Jungkook closer to him. “It’s okay,” Yoongi whispered. “You can lean on me.”

Jungkook pouted a little at Yoongi’s lack of an answer, but let himself be guided onto Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi’s hands slid over his back once more, up short, anxiety bitten nails scraping over the sensitive trunks of his tentacles. Jungkook moaned helplessly, letting his forehead fall onto Yoongi’s shoulder.

Yoongi began to work each of the tentacles in turn, squeezing and stroking, rubbing, each one, testing each. Jungkook’s entire body was on fire. His stomach was knotted in a million twists, a heat and pressure more intense than he’d ever felt before building low inside his belly.

“Yoongi—” He strained.

“I’m here,” Yoongi purred. His breath was hot against Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook moaned wantonly. He didn’t care. He didn’t care that they were “just friends”, he didn’t care that this was just “exploring”. Every emotion he’d felt for Yoongi was rushing back. Every glance that was less than friendly, every “what if” whispered in the back of his mind, every moment shoved away and boxed up under the guise of not wanting to ruin things, not being good enough, not being human enough.

“Yoongi!” He cried again, his voice taking on a pleading lilt. He let his head fall back, leaning into the touches. He looked at Yoongi, struggling to focus. The aura of colors surrounding Yoongi seemed to reflect his own inner chaos, shifting and writhing around them. Despite all of the emotions flooding him, it still surprised Jungkook when he felt Yoongi’s lips against his own. It took him a moment to react. Yoongi’s mouth was soft and plush, tasting of the potato chips they’d shared earlier, the faintest hint of coffee from this morning. He felt Yoongi begin to pull away and made a small noise, instinct kicking in. Jungkook wrapped his arms around Yoongi and deepened the kiss, pressing every inch of his own body against him.

The tentacles that Yoongi wasn’t touching wrapped around them, brushing Yoongi’s back and neck lightly.

He could feel Yoongi’s cock, pressing up against the fabric of his swim trunks, just as hard as his own. Jungkook brought his hips down, grinding their crotches together gently. It was almost disappointing; the lack of feeling he got from it. It was nice, of course, but didn’t feel near as amazing as Yoongi’s hands on his tentacles.

Yoongi, on the other hand, reacted beautifully. His hips jerked and he moaned into Jungkook’s mouth, his grip tightening ever so slightly on the tentacles.

Jungkook pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. He began to hump himself against Yoongi, their breathing rapid as they shared the same warm pocket of air.

Curious, Jungkook let one tentacle sink down, sliding over Yoongi’s bare knee. He shifted his own seating position and pushed it up slowly, into the leg of Yoongi’s swim trunks and up. Yoongi’s eyes widened almost comically when he felt it, his hands going still.

Jungkook pushed up further, letting the tip of the tentacle brush over Yoongi’s balls, already drawn tight to his body. Up further, and around his cock. He wound the tentacle around it in a firm grip, amazed at the texture he could feel, and how good it felt. He could feel Yoongi’s pulse, fast and strong. He stroked it experimentally. Both gasped. It was so intimate. Though it wasn’t exactly like being penetrated, it was so much more than any masturbation he’d done before with anyone. He began to jerk Yoongi off slow and steady, his own climax drawing closer.

Yoongi was wiggling and moaning, clearly struggling to maintain composure. He continued to work Jungkook’s tentacles, knowing the perfect motions at this point to send all the good sparks straight to Jungkook’s guts.

“Please—“ Jungkook gasped.

“Are you close?”

Jungkook nodded. Yoongi let go of one tentacle and grabbed the front of Jungkook’s shorts. He pulled them out and pushed them down just enough for the tip of Jungkook’s cock to be exposed.

“Nobody likes come in their shorts.” Jungkook laughed breathlessly. He did the same for Yoongi, but moved back and pushed them down further.

He watched his tentacle stroke Yoongi’s cock, breathless at the beauty of it. The stripes on Yoongi’s back wound around to his front, swirling around his cock in complex, beautiful patterns.

“Together—“ Yoongi panted.

Jungkook blinked at him.

Yoongi let go of his tentacles only long enough to pull him close again. He touched the tentacle on his cock. “Jerk us both off.”

“I can barely feel my cock with you touching my tentacles,” Jungkook admitted.

He still did as Yoongi requested, unable to hide the smile when Yoongi’s hips jerked. The skin of their cocks slid together as he stroked them both with the tentacle.

Yoongi turned his focus back to the other five, matching pace as they each pulled one another toward climax.

Jungkook came first, unsurprisingly. His head fell back and he shouted Yoongi’s name. His full form shimmered into view, the intensity of his orgasm forcing him into one dimension. His cock spilled his release down the shaft, slicking the way for his tentacle as he continued to stroke them both. Every nerve in his body was on fire, even his tentacles felt as if they were tensing and releasing in time to the powerful climax.

Yoongi swore and jerked. Jungkook forced his eyes open in time to watch, not wanting to miss it. Yoongi’s release spurted onto Jungkook’s belly. Yoongi shuddered, dropping his head onto Jungkook’s shoulder as the waves of pleasure washed over him. Jungkook could nearly see it in his shifting aura, beautiful and hypnotizing.

The two sat in silence for a long time after their orgasms faded, catching their breath and letting the reality of what happened sink in. Yoongi was the first to move, reaching over and dragging the bag closer. He found the towel he’d used to wipe his hands earlier and used it once more, cleaning the release from their bodies and Jungkook’s tentacles tenderly.

Jungkook moved off him and back onto his own blanket, fixing his shorts. He shrugged a bit, his tentacles and extra eyes slipping from view once more.

“So…”

“That was…” Yoongi began at the same time. They both chuckled a little, a tension in the air.

“What do we do now?” Jungkook finally asked. He found himself unable to meet Yoongi’s gaze, afraid of what the other was going to say.

“You were saying I was handsome. I mean… That you thought I was,” Yoongi began.

“You are.”

“Was it just that? Like… You think I’m handsome but we’re friends and… That’s it? Or… More?”

Jungkook cautiously looked up at Yoongi. He was sitting in a similar position, staring at his hands in his lap.

“I’m afraid to answer,” Jungkook admitted.

“Please, don’t be. I need to know.”

“I don’t want it to ruin our friendship.”

Yoongi looked up. “If you’re scared of that… Does that mean it’s a yes? To… More?”

“I tried to ignore it. I figured we were both busy and you’re… So handsome. I’m just…” Jungkook drifted off.

“The most stunning person I’ve ever met,” Yoongi finished.

“That’s a boldfaced lie,” Jungkook snorted.

“No, Jungkook. It’s not.” Yoongi moved forward. He grabbed Jungkook’s face, cupping it in his hands. “I’ve been fascinated with you forever. You’re funny and kind and beautiful, and so interesting. I can’t get bored around you. You make me so happy. I just figured… I’m so… Human. And how dull I must be to you.”

Jungkook grimaced. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You are anything but dull.”

“I lack the ocularity,” Yoongi responded, his voice shifting as he smirked. Jungkook laughed. He set his hands over Yoongi’s wrists.

“So, it seems like… We both have been interested in more for a while.”

“And were both too worried to say something.”

“Now that the truth is out… What’s next?”

Yoongi smiled softly. “I think we go take a dip in the ocean. And then make dinner… And then come lay on the beach and watch the sunset together… How does that sound?”

Jungkook smiled brightly. He let his tentacles and eyes appear, his heart skipping a happy beat when Yoongi’s smile broadened.

“I think that sounds like the perfect first date.”

#thebtswritersclub #calixwrites #i-live-so-i-love #yoonkook #yoongi x jungkook #jungkook x yoongi #sugakookie #smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #tentacles #monster x human

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mai-sau · 3 years

Note

Prompt "give me attention" for kidnap family?

"haha, im gonna take it easy with prompts this time around, only a few hundred words -" cue spongebob title card "2.3k words later"

seriously tho thank you for the prompt!! (and sorry about the wait!) i had fun working on this one bc well i love any chance to write about this lil family of murderers and tiny bois :') hope u enjoy!!

Prompt: "Give me attention."

“Nelyo.”

“Ne-”

Thump. Maedhros slammed his book shut. A puff of dust wheezed out from the crusty pages; Maglor could make out the swirl of particles flying about in the dim shafts of sunlight peeking into his brother’s study from windows that he was sure were clean at some point in their existence.

Said brother tossed a glare over to Maglor from the other side of his desk.

“You’re allowed to be here. Quietly.” Maedhros threw a pointed look towards the abandoned scroll in Maglor’s hands.

“But I’m so very lonely, Nelyo,” Maglor pouted, and dropped the scroll on the desk. The parchment rolled out towards Maedhros, whose face was fast approaching the same shade as his hair. “Besides, I’ve already taken care of all my correspondence for the day. Nothing much else to do, really, but seek out the company of my darling brother.”

“I’m older than you,” Maedhros grit out, rubbing his temple in terse little circles. Which one of them he was reminding Maglor couldn’t say.

“Only by a few years,” Maglor teased. He let the corners of his lip curl up - he was well aware this made him look like “a cat about to feast on the fattest saucer of milk it’s ever conned” according to his brother, and that was why he did it.

On top of that dusty old book, Maedhros’ fingers twitched. Got you.

“Come on, Nelyo,” he whined. “Give me attentiooon.”

Maedhros threw him a positively hateful look, but Maglor knew he wouldn’t throw him out just yet. By this point, Maglor liked to think he knew his brother well enough.

There were some things he didn’t, of course, and this was fine. When his brother would wake and traipse out to the courtyard in the dead of night, staring at the moon hungrily for hours and hours as if he would never glimpse its light amidst the pitch dark again; when one of the many elves around Amon Ereb would do something wrong - not when one of their craftsmen made the same excited little exclamation as Curvo used to, or hunters fletched their arrows just how Tyelko did, Maglor understood these, at least - but a request phrased too sweetly, an abrupt movement, a smile too wide, and Maedhros’ throat would tighten, his words clipped, before excusing himself to go lock himself in his room for an hour, or two, or three: these parts of his brother Maglor may never know.

But he knew much, or at least enough. A few months after they’d taken in the twins, Maglor had just finished mopping an explosion of jam on the dining floor and sweeping up the shards of what was once the hefty jar that contained it. He’d first gently let Elros know that if they wanted food, they need only ask; he’d then let him know that no, of course they wouldn’t cast him out for breaking the jam jar, with no small amount of tears or internal panic on either end of that conversation.

By the time Maglor slunk into Maedhros’ study that evening to go over reports from around the fortress, he was maybe a bit tired. When Maedhros told him to wait for just a few minutes while he wrapped something or other up, Maglor might’ve let slip a touch of petulance and no small amount of theatrics into his voice when he asked when his dear Nelyo could spare just a moment for his poor baby brother, simply wilting away from the neglect.

Maglor had frozen, fearful of what his second-most severe brother would have to say in response to - well, whining. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d let himself do so. Oh, he’d been quite the brat in Valinor, and used to be quite proud of that fact, thank you. Each and every one of his brothers’ last nerves practically had his name on it. But it seemed ever since they arrived here, it was as if they simply couldn’t afford the waste of time. Ribbing was a favored pastime of his in Aman, but Beleriand offered no such frivolities.

But living with the twins, putting on playful words and coaxing laughter from two young faces that Maglor couldn’t bear to see two seconds from breaking anymore, had apparently loosened his discipline.

He’d thought Maedhros would treat him to one of his signature frowns, barking at him that neither of them had time to make things any harder for each other, but instead he’d… laughed. Just the slightest huff of air, yes, but a laugh nonetheless. Maglor hadn’t heard his brother laugh since…

Well, if anything, he was honoring his cousin’s memory.

So Maglor experimented over the years, let a few more teases and whines slip into his day-to-day interactions with Maedhros. His brother had since mustered a valiant effort to act annoyed, but Maglor could still catch a muffled chuckle or smothered grin here and there.

So. All in all, he’s sure he knows his brother pretty well at this point, and Maedhros was not troubled (bad), just bothered (good).

Which, of course, meant they could continue to play; Maglor would show no mercy.

“Please? Please, please? Just a smidgen of tender love and care from my dearly beloved big brother?” Maglor asked, eyes wide and pleading, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned over the desk. His hair, inky black, spilled all over his scroll.

Maedhros’ nose twitched. His right ear flicked. Oh yes. He was close to a chuckle now, he could tell. His dearly beloved big brother stood no fucking chance.

“Oh dear Eru, let my brother pay attention to - MANWË’S TITS!” Maglor shrieked, springing up from his seat after spotting a dark shadow peeking through the window.

His brother whirled around. Quick as a viper, his hand darted out to grasp the hilt of his sword. Despite this, Maglor could hear a choked noise he was more than halfway certain was the chuckle he had so desperately hunted. Oh well.

A chubby face stared right back at them, eyes round as saucers. Wait, make that two faces.

Both Maglor and Maedhros sagged with relief.

“Elros, can you please come in?” Maglor croaked, feeling five feet to the left of his physical body. “You too, Elrond.”

The two of them nodded bashfully, heads bobbing as they fumbled over to the glass. And they were… flapping. Each twin sported small brown wings on their back, looking much like the falcons Tyelko used to play with as a child. Maglor supposed, thinking of a great bird soaring away over the sea with light itself clutched tight in its talons, maybe they should have expected this one in particular.

Elros pushed once, twice at the windows, tiny arms straining against the pane and looking more panicked by the second. Behind him, Elrond simply pointed to the - oh, the window latch. Yes.

Maedhros stood up and flicked it open. Elros came tumbling through, nearly bashing his skull on the desk before Maedhros caught him midair.

Elrond flew in smoothly and landed on Maglor’s empty chair, wings neatly folding in. Maedhros dumped Elros on his own chair. His wing smacked Maedhros’ arm by mistake.

“We talked about this. No new shapeshifting without me or Maglor there,” Maedhros said, fixing each of them with a stern look.

Both the twins looked down at this. Elrond wrung his little wrists.

“We’re sorry!” Elros burst out, tears welling up in his eyes. “We won’t do it again, promise!”

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart,” Maglor told him.

“And the time before that,” Maedhros grumbled.

“What we’re saying, dear, is that we understand that you’re sorry. But keeping your word has to take first priority,” Maglor explained softly.

Maedhros coughed.

“Or, er, not doing it again,” Maglor corrected. “That’s what counts.”

“We understand,” Elros sniffled. “It’s just, we wanted to hear, but you weren’t there to check with, because well, you were here, and, well, um, yes -”

“Bringing us to the next point of order,” Maedhros rumbled. He raised a brow at both of them. “Eavesdropping. We have also been over this.”

Oh dear. Elros looked like he was about to drown in a puddle of tears. Maglor rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades soothingly, careful of the new feathery appendages.

Thankfully, Elrond stepped in. “We remember, it’s not nice because we like to be in private sometimes and it’s not fair for us to not let other people be too,” he recited shyly. “Um, we just… we know you both meet up a lot like this, and we know it's important… but… um…” His lip trembled; his voice cracked. “Do you... talk about us? Do you not want us to hear because it’s bad? Because we can do better!” He promised quickly, eyes wide and wet. “Elros is getting really good at his music lessons, he’s practicing a lot! And I’m working on my writing lessons every day!”

Something in Maglor’s chest twisted. “Oh, honey, no -”

But his brother beat him to the punch. Striding out from behind the desk, he knelt down in front of Elrond. “Can I hug you?” he asked very quietly.

Elrond bit his lip and nodded. Without another word, Maedhros wrapped him up in his arms.

They stayed like that for a moment, Maedhros’ hulking frame wrapped around Elrond’s body, like a drape of russet locks, leather and rich furs. When his brother finally pulled away, he gave a heavy look to both children.

“We will never give you away because you’re not good enough. Alright? You will always be good enough. Both of you,” he told them. He reached out and covered Elrond’s tiny hand with his own, fingers curling around and intertwining. “And not because you’re caught up on your lessons, or do what we say.”

“Though those are certainly nice,” Maglor added. He flashed them a teasing grin before taking care to soften his expression once more, and laid a gentle hand on Elros’ shoulder. “You will always have our love. And nothing, not even the worst jam spill, or missed harp lesson - don’t think I didn’t notice that last week, dearest - can ever reach in and steal it. It is your’s by blood and birthright.”

“Love you,” Elros sniffled. Elrond echoed him, voice no less wobbly.

Maedhros gifted them with a small smile. “Love you both, starlights.”

“And -” Elros started, hiccuped, and continued. “And same for me too. Nothing can change that! I’ll always love you two.”

Maglor felt a pang of sickly guilt invade his chest and looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maedhros stiffen.

“Me too,” Elrond said, voice suddenly clear. Maglor glanced at him and met a gaze that seemed years ahead of its time; he froze, rooted to the spot. “We’ll always love you no matter what you do.”

“Well -” Maglor started. “That’s…”

“No need to worry about us,” Maedhros recovered quickly, waving his hand. “Now then, it’s nearing bedtime, hm?”

“But wait!” Elros cried. “What were you two talking about then?”

“Yes! We saw Atya going like this,” Elrond clasped his pudgy hands together and shook them. “And his voice sounded all funny, and then he prayed to Eru about Atar paying more attention to Manwe’s t-”

“ALRIGHT!” Maglor yelped, clapping his hands. His face must’ve been steaming, his cheeks were burning, oh stars - “Bedtime!”

“But we want to know why you were saying all those funny things,” Elros complained loudly. His voice slipped into a high pitched whine, dripping with petulance. “Nelyo, Nelyo, give me attentioooon -”

“I do not sound like that!” Maglor gasped, scooping up a giggling Elrond to be carried to bed.

“I do not sound like that!”

Maglor turned around, gaping. That was not Elros’ voice.

Maedhros stared back. His eyes glinted with mirth and the most shit-eating grin curled his lips. In his arms was a starstruck Elros, who looked no less shocked than if the clouds themselves had just burst into song and danced a lively jig. And quite frankly, Maglor would be less surprised.

Maedhros dealt him one last smirk before twirling on his heel and walking out of the room to go deposit one elfling in his bed. Maglor still had the other, who poked his cheek.

“Atya? Are you okay?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Maglor felt a smile grow across his face. His eyes stung with tears. He quickly wiped them with his sleeve before they could fatten and spill over his cheeks and probably make Elrond worry even more.

“Wonderful, dear.” He frowned for a second, considering. “Although I think there is a dreadful amount of mockery in my future.”

He looked down at Elrond. His son merely tilted his round head, offering a blank look. Maglor sighed happily. “But that’s okay.”

XXX

In time, it became clear that there was no need to worry about the looming threat of brotherly teasing paid back in full; Maedhros may have been looser with his laughter, but even this was a rare occasion still. Maglor did not mind, for any time he saw his brother’s eyes alight with anything other than fatal passion was a gift.

The true threat that lurked within Amon Ereb made itself known eventually.

Two weeks later, Maglor was scurrying to meet up with one of the smiths to discuss pending repairs but stopped short in front of a small figure in the courtyard blocking his path.

“Not now, sweetheart, Atya’s very busy,” Maglor told Elrond, harried, ready to flag down someone on the way to attend to whatever his son needed.

And then it happened. Elrond’s face crumpled just so. His eyes widened: big, round, and wet. His lip wobbled. When he opened his mouth, his voice took on a tone so absolutely, horribly pitiful that Maglor half-suspected the echo of Lúthien herself lived in his words.

“Please, Atya,” he begged, every word a death sentence. “Give me attentiooon.”

Oh Eru, Maglor despaired, even as he opened his arms for an evil little elfling to leap into, repairs forgotten. I’ve made a monster.

#this was also my first go at writing more humor #but the hurt/comfort managed to sneak in #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #my writing #writing prompts #fic #jaz-the-bard

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