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#i have to wait and watch the delicious KNOWING mutual pining going on now. before they were both oblivious but NOW?????? oh its gonna be so
loverofallthingssmart · 9 months
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RUNS IN HERE BC JANINE AND GREGORY DIDNT GET TOGETHER I CANT BELIEVE THE SLOW BURN IS SLOW
LMAOO IT DRIVES ME SOOO INSANE OFF THE WALLS MY GOD!!!!
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tender-rosiey · 2 years
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hi!! may i request a nanami drabble with mutual pining? tysm <3
“pastry” — nanami kento x gn!reader
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a/n: just watched the movie “hush” and safe to say my heart did not handle that very well
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“so I told him to shut the hell up and go eat— are you listening, nanami?”
he nods and smiles, “you were saying that you told him to shut the hell up and to eat shit, I presume?”
“yes! exactly that!” you beam, “you can figure out anything!”
he shakes his head, “it’s not that hard really,” his gaze falls on a bakery shop and you notice that so you smirk.
“is dear nanami in dire need of some bread?”
“you make it sound like I am a kid in need of his daily dose candy,” he sighs.
“so like gojo?”
“yes, which is very insulting so let’s refrain from comparing me to that man—not even man just child.”
you hum, suddenly speeding up to get there first while nanami can only watch in amusement.
“WOAH! nanami! nanami! nanami!” you happily call, gazing at the baked goods longingly.
he is soon by your side to see what caught your eye, “I already heard you the first time, but what is it?”
your eyes sparkle as you smile at him, “doesn’t it look delicious?”
“it does, but I would prefer a different filling,” he says and you nod, gaze snapping back to the pastry. he then speaks up, “do you want it?”
“yes yes!!” you yell and reach in your pockets for money, and you start patting around only to deflate at the discovery you made.
meanwhile, nanami is waiting patiently for you, “have you…?”
“I have…forgot my wallet,” you mumble and sigh, “so long, friend,” you say placing your cheek on the glass separating you from the beautiful thing.
you hear the sound of a cashier ting, and you turn to nanami who’s recieving his purchase, “nanami! you bought something?”
he nods and you sigh, “can you show me what you bought?”
“sure,” he hums before handing the bag to you.
you open it up, only to find the pastry you chose inside it.
you look up at him and he merely gestures with his hand, “it’s for you.”
you gently put it aside before latching onto your pastry buyer and screaming about how grateful you are, but he only pats you on the back, murmuring, “y/n, please, people are watching.”
“BUT YOU GOT IT FOR ME!” you say but you pause, “you got it for me..?”
he places a hand on top of your head and nods, “you looked like you really wanted it and a few yens wouldn’t make that much of a difference to me.”
“wait nanami! i told you to never pay for me!”
“this was my decision, it’s fine,” he insists and you huff.
“I will pay you back,” you deadpan, but he shakes his head.
“no need,” he replies.
you groan, “I know this is part of your ‘I am a gentleman package’, but I can’t possibly let you do this without paying me back.”
nanami ponders for a moment and settles on something, “may I request a payback with something other than money?”
“sure,” you smile and wait for his suggestion.
instead, what you feel is a kiss placed on your forehead that goes as quickly as it came.
when you’re brought back to reality, all you see is the back of the man who payed for your pastry, but also the man that had stolen your heart months ago.
you, however, can’t see the soft smile on his face, but it seems to nanami that his heart was also stolen by you for quite sometime now.
“nanami! wait don’t leave me alone!”
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Can you please write more Hondo?
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Finish what you start
Hondo Ohnaka x Fem! Reader
Summary: Hondo Ohnaka catches you pleasuring yourself in his absence.
Word count: 3k+
Warnings: Masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, pining, blowjobs.
Notes: I wrote a fanfic like this for Shriv Suurgav and decided I wanted to try the same scenario for Hondo. Cad Bane may be next! Let's make it a series! ;D Shoutout to @allsystemsblue and @downrightembarassing for cheering me on and letting me bounce ideas off them - we all agree Hondo smells fabulous and practices good hygiene.
*This will probably be the last time I can post a fic before moving, but I have another Hondo one shot in the works - stay tuned! ;D
P.S.: I POSTED THIS FROM BATUU (Yes, I waited. I’m literally in line for Smuggler’s Run this very minute and they are talking about Hondo on the comm. 😭😭)
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For once, you were bored. Florrum was all fun and games until the ringmaster of this circus abandoned his big top - Hondo Ohnaka had left you stranded by your lonesome in his lair with some dozen Weequay whose names you could not recall. You wandered its dingy corridors, dined on its sumptuous and delicious foods, drank of its rare and expensive beverages, and even sampled the more local fare – the green ooze known as “pirate’s brew” was an acquired taste and your palate preferred lush, full-bodied wine. Luckily for you, there was plenty to go around and then some, yet Ohnaka’s men did not seem all too pleased that you were there.
However, this did not bother you, going so far as to stick your tongue out in disrespect to one burly pirate who would not stop giving you the stink-eye. You were immune, as Hondo had long ago instructed them to give you anything your heart desired, one additional rule being that no harm should come to you as long as you resided within these halls.
Still, that did not mean it was their job to entertain you – that was Hondo’s area of expertise – and currently your jester king had decided it was best to leave you in the dark on his present whereabouts.
No doubt his exploits were dangerous and full of thrills. You were a mite jealous, wondering if one day he might take you along, or, if  on another day he might simply tire of you. He was a fickle lord, and you were his lady  - at least for now, and you were well aware your good fortune might come to a hasty end.
But, in that moment, you found yourself to be missing him. Hondo had been gone two days already and no other being on this dust ball of a planet wanted to give you the time of day.
After imbibing more than your fair share of drink for the evening, you retreated to your quarters – Hondo’s quarters – desiring nothing more than to be held tightly in his arms. You sighed deeply, knowing that you were not to get your way.
As your inebriation caught up to you, you sashayed forward, though the scourge of the galaxy was not here to watch you sway your hips. You fell face first onto the bed for the sake of playing into your own imaginary holodrama; you guessed you must appear to his crew like a forsaken hound waiting for its master to return.
Oh, but that is when you caught his scent, the Weequay’s sweet-smelling pheromones mingling with his cologne. The man was a fop for lack of a better word, his personal hygiene at the top of his priorities list. You were thankful for it; he smelled like dreams made of candy, dark undertones of something more sultry and seductive comingling together with sugar and spice, though you could never put your finger on what exactly it was he liked to wear.
You took a deep inhalation, burying your nose in the blankets and sheets beneath you as you let a dejected noise escape, wishing so badly that it was his crimson coat beneath your groping hands and not his ornate coverlet. Still, even in his absence, his heavenly aroma had roused within you a sleeping giant, one that demanded to be attended to – a sudden, all-encompassing lust that you were afraid would not be quieted lest you do something to ward it off.
But you could not pry yourself free of your plush prison, doomed by the provocative fragrance that had already flooded your nostrils. You flipped your body over to stare at the ceiling, all thoughts replaced by your truant pirate king. His toothy golden smile, the butter smooth intonations of his voice – it was the auditory equivalent of velvet, those sweet nothings he whispered in your ear enough to set your loins on fire.
Just thinking about it had already prompted your body to react as if preparing itself for the man’s admittance. You groaned at your desperation for him, somewhere between annoyed at yourself and in dire need of his patented affections. Instead, you took to hiking up your skirt, your own fingers sliding beneath the hem of your panties -  you were honestly surprised with how wet you already were.
You cursed his name as your writhed gently atop his luxurious bed, not bothering to even lock the door, though you were sure no one would dare disturb you - not that they cared to, anyway; you were positive the rest of Hondo’s men preferred it when you kept to yourself.
You gently massaged your clit, taking your time with yourself, mind focused on the idea of Hondo mounting you, his cock so unbelievably flawless you wished he was there to ram it inside you. He would do anything you asked; he would give it to you any way you might be keen to try, for Ohnaka was not one to skimp on lovemaking as he liked to call it.
You giggled to yourself before it turned into a moan; you were so entranced with your daydreaming that you did not hear the door slide open or the act of your beloved sitting himself down in a chair that was located just adjacent to the bed. Had you noticed, you would have seen the grin etched onto his striated face, Hondo settling in by way of a leg tossed casually over one of the chair’s two arms.
With eyes closed, you bit into your lip, turning your head in your self-sought pleasure to make yourself more comfortable. As you opened them once more you gasped, though you made no other sudden movements, having been caught red-handed by the scoundrel as he carefully scrutinized you with slanted, stormy greys.
“Please, continue,” he stated nonchalantly, though his mood was difficult to determine by his tone.
With your mouth open in shock, you simply stared at him; that was his cue to lean ever so slightly forward, Hondo’s eyes gleaming from beneath rectangular cuts of transparisteel as the grin he wore coiled into something a tad more lascivious.
“What are you tinking about?” he questioned, quickly followed by another query. “Es et me?” Then, he answered himself on the next beat, even as you continued to gaze straight through his goggles into slatey irises. “Of course et es.”
You moved to rise, barely lifting your neck before Hondo interjected a command: “Ap-ap-ap! Stay right dere, my dear. You must finish what you started.”
You gave him your best pout, but he was not convinced to interfere, motioning with a dismissive wave of one hand for you to proceed with touching yourself as he stayed seated before you. Observing that you chose to remain immobile, he had an idea.
“Let me add some reality tu dis fantasy of yours,” he quipped, rising to turn on some music that he favored.
The man began to dance, removing his signature coat one sleeve at a time for it to be tossed haphazardly onto the back of his chair. It was obvious he was making a show of it, putting no real effort into the act of being seductive, though his hands traveled the expanse of his own torso, waist, and hips before he sillily flipped his braids over the edges of his shoulders.
You couldn’t help but to laugh as you kept laying there, Hondo halting his performance abruptly to press a hand to the center of his chest. He scoffed, asking you something in a tone indicative of offense, yet you were sure he was only kidding: “You dare laugh at me? Am I not sexy tu you?”
Your giggling paused, Hondo walking away from you and back toward the seat he had vacated earlier. “Den you entertain me,” he said with finality.
Your lips trembled; he was always so hard to read, the pirate’s true nature still a mystery to you. Presently, you kept your gaze trained on the man as you cried a pathetic sound of longing. He was not impressed, that one leg kicking itself back up as he idly stroked the frills along his jowls.
“Come, my love,” he encouraged you with a sudden change in his disposition, his somewhat confusing demeanor melting away as it was replaced with something softer and more genteel. “Touch yourself for Hondo.”
That was all it took, at once your body’s arousal rekindling as you began to fondle the little nub between your legs.
“Yes, yes, just like dat, little one,” he complimented, his words urging you to refocus your attention.
He watched you for a time, Hondo’s own carnality easily being activated by the study of just how you chose to caress your little cluster of nerve-endings; they were housed between flower petals of flesh and blood, the pirate beginning to feel a twitch down below his beltline.
“Now, imagine my fingers gently exploring de curve of your waist, de … soft tissue of your breasts, hm? Maybe my tongue would like tu explore as well, ah?” he crooned, his voice low and licentious.
The pirate was deliberately working you, even as his own hand came to rest against the outside of his trousers. His cock jumped at the first sign of acknowledgement, as if just as greedy as the minx upon his bed to be stroked and coddled, which was not out of the realm of possibility.
You quivered on his lavish sheets, the fodder with which he was feeding your depravity effortlessly invading your mind’s eye. How you wished he would just shut up and actually touch you, yet you stopped yourself from voicing your sentiments out loud.
“Maybe et would like tu work at suckling dose exquisite tits,” he mused. “Or perhaps et would like tu very, very slowly invade your mouth for a most warm and wet kiss.” He punctuated the last word of his sentence just so, his statement having a questioning lilt, as if he were also curious what he might do should he allow himself access to your pleasing form.
“Hm, yes-” he started, his tone turning a shade darker, “-et might swirl and flitter with yours, plunging far, far down your throat, so deep dat you will never forget de feeling.”
His teasing sent shivers up your arms and down your legs, radiating outward from your core as you wriggled like a pinned insect among folds of deluxe bedding, your body aching for release.
You were so lost in his dirty talk that you failed to notice Hondo unbuckling his belt; it was emblazed with the symbol of his gang, though for now it lay slack to either side as he carefully unbuttoned his trousers to remove his cock from its cloth imprisonment.
“Ah, but remember, I will not be satisfied with just. one. taste,” Hondo reminded you, his long, ring-bedecked fingers beginning to caress the length of his prick as he settled more snugly in his seat.
“I would trade en lips above for lips below,” he whispered throatily, his words a deep rumbling in his chest. The pirate began seeking his own high, eyelids drifting to half-mast as he leisurely thumbed the head of his hardened cock.
Your teeth returned to tug at plump flesh as you ever so slightly quickened your pace, the increasing friction of your fingertips gliding vertically over your throbbing bud causing you to expel a pitiful mewl. You looked over to your king, at once whining your disapproval – you wanted to be the one handling his cock.
Still, the sight only aroused you further, but not as much as the next few utterances that passed beyond the witty thief’s gilded teeth.
“My tongue tracing de folds of your cunt - and ah - you are already so wet, aren’t you?” he asked, though he had not expected any sort of answer from you.
You gave him one anyway, breathing out an airy “yes” which he ignored, but a discerning eye could see the hint of a smirk smugly twitching at the corner of his thin-lipped mouth.
“Et sweeps across your slit, delving inside you. Maybe et tickles, but ah, et feels so good.” He placed his hand more succinctly around his girth, beginning to pump himself by way of an enclosed fist, Hondo deciding to take part in this daydream to the fullest extent.
“Mm, but I pay de most attention tu de little button dat resides at de tippy-tip-top. Dat es your favorite part,” he mused, the visual aid of him eating you out causing you to whine in yearning as you fretted all by your lonesome on his bed.
“I would flick-flick-flick your clit with de utmost precision and care,” he assured you, “lapping up every. bit. of pleasure you so graciously proffer me.” He hummed to himself for a moment, relishing the perfect speed at which he had taken to addressing his own needs.
“Den I would suck et between my lips, continuing tu dine on you as if you were a delicious meal I must consume. And my dear, you are,” he confirmed, as if there had ever been any doubt.
You moaned again as you were close to the brink, your constant rubbing in addition to Hondo’s narration of your masturbation session nearly having worked its magic. You kept your gaze trained on the man and his decidedly pretty dick, pining for it to be snug within your walls. It was as if the scoundrel read your mind, picking up his tale where your imagination had left off.
“Now dat you are so very ready for me, darling, I would take de plunge. Oh, and you take et, so, so well. Every inch es so satisfying, hm?” He subsequently snickered, peering at you from across the way with drowsy eyes.
“Your desire for me es practically palpable, little bird,” he announced despite it being obvious, yet your thoughts did not wander far from the imagery he had placed inside your head even as he playfully derided you.
Hondo picked up his tempo, palming the full breadth of his cock as he envisioned himself steeping his stout prick in and out of you, your depths warm and slippery with your excess.
You had sulkily frowned in agreement, your breath quickening as you approached the edge of your orgasm. Nearly there, your hips gently bucked beneath the soft fabric of your dress, your heart anxious for the pirate to stop narrating and start fucking you until you couldn’t walk straight.
Instead, you were left to your own devices, Hondo apparently close as well as his storytelling capabilities were dwindling, though he still had sense and wits enough about him to weave the next bit of his risqué yarn.
“So slow at first, just a steady en and out, like de ebb and flow of an ocean on some distant, watery planet.” 
“Mmn, mhmm,” was all you had the capacity to say in return.
“I hit all de right angles, for I always do. And you know dis,” he confirmed. “Back and forth, deeper and longer strokes, all de while my deft fingers massage your pretty pearl.”
He beamed at you, his smile brighter than the highly charged particles dispelled at lightspeed off the backs of ion engines, though you were only half cognizant by now of your surroundings.
“And den,” he added simply, “you will cum for me.”
The low notes spoken in that deep baritone, the glint in his glacial grey eyes behind his ever present goggles – you unraveled at the seams as Hondo praised your obedience to his surprisingly well-timed command.
“What a good girl you are,” he concluded.
Delectable mewls escaped your lips in intervals, the air stored inside your lungs expelled in spurts along with them; your hips gyrated gingerly in place of their own volition as you rode the wave of pleasure to its end.
Hondo all the while studied you as he unabashedly continued to guide himself toward the finish line, using the beautiful visual before him to assist him in this process. Then, the Weequay hummed once more; it was a little melody you did not recognize and meant for no one but himself.
You relaxed for all but ten seconds, feeling your own body lose its tension as the breathing of your lover increased its rapidity and fervor; he was about to climax — you refused to let him, not without your aid — you would be damned if you didn’t have your way.
He had his, after all.
You sat up straight, gathering the edges of your skirt so as not to trip as you launched yourself theatrically forward. You tumbled purposefully onto your knees, though making an effort not to bruise yourself, the pirate’s askant eyes expanding before instantaneously contracting. Gold teeth were exposed as he eagerly watched you collect his cock, his upper lip curling outward to add a smidge of something villainous to his expression.
Oh, but it quickly faded from his handsome face as you imbibed his member to the base of its shaft, your tongue running semicircles around raised ribs before you puckered your cheeks to suck greedily to your heart’s content. You sighed languorously at the feeling of it brushing against the back of your throat, murmuring a happy sound as you knew he would not last long.
Hondo’s breath hitched in his lungs before he lifted one hand to fiddle with your hair, mind clouded with buzzing thoughts as he tried to get a handle on his speech.
“So eager,” he muttered, tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek with the back of his index finger. Thick quadriceps tightened, overall the Weequay’s muscles clenching before your mouth finally received the prize it sought.
Hondo’s body slowly unwound itself, decompressing with every pump of semen that shot to the back of your throat, lithe digits remaining to lovingly pet your locks as he gazed down into your eyes — you were staring up at him as you guzzled every last drop he had to give, your muscles working overtime to usher his ejaculate down into your belly for safekeeping.
“And so very thirsty,” he purred, dick still sporadically lurching as you drained him dry. He was not one to tap out, but you were capable of detecting when the man was spent. You skimmed the head of his cock with your tongue for good measure, licking up any that had managed to dribble down.
“You. are. magnificent,” Hondo extolled, failing at first to regain his equilibrium. However, he was not exactly in a hurry, more than willing to sit here a while longer than anticipated.
“You left me,” you puled, kissing the mushroom tip of his alien phallus before you laid it to rest against his spreadeagled thighs. You kissed those, too, fingers traveling over what felt like solid rock, pouting as the pirate gently lifted up both your hands to cradle between his own.
“And for good reason!” Hondo declared with renewed vigor, planting his lips against the center of your palm. Then, he released you, moving to adjust his genitals and to refasten his pants.
“Come, let me tell you a story over a proper drink-” he chuckled, “-see if we can curtail dat insatiable thirst of yours, my dear.”
You accepted his invitation, more than thrilled to keep him company, and, if you played your cards right, you were sure you could convince him for another round – drinks or otherwise.
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izupie · 1 year
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1 and 21 for the fanfic ask game, and 🕯️ and 🌸 for the wip game!!!
aaaa thank you for the questions !! ❤️❤️❤️
game 1:
1. favorite fanfiction trope?
okay at the moment (because it changes often) probably mutual pining with something like there was only one bed or fake dating. (I'm picking multiple tropes because they have to be together sshhhh) the pining must be mutual they must be oblivious idiots and they must be put into a situation that makes their pining almost painful to read because they both love each other and don't. even. realise. it. to be truly *chefs kiss* delicious. But if it doesn't end in with them getting together I don't want to see it - I need requited love and resolved sexual tension to go with all that pining yearning crying.
21. what fandom/pairing do you keep going back to?
No matter how long I've been away I always seem to go back to the Izuocha corner of the MHA fandom. I don't interact with the fandom at large, and I don't really interact much with that little pocket fandom either - but I can't help myself from writing the odd Izuocha fic from time to time. They're a comfort pair to write and I miss them when I haven't written them in a while.
game 2:
🕯️: Share a scene in your latest WIP
“Are you kidding? Izuku, you’re famous – you could ask anyone if you could sit next to them and they’d be happy to have you there. See? Everyone keeps looking at you – I think they’d be excited if you sat with them.”
Panic flashed briefly across Izuku’s face and Ochako waved her hands in the air as she added in a fluster, “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean that to freak you out! Not something to say to someone who’s only just revealed their identity, huh? Probably why you stayed anonymous in the first place, and I go and put my foot in my mouth again!”
“I-It’s okay.”
“No it’s- wait! I know a place we can go! Here, come with me.” Ochako didn’t wait for a reply before she leaned forwards, gripped Izuku’s wrist with a brief encouraging smile, and tugged gently.
Izuku allowed himself to be pulled along as Ochako turned around and led him through the room. She was right about the employees – she could see them watching Izuku as they went. Not that she blamed them. But Izuku was nervous enough without the extra attention right now.
She kept her grip to his wrist as they wound back through the stacks of books in the warehouse, though she had to resist the impulse to slide it down to his hand.
🌸 - What’s your favorite AU?
ohhh that's a tough one. I can be extremely picky about AUs. I do love a good coffee shop AU (doesn't everyone?) because I just think they're always cosy and cute. But I also like the occasional Wildly Different AU - something like, one of the characters is some kind of creature like a werewolf or merfolk or something. they're always fun. oooh! Witch/Familiar AUs are always good. Loooove that dynamic and the magic and stuff.
omg I just had an epiphany. literal galaxy brain moment. if I combined all of these into one that would be my ultimate AU. oh heck !!!!! now I want to write that so so so bad. I'm just gonna. gonna grab some paper. and make some notes immediately asdfghjklk;
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holylulusworld · 2 years
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Unwilling Bride
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Summary: You are a brat and won’t give in that easily. If he wants you, he’ll have to work for it.
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: language, bratty reader, arranged marriage, implied smut, cocky Bucky, mutual pining, the reader is a stubborn bitch, but she loves her mobster
Divider by @firefly-graphics
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“What kind of dress are you looking for?” the salesgirl coos, eying your fiancé up and down. Said man is busy looking around the bridal shop, a content smile on his lips.
Whilst Bucky wants to find the perfect dress for his bride, you couldn’t care less.
You shrug, groaning as Bucky swoons about your planned wedding, the cake you will taste later and the food he’ll order only for you.
“I don’t care—” the girl pales. She gasps as you roll your eyes. “I’m not going to marry that douche so, so I don’t care.”
“Ignore my sweet fiancé,” Bucky slings his arm around your waistline to guide you toward the wedding gown he found last week. “We want the sparkle tulle A-line gown with sweetheart bodice over there.” He insists, pointing at a beautiful dress. Of course, you would never tell Bucky you would’ve chosen the same dress.
“Oh, Sir! That’s one of the most expensive dresses in our collection,” she squeaks. “Maybe you should look for a different one.”
Bucky doesn’t batt an eyelash. He guides you toward the dress, already imagining your first dance as Mr. and Mrs. James Buchanan Barnes.
“Do I look like I care? I want that dress for my girl,” cocking his head to get a better look at the dress he smirks. “You’ll look so beautiful, doll. Try it on.”
“Like hell,” you groan, eyeing the dress up and down, “if you want me to try it on, you’ll leave the shop.”
“It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony, Sir,” the girl jumps in. 
“What? No! I want to see her face light up when she tries it on,” Bucky grumbles, sulking like an angry child. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s your wedding,” smirking you look at Bucky, raising one eyebrow. “If you want to ruin it, go ahead and watch me try the dress on. I don’t care about the wedding and crap. I will not marry you, Barnes.”
“Fine,” he throws his hands up, muttering something you can’t understand. “I’ll be waiting for you outside. Give the dress a chance.”
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One hour later you leave the bridal shop, the dress Bucky chose in your hands as he leans lazily against the limousine waiting for you. “Already done? No fitting needed?” He smirks as you hand him the dress. “Dress. Check.” 
“Can we go home now? I’m hungry and tired,” you pout, holding out your hand for Bucky to help you back inside the limousine. “Such a gentleman. No wonder daddy wants me to marry you.”
“He wants me to marry you to get you off his back,” Bucky curses under his breath as you climb into the limousine. “I’m not complaining, though. Still the sweetest girl I ever met. If only she would shut her mouth once in a while…”
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“I don’t care—” you huff as the guy at the cake shop offers you some cake. “He will decide for a cake, like with everything else. I bet he’ll choose the dark chocolate with alcohol for his friends.”
“No,” Bucky moans at the taste of the cake he just tried. “We will take the apricot rose buttercream cake. I know it’s my girl’s favorite. She would never admit the cake was delicious, though.” He watches you frown at his words.
You didn’t recognize Bucky watched you the whole time. “Fine, choose that one then,” crossing your arms over your chest you try to tame your wildly beating heart.
“And some of the red-velvet cupcakes with vanilla frosting,” Bucky adds, smiling softly.
“UH—what he said,” nodding you fight a smile. Bucky knew right away you want the apricot cake. “I guess we are done here.”
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“Steak or fish,” searching your face Bucky sighs. “Doll, can you not try to pretend you are having fun tasting the food? I hired a cook for us. Now, chicken or lobster?” 
“Do you want me to fake I’m having fun?” laughing you ram your fork into the chicken to taste it. “Like I fake my orgasms with you?” the look in his eyes screams murder, but the twitch in his hands tells you he’s going to make you cum so hard tonight you’ll pass out on Bucky.
“DOLL!” the poor guy serving you the food chokes on-air as he fights to not drop the plates. “Can you just not? I’m a patient man but you are getting on my nerves.”
“Aw, do you want to spank my ass now?” smirking darkly you steal the last bite of Bucky’s chicken. “Come on, Barnes. Don’t you want to bend me over the table and slap my bum?”
“I want to do so many things to you, doll,” he dips his head to eye you up and down. “Maybe we should send the cook home and I show you a thing or two.”
“Maybe,” the hunger in Bucky’s eyes makes you gulp hard, and your panties dampen, “or maybe not. I can’t decide, Barnes. You forced me to eat cake all day and to choose a dress. I don’t think you deserve to make me cum.”
“Sweet thing,” he places his hands onto the table, slowly folding them, a smirk on his lips, “I didn’t say I’ll make you cum…”
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“See, you can be a good girl. At least after I made you cum thrice,” watching you move to the edge of the bed Bucky smirks. “I can see your cute naked ass, doll. How about you come a little closer and let me hold you. It’s only you and me. Just stop acting like you hate me, Y/N.”
“I hate you,” you mutter, but turn around to move a little closer to Bucky’s side. “You agreed to this marriage crap. I wanted to travel the world, not become a housewife and mother.”
“Babe, I want to see more of the world too before we turn into suburban parents,” he laughs as you scoot closer to rest your head onto his chest. “Admit it, the sex is good.”
“You ain’t that bad,” patting Bucky’s chest you sigh. “I just don’t want to end up like Steve’s girl, pregnant after two months into their marriage. I know he’s old-fashioned but—”
“We can fuck like rabbits and not get pregnant yet, baby,” Bucky stops you, midsentence; smirking as you move your hand to his cock. 
“Don’t lie to me!” you warn, eyes narrowing. “I dare you to lie to me!”
“I want to become a dad sooner or later, but not now. I took over my father’s organization not a year ago. People fear me, but I want more. Let’s rule this town together before we have little Buckys run around the mansion.”
“Fine but,” you smirk, looking up at Bucky, “you should know I’ll try to run on our wedding day. You better wear running shoes, Barnes. I’m damn fast.”
“Doll, I will capture you no matter what. You are going to wear my ring,” he husks. “Now, who is going to tell your father he’ll not get grandchildren any time soon?”
>> Part 2
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harrylovex · 3 years
Text
SPIN THE BOTTLE
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summary: chris is shy around you until he gets drunk...
warnings: fluff, kissing, alcohol usage, chris being handsy ;)
a/n: playing spin the bottle with chris would just be a dream 😩😩😩 especially if there is sexual tension between the two of you, gaaaawwwdd this is what i’m dreaming about tonight
it was your friend emily’s 35th birthday and she was having a huge party at her house.
everyone you knew was going, including your favourite person in the whole world, chris evans.
you two had been introduced to eachother at a summer barbecue a few years back by emily, and you had been pining after him pretty much since then.
you and him had hung out with eachother a few times at other gatherings and you got on really well, but chris was shy around you.
he was reserved around everyone really, it had nothing to do with you. it was his nature.
but, when he would get drunk, it would be like something in him switched. his shyness would completely disappear and he became the life of the party.
you knew that chris secretly did like you, he would never admit it sober though. on the occasions when he would get drunk, which was pretty much every party, he would get really handsy with you.
he would keep you with him all the time, holding your hand and squeezing your hips, pulling you onto his lap whenever he sat down. he liked to be protective over you, and you cherised every minute of it. it was the only time when you could be close to him.
a few times, chris had kissed you, taking you by surprise. it would usually happen when you had to leave, a long goodbye kiss, his hands grabbing at your waist as he moaned into your mouth.
both of you remembered everything that happened when you were drunk, but it was never brought up.
you had never met anyone nicer than chris. he was incredibly charming and down to earth, always thinking of other people before himself, not to mention unbearably handsome and sexy.
emily knew how much you liked chris, she had spoken to him about it before, asking him questions about you, but he was never one to talk about his feelings. he liked to keep it private.
you turned up to emily’s and her husband opened the door, greeting you.
you stepped inside, eyes landing on emily in the kitchen. you made your way over to her.
“happy birthday!” you embraced her in a hug, shoving her present into her hands.
“y/n thank you so much! let me get you a drink.”
she led you over to the drinks table, pointing to an array of wines. as she prepared you a glass, your eyes scanned the room.
“no point in looking for chris. he’s not here yet.”
you blushed, embarrassed at being caught. emily just laughed, handing you the glass.
“i’m making us all play some fun college games tonight. it’s time you and chris got together.”
you laughed, wondering what she was planning.
you spoke to a few of your friends, catching up on what had been going on in their lives.
“chris! hey you look great!”
you had your back turned to the door, but you knew by the sound of chris’ voice that he had just arrived. your palms started to turn a little sweaty.
pull yoursef together y/n, you thought to yourself.
you quickly finished your conversation, turning to find chris.
he was by the bar cart, grabbing a beer. he was wearing a white long sleeved t-shirt and some blue jeans. the t-shirt was insanely tight and left little to the imagination.
you inhaled deeply before walking towards him. he caught your eye before stepping towards you.
“y/n hey! long time no see!” his eyes lit up, embracing you in a huge hug.
you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. you shut your eyes for a moment, taking in the feeling of his body pressed against yours, his hands squeezing your hips slightly.
“how have you been?” you asked, leaning beside him on the counter.
“busy with work, i’ve been looking forward to this party for ages.”
your conversation flowed easily as he sipped his beer. he asked about your work and your family until a few other guests arrived.
throughout the rest of the evening, you mingled with your friends, sipping through a few glasses of wine.
the lounge was crowded with people, all chatting happily. you peeked at chris a few times, seeing him laugh at a joke emily’s husband was telling.
he caught your eye sometimes, smiling cheekily at you as he raised his sixth beer bottle of the night, poking his tongue out before swallowing the liquid.
you realised that the alcohol had reached his system around an hour later when you felt a pair of hands slide over your hips, soft lips kissing your ear. you were leaning elbow-first against the island in the kitchen, your back to everyone else.
you smiled to yourself before turning around, knowing that you would find yourself face to face with chris.
the feeling of his lips against your ear tickled, making you laugh. you spun yourself around, holding onto his biceps as his hands rested on the counter on each side of you.
“chris you are so drunk!”
he smirked, licking his lips. his eyes were incredibly dilated, his cheeks rosy.
“so...? i’m having fun.”
“i can tell...why have you taken a sudden interest in me then? had enough of everyone else?”
“well, everyone is super boring, and i haven’t spoken to you in a few hours. plus, i like talking to pretty girls like you.”
you laughed, moving your hands from his biceps to his chest.
“you have no filter when you’re drunk.”
he smiled, grabbing your hand in his.
“i need to go for a piss, come with me?”
“ugh chris, you sure do know how to impress a girl with that language.”
“so is that a no?” he pouted.
“i never said that.” you mumbled, making him smirk.
he grasped your hand tighter, pulling you upstairs towards the bathroom.
you fixed your hair in the mirror while chris relieved himself, laughing at him when he nearly fell over.
you stood to the side as he washed his hands, staring at him through the mirror.
once he had finished, he pulled you towards him, burying his face in your neck as he gripped your hips.
“god you smell so delicious.” he mumbled.
“so do you.” you smiled, running your hands through his hair.
“and you look gorgeous in that dress, it’s making me go crazy.”
you laughed, pulling chris’ face up so you could see his eyes.
“chris you would never say or do any of this if you were sober.”
“haven’t you ever heard of that saying? sober thoughts are drunk words. i can never bring myself to do this stuff when i’m sober, i get shy easily.” his eyes darted from yours for a second.
“well there’s no need for that, you must know by now that this thing we’ve got going on is mutual right?”
he laughed, nodding.
“i guess yeah, the things we do drunk you never mentioned afterwards so i just sort of put it to the back of my mind.”
“i never mentioned it because i know how shy you are when you’re sober.”
“okay well, we’ll talk about this later yeah? work something out.”
you smiled, pulling at his ears. “fine.”
he entwined his hand with yours again, pulling you out of the bathroom.
just as you walked out, emily came rushing up the stairs.
“guys! we’ve been looking everywhere for you...” she paused, looking at your hands suspiciously. “did you just have sex in my bathroom?” she smirked.
“no!” you said defensively.
chris just smirked.
“whatever...come down to the lounge, the foods here.”
you walked behind emily, swatting at chris’ hands when he tried to pinch your butt everytime you took a step down.
you grabbed yourself another glass of wine, silently watching as chris got himself another beer, he was going to have such a hangover tomorrow.
you went to sit yourself down at the table, but not before chris grabbed your waist, pulling you up.
“what are you doing?”
“i want you to sit with me.” he pouted.
“you’re such a simp.”
he laughed, not seeming bothered by your comment.
you sat next to him throughout dinner, using a single fork to feed yourself as chris had occupied himself with holding your left hand in his lap.
you smiled as you ate, hoping that tonight could be the night when he got over his fear of being embarrassed to show affection when sober.
everyone chatted through dinner, not bothered by you and chris being affectionate. they were used to it by now.
afterwards, emily ordered everyone to sit in a circle in the lounge. no one protested because they were all pretty much drunk, going along with the game.
chris pulled you into his lap, kissing your temple.
“you two, no sitting-in-laps allowed. not for this game anyway.”
you laughed, moving to sit next to chris. he wasn’t happy about the seating change, pulling you as close to him as he could.
“okay i’ve been reminiscing about the good old college days, so tonight we’re gonna play spin the bottle.”
some of the guests groaned, rolling their eyes.
you looked at chris, but he just winked at you.
emily placed one of the empty beer bottles in the middle of the circle, spinning it quickly.
you watched as it spun round, everyone silently waiting.
it landed on john, who was sitting across from you. the guests um’ed and ah’ed as john crawled into the middle of the circle, leaning over to give emily a quick peck.
emily laughed, clapping her hands. “okay! who’s next?”
it went on like that for a while, boys kissing girls, boys kissing boys and girls kissing girls.
when it got to your turn, it landed on brad, who was sitting near chris. you heard chris inhale deeply, making you smirk.
you reached over, giving brad a small peck whilst he smiled greedily at you. chris never let go of your hand, his grip tightening.
you sat back laughing a little at chris who looked like he was about to lose his shit in the next three seconds.
“chris, relax.” you kissed his cheek, shuffling closer to him.
“i fucking hate this game.” he mumbled in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist.
“chris! stop being a dick and spin! it’s your turn.”
you laughed at the comment made by john. chris kept a straight face as he spun the bottle, his fingers tapping on your knee.
it landed on you. you felt everyone’s eyes on you as you looked up at chris, who was now smiling like an idiot.
your hand went to his cheek as he leaned in to capture your lips with his.
after the peck, you went to pull away but chris held the back of your neck firmly, kissing you harder.
you laughed in your head, kissing him back enthusiastically.
“okay guys...guys! get a room for god’s sake.”
you felt a pair of hands pull at your shoulders, pulling you and chris apart.
everyone was staring at you two, laughing hard. a rush of embarrassment washed over you and you blushed, looking over to chris.
he was still smiling, enjoying himself.
you tried to keep a straight face as you slapped chris’ chest softly, but he grabbed your hand and made you laugh.
“what? i saw an opportunity and took it.” he kissed your knuckles as you smiled.
a few more rounds were played, but you could see that chris was getting bored. to be honest, so were you, you wanted to get chris alone.
finally, a few people got up to leave as it was getting late. emily ordered a few taxis while pulling you to the side.
“you and chris can sleep here tonight if you want. i prepared the spare bedroom just in case. a few of us are hanging out in the lounge but the garden is free if you want some space.” she winked.
you laughed, thanking her for being so understanding.
“oh and by the way, i’m not letting you two back in the house until you sort yourselves out.”
you rolled your eyes, walking back over to chris who was waiting by the sofa.
he was still drunk, but less so. his eyes were bloodshot and he looked tired.
he stayed silent, pulling you in for a hug as you waved goodbye to the guests.
“emily said that we can sleep here tonight if you want? she prepared the spare bedroom.”
“that sounds like a great idea. i don’t think i’m sober enough to go home anyway.”
you laughed. “can we go and sit outside by the fire?”
chris nodded, pulling you towards the back doors.
the fireplace was already running, chris dragged a chair as close to it as possible, plumping up the pillows before lifting you effortlessly onto his lap.
you draped your legs over his thighs, resting your head on his chest.
“you’re quiet. what are you thinking about?” you questioned him, your fingers tapping his collarbone.
he laughed under his breath, sitting up straighter.
“i was just thinking about earlier. how you said that you feel the same. is that true?”
“chris, of course it’s true. do you really not see it?”
“well most of the time i just think that it’s because we’re drunk.”
“it’s not, i promise. the reason i only show affection at parties is because i know how difficult it is for you sober.”
he smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
you turned your head to look at him. “emily’s been trying to get us together ever since we met.”
“seriously?”
you laughed, running your hand along his abs, over his t-shirt.
“yeah, she’s obsessed with us.”
chris laughed, kissing the top of your head. the two of you fell silent for a few minutes.
you were relishing in the feeling of chris’ cheek pressed against the top of your head when he spoke again.
“so...what do you say we give it a try then? you know...“ he paused. “this whole relationship thing.”
you looked up at him, smiling. “mr evans...are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”
he smirked. “maybe i am...do you accept?”
“yeah...yes i do. i would love to be your girlfriend.”
he started smiling widely, pulling you closer to him so he could reach your lips.
he pressed his lips against yours, his hand running up and down your back.
you smiled into the kiss, parting your lips a little to give him access.
he saw the opportunity and took it, pushing his tongue into your mouth to meet yours.
you pulled back after a while, breathing heavily.
“if i knew you could kiss like that i would’ve asked you out ages ago.”
you laughed, snuggling back down into his chest. you inhaled deeply, smiling to yourself as you eyes started to close.
tags: @before-we-get-started
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jobean12-blog · 4 years
Text
My Girl
Pairing: Bucky x reader (red henley super delicious beefy bucky) 
Word Count: 1,360
Summary: Bucky wants you to be his girl but he’s a chicken. That is, until someone makes a HUGE mistake and he goes into protective!bucky mode! 
Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabble clean up and the prompt below! Love when Bucky swoops in to save the day especially when mutual pining is involved! Hope you enjoy this anon and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤
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Warnings: soft, fluffy shy Bucky, lots of the sweet stuff, Bucky being a doofus and tiny angst for a second but protective!bucky fixes everything! :) 
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Bucky quietly removes his hoodie and drapes it over your sleeping form, tucking the ends around you before gently brushing the hair from your face.  “What are you doin’ Buck?” Steve’s question surprises him, and he swings around to glare, “will you keep it down punk! Y/n is passed out, don’t wake her up!” 
Steve shoots Bucky a knowing look and shakes his head, “come on man, when are you gonna ask her out!?” Bucky immediately covers his lips with a finger, hurrying over to Steve and punching him in the arm. “Shut it. If you wake her, I’ll knock you out. She’s been working so hard this week.” 
Rubbing his bicep Steve snips back, “skirting my question again I see.” Bucky pulls the bag of chips out of Steve’s hands and takes a handful, whispering through his munching, “when I’m ready. Every time I try and bring it up, I sound like a bumbling idiot.” With a quiet laugh Steve agrees, punching Bucky back before grabbing the chip bag and walking off.
“Hey Buck, what are you snacking on?” At the sound of your voice Bucky whips his head around to see you walking over with his hoodie wrapped around you. “You look really cute.” It slips out and before he can stop himself he keeps going, “you had no blanket and I couldn’t find one and I didn’t want you to be cold so I covered you with that. I hope we didn’t wake you. Did we wake you?”
He takes a breath and dips his head, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling a bit embarrassed. “Thank you! It’s perfect and warm and it smells nice.” He looks up and smiles, that sweet smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes and makes his nose scrunch up. “And no. You didn’t wake me. My stomach did!” You giggle and start to rummage around the kitchen, searching for something to eat.
“Want some pancakes? I’ll make ‘em!” You perk up at Bucky’s offer and ask, “what can I do to help?” The next two hours go by in a flash while you cook and eat way too many pancakes, really enjoying your time together. Bucky walks you back to your room, shuffling his feet and looking awkward again. “Thanks for eating with me. That was fun.” You smile, “it really was, and you make delicious pancakes! Thanks!”
You start to take off his hoodie, but he stops you, “you can keep it, this way you aren’t cold tonight.” Your cheeks warm at his sweetness and you take a step closer, letting your eyes drift to his lips, “thanks Buck.” He reaches out a hand and pulls the hoodie higher onto your shoulder, lingering a moment longer before pulling away and saying, “sweet dreams. Goodnight!” With those last words he rushes down the hallway and you sigh, deflating and pushing the door open.  
“Nat, he had the perfect chance last night! I even leaned in and took a good look at those beautiful lips and nothing. He practically ran off! He’s just a nice guy. He would have given his hoodie to anyone. It’s not because he actually likes me. I don’t have a chance.” Nat makes a disgruntled sound, clearly displeased with how your night went. “I’m going to ask that cute agent, Chris, if he wants to come hangout and watch a movie tomorrow. What have I got to lose?” She agrees and wishes you luck as you hang up and get ready for the day. 
“I’m telling ya Steve, she was literally waiting for me to kiss her and I chickened out and literally ran down the hall. It was awful. She probably liked the pancakes more than me! Argh!” Bucky drops his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face to hopefully hide some of his shame. “She definitely thinks I’m a total idiot now.” Steve pats him on the back, looking apologetic but not disagreeing, “come on punk, let’s go train. Maybe you’ll feel better if you punch me some more.”
They head down to the gym and Bucky perks up when he sees you there, talking with one of the agents. He watches as you smile and chat, your hands moving this way and that. “Wait, what? Are you asking me out?” Bucky’s stomach sinks when he sees you shake your head yes, confirming his worst nightmare. “Ugh no, you’re ugly. Not interested.” With that Chris walks away, still looking shocked until he sees Bucky.
You rush by them in a blur of blue and before Bucky can even think to chase after you, he has Chris pinned to the mat, a heavy knee on his chest and his metal hand at his throat. “What did you just say to her?”  Chris can barely speak with Bucky’s fingers tightening around his neck and Steve quickly jumps in. “Take it easy Bucky, let him explain himself.”
Steve stands next to Bucky looking equally as intimidating, “well.” Chris sucks in a breath and tries to get some air before he rasps out, “she’s wearing your hoodie and I saw you guys hanging out last night. I figured she was your girl, and I didn’t want you to kick my ass for hanging out with her.” Bucky’s look softens at the thought of you being his girl, but it quickly disappears when he says, “and you thought telling her she was ugly was a better way to handle it. What the fuck?”
Bucky’s voice is loud, booming through the gym and Steve has to calm him down again. “You’re right Buck, just don’t kill him.” Chris tries to sit up, but Bucky pushes down harder with his knee, “do you know how upset she must be right now. You better go apologize and explain yourself before I do fucking kill you.”
The second Bucky eases up Chris scrambles away and runs up the stairs, Bucky hot on his heels. He waits while Chris explains what happened and apologizes profusely, adding in that he thinks you’re really beautiful. He gulps and looks to Bucky, cringing at the now murderous look on his face, “see, now he’s gonna kill me anyway because I said that! But it’s true! You are beautiful! I was just so scared of him kicking my ass I said the opposite because I wasn’t thinking.”
You start to giggle, much to the surprise of both men, “ok Chris. I get it. He can be pretty scary. But it did hurt my feelings, even if you were just trying to save your life.” Chris apologizes one last time and goes to hug you, thinking better of it and waving before he runs off. You pull Bucky’s hoodie tighter around your body and shift your weight, hoping Bucky will talk to you now.
Thankfully, he walks over, wrapping you in his arms and crushing you to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, sniffing it before pulling away. “Did you just sniff my hair?” He laughs, tucking it behind your ear, “yea, sorry again. I just can’t seem to get this right, can I?” Your fingers play with the hem of his tee shirt, “get what right?” 
Your coy look has Bucky cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb along your jaw, “I think you’re amazing and I’ve been wanting to ask you out for weeks but every time I try I just can’t seem to get it right. I end up sounding like a total idiot. And then when I heard what Chris said I just lost it. I never want you to hear those words again, there is nothing further from the truth. You’re gorgeous.”
Your hand wraps around his wrist and you rest your cheek against his palm, closing your eyes. “He thought I was your girl, and he was so scared. It doesn’t excuse what he said but it is kinda funny.” Bucky backs you up to the wall, leaning closer to your lips when he whispers, “would you be my girl?” Tilting your head forward you brush your lips to his, “I thought you’d never ask.”
@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @bisousbucky @book-dragon-13 @buckstaybucky @buckys-henley @breezy1415 @chuuulip @eurynome827 @harrysthiccthighss​ @hawksmagnolia​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @ikaris-whore​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @loricameback​ @lookiamtrying​ @lokilvrr​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @lorilane33​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @yansi1923​
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Text
You Are In Love (M.YG)
Warnings : mentions of cheating
Word Count : 2149
Synopsis : while laying in bed, she realizes she’s in love with min yoongi
When my eyes opened, I was met with my boyfriend’s sleeping face, and a smile spread across mine. His arm was lazily draped across my body, unlike the tight hold he had on me when we had fallen asleep the previous night. Watching him sleep peacefully like this, I couldn’t help but think about how lucky I am to call him mine. “What are you looking at?” He grumbled in his morning voice, his eyes slowly opening to meet mine.
           “The most handsome man in the world.” I whispered, leaning up to kiss his nose. He scrunched his face before pouting, saying I missed the obvious target and pulling me in for a sweet kiss. When we pulled away and I met his eyes again, his hand moving to brush some hair out of my face, I was hit with the sudden realization that I was in love with him. I knew I was falling; I’d been falling for him since we started dating. But being with him like this feels so domestic, and I want to wake up to his face every day for the rest of my life.
           “Coffee for the pretty lady.” Yoongi smiled as he sat across from me, placing both our drinks on the table between us. I thanked him and reiterated that he didn’t have to pay for me. “Let me be a gentleman.” He pouted and I giggled, completely giving into him.
           I was so nervous, playing with my hands in my lap as we talked and got to know each other better. But as the date went on, I found myself laughing more and becoming more comfortable with him. After we finished our coffees, we decided to take a walk around and enjoy the nice weather. At one point, he had slipped his hand into mine, smiling down at me when I looked over to him. “I like holding hands.” He said simply, his gummy smile on full display.
           “Me too.” I tightened my grip on his hand, and we continued walking around like that, telling each other stories of our lives, and just enjoying each other’s company.
           I met Yoongi through a mutual friend, Jung Hoseok, and there was a connection almost immediately. He was a bit distant at first, and I later found out through Hoseok, and then Yoongi, that it was because he found me pretty and got nervous around me. It took him almost three months to ask me on our first date, and then another month to make us official.
           “For you.” He said with a nervous smile as he handed me the plush he had won at the game at the fair. A blush rose to my cheeks and I accepted it, thanking him. “Those games are rigged, but I really wanted to win you something.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as we slowly walked by all the concessions.
           “You’re cute.” I told him, causing him to stop walking. I stopped a couple steps ahead of him, and turned to face him, a look of confusion on my face. He just stared at me in silence, a small smile dancing across his lips that slowly grew into his wide, gummy smile that I adored.
           “You think so?” He chuckled, taking the two steps towards me, and slipping his hand into mine as we continued walking.
           “I know so.” I countered as I started swinging our arms back and forth, looking around at all the lights that seemed to brighten the darkening day. We made our way to the ferris wheel, completing our fair date night with a cliché. I looked out at all the lights, and watched as couples wandered around hand in hand, much like Yoongi and I.
           “Can I kiss you?” His question caught me off guard, and I looked at him with widened eyes, before giggling at his question.
           “You’ve kissed me before; you don’t need to ask.” I told him, and he wasted no time; cupping my face and crashing his lips to mine as if he would die otherwise.
           “Just let me be a gentleman.” He said softly after he pulled away, his hands still cupping my face as he rested his forehead against mine. The ride quickly came to an end, and we decided to call it a night.
           We held hands as he drove me home, his thumb running over my knuckles subconsciously. The ride was silent save for the soft music playing from the radio, but the silence was comfortable. When we made it to my apartment, he walked me to the door like he always does, but he seemed really nervous this time. I thanked him for a fun night and gave him a quick kiss goodnight. “Y/N.” He called before I could open the door, and I turned to face him. “Be my girlfriend.” He spit out quickly and my eyes widened. “I mean, uh, would you want to be my girlfriend?” He started kicking his feet and rubbing the back of his neck, and I couldn’t help but smile.
           “I’d love to, Yoongs.” I walked towards him, lazily wrapping my arms around his neck, and bringing him in for a sweet kiss.
           “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch with Hoseok?” He asked and I nodded, asking him if he could pick me up. “It would be my pleasure.” He kissed me one more time before heading home.
           Hoseok wasn’t surprised when we told him we were dating, having to deal with our pining for months. He would act as if he hated being the third wheel but was actually really happy we both were happy. He’s taken so many photos of us it’s almost like he’s our own personal photographer.
           “God you two are disgustingly cute.” Hoseok rolled his eyes as he walked into Yoongi’s kitchen, Yoongi behind me with his arms wrapped around me as we cooked together. Neither one of us moved from our position, and Hoseok snapped a couple pictures. He definitely wasn’t complaining when he dug into the food and ate most of it, going on about how delicious it was.
           “It was made with love.” Yoongi smiled, pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
           “Wow I cannot wait until you two are out of the honeymoon phase.” He quipped, but I could see the small smile on his face as he watched his two best friends fall in love.
           Before meeting Yoongi, I believed I wasn’t meant to find love. Everyone I liked and dated seemed to treat me like shit; toss me aside for something better. I was scared Yoongi would do it as well, but he’s proven over and over again that he’s in this for the long run. And as I lay here in bed, staring into his eyes, realizing that he’s the love of my life, I can picture him at the end of the aisle, smiling as I walk towards him.
           “Y/N! What a small world.” Mark exclaimed, pulling me in for an awkward hug. “This is Jennie, my fiancée.” I looked down at her ring finger, seeing a beautiful diamond ring adorning it. “This is Y/N, my ex. She’s chill people though.” He said to Jennie. I smiled at her, extending my hand for her to shake. She did so with little hesitation. Yoongi slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him as he looked at the couple in front of us.
           “This is Yoongi, my boyfriend.” I told Mark, smiling up at Yoongi who was already looking at me with a smile. “This is Mark.” The two of them shook hands, and the four of us stood around for a couple of minutes before I excused us so we could go greet the man of the hour. “I forgot he and Jackson were friends.” I told Yoongi, trying to calm my pounding heart.
           “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Yoongi immediately led me to the closest chair, sitting me down and kneeling in front of me. He placed his hand on my forehead, checking my temperature while looking at me with concern in his eyes. I grabbed his hand from my forehead, holding it in my hand as I told him I was okay.
           “Mark’s the guy I told you about. The one who doesn’t do marriage. The one who was cheating on me; with Jennie.” He cupped my face with his hands, wiping away the tears I didn’t know fell.
           “Well honestly, that’s his loss. You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted person I’ve ever met. And because he was an idiot, I get to show you what true love looks like.” He ended his small speech with a small kiss. “Now, what do you say we go wish Jackson a happy birthday and then sneak away and go see that movie you wanted to see?” I smiled and nodded, taking his hand as we both stood up and made our way to Jackson.
           Yoongi was right. We just celebrated our 6 months last night, and I’ve felt more loved during these last 6 months than I did the 2 years I was with Mark. Yoongi always reminds me how much he cares about me, how beautiful he finds me. Not a day goes by without him reminding me. I was so sure I was going to marry Mark, but in this moment, I know that was just a silly dream, a wish. But marrying Yoongi, I can picture it. I want to spend the rest of my life showing Yoongi all the love he’s shown me, and then some.
           Come outside. His text read, and I didn’t even think twice about throwing on some clothes and meeting him outside. The sun had long set, and the stars littered the sky. There was only a small breeze ruining an otherwise perfect night.
           Yoongi was standing beside his car when I got outside, a wide smile spreading across his face when he saw me. I practically jumped into his arms, giving him a quick kiss. “You make it seem like you haven’t seen me in ages.” He joked; his arms still wrapped around me.
           “I haven’t seen you in 2 days. That is forever!” I jokingly exclaimed, throwing my head back to further make my point. A chuckle escaped his lips, and I absolutely loved the sound. I have since the first time I heard it. I could listen to it on repeat all day and not get bored.
           “You know what, you’re absolutely right. 2 days is far too long without you, angel.” He leaned in for another kiss, one I happily returned. “Shall we go?” He asked, pointing to his car, and I nodded, even though I had no idea what he had planned. I trusted him.
           He had driven us to an open field and laid a blanket down. “I wanted to star gaze with you.” He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.
           “You really are too cute, Min Yoongi.” We laid beside each other, and I listened as he pointed out different constellations to me. He would tell me the stories about them, and I would hang onto every word.
           “And that one right there, that’s Y/N Y/L/N.” My eyes widened as I looked at him, sitting up quickly. He sat up too, pulling a folded paper out of his pocket, unfolding it, and showing it to me. “As of today, there is a star named after you. Because you are my star.”
           “You really just went and named a star after me.” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “Just take my whole heart, Min Yoongi. I don’t even want it back.” He chuckled, wiping away the tears that fell.
           “If I could buy you the entire world, I would.” He told me. And I know he would.
           “You are my world, Yoongs.” I admitted to him. And that’s when he pulled me in for the most passionate kiss I’ve ever felt. And it didn’t end there. It ended later that night, in my bed, soft moans in the air as we slept together for the first time.
           As I laid beside him, recounting all my memories with him, I realized I’d been in love with him the entire time. For me, there wasn’t going to be anyone else. Min Yoongi was it for me. “What are you thinking so hard about, love?” He said softly, a small smile on his face.
           “How absolutely, irrevocably in love I am with you, Min Yoongi.” I admitted and watched as his small smile grew. “I’ve always been in love with you.” I continued.
           “I am so in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N.” He chuckled. “And I’m going to show you that every day for as long as you’ll have me.”
           “I was thinking forever.”
           “Forever sounds good.” Forever sounds perfect.
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sashi-ya · 3 years
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Can you do a Marco nfsw where the reader falls asleep on him and in the morning they get it on like a fluff to an nfsw
Hi!! Of course! I hope you enjoy! Thank u for your request and sorry for the waiting! ♥ ~
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NSFW ~ Marco x GN! Reader ~ Sleep On My Wings
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TW: NSFW. Vag/Anal sex. Oral sex. Humping. Fluff
A/N: The gender of the reader was not specified, so I try to write a GN! Reader as for the NSFW, so you can apply it for any gender you want ♥ I realized after writing the fic that Marco's wings come from his arms while in phoenix or hybrid mode instead of him having arms and wings on his back at the same time- Please forgive me such mistake hahah. For better reading let's pretend he has wings on his back for now 🙈🙈.
WC: 1007
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Those pirate fights always leave everyone exhausted, especially you. Your devil fruit’s powers require a lot of your vital energy, and usually you need to sleep right away after the battles.
“Are you ok?” asks Marco, the doctor and your commander when sees your eyelids slowly closing. “Uhum, I’m super exhausted. You know, the energy…” you tell him, rubbing your eyes and fighting against your sleepy body. “Well, the ship is way far from here, I don’t know if you will make it by walking. I can take you if you want” he says while blue flame wings burst from his back. You have always been completely in love with him and those wings, so you accepted right away.
As you may know, his flames don’t burn -at least he wants it to- so you rest on his back while flying over that island. The sky looks magnificent, the evening firmament slowly losing lilac colours and turning to a deep black sea full of twinkly stars.
“Marco! How pretty…!” you express, hugging his hybrid phoenix form while the wind blows your hair. “It is, not as much as you, but still” he says. You smile, and your cheeks turn to fire at such compliments. But the ride takes way longer than you could imagine, and you slowly fall into the dream world.
A warm breeze hits your face, and you slowly open your eyes. You are not on the ship; the place looks more like a... forest? You are lying over someone, and soon realize it is none other than Marco. At first you want to stand up, but then you just enjoy the feeling of his warm skin on yours. His wings are still out, and they surround both of you. You wonder why you aren’t on your ship, and more importantly, where you are.
The sun is already up, some birds fly over your heads. “Mmm, good morning” you hear Marco mumble. “Oh, uhm… good morning!” you say, a little ashamed of you hugging him. You let go and he watches with a confused expression. “Why did you stop doing that?” he asks. You are out of words, your heart beats faster than ever.
“Wanna hear something?” he tells you, while you look at him petrified. You manage to nod and wait for what he has to say. “I actually have a crush on you” Marco confesses. “Y-you do?” you widen your eyes.
“I do, and I know you do too. Come here, ok?” he tells you, pulling you closer to his body. You smile, still overwhelmed with those words, but happy as hell. Resting your head over his chest, the sky turns even brighter as the sun rises. “Marco, why are we here?” you ask. “Well, you kept falling from my back while being asleep, so I decided to rest for the night before getting to the ship. You don’t mind, right?” he tells you, smiling.
“Not at all…” you say, feeling so stupid and embarrassed. “Come on, don’t hide that pretty face of yours” Marco tells you, while lifting your chin up. He smiles and comes closer to you, little by little. Closing your eyes, you wait for a moment you've been dreaming of for so long. Your commander kisses you so softly, yet deliciously. The first kiss between the two of you, as perfect as you’ve always imagined.
But one kiss turns into two, and then into three. And your tongues make their way into each other's mouths. Marco’s arms around your body, slowly descending to the small of your back. Your arms around his neck, moving gently your body to finally be sitting over his lap.
Marco presses you against his anatomy, so you can feel his growing bulge on your groin. Your skin wants him as much as he wants you. Softly humping you keep kissing him, until his pants start to feel way too tight. Marco pushes you softly against the earth. He settles over your body and lifts your shirt. Sweet kisses from your belly to your chest, up and down. The tingling sensation of his tongue sometimes licking your skin, and the grazing of his lips over your nipples. His big winds around you two give a necessary privacy, even if you seem to be in an isolated forest.
“Marco…” you moan while his hands slowly slide your trousers off. Marco bites his lip before his mouth attacks your sex. His tongue does wonders on there, you moan and squirm. He knows exactly what he is doing, pressure building on your lower stomach. Pressure that needs and will be released, soon…
Your eyes turn white, you are panting, and climax hits you. Hard, strong, deliciously making you drip with pleasure. But Marco is of course, not satisfied, and neither are you. More, more of his body over yours, more. You wanna feel him inside you, and that's exactly what he does. Taking his clothes off, helped by your needy hands, he is ready to make you keep moaning his name.
When you are ready, he slowly penetrates your entrance. In and out he goes, slowly first, stretching clenching walls around his wide member, and then quicker and quicker. He hits that special spot, naturally, like if he was made only for you.
The warm feeling of his wings makes you so hot, drops of sweat fall over your skin from him as he fucks you rougher and faster. His climax approaching, yours too. Your eyes are fixed on each other, the connection between you two is so strong. You needed this for so long, the mutual pining for months since you joined the crew.
“Marco…”; “(Name)…”. Intense orgasms, filled by his sweet seed, dripping with it.
“I’m glad the ship is far from here…” you say, resting over his chest -ignoring the peeking silhouette of the Moby Dick from above the wings. “I’m glad too” he says, trying to cover the ship docked a few meters from the coast of the island you were in. ♥ ~
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bffsoobin · 4 years
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Spurred On
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↳ Every year you worked your uncle’s fair simply for the extra cash and free food. It was far from glamorous, but you’d long since decided the benefits outweigh the costs. That was until you were forced into tending to the massive, intimidating cows your uncle raised for show. Hopefully, the new ranch hand can ease some of your pain. 
➤ cowboy!yeonjun x reader, fluff, a lil angsty (you shouldn’t be surprised), they have tension but in a good way, suggestive, mutual pining, stereotypical Country Boy shit
Word Count: 8,102
Warnings: none other than some swearing and some making out (a little tiny bit suggestive)
A/N: I had absolutely no plans to write another fic anytime soon but seeing Yeonjun’s teaser possessed me so here I am to deliver a cowboy!Yeonjun fic I never ever knew I needed. And yes the fair mentioned is based off of the one I go to every year in my college town and the one that happens in my own home town every summer too okay don’t judge me shhhh
•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•
Sweat was beading on your forehead, streaming down the sides of your face in an almost constant torrent as you wiped a wet rag over every cleanable surface you could find. Every summer since you turned 16, you had helped your uncle set up and run his annual fair. It was far from perfect, but the job gave you some extra cash to spend and copious amounts of fair food to eat to your heart’s content. This year, you had managed to secure a spot working at the funnel cake stand- which had always been your favorite- and a promise from your uncle that you would get to go on all the fair rides for free.
It was a very busy day, as there was only one more day to go before the grounds opened to the public. All day you had been cleaning and helping people who rented barns to show their livestock find the way in. From where you stood now, you could see the line of barns and the people bustling back and forth from them. Arguably the busiest man you knew, your uncle, was hurrying over to you with a slightly panicked look on his face. 
“Miranda went into labor,” he simply stated. If it were possible, he was even sweatier than you had become, with a thick layer of dirt on his hands and part of his face. 
“Okay...” you began, unsure of where he was going as you turned your attention back to wiping down the funnel cake machine. 
“So that means Steven can’t help me with the cows, an’ they’re here now and I can’t expect the new ranch hand to it all himself.” 
Blankly, you stared at him, still totally unsure why he was bringing this problem to you. 
“So that means I need you fill in for Steven for a few weeks. Working in the barn.” Your uncle prodded, gesturing behind him to the barn bustling with activity as the cows were being ushered into their hay covered stalls. 
“No!” You groaned, dropping the wet rag with a plop. “No, I had to fight with my sister to get the funnel cake spot and now you’re gonna demote me to cows?” This had to be some kind of sick joke. Your uncle sighed, laying a heavy hand onto your shoulder and squeezing. 
“Please, Y/N. Your funnel cake spot will stay open for you until Steven comes back, I promise. But for now, if you want paid, you have to go to the barn.” 
----
By now, you were used to the scent of a barn. Your uncle had been showing cows for as long as you can remember, and as a child you often spent time following his older kids around the barn and caring for cows. 
As you stepped in now, you found yourself cringing at the chaos. Although you had always worked the fair, you never came close to dealing with any of the livestock shows, especially involving your uncle’s own group of hulking animals. The barn was as nice as a barn could get, with layers of hay on the floor and pens lined with silver food and water buckets adorning each one. Handmade signs boasted the name and age of each animal so that visitors could learn about them. Most of the cows were already in their place, so you simply walked between the stalls, glancing at them absentmindedly. 
“Are ya lost?” A smooth, low voice asked. 
“Uh, no,” you began, a little bit annoyed at whatever probably middle aged man assumed you didn’t know what you were doing. Whoever had spoken to you was wearing sleek, all black cowboy boots with a pointed toe. They seemed to have been freshly polished; free of any scuffs or scratches although it was clear by a few wrinkles in the leather that the boots had been well worn. Intrigued by the idea that you didn’t know any of your uncle’s workers to wear all black boots, you quickly flitted your eyes to the man’s face. 
Long, pinkish-blonde hair fell around his shoulders, cascading down his back in slight waves. The black cutter style hat with silver detailing covering the top of his head made it a little tough to put together the full picture, but you assumed from the few loose strands framing his face that he was sporting a mullet. Simple silver hoops hung from both of his earlobes, glistening in the low sunlight inside the barn. His eyes were a captivating amber-brown with a sparkle of gold that you could only catch on certain angles. His eyebrows were a bit darker than the blonde of his hair, cluing you in to the fact that he had most likely bleached the tresses some time before. From his taller vantage point, he looked down on you over the perfect slope of his nose. He was remarkably younger than you’d expected- probably only a year or two older than yourself. You swallowed harshly. 
“Are you lost?” You quipped back, in disbelief at the vision of the man in front of you who had seemingly blended the usual, tired cowboy fashion you were so accompanied with alongside an alternative flair that made your heart hammer wildly in the confines of your chest. 
The man snorted out a laugh, short and low as he leaned himself casually on a wooden support beam. Underneath the fabric of his black button up, his muscles flexed and glided deliciously as he settled his body weight again. 
“No, I wouldn’t say I am. I work here, and although I just started around here,” he passed an unabashed look up and down your body that made you flush, “I wouldn’t forget meetin’ someone like you.” 
At a loss for words, you simply gawked at him as you tried to reform yourself. 
“I-uh, my uncle owns the fair, and the uh-the cows, and I got stuck working in here until Steven can get back. So I’m really just looking for-” 
“Oh, you’re Y/N? Your uncle mentioned he’d be sending someone to replace Steven.” He interrupted, arching an eyebrow lazily when you nodded. There was a slight smirk befalling his lips, the perfectly plump flesh twisting in his clear scrutiny of your words. 
Simply nodding your confirmation seemed to be good enough for him as he pushed his lean body off of the wooden beam and took two measured steps closer to you. The heels of his boots clicked loudly each time, only punctuating his current upper hand. He stuck his hand straight out in front of him, simply waiting for you to meet him halfway. 
When you finally did, you hoped he would disregard your clammy palm that only compounded upon feeling his perfectly calloused skin tight against your much less worn hand. 
“Yeonjun.” He simply said, pressing his fingers into you harder as you finally actually shook hands. The blunt press of his fingernails digging into the back of your hand sent shivers down your spine, mind jumping to what they would feel like raking down the sensitive skin of your back or down the inside of your thighs or between the strands of your hair or-
“You okay there?” Yeonjun questioned, dropping your hand to cross his arms over his toned chest. Caught red handed, you busied yourself with looking at the stray pieces of hay which had littered the barn’s floor before you answered with a meek yes. 
‘Well,” you finally looked back up to see that his eyes were still trained intently on your face. There was absolutely no way he hadn’t seen your blush by now. 
“I’m your uncle’s new ranch hand, so it’s gonna be me and you in here till Steven comes back.” 
At his words, you suddenly realized just how calm the once bustling barn had become, and you were sure that everyone who had helped bring in the cows had moved on to other tasks. It seemed that you and Yeonjun were the only two people left in the barn. He was still standing dangerously close to you, bodies just about a foot apart until you took a tentative step backwards. Your heart was beating double the normal rate, distracted by the absolutely perfectly crafted man you somehow ended up in the sole presence of. He simply watched you back away, never dropping the sly smirk as he watched you panic. Damn Yeonjun and his perfect looks and perfect charm.
Maybe you should go to your uncle and tell him that there was no way you could work alongside Yeonjun. You could easily make up some kind of story that the two of you didn’t get along, and that he would need to find someone else to help out until Steven could be back and-
“Look out!” Yeonjun suddenly called, eyes widening in the split second you could still see them. In all your thinking, you had continued to slowly back away from him, so lost in your own mind that you didn’t realize you were seconds away from tripping over a stray bucket and hitting your head. Which is exactly what you did.
The floor of the barn, although partially cushioned by hay, was harsh against the back of your body. Your head bounced with a sickening echo, coupled with the skidding of the metal bucket in the opposite direction, it’s contents of some feed spread out messily through the hay, some kibbles sliding into the pens of eager cows who bent to gobble up their extra snack.
Yeonjun appeared over you as soon as you could open your eyes again, pain shooting through your head and top of your spine- where your body had bounced the most.
“Are you alright?” Yeonjun pulled you up gently, laying a large, warm hand on your back to keep you steady. His eyes were still wide, roaming your face in quick succession to see if you had any physical evidence of pain.
“Just- uh- gonna have a headache, probably.” You supplied, head still spinning. Yeonjun frowned, continuing to roam his hands over the back of you body. Although you knew he was simply looking for injuries, a shiver ran down your spine at his delicate yet assured touch.
“‘Don look like you’re hurt too bad, but I’m sure you’ll bruise,” his voice had become more gruff since he began his examination. “C’mon,” was the only warning he afforded you before hooking one arm under your armpits, easily pulling your weight off of the floor where you laid. The other arm came to hook under your knees until you were laid bridal style in his arms. Instinctively, both of your arms flew around his neck, almost sending his hat flying with your haste. Up this close, you could smell the intoxicating mix of the whatever musky-vanilla cologne he had sprayed on, undercut by the faint smell of the outdoors that was much earthier and full. You barely took notice of where he was hauling you off to, more than content to stare up at the smooth, sharp plains of his face.
Shortly, the two of you arrived at what seemed to have been his goal all along- his impressively well kept Chevy pickup. It was sleek black, shining in the high noon sun as if it had just been polished. The tires were sporting a bit of mud- but it was much cleaner than the pickup of any other man around your town. Carefully, Yeonjun led you out of his arms and on to the ground, but not before holding both of his hands on your hips until you steadied yourself.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you commented as he swung open the drivers side door, giving you a good thirty seconds to marvel at the way his jeans stretched deliciously over the curve of his ass and fullness of his thighs. He was searching for something, rummaging through the center consol of his vehicle in intense concentration as you waited.
“Here,” he finally left the car, spinning back around to you smoothly and extending a small bottle of Advil in one hand and a water bottle, warm from the sun, in the other. “Take some of these.” You nodded, downing the two small pills with a little swig of the too-warm water. It was an uncomfortable feeling but you tired your best to mask it knowing that the cowboy was still keeping a close eye on you.
“I meant it, earlier. That you didn’t have to do that. Or this.” You waved vaguely to your throat to indicate the pills you’d just taken from him.
“Is’okay. Used to helpin’. Now are you gonna come back to the barn with me or should I expect to tough out the rest of the day alone?” Happily, you noted that the teasing inclination of his voice had returned. You assessed the pain in your head, carefully weighing his question before you decided that yes, you would come back to the barn with him.
——
The next morning you arrived at the fairgrounds, still fatigued from all the work you’d done the day before. Your feet ached deeply, seeping into the muscles of your calves even as you stretched your legs in every way you could think of. The temperature of the day had already risen to an unforgivable heat which blanketed your every move and had your thin T-shirt sticking to your skin with perspiration. Every step you took reminded you that the air was still and hot and unforgiving. Not to mention the still occasionally throbbing pain in the back of your head from yesterday’s misfortune. As you neared the barn, catching a whiff of the distinct scent of cows exasperated by the heat, you wondered if you’d finally gone insane.
And then you spotted Yeonjun, intently speaking to one of the largest cows your uncle owned as he brushed her, ensuring that her coat was nice and shiny for the visitors that would begin funneling in once the evening fell. He was dressed almost the same as yesterday, except he had swapped the traditional black button up for a simple white T-shirt, most likely due to the sweltering temperature. It was tucked perfectly into the waist of his belted jeans, slightly stained with dirt as evidence of his work so far. Every movement he made to brush at the cow defined the lines of his biceps, drawing your attention steadily toward his veined hands which you noticed had rings adorning them today. The silver metal matched the gleam of his earrings, shimmering in the streams of light that the sun provided.
Quietly you stood at the entrance of the barn, marveling at his physique and the way his voice filtered through the air until it collided with your ears. You held back a laugh as he began cooing at the cow, complimenting her for being so good as the animal chewed at some hay nonchalantly. His hair seemed less messy today, like he’d taken the time to style it despite the nature of his work. You would have been more than happy to stand at the entrance of the barn and silently watch him work, but life can be cruel.
“You see, pretty lady...” you heard Yeonjun continue talking to the cow as he put down the brush. “I would love to spend all day with you, but unfortunately I gotta lot to do around here. And Y/N...well she’s spent the last 5 minutes staring at me instead of stepping up to brush any of your friends.” Shock and embarrassment washed your nerves, and you were sputtering in an instant.
“I wasn’t just staring- I was, I was waiting until you were done so that I could ask-“
“Didn’t say I minded.” Yeonjun supplied calmly, finally fixing his deadly auburn gaze onto you. Fuck, how did he always look so good? Unabashedly, he swiped his eyes over your body, and although you would normally feel scandalized, you wanted nothing more than for him to look at you. For a moment, the two of you stared at one another from across the barn, appraising each other as your mind ran wild. A feeling akin to electricity sparked under your skin, as if you’d be connected to a live wire as soon as he took a calculated step closer to you. The heels of his boots clicked against the wooden floor with every step, punctuating just how slowly he was making his advance. You felt a bit like prey being stalked as your larger, more skilled hunter circled in on you, but you were far from complaining.
About a foot away from your now trembling body, Yeonjun stopped. Your heart was hammering so hard against your ribs that you assumed it was trying to escape the confines of your chest and jump to the floor.
“Here, you’ll be needin’ this,” he drawled, lifting the brush which he’d been using on the other cow up toward you. Carefully, you grasped the tool, pretending your digits didn’t shake when he purposely brushed the delicate pads of his fingers against yours. When he finally dropped his hand away, you cradled the brush close to your sweaty form and gripped onto it for dear life. Without another word, you hurried away from him to tend to the nearest cow. You needed a breather, to be honest. Too much Yeonjun could put you at risk for a heart attack if you weren’t careful.
For a while, it seemed as if he had vanished completely. It was easily to get lost in the simple work of brushing the cows, especially along with the low warbling tones of whatever country station the radio inside the barn had been set to. You were never one for country music, even considering your upbringing, but between the work you were doing, the oppressive heat and the yearning crush weighing on you, it just seemed right to listen to the twang of Jason Aldean.
When he came back, he seemed to materialize out of thin air. You had just finished up brushing the last cow and had moved on to rewriting some of their name tags when he shortly announced that he was back.
“Oh, hey,” you spoke meekly in the hopes to mask your excitement at his return. Cheekily, he grinned, showing off pearly white teeth and perfectly pointed canines.
“Missed me that much, huh?” He chided, brushing past you easily as he took in your improved handwriting on the tags. “Damn. Didn’t even know her name was Daisy. Your uncles’ writing had me calling her Paisly this whole time.”
A low hum of a laugh lifted into your throat as you nodded, focusing on the delicate loop of a J in the next cow’s name. There was silence for a bit, the only sound being the scratch of the chalk you were using to write.
“How’s your head?” Yeonjun asked, hazarding another comment that made your surmize he was trying his best to start a casual conversation. A smirk played onto your lips. In all your 20 years of living, you’d never had the pleasure of having the cat and mouse game being reciprocated.
“It’s okay, just hurts a little bit. I do have a pretty nasty bruise too.” You weren’t lying. The fall had created a large, purple-brown bruise on your lower back that extended slightly to your left ass check, where you must have taken most of the impact of the fall. Yeonjun fell silent, and you were a bit disappointed that he couldn’t come up with a counter as you focused on writing the next cow’s name. The aforementioned bruise had given you a little bit of a limp, and maybe you exaggerated it now in the two steps it took to reach the next pen.
“Need someone to take a look at it?” His voice was suddenly right behind you, tickling the hairs on the back of your neck until they stood up straight. How he had snuck up behind you without the tell tale sounds of his boots was beyond you. Even though you were already sweating, you welcomed the radiating feel of his body heat coming off of his chest in waves. Trying your best to keep your letters from becoming shaky, you hummed in thought.
“Looks and feels pretty much like a nasty bruise to me, Yeonjun. Dunno if I need a second opinion when the damn thing makes it hard for me to even walk. But if you’re so inclined,” you turned your head to make eye contact with him, subsequently catching him in the act of staring down at your ass. He didn’t even bother to stutter out an apology or excuse- just simply looked back up at you with his steady gaze. You remarked that his lips looked plumper than normal, almost raw, like he had been biting at them during some point in the day. He didn’t bother to take a step back; simply maintaining his close distance and waiting for you to make the next move. He had placed the fate of this interaction in your hands, and now you were free to play with him a bit. Slowly, you lifted the hem of the back of your shirt just enough that you knew he could see the blooming bruise in most of its glory. He took a small step back now, to appraise the full scale of the bruise that spanned from left to right across your body.
“Why the hell did you come back today sportin’ an injury like that?” His voice was gruff, punctuated with the same concern that you had heard yesterday when you fell. The pads of his fingers skidded carefully across the afflicted skin, touch so light that you almost missed it. Suddenly insecure and a bit overwhelmed by his touch, you dropped the hem of your shirt and turned just enough that his hands fell away from your back. 
“I didn’t want to leave you here all alone, and who knows how long it’ll take to heal? I promised my uncle I’d be here. Plus I kind of really need the paycheck, so...here I am.”
Eyebrows knitted, Yeonjun opened his mouth to make his next comment when the loud, familiar voice of your uncle busted through the relative silence of the barn. Yeonjun shuffled away from you quickly as if he had already been scolded. It hurt a bit, but you understood his hesitation in being caught in a possibly compromising situation with his employers niece. 
Yeonjun called back to him, walking briskly toward the entrance of the barn and leaving you behind to strain your ears in an attempt to catch any important bits of information. You could have sworn you heard your name being passed between the two men, but there was no way you could be sure from so far away. A welcome breeze passed through the barn, bringing your attention back to the actual job at hand although you could still feel the ghost of Yeonjun’s touch. 
----
About a week later, the temperature had plateaued to a pleasant level and brought along a fresh wave of visitors to the fairgrounds. All morning, the barn had been bustling with wide eyed children and experienced farmers who came to size up the competition. You were busy refreshing the hay inside of one of the pens when you heard Yeonjun’s smooth voice for the first time in a few hours. The barn had been so noisy and loud as soon as the grounds opened for the public that you hadn’t seen him since you arrived in the morning. Across the barn, he was entertaining a group of girls, all listening intently to whatever information he was spouting. They all had perfectly styled hair and legs to die for- stretching perfectly out of their cut-offs and practically begging for attention. The one closest to him was staring at his arms with no regard for how obvious she was being, and you were sure that every other girl in the half circle was ogling him in some fashion. You shouldn’t have been surprised, you guessed, since he made you feel just as brain dead, but you still boiled inside at the sight of two of the girls murmuring amongst each other. It was tough to tell exactly what he had said, but the raucous round of laughter that shot into the air clued you in to the fact that he had probably just served them one of his sub-par farming jokes. 
He flashed them the same smile that had made your heart stutter countless times, and a sick feeling of anger pushed through your veins. With an unnecessarily hard push, you exited the pen you had just refreshed and moved on to the next. There was no doubt that Yeonjun took note of the unnecessarily loud clink of the metal gate, and you really fucking hope he got the message. Anger still bubbling just under your skin, you ignored the cow who sweetly bowed it’s head in search of affection. 
“Hello?” Someone asked as soon as you turned your back. Taking what you hoped would be a soothing breath, you spun on your heel to address the visitor. He was probably in his mid to late twenties, with cute curly hair and the usual t-shirt and jeans combo you were used to seeing men around your town wear. The way he looked was just about exactly what you would expect from a man visiting your uncles fairgrounds, as they all dressed about the same. He wasn’t your type, but over his shoulder you could see that Yeonjun had refocused his attention on you after you apparent fit with the door. A sickly sweet smile pulled your cheeks until they hurt, but you laid it on thick as you walked over to the door of the pen. 
“What can I do for ya?” Making sure to lay your voice on the extra sweet side, you took careful note of the way the man roamed his eyes over your face, stopping to flick between your lips and the low-riding cut of the shirt you’d worn today. 
“I was just uh, looking around. Got some pretty nice cows here, they yours?” You forced a laugh, throwing your hair over your shoulder before shaking your head. 
“Oh no, I just help out around here, ya know, cleaning and brushing the cows. They belong to my uncle. Like anything you see?” Deliberately, you tossed the bait and looked over his shoulder to find Yeonjun in the exact same spot as before, bottom lip locked between his teeth as he watched the interaction. Good. He deserves to have to watch this after you had to see him make those girls trip over their own feet just by existing. 
The man chuckled, clearly picking up on the inclination of your question as he hummed in thought. “I think I have my eye on someone,” he responded, resting his arm casually on the metal gate just a few inches from where you had draped your own. Instinctively, you looked at his arm- much less defined than Yeonjun’s- and noticed just about the biggest red flag you could ever see on a man you’re flirting with. A wedding band. 
“Ah, better be your wife you’ve got an eye on,” you quipped, mostly upset that your revenge on Yeonjun had been partially spoiled. There was no way you could stay here and flirt with a married man just to make Yeonjun jealous.  Defeated, you made to pull your arm off of the gate and go back to working on the hay when the man grabbed at the supple skin of your forearm to stop you. 
“She won’t mind, sweetheart,” he drawled, the cool press of his ring a persistent reminder of how much of a scumbag he was being. 
“No, somehow I really think she would mind.” You yanked your arm again, managing to gain just a few inches back from his hold. He huffed, pinching his blunt nails into your skin enough to scratch thin red lines. 
“I’d let go if I were you. Move on along, huh?” Yeonjun’s familiar tone met your ears, and you belatedly noticed that he had come right up behind the guy. You had never seen him look quite so intimidating as he did in the moment, with his eyebrows pulled together grimly. His mouth was set in a harsh line, unforgiving as he gripped at the man’s shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his tshirt. Finally, the man dropped his grip from you, shot Yeonjun a nasty look that you were sure he thought was manly, and strode off to presumably find his poor wife. 
Feeling small under Yeonjun’s gaze, you simply looked down at the faint red tracks now decorating your arm. 
“He could have really hurt you.” He muttered, keeping his voice low as to keep other visitors from overhearing. 
“He didn’t.” You spat, annoyed that he had to save you from yet another mishap. 
“Guys like that...they don’t have any respect for people like you. People who have a backbone.” His eyes were large, imploring you with the intensity of his stare. You avoided his gaze for a few more seconds, knowing that your resolve and previous anger would disappear. You shuffled some hay under your sneakers and a piece of you hoped Yeonjun would simply walk away, but you could still see the toes of his boots poking underneath the metal gate. 
“Thank you,” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze and feeling the tension melt from your bones. His features had softened considerably, and you almost forgot the pain that had split your heart upon seeing him flirting with other girls. You knew he wasn’t yours, but you wished more and more every day that he was. 
----
“I won’t be needin’ you in the barn tonight, by the way,” your uncle bellowed from across the barn. In the whole time you’d been working alongside Yeonjun in here, you had never once seen your uncle actually come into the barn. You knew he was busy with dozens of other things, but for as much as he loved his cows you were shocked at his lack of attendance. Today he stood right in the middle of it, patting the head of one of the cows with a contented look on his face as visitors swirled around. Yeonjun, who was in the middle of refilling a trough of water, popped his head up in shock at the words. 
“Really?” You enthused, dropping the rake you had in your hands to rush over to your uncle and see if he was joking. 
“Really. Got an old friend comin’ in who I wanna show off the cows to, so I won’t need the two of you caring for ‘em. He’ll be here in about,” he paused to glance down at the watch he’d worn for as long as you could remember, “about twenty minutes, if the two of you want to take off now.” 
Not having to be told twice, you waved your uncle goodbye, shot a quick smile at Yeonjun, and made a b-line to your car. Just as you pulled on the handle of the driver’s side door, Yeonjun was calling your name. 
“Hey!” He called, a little breathless from the jog he’d taken to catch up with you. “What are you uh, gonna do with the night off?” 
“Why, you wanna hang out?” You offered, half-teasing but very much offering your time to him. 
“No- I wasn’t, that’s not what I was...”
“I’ll be here,” you responded coolly. “Might come with some friends, might just come to stuff my face full of fair food. All the things I normally do when I work somewhere that isn’t the barn. I’m finally gonna get myself a damn funnel cake. But first, I’m going home to shower.” You opened your driver’s side door all the way and hopped in before he could respond. “See ya there?” You asked, hoping to probe him toward offering to meet you there. He stuffed his hands in his front pockets, swaying on the balls of his feet. His face twisted as you assumed he was contemplating his options. 
“Maybe,” he finally conceded, nodding softly as he watched you through the rolled down window of your car. “Maybe I’ll see ya there, Y/N.”
----
The sun had just begun to set when you got back to the familiar fair grounds, painting the sky in a orange-pink mix that delighted you beyond words. You had ended up coming to the fair alone; partly because all of your friends had already gone on other nights you were working and partly because you were hoping to run into Yeonjun. The parking lot was full to the brim, and you found yourself looping around to the slightly hidden employee parking lot instead of being sanctioned to the overflow lot down further down the dirt road. As you pulled into the closest spot, you caught a glimpse of a very familiar sleek black Chevy pickup in your rearview mirror. Excitement made you dizzy, hands shaking as you flipped down your overhead mirror to straighten yourself up. If you were going to see Yeonjun tonight, you were going to make it count. 
Throngs of visitors swirled around you, chatting and laughing over the piped in country music that you’d been hearing almost nonstop all summer long. With the sun setting, everything was casted in an idyllic golden glow that made you feel like you were in a coming-of-age film and not just your uncle’s fair that you had come to every year since your birth. A group of visibly drunk friends barreled past you, slurring and hiccupping as they narrowly avoided spilling their beers all over themselves. Grease and sweat mixed to create an atmospheric scent that was so inherently fair that you almost wished they sold candles that smelled the same way. Without even thinking about it, your feet carried you toward the funnel cake stand which was supposed to be your fate for the summer. To be honest, you were still quite upset that you hadn’t got to spend your days munching on pieces of fried batter and chatting with the family friends your uncle hired every year. 
Finding yourself at the back of a winding line, you resigned to the one thing that sucked about coming alone. There was no one around you to make conversation with as you waited for food. You had come to the fair many times with your friends from school and various dates, but you couldn’t think of a single time you visited the fair all by yourself. Idly, you scrolled through your phone and inched up appropriately with the line. 
“Y/N! Hey!” Yeonjun yelled, approaching you quickly. A wide smile split your face, giving away your excitement at spotting him. 
“Oh hey! I’m finally getting a funnel cake!” He was wearing his usual outfit, closer to the look you had seen him in the very first time you met. Outside of the barn he seemed much more casual, and even casted in an odd mix of setting sunrays and the harsh neon from the rides behind him, he looked ethereal. His eyes sparkled with that unmistakable mirth that he always seemed to harbor around you. 
“I saw that. Looked pretty lonely over here with your nose in your phone, figured I’d come see if you could use some company.” He was throwing you the line, waiting to see if you’d latch on. And who would you be if you didn’t?
“Hmm, I think that would be nice. Although I really can’t promise I’ll share the funnel cake.” You stepped forward with the line again, and he came with you easily, falling right beside you so closely that you could feel the heat radiating from his side. 
Once you finally had the hot treat balancing on a thin paper plate, you rushed Yeonjun to the nearest empty bench and dug in. The dough was still scalding, having just been pulled from the fryer, but the amazing taste was good enough for you to ignore the burn. Yeonjun sputtered a laugh as you shoveled in the dough, wiping powdered sugar onto your legs with reckless abandon. Teasingly, he snuck a hand up to the plate and pulled off a piece of funnel cake; pulling a teasing whine from your throat as you shook your head no rapidly. 
“Too late,” he mumbled, “already in ma mouf.” Swallowing your own piece, you widened your eyes and punched at his thigh, firm and muscular. 
“Rude! You should have gotten your own!” He smiled cutely down at you, nose crinkling as he finally swallowed. Some powdered sugar had slid onto his button up, but you decided not to tell him in favor of keeping his attention focused on you the way it was now. You felt hot but extremely comfortable under his gaze, feeling a stutter in your chest that increased the adrenaline in your veins. He was so close, and so endearing, and the way he was focused on your face was so fucking cute. 
“You’ve got,” he motioned to his own face, brushing his finger against his chin. You tried to mirror his action, swiping at the same spot, but the frown on his face told you that you had missed. 
“Lemme, can I?” You nodded before the words even came out, eager to feel his calloused hands on the sensitive skin of your face. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he cupped your jaw and inched his thumb, much slower than what would be considered normal, toward your chin. With one gentle swipe, the stray powdered sugar was gone, yet his hands remained. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. The lighting had casted a gorgeous shade along his cheekbones, highlighting the beautiful length of his eye lashes and the rounded tip of his nose. 
Up this close, you examined the curve of his lips; the soft definition of his cupid’s bow and the perfect pink of his mouth.
“Yeonjun-” he surged forward, stalling the words in your throat as he finally pushed his lips against yours. His fingers gently curled around your neck, gripping at strands of hair like he was afraid you were going to run away. It was quite the opposite, actually, as you happily hummed and leaned into the kiss you’d been waiting for. He tasted like funnel cakes and a faint hint of mint gum, just intoxicating enough to have you clawing your hands into the collar of his shirt. The funnel cake plate began to slide off of your lap, but you could not  have cared less as you swiped your tongue over the seam of his lips, greedily pushing to get more out of him. 
He hesitates, still eager to kiss you back, but not enough to let you have full reign. Pouting a little, you decided to make the best of your time by nibbling at his bottom lip playfully. Yeonjun pulled away just enough to separate the two of you gently, chests heaving as you both readjusted to a life not attached at the lips. 
“Sorry,” he grunted, voice much rougher around the edges than you’d ever heard it. The sound sent a chill down your spine. “Sorry that I didn’t, uh, wanna-” his cheeks flushed startlingly fast and he sighed. “I just don’t want to mess this up, whatever this is. I just...I like you too much, ya know?” The shyness in his voice was endearing, and it wasn’t hard at all to let your own desires fall to the wayside. He likes you.
“That’s okay, Yeonjun. You know I really like you too, right?” 
“Hmm,” he pondered, leaning back into his usual persona at your acceptance. “Did I know that? Maybe all those times I caught you staring, or how fuckin’ clumsy you get if I even so much as compliment you...yeah. I think I know.” A permanent smile was stuck on your face, unbreakable in the presence of Yeonjun and his intoxicating aura. 
----
The next morning, you’d walked into work on clouds. You and Yeonjun had spent the whole night together; strolling hand in hand, eating your way through the grounds and dragging one another on the carnival rides. 
He wasn’t around when you entered the barn, but the evidence that he was somewhere around was enough to kick you into gear. You were shoveling food into a trough, making one-sided conversation with the cows in front of you when you heard him stroll in. 
“Hey!” You called over your shoulder, too focused on getting the food actually inside the container to turn around. Yeonjun didn’t answer, but you just finished the task at hand and figured you’d try again in a few moments. Once you were done with the food, you spotted him walking back from the storehouse with a fresh bale of hay in his arms. 
He plopped it down on the floor of the barn and you tried again. 
“Good morning,” you smiled, approaching him with a grin. He looked up at your breifly and simply nodded, turning on his heels to go back to the storage. Your heart plummeted to your feet just like it had on the rollercoaster he had forced you on to just about 12 hours ago. 
What the hell had happened in between the time you parted and the time you both came into work? If you hadn’t known him better, you would have chalked it up to a bad morning, or maybe he was still too tired. 
But in all the time you had worked together, he had never once ignored you. He always greeted you in the morning, began a conversation about nothing or at least asked you how you slept. No matter how shit he was feeling, Yeonjun had always made it clear to you that you were worth his time. Did you ruin it all with the kiss? Even though he had seemed so ecstatic last night, maybe he woke up this morning with regrets stacked up. Maybe he was afraid of what your uncle would think. In your idle thinking, you hadn’t noticed the accumulation of hay bales that he had brought in. A stack of four now stood before you, and he was just feet away with the fifth. He was huffing, face reddened with the sheer weight of the bales. 
“Yeonjun, do you need help?” You tried again, hoping that maybe lodging a question would garner a real response, but you got nothing. He simply dropped another bale and made to leave the barn again. 
“Yeonjun!” You bellowed, hopping around the bales to catch up to him. You jumped in his path, holding one hand to each shoulder. Despite his strength advantage, he stopped in his tracks and gazed down at you. You noticed that he looked tired, slight bags residing under his eyes, and you wondered if we had gotten any sleep at all. “What’s up with you?” 
He sighed, pushing his fingers into his temples. 
“I don’t have time for this, Y/N.” He tried to pass around you again, but you planted your feet and pushed at his chest with all of your might. 
“We are going to talk about this. The cows are fed, and the new hay can wait. Why the fuck are you avoiding me? After last night? If you don’t actually like me, or you regret it, just tell me the truth. Be a big boy, Yeonjun. Don’t leave me out here high and dry.” The steeliness in his eyes softened at your words and a frown marred his flawless face. 
“No, god no. I do like you, Y/N. And yesterday was great and I don’t regret any of it but I just...I just don’t trust myself. The last person I dated,” he rubbed his hand into the back of his neck, “I messed it up. Bad. And the last thing I want is to do that to you, too. I’m trying to keep you away from all of this mess. So I’m sorry, but you have to just...forget last night.” 
You were stunned to silence, disbelief bubbling in your chest. How bad of a fuck up could his last relationship have been? The Yeonjun you knew was nothing but caring, goofy, smart and charming. Everything you could have ever dreamed up in a man. 
“Look, I don’t know what happened last time, but I know that you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re...Yeonjun, you’re as close to perfect as anyone could get. And even if you are a mess,” you made sure that his tired eyes never left yours, “well, so am I. I fell flat on my ass the first time we met, I step in cow shit on the daily, and somehow you still find it in yourself to like me back. So whatever you’re worried about, forget about it. Okay?” 
A small, slow smile cracked onto his face, exposing the white, pearly teeth that you were so envious of. “I never told you this,” he began, the cheerful inclination of his voice made your heart soar, “but I had to try so hard not to laugh when you fell. Like- the look on your face!” His voice tapered off into a full-bellied laugh; music to your ears. 
“Okay, okay! I was trying to cheer you up, and now you’re just bullying me!” You yelled, pushing at his chest gently in a bid to get him to stop. 
“Hmm, well you did help make me feel better, but ya know what would really cheer me up?” His laughter had ceased, but the apples of his cheeks were still risen and rosy from the effort. His hands encircled your waist delicately, pulling you into his chest. “If you could just...kiss it better?” He pouted exaggeratedly, leaning down to level your heights. And how could you resist? 
You met him halfway with the same vigor as yesterday, still shocked by the easy way your mouths fit together. With every intention of respecting the boundary he set yesterday, you were more than happy to lean into the sweet roll of his lips until you were in need of a breather. The hands on your waist tightened, pulling your bodies impossibly closer and Yeonjun mumbled something that you didn’t quite catch, although you didn’t have time to ponder it as he took the imitative to deepen the kiss. 
Finally kissing him the way you’d desired made you feel like you were on fire, every inch of your skin sensitive. Yeonjun was persistent, guiding you backwards slowly. You couldn’t see where you were going, but right now you would have trusted him with your entire life as he intoxicated you with his touch. Suddenly, your back was pressed against what you figured was the wood paneling just inside the barn’s entrance. Yeonjun finally backed away from you as your chest heaved, mind fuzzy from the rush of serotonin. Without a word he descended on you again, kissing sloppily down your jaw and neck, leaving at least two purpling bruises in his wake. Frantically, you knocked his hat backwards off of his head, weaving your fingers into his fading pink hair as he worked at the junction of your neck and collarbone. Losing yourself in his touch was easy, sliding your eyes shut as the flat of his tongue soothed the skin he had just finished raising into a blooming bruise. 
Yeonjun was just as consumed, mumbling compliments against your neck as his hands wandered to the hem of your shirt, sliding his large, warm hands under the soft cotton; roaming higher and higher-
“MOOOOO-” the cow closest to you bellowed, sliding her foot across the floor in a loud shuffle that alarmed you both. Yeonjun’s hands dropped away immediately, eyes comically wide as the cow stared at the both of you. 
“She defintely just told us to knock it off and change the hay.” You joked, trying to pretend like the loud animal hadn’t scared the living shit out of you. Yeonjun was flustered, fumbling to readjust his trusty hat as he cleared his throat and threw you a shy look. His eyes flitted to your neck, no doubt admiring his handiwork, before straightening his shirt. 
“I’m going to go...um, start on that hay now.”
704 notes · View notes
calaofnoldor · 4 years
Text
Fake It ‘Til You Make It
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Characters: Sam x Reader (gender neutral), Dean
Words: 3,295
Summary: Dean and his lady of the night are being obnoxiously loud, so you and Sam devise a plan of retaliation.
Warnings: fluff, implied smut, wee bit o’ language, mutual pining and other fun tropes
A/N: thank you for all the love and support on “Dean, Don’t” (there will be a sequel due to positive feedback!) tbh, i’m not sure how i feel about this one, but every single like, comment, and reblog is always super-duper appreciated!
MASTERLIST
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Another hunt for the books, another bar tab for your fake credit card. Another leggy blonde for Dean, and another evening spent harboring your secret yet ever-growing crush for Sam Winchester. This was becoming a pattern lately.
You'd decided to join the brothers on their last several hunts after bumping into (and nearly decapitating) Dean in a vamp-infested warehouse in Colorado. That night, you bought him a beer to recompense, but he was rather swiftly distracted by the busty barmaid, and you ended up talking to Sam all night instead.
There was an instant chemistry between the two of you, what with your shared passion for monster lore and college dropout histories, conversation always flowed easily and often without end.
Tonight had been no different, from the moment you walked into the rundown bar in Iowa, and immediately placed a bet on the fate of Dean's evening entertainment.
"Twenty bucks says he goes home with that blonde in the red dress over there," you jerked your head towards the woman in question.
"Oh, you're so on L/N. She's way too classy for him. My money's on that short one over there with the space buns."
"Deal," you shook on it, while struggling to ignore the spark his touch ignited.
Three beers in and you had almost completely forgot about your bet, until Dean swaggered over with one arm draped casually around the shoulders of his blonde conquest. "We're gonna head out for the night, see you guys later."
You waited until the front door closed behind them before turning to Sam with a triumphant grin. "Pay up, Winchester," you held your hand out expectantly.
“How are you so good at that? I’m the one who’s been watching him my whole life.” He shook his head with amiable amusement while digging out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket.
You shrugged a little, “You learn to read people fairly quickly on the job.”
“Y/N, we have the same job.”
You pretended to ponder this fact for a moment, your brows furrowing, “I guess I’m just a better hunter then?” It was an obvious jest, and you both knew it, as evidenced by the wide, matching smiles that broke out across both your faces.
God, how you loved his smile, especially the genuine ones that brought out his dimples and lit up his eyes, but even more so, you adored any smile behind which you were the cause. Those you stored amidst your most cherished memories and replayed in your mind a hundred times over on nights when the insomnia hit… Oh no, had you been staring for too long?
Abruptly, you turned towards the bartender, waving the newly acquired bill in your hand, and proceeded to order the next round.
Fortunately, the night carried on with its jovial tone, and you were almost able to disregard the desire to touch Sam’s veiny forearms when he rolled up the sleeves of his plaid, or the need to run your hands through his luscious locks whenever a wayward strand fell before his glimmering eyes.
“I guess we should head out soon. Dean’s probably gonna want to leave early tomorrow morning.”
“Right, yeah.” At this point, you were feeling a little woozy from the alcohol, and Sam’s hands were suddenly grasping your biceps as you rose unsteadily from the barstool.
“I’m OK,” you laughed it off, but instantly missed the warmth of his palms that seemed to seep through your clothes and set your skin alight. Sam simply smiled at you, yet something in his eyes was so resplendent you felt goosebumps replace the fire along your arms. You must have been staring again, for Sam looked away somewhat embarrassedly and asked if there was something on his face.
Ugh, why did he have such an effect on you? You’d been around plenty of male hunters in the past, some nearly just as attractive, but you’d always managed to keep your wits about you. Indeed, your unrelenting rationality was usually a subject of pride for you, yet here you were, a blubbering mess after a mere touch on the arm and that stupid smile.
Looking down, you grumbled a quick apology and a senseless explanation that involved blaming the booze before you took off.
Sam followed after you, but not before double checking that you had grabbed all your belongings. There was a strong and instinctive urge to look after and protect that stirred within him whenever you were around, and he couldn’t neglect it if he tried.
It wasn’t that you were weak and needed someone to look out for you. Sam knew you’d been more or less hunting on your own for years now, and could certainly roll with the best of them, himself and Dean included. No, Sam knew you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, yet he still could not brush the nagging need to keep you safe and by his side whenever possible.
At times, he felt as if a spell had overcome him and he was no longer in control of his senses when it came to you. It was annoying, really.
Tonight, for instance, Sam could have sworn he spent the better part of your time at the bar glaring down any man who came within three feet of you, foolishly daring to try their chances with you. He was sure you’d notice his strange behavior at some point, but you simply talked the night away with him, smiling that stupendous smile, the one that made him lose his breath.
Everything about you enchanted him, and Sam often found himself wishing he could just dive in and kiss you, hold you in his arms and never let you go. He was sure you could read it all in his eyes by now.
To his disappointment, however, you never gave any indication of reciprocation, always treating him in a strictly platonic manner, whether intentionally or out of ignorance, Sam didn’t know. But he never dared make a move, and he convinced himself that he felt fortunate enough to have you as a friend.
The walk back to the motel wasn’t long, although Sam took deliberately small steps to prolong your time together. When you reached the brothers’ room, your eyes fell upon a grey sock dangling unceremoniously from the doorknob. So Dean had taken Blondie to his motel room.
“How’s that for classy?” you looked up at Sam with a small smirk.
He let out a huff of a laugh and shook his head while staring at the sock. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he spent a night in the Impala.
“Hey, why don’t you just come over to my room,” you suggested as you motioned next door, “We can chill in there for a bit, wait it out?”
Sam’s eyes shot up to your face. All he had to hear was “come over to my room,” and his brain immediately began imagining all the potential scenarios those five little words could lead to… if you felt even an inkling of what he felt for you. He gulped and tried to reel his thoughts in, meeting your gaze with a dreamy look.
“Um… yeah, OK, sure, yeah. That sounds good. I mean, you sure you don’t mind?” he stumbled out.
You laughed that brilliant laugh, “No, I should probably sober up a little before I sleep anyway.”
Sam nodded, afraid of what words might escape if he opened his mouth again, and the two of you made your way towards the adjacent motel room. He watched as your delicate hands worked the key and instantly took note of the angry red scrapes and cuts along your palm when you turned your wrist to unlock the door.
Brows knit with concern, Sam silently berated himself for failing to take better care of you. He remembered you took a nasty fall when the ghost had thrown you aside to get to the brothers as they burned the necklace that tethered it to this realm. You must have landed on the concrete and braced yourself with your hands.
As you both stepped into the dim and modest room, Sam was about to ask for your first aid kit when you suddenly brought your arms overhead and stretched out your lithe body with a soft, satisfactory grunt. When the hem of your shirt rode up, Sam had to look away to stop himself from staring at the anti-possession tattoo that peeked out above your hip bone. Just that sliver of skin was so alluring to him; he really was in deep.
When you lowered your arms back down, you sent him a small, apologetic smile, “Sorry, it just always feels good to do that after a hunt and a night out in town.”
Sam nodded again, still finding it difficult to come up with the right words, but then he remembered his previous mission. “Give me your hand.”
“W-what?” you stuttered, dumbfoundedly. It was your turn to wonder if you’d heard right.
“Your hand, let me see it.” He repeated, and this time he simply caught your wrist and took your hand gingerly in his, turning it such that your palm faced up, so he could examine the extent of the damage.
“Oh,” you breathed out, slightly relieved, “It’s fine, it’s just a scratch.” You tried to pull your hand out of his intoxicating grip, but he held on quite firmly.
“Y/N, we need to clean these and bandage them so they don’t get infected.”
He had pulled you rather close to him, to the point where you could feel his body heat emanating towards you, and you hated to admit the proximity was really messing with your mind. All you could think about was the deliciously muscled torso that surely lay beneath those layers of cotton, and what it would feel like to run your hands across it.
Sam took advantage of your lack of response and led you to sit on the edge of the bed. As he went to look for the first aid kit, you couldn’t help but admire his backside, especially when he bent over to rummage through your duffle bag in the corner.
When he returned to your side, you quickly closed your jaw and reached over for the cleaning supplies, but he held it out of your reach and grasped your hand again instead. Your eyes met for moment, and almost as if on cue, a loud, lascivious moan came through the room’s thin walls.
Sam felt his cheeks heat up, and hastily averted his gaze. He mentally cursed his brother’s wanton ways, but when he heard your giggling, all was forgiven.
“I guess someone’s having a good time.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think this’ll be quite as enjoyable for you.” He motioned to the alcohol in his other hand with a sheepish smile, “I probably don’t need to tell you this is gonna hurt.”
You shook your head slightly, but still winced a little when he poured the disinfectant over your wounds.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry.” Sam sounded truly remorseful and you chuckled.
“What are you sorry for? It’s not like you threw me to the ground, and besides, you’re helping me now,” you murmured softly.
“Well you did get in it’s way to protect m- us. And I don’t like to see you in pain.”
He meant ‘people’ of course, you told yourself in vain. He’s obviously a nice guy and he doesn’t like to see anyone in pain. That’s why he’s a hunter. Duh.
You were trying, unsuccessfully, to slow your heart rate when another emphatic cry came from the direction of the older Winchester’s room.
“Oh! Oh my god!” The high pitch had your eyes widening.
“You can call me Dean, sweetheart,” came the muted reply.
You and Sam both rolled your eyes before he continued to treat and bandage your hand. His fingers, though rough, were improbably gentle against your skin and frequently sent shivers down your spine. It was all making you quite jittery and you really weren’t sure you could take it much longer. To exacerbate things, Dean and Blondie managed to vocalize their passions on at least five more occasions by the time Sam completed his work.
It was becoming rather aggravating, particularly because you found it extraordinarily hard to look Sam in the eyes or maintain a normal conversation with him when you were constantly getting bombarded by the sounds of his brother and his lady of the night copulating next door.
You stood as soon as Sam let go of your hand, needing to release some energy. “You know what, we can’t just let them dick us around like this all night!”
Sam laughed at your word choice and looked up at you, a fond curiosity shining through his eyes, “OK, but what could we possibly do to get back at them?”
You paused your pacing for a minute, racking your brain for an answer to their impudence. Sam watched as a gleam appeared in your eyes and a mischievous smile took over your features.
“I’ve got it! My friend and I used to do this back in college when our roommate brought dates home and they got a little too carried away. It’s basically a game of chicken.”
Sam raised his brow in question so you continued, “If they’re gonna be obnoxiously loud with their fornication rituals, then we can go at it too.”
“I-I’m sorry, what?”
“It’s simple. An eye for an eye. We don’t even have to make it sound real, just as long as it’s equally loud and disturbing.”
“Y/N, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? That we pretend to have s-sex?” Sam was feeling considerably dubious about your plan, as he couldn’t imagine himself holding back if you were to act in any way sensual around him, even if it was all make believe.
Just then, another resounding squeal of pleasure travelled to your ears and before Sam could stop you, you took the opportunity to show him what you were talking about.
“Oh! Yes!” You exclaimed salaciously in return.
Sam’s eyes grew as he stared at you in disbelief. Your own eyes were closed and your face contorted to an expression of intense pleasure that Sam had only dreamed about. He couldn’t stop fidgeting in his place on the bed, thankful that the first aid kit still sat on his lap as he adjusted his trousers a bit.
“Y/N, I don’t-“
“Come on, Sammy, join me! Trust me, it works every time.”
Sam didn’t have time to contemplate how much he loved the sound of his childhood nickname rolling off your tongue because a second howl came from the next room, this time lower in pitch, though you were there to answer regardless. “Oh my gosh, yes! Right there!”
If Sam thought the effect that you had on him normally was overwhelming, he was undoubtedly unprepared for the way his body responded to you making ludicrously pornographic sounds not two feet from him. Everything seemed to disappear around him until only you remained and held the entirety of his focus.
“Ooh, faster! Harder, Sam!”
Fuck. You said his name. And you said it with lust in your voice. It was as if all his fantasies had come to life before him in some twisted and desperately maddening form. Something in him snapped, and before he knew it, he was standing across from you, staring fixedly at your face, as you shouted in unison.
“Ungh! Oh god, Y/N!”
“Yes, that’s it! Don’t stop!”
Sam’s deep voice compelled your eyes to snap open. He was already looking straight at you, and you could almost taste the tension.
“Oh, baby! You feel so good!”
You didn’t join him this time. You couldn’t. He had you in a trance, his lips, jaw, neck, shoulders, the way his chest moved towards you when he inhaled, the sheer size of him. It was all too much. So you simply stared, feeling your breath come and go faster than you were used to.
There was a split second, or perhaps it was a lifetime, in which the two of you stood still, eyes locked in a fiery exchange, but in the next instant you both lunged forward, lips and teeth and noses and bodies clashing in a passionate, long-awaited display of carnal thirst.
But the kiss ended far too soon for your liking. “Wait, wait, Y/N. I really want this, but you’re probably still drunk, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you or the situation.” Sam panted hurriedly.
You smiled at his chivalry yet shook your head in disagreement, “Sam, don’t be an idjit. I don’t think I’ve ever been more sober, and I definitely haven’t wanted anything more than this, right now.” Your voice was just as breathy.
Sam moved his hands back to your face and that glorious, dimpled smile returned, “Baby, are you sure?”
The nickname brought a flutter to your heart, “Yes, I swear to heaven and hell, if you don’t kiss me again, Sam Winchester-“
His lips cut yours off in another bruising yet completely satisfying declaration of need. Your back arched and he brought one hand down to pull your waist flush against his solid form.
“Mmph,” you moaned against his mouth.
God, Sam couldn’t handle the sounds you made. A man could only hold back for so long. His enormous moose hands frantically grabbed at your ass, hoisting you into his arms in no time and carrying you back towards the bed.
Let’s just say Dean and Blondie truly had no idea of the spectacular and thunderous show they were in for.
The next morning, Sam awoke with a warm weight on his chest. He looked down to find your slumbering form nuzzled against him, head tucked beneath his chin and legs messily intertwined. A fond smile crossed his face as he subconsciously tightened his hold on you and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. The feeling of elation didn't fade as he closed his eyes to rest again, but it did recede ever so slightly to the backburner when the door clicked and his brother came barging in. “Alright, rise and shine, lovebirds! That was quite the show you guys put on last night, hope it didn't-“ “Shhh! Dean, shut up!” Sam shushed his brother with a stage whisper whilst scrambling to cover your bare back with the disheveled sheets surrounding you, but Dean had already glimpsed the evidence. “Sammy, you sly dog!” He wiggled his brows, grinning proudly at his little brother, "And here I thought I was the only one who got laid last night." “Dean, get out.” "Yeah ok, I'm gone," he raised his hands in assent. "But tell your sweetheart we're leaving in twenty," Dean added before he finally let the door shut behind him.
His sweetheart. Sam sure liked the sound of that. The corners of his lips struggled not to raise with glee. "Mm, was that Dean?" you mumbled against Sam's chest, fingers tracing the ink of his anti-possession tattoo with half-lidded eyes. "Yeah, just came to tell us we're leaving in twenty." He gave your hip a gentle squeeze "He knows, doesn’t he?" You rubbed your eyes with a yawn. Sam chuckled at your adorably sleepy state. “Yeah, sorry…” he trailed off, unsure of how you would respond to the news.
“Well, don’t be. That just means I get to do this whenever I want.” You lifted your head to kiss him hard, and his hands instinctively cradled your face, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap and completely awake.
“You know, I think we still have about 15 minutes.”
“I like the way you think, Winchester.”
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A/N #2: thank you so much for reading! i’d now like to apologize for this obligatory self plug, but there’s new stuff available at lexicolor.redbubble.com, just fyi :)
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korpuskat · 4 years
Text
Kinktober Day 18 - Omegaverse
[Ao3 Mirror] Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,571 Summary: You’ve spent years pretending you’re a Beta. One stray Quirk has that lie ripped away, thrown into heat... right in front of your leader, Shigaraki. Contains: mutual noncon, omegaverse; possessive Shigaraki, breeding, knotting,
For one moment, one moment that stretched on and on and on, you watch as Shigaraki’s eyes change. The haze slides between you, washes over his senses, and Tranquil’s Quirk does as promised: Shigaraki’s eyes fall half-lidded, mouth dropping open in a relaxed bliss, even as his eyes burn to stay focused.
The haze moves over you. And in that moment, you wish you’d been facing down Endeavor. A single, frantic inhale and it would all over.
All the years spent scouring suppressants off back-alley deals, dodging every Alpha that got too close, every governmental body that wanted so badly to stick its fingers into your life. All of it, it all comes crashing down in the face of one Hero, touted and praised for their Quirk: it’s fine, news anchors would assure the public, Warmth is perfectly safe, an immaculate nonviolent option for Alphas and Betas- no need to worry about that oh so rare Omega. If there’s a villainous Omega, surely they are already mated, have been mated since their first—
Warmth burns in your nose. “Tomura,” Your fist is in Shigaraki’s coat before you can think twice. You need to get out of here- and with your Leader half drifting pleasantly, you’ll have to drag him. But he doesn’t move, red sneakers glued to the pavement and you can’t hold your breath any longer.
It’s all over. One inhale- and it’s like spiced apple cider, the faint smoke off a burning log, thick and heavy and curling down, down, down inside you. The scent twists into your guts and for a moment, it is warmth. You think your face may match Shigaraki’s, that easy, smooth ecstasy- he turns towards you. His eyes look dulled, glassy- and his nostrils lift as he breathes in- expects to find firewood and cinnamon and instead, instead
Warmth explodes out, sparks the desperate embers in your body you’ve spent your entire life stomping out. Like a fire, it spreads through your veins, licks across every inch of your skin, and as it burns its way into your brain, you watch as your leader’s eyes shift. Twisting in confusion and then shrinking in shock, betrayal, understanding—- and just as the warmth warps into heat you watch as the pinpricks of his pupils expand out, widen until there’s only a thin ring of red left. Any trace of bliss is gone, left in ashes.
It takes you- and everything you’ve ever wanted to avoid happens at once. Slick pools between your legs, which give out. Your world narrows down and you can taste it. It’s not Warmth that scents the air, it’s you. Every face turns, every pro hero’s awareness centering on you: Omega, in heat, unmated.
The last strands of your sanity make you cry- one of them will take you, crush you down into an obedient little house omega, a breeder until there’s nothing left of you- and in the same moment you’re drooling, one hand pressed between your legs to alleviate the throbbing ache, spreading your knees wider in wordless prayer they’ll come, any of them, all of them, to fill you, to breed you, to fuck you until all you can do is cum and
One steps forward. A young Alpha, entranced by your scent, your need- and you meet his eyes, can’t stop the whine from rising in your throat, a warbling plea for mercy. You want him to stay away, to go away- he reaches for you-
A hand clamps over his wrist- deep, rumbling through the crowd is a truly primal, animalistic growl. His wrist crumbles away, the fear never overtaking desire in his eyes. Shigaraki turns towards the rest of the heroes, twisting his coat where your other hand still holds onto it, and dares them: ”Mine.”
The possessiveness makes your body want- and the last vestiges of your right mind are screaming out no no no because you don't want to be anybody's, not an Alpha's, not Shigaraki's. But his scent is strong, the musk of an Alpha ready to fight, to defend his brood- cedar and earth and a quiet tang of citrus and for all the careful control you've kept for years, your cunt oozes slick and ruts against your hand for any stimulation at all. Somehow- somehow this'll work out, you'll get away, Shigaraki won't-
You don’t have time to worry about it. A cool breeze blows up- up from below your knees. There’s no need to look down; even your lust-addled mind knows that misty feeling of Kurogiri’s warpgate. Gravity itself shifts and you’re falling, clutching desperately to the tail of Shigaraki’s coat. Above you now, the portal tightens as your leader falls through, the last glimpse of a sunny day obscured by Tranquil’s face. They open their mouth, perhaps to speak, but the warpgate cinches closed- cuts off their horrified expression. The bar’s stuffy air is nearly unscented. You wouldn’t even be able to tell on any other day, but now- now you’re too sensitive not to. The faint aroma from a half-drunk glass of whiskey, the sting of the chemicals in the cleaner Kurogiri uses for the counter (and Kurogiri, too, as the faint scent of dew) and there- there- like cinnamon in a burning campfire, like white powdered ash, like the stench of burnt flesh-
“The fuck’s going-” Dabi starts- and your gaze snaps to his. Those cerulean eyes shrink down and down, consumed by the black of his pupil as your heat-scent finds him.
The campfire scent sharpens- and you’re drooling, half a mind of not Dabi, please, not Dabi, half still signing out Alpha.
“Get out.” Shigaraki says- and the command, the dominance there makes your clit tingle.
“Tomura Shigaraki, are you-” Kurogiri speaks- and the rational part of your mind notes the continued evenness to his voice, how his scent is not warring with the other Alphas’, not a trace of dew in the air. Dabi takes a step forward-
and pine and earth and the sharp tingle of citrus explode out as Shigaraki roars, “Get out!” It leaves no question, neither other Alpha stupid enough to fight him. A flash of swirling purple smoke and they’re gone- and you’re alone with him. Alone, on the floor, one hand still curled into his coat, the other between your legs.
He looks down at you- and the last thin ring of crimson burns. On weak arms you shuffle back, cling to what reason is left. “Shi- Shigaraki, don’t.” His chest heaves- and he follows you as you crawl. “Please, I didn’t- I don’t want...”
“Oh?” He starts, his mouth up-turned, but not a speck of humor in his voice. “Tell me what you don’t want, Omega.“ You flinch as Shigaraki spits the word.
“You-” Shigaraki snarls as your voice breaks, “You don’t want to be mated either, re- remember? Gets in the way, you don’t want-”
He drops down- knees fall hard on either side of your hips- and one deadly hand finds your throat, every finger except one squeezing down until you’re wide-eyed and quiet. His voice rasps, the rut rising in him to meet your heat, that primal need to lay claim drowning out every long conversation you’d had- “Don’t tell me what I want.” The mix of fear and want has a weak whine rising in your throat, vibrating against his palm. Shigaraki leans down- and his scent overwhelms every sense, his musk warm and strong. It settles in your belly, mixes with your heat- against all wishes your thighs press together, give you anything at all to grind on as another wave of slick builds— and with that sweet, sour taste of citrus, of old clementines weaseling deeper in your brain, you bare your neck to him.
Shigaraki groans and the sound has you writhing, moaning, thrusting up against him desperation. The hand at your throat turns, keeps your face angled into his hair as his sharp noise presses against your scent gland. He breathes in deep and moans “You smell delicious.” His hips rock against the air, “Fucking hiding this from me? Little bitch Omega, just waiting to be bred, to be mated.” He nips at the gland, not deep enough to claim you, but enough to make stars burst in your eyes, the last remaining bits of your sober mind smothered by the all-consuming ache between your legs.
“Please, please, Tomura.”
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Shigaraki rips at your clothes, anything that doesn’t shred under his rut-driven strength ends up decayed, nothing more than frayed strings that cling to your body. Your underwear is the last barrier- and as he tears it free, the true power of your scent is overwhelming, even to you. The raw need of your slick soaks the ruined scrap of fabric- and Shigaraki holds it up to his nose, breathes in deep.
Moaning- and you don't even recognize it as your own until your legs are spreading before him, hooking over his hips. You shouldn't. You shouldn't be submitting to him, arching up and presenting your aching center- it's like a buzzing in the back of your brain that this isn't right, isn't what you want, but there's nothing you can do about it. Like your body is being controlled by someone else, some pervert that made you out to be the exact thing you'd feared, you'd been avoiding-
Drool slips from your lips as Tomura fumbles his own pants down- thick black sweatpants rucked around his thighs. His Alpha cock is everything you'd dreamed of, long and thick, the first trace of a knot already swelling along the base, like something out of your most shameful fantasies. The head slides through your slick, nudges along the underside of your swollen clit just once- and the needy rise of your hips has Tomura growling again, angling his cock down and-
He sinks in. As much as your heat has prepared your cunt to be used, it's still a stretch- a fullness of a real Alpha cock completely different than anything you'd imagined, anything your unmated body was ready for. Whimpers suffocate in your throat and you stare up at him, wide-eyed and shocked, floating aimlessly in the raw sensation of being complete for the first time. No, no, not complete, not yet, not without-
Shigaraki groans, eyes half lidded as he watches utterly rapt by the sight of his cock disappearing into your heat-slickened hole. His teeth bite into his cracked lower lip while eight fingers bite into your thighs. Shuddering, he murmurs in a voice you've never heard before, completely lost in his resultant rut, "Omega, my Omega..."
"Yours- only yours, Tomura." Your mouth says despite the buzzing, the ache between your eyes. A partner, a mate- some part of you lulls with the thought, soothes the burning need in your body. Someone to take care of you (someone to own you) and it's someone so powerful like Shigaraki, you'll be set, it's all you need, a strong mate.
And through it all his cock works in deeper, until the curve of his deflated knot sits at your entrance. He withdraws- and your hips chase him, lock your ankles behind his back to keep him close, a stranger's pathetic little pleas of "No, no, stay," falling from your mouth.
"Quiet." Shigaraki growls, feral and deep in his chest- the raw, irrational reaction of an Alpha being commanded by an unmated Omega. He wrenches your legs off him, takes them in an unforgiving grasp beneath your knees- and bends them back, all the way back until the insides of your thighs are aching, burning, you knees bouncing off your shoulders as he fucks you. A snap of his hips and the head of his cock finds the firm wall of your cervix. It rips a squeal from your throat- and a moan from his.
"Feel that?" He breathes, but doesn't wait for you to reply. The words spill from his mouth in a frantic rush- as though if he can't say them now he'll never get them out. "Gonna make you mine, fuckin' breed you. Gonna cum so deep in you, fill you up with my pups and- hnng" Silvery hair falls around you as his head drops forward, "I'm- I'm-"
He's so big, his cock so swollen in his rut that he can't miss; every stroke rubs on those sweet spots before pummeling your cervix- and with your heat- artificially started though it is- it doesn't even hurt. No, it just makes that primal part of your brain to scream out: yes, yes, yes, strong Alpha- "Tomura."
"Yes! Scream my name when you cum, when I claim you!"
Claim you, cl- claim you? Claim you? The word rattles in your head, makes a cold sweat bead at the base of your neck. Claim? The fog parts and you're hurtling towards an edge, towards something you can't come back from, can't avoid-
"N-no, wait." Your voice is small, weak, lost under Shigaraki's feral growling. "Don't, please."
It's too late. Shigaraki snarls, "Take it, take my knot!" His hips stutter, press hard against you- even without his knot it had been such a tight fit and now. All his weight bears down on the tight curl of your cervix, leaves no room for question: he forces your body to accommodate him. It's wrong- it's wrong- you don't want this- but your cunt opens up, relaxes, lets him nestle in deeper and-
His knot slips in.
It's instantaneous. Shigaraki moans so loud your ears vibrate, head lifting up towards the ceiling, showing his fast-fluttering pulse under the long scars of his neck. His cock throbs deep inside you, gushing cum right against your womb. It's primal, involuntary; his knot swells, inflates with each gravelly moan until it's locked in place, keeps his pelvis pressed hard against your clit. Your cunt clenches, body desperate to draw his seed in ever deeper, the instinctual need to be used and bred and you're cumming, twitching around him. Tear well in your eyes as the heat haze clears by a fraction with your binding.
His mouth drops open fully for just a moment and you spot them. For one single heartbeat you're afraid-
and Shigaraki's head drops forward. His teeth sink in and in and in over your neck and you're screaming. If it's yes or no you can't even tell, lost to the burn in your throat, in your shoulder as his fangs split flesh. Pain is all you feel, unable to push him off as blood wells up, spills hot over your skin and then- and then it's not.
It's a light that turns on in your brain. Like an applause sign, a cue that, no, it shouldn't hurt, you should be clapping, screaming. Lag, a loading screen as your body processes the unspoken command from Tomura's teeth- and the weak little orgasm explodes. Raw liquid pleasure whites out everything except Alpha and knot. Where you had been trembling, you're near spasming, every limb lost to the rhythmic full-body contractions- your clit so achingly sensitive pulsing against wiry, silver hairs. Your nails bite into his shoulders and you want to hurt him, scrape deep red marks- and from the moan that reverberates, bubbles in your blood, you don't think he minds at all.
Tomura collapses over you, releases his hold on the backs of your knees, lets them flop down on either side of his hips once more. They twitch from time to time, weak little spasms in response to the subtle shifting of his cock, of his torso against your overstimulated body. Blood oozes from his shoulders, soaks into the loose collar of his shirt. He doesn't move, at least not intentionally- keeps his face pressed to the side of your throat, lazily licking and kissing the deep, still-bleeding bonding wound.
You sniffle, turn away- and to your disgust, can't bring yourself to shove him off you. No, his soft licks keep you shivering, keeps raw dopamine and oxytocin pulsing in your veins. With bloody fingertips you card through his hair, reveal one pale, dry ear through the heavy waves of his unbrushed hair. Tomura. Your Alpha. You- you were mated. A fresh surge of tears blurring your vision until you have to pull back to run at your face.
His lifts his head then. Even with your bleary eyes you can tell he's still half out of it, unsure what's actually happened. Sweat has left his hair sticking to his scarred, cracked face, but it's your blood smeared over his lips and chin. Tomura begins to speak- but all that comes out is a hoarse rasp. He blinks, surprised by his own voice, and tries again, "Crying?" There's a kind of annoyance with it, the familiarity of your leader's abrasiveness, his inexperience with emotion. It's too close to the Shigaraki you trusted before-
Your lips twist, press hard together until your chin dimples in an effort to keep yourself from sobbing outright. Tomura blinks slowly- and a cool thumb brushes over your cheek, interrupts one tear's track. Your voice is small, childlike. "You bit me. Marked me."
He blinks again, like the words are tumbling around in his brain, not quite reaching where they need to go- and he looks down. The haze is gone in a flash, lust-blown pupils narrowing down in shock as he mutters a "Fuck." low under his breath. The hand at your cheek touches your neck, stretches the pierced skin there as he licks his lips- only to flinch and touch his mouth, come away with even more crimson on his fingertips. "Fuck."
He's pushing off you and just like that the post-bonding affection dries up. He's nearly back to his knees when he pulls his hips back- pain lances through your lower half, makes your legs latch to his waist again with a pitiful wail of "Stoooop."
Tomura flinches. The animal comfort of his body returns, awkwardly tucking one arm beside you while the other hovers, frets between your bleeding neck, your tear-stained cheeks, and awkward touches to your hair. He's never done this before. It's apparent enough in his shaking, restrained caresses, must be from the bond, the need to comfort his wounded mate. It makes you sick, this is not the same Shigaraki you knew before and this time, biting your lips does not stop the sob that racks your body.
"Stop." He demands, sharp and mean. It's your turn to flinch, ducking your face away from him- and Tomura softens, tries again. "Stop crying." He licks his lips again, tries to stroke his thumb over your cheek. "We'll- we'll deal with this. It'll be fine."
He doesn't want this either. The thought makes your tears slow, makes you turn back towards your leader's- your mate's frantic eyes. Tomura didn't want to be mated, was too busy plotting the end of society itself to give a shit about mating. Hell, he'd complained about-
"I'll... I'll have Kurogiri get something. For... this." He winces at his own words, but nods towards your body anyway. You nod along with him. "It's fine. Better each other than an outsider, anyway. I killed one, didn't I? One of those heroes who tried to take you, my- my Omega-" He sneers at his own mouth, the phrase still odd on his tongue. "What are you smiling at?"
You hadn't even realize you were smiling. the tears still rolling over your cheeks. You sniff, touch his shoulders. He stiffens at the touch- even with his cock knotted inside you, his cum lodged deep inside, that distrust runs too deep to shake immediately. "You don't have to go to that horrible rut house again."
"What?" One eye narrows as though you've spoken gibberish.
You shrug one shoulder, deflate a little. The collar to his shirt ripples as you fidget with it. "Looking on the bright side."
Tomura stops, stares at you. Your lips twist in the silence, feel bad for making light of it all. It's serious, after all- the little wins don't make up for and you expect Tomura's scowl to return, but it doesn't. He doesn't move for a long moment, before he lifts one hand and touches his still-elongated teeth. Around his hand his mutters, "The teeth caps tasted like cough syrup."
You grin, at that, feel another tear trickle past. "Don't even have to use them at all anymore."
Tomura hums, lowers his face down to your shoulder again, runs his pointy nose along your throat and breathes in your scent. It hadn't yet changed to reflect his, still fresh, untainted Omega in heat. "The Betas there never smelled this good, either..." A shiver shoots down your spine as he kisses the bitemark. He scoffs, then adds, "You don't have to buy suppressants anymore either."
You sniffle, but find your vision clearing up as you peer down at him. "My bank account should thank you."
A snort is the only response he gives you, pleased to tuck himself in close to you. Your hand slides under the collar of his shirt, down along his back, nails dragging over every knob of his spine you can reach. "You're not the worst option." He says against your collarbone, muffled as his eyelashes brush over your skin.
You hum and touch his hair, stroke the silky strands behind his ear. "Yeah, you too."
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macnevercries · 3 years
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Intoxicating(Sero x F!Reader)
Genre- fluff, friends to lovers, smut (mostly smut but with storyline)
Word count: 4250
Warnings- drug use, shotgunning, fingering, penetrative sex, praise kink, stoner hanta, hand fetish, mutual pining, sero being a gentleman, size kink?
Notes- This is my first fan fiction so I’m sorry if it’s bad, please enjoy! This was  inspired by High Enough by K.Flay https://open.spotify.com/track/1qwno7xb5mJe71xtMS6jl2?si=-5ErHlgtTo-WD_SHyGL6uw  
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“Are you on your way yet?” Mina spoke over the phone, pressuring you into coming to a hangout for once. You had missed all of the bakusquad meetups for a week and Mina was tired of being the only girl there.
“Minaaaaa, it’s awkward. I can't face Sero and the rest of them after I confessed to him” you spoke shyly.
“Y/N, you were drunk, He was drunk. We were all drunk. I don't think he even remembers it, I barely even remember that night.” she said convincingly. It was likely that Mina didn't remember it, she was a lightweight after all. 
“Even if he doesn't remember, I do. And I can't do it.” you spoke, holding your ground.
“You haven't shown up for a week. If you don't come tonight I’ll tell Sero what happened so it won't even matter if he remembers. Be there at 7, it’s movie night.” Before you could answer Mina hung up the phone.
“Mina wait-” you spoke hurriedly. Shit, Now you actually had to show up. And worst of all the movie was at Sero’s house tonight. Despite not going to see any of your friends this week, you had the group's schedule memorized and knew where the bunch would be tonight. Sighing, you got out of bed and checked the clock, 5:04, I’ll hop in the shower and have a light dinner before I go over, You thought to yourself before walking over to the bathroom and hopping in the shower, closing the glass door. You looked in the mirror through the door watching as the hot water poured over your bare skin. If Sero does remember, would he even return my feelings?
You pulled up to Sero’s apartment complex, fresh damp (H/C) hair and PJs on. It was already 7:15 and you were basically running up the stairs to ensure that Mina wouldn't do anything stupid. You barged in the door and five pairs of eyes turned to look at you as your chest heaved, soft black shorts ridden up your thighs, cream-colored tank top straps falling off of your shoulders and a dark green oversized zip up hoodie barely hanging on your arms. It was mid-summer so you had dressed lightly, Sero’s small apartment didn't have very good ventilation and having five extra bodies sure didn't help.
 As you calmed down, walking into the room you scanned your friends for shocked looks or anything that would point towards the fact that Mina had spilled. You saw nothing out of the ordinary, Sero and Denki were standing by the counter, rolling joints. Bakugou and Kirishima chatting calmly, which was out of the ordinary for the usually enraged blonde. Mina was looking at you, seeming relived and happy. Sero stared at you extra long after everyone acknowledged your presence. You looked beautiful. Cheeks red and flushed from the running, (H/C) hair messy and disheveled, (E/C) eyes boring into him. Oh shit you were looking at him. He quickly looked away and continued where he was before, clearing his mind of the way you had looked at him. Trying to focus oh his joint, rolling it carefully between his thin and long fingers Denki spoke 
“Real smooth bro, what was that look about? Is she mad at you or something?”
“I have no idea, I don't remember at least.” Sero returned, still confused.
“Weird,” Denki mumbled, lighting his joint and walking over to the couch plopping himself down in between Mina and Kirishima. Sero walked over to his hammock, the joint in his hand looked incredibly small, carefully placed between his fingers as he took a drag, light gray filling the space around his head. As he sat down, swinging a little you looked around and noticed there were no more seats. You had always known Sero’s apartment was small but with the tension in the air it felt ten times smaller. Having the old brown leather couch covered in Sero’s tape from rips being filled by Mina, Denki, Kirishima and Bakugou, you opted to sit on the floor. 
“Wait wait wait, (Y/N) you don't have to do that, come sit in the hammock with me.” Sero spoke, smoke billowing out of his lips. You clenched around nothing and your heart beat frantically. You had always thought Sero was so attractive, but when he smokes? Don't get me started, he was like another person. 
“You sure?” you asked. “I don't want to invade your space and I’m really fine with the floor.” 
“I’m sure, you're my guest and my friend. Don't be stupid.” Sero said flatly. He was confident in his answer and he knew he had done the right thing when you started walking over, slowly climbing into his hammock. Swinging back and fourth he got a nice view, his lazy dark eyes settling on your ass, shorts riding up as you stretched over the lanky man. You scooted around and settled between his legs, there wasn't really anywhere else to go. 
Turning around, you looked him in the eye as if to ask if where you were sitting was okay. He looked back at you, his signature smile settling on his face, he took a quick puff from the shortening joint in his hand and blew it into your face. You coughed, waving the smoke away as your eyes started to water. You punched Sero in the arm turning back around and looking at the TV. You felt him chuckle, sending vibrations through your body. Your heart thrummed and you squeezed your thighs together. 
Sero laid back, pulling you to his chest. The smell of citrus, sage, and weed filled your nose. As you lay there feeling more comfortable than you had been in weeks, you couldn't help but wonder if Sero had heard your confession the other day. You pointed your eyes towards the screen avoiding Mina’s prodding gaze as she clicked the play button. 
You settled back into Sero’s chest and you could feel yourself drifting asleep. The up and down of his chest, the warmth of his body, his overwhelming smell, the soft cotton of his flannel, all mixed with the sounds from the TV and Sero’s occasional laughs sending soft jolts of excitement and nervousness through your body all lulling you to sleep. Before you knew it, you were out cold and flipped over, hugged into Sero’s chest, your breath tickling his neck. He couldn’t help but feel excited. He had had a crush on you since high school and here you were, your soft breasts pressed up against him, legs entangled with his while your now dry hair brushed his nose.
The movie ended and everyone slowly shuffled out. It was now 10pm and you were dead asleep, now slightly drooling on the black haired man’s shirt. Oh man, how he wanted to tilt up your face and kiss you. Your soft pink lips were right in front of him. But he knew he couldn't. There was no way you felt that way about him. “You're so beautiful” he whispered into the top of your head, nuzzling his face in your hair and smelling your shampoo before scooting up into a sitting position and carefully wrapping his arms around you as to not wake you. He carried you to his room, his strength had always been startling despite his fairly lean build. He set you on the bed in a mound of pillows, throwing a light blanket over you. As he detached his arms from you, you mumbled “mmm Hanta don't leave, you smell so good.” His breath hitched. He knew you were asleep and probably had a second hand high but he couldn't help himself. He kissed your forehead and retreated to his shower, intent on reliving his now growing issue.
You wake up, feeling a little fuzzy but well rested in a mound of pillows. You could hear the shower running in an adjacent room, through the wooden door to your left. You didn't recognize where you were but you could assume it was Sero’s room. You had never been in here before, looking around it wasn't anything like you had imagined for years on end. There were red LED lights and twinkly fairy lights around the ceiling, circling the room in a soft haze. Band posters littered the walls and there was a mandala tapestry behind the bed. The floor was hard wood, like the rest of his house, but in here, it felt different. Everything was more comforting, Sero was comforting. Sitting up and realizing what bed you were in, you immediately laid back down and enjoyed the softness of his pillows. His usual citrus and sage scent enveloping the room, this was your heaven. 
You sat back up as you heard the shower turn off, the bathroom light flickered out as the door opened, Sero exiting. He looked delicious. His wet black hair clung to his neck, one of his long pale arms reaching up with a towel to dry it. Sweat shorts and a baggy t-shirt, water dripping off of him. You still felt a little dazed, you almost pounced on him except for the small amount of self control that you still had in you. He walked over to the bed and grabbed your chin, you heart halted. “How are you feeling? Still tired?” He asked, tilting your head from side to side in his enormous hands, checking your physical wellbeing. 
“I-I’m fine Hanta, let go of me” you mumbled, embarrassed by how red you had gotten. You hoped it would be drowned out by the lighting. 
It was not unusual for you guys to call each other by your first names, you had been best friends since high school and now you were in college, aspiring heroes. Still, whenever his first name came out of your lips, he was done for. The way you looked right now, clothes strewn and hair progressively getting messier over the night, your foggy mindset obvious in the way you slurred out your words. He wanted to know if he could make it worse, if he could wreck you beyond recognition. He wanted you, messy, broken, calling his name like it was the only word you knew. Letting go of your face, he slowly traced his fingers down your jaw. He sighed, reaching into his beside table, pulling out his stash. 
He sat down on the bed across from you and started rolling his second joint of the night. You didn't see it well before, so you paid attention now. It was his art, every small movement of his digits and the rolling of the paper, it was obvious he had been doing this for years. Ever since you guys reached legal age, him and Kaminari had become stoners. Sero was dedicated to it, but Denki just kinda did it when he felt like it. No matter how often you had seen Sero do this, pinching the smoke between his large fingers, the small paper roll making his already large hands look gigantic, you would never get used to it. You had memorized everything about this man, especially including his hands. His slender palm rising from his even skinnier and boney wrist, long and rough fingers, scars here and there. The tendons in the back of his hand, emerging when he moved, light purple veins tracing his whole upper arm. The placement of his knuckles, his chipped black nail polish topping everything off. You had long imagined these hands being inside of you. Looking at him bring his right slowly to his face, moving his fingers accordingly to take a drag, you wanted them. You wanted to reach out and touch them, trace them, feel them, praise them.
He looked up at you, half lidded with his lazy eyes, “Wanna hit?” he asked, noticing your lingering gaze.
“Yes” you agreed, reaching out before you knew was was happening, desperate for skin on skin contact with him. 
“Woah woah woah, wait, did you say yes? You've never done this before, are you sure? I don't mind sharing but I was only joking” he said rushed, suddenly more awake from your shocking statement.
“No, I wanna try it, I’ve wanted to for a while” you said, your eyes looking into his to convey your seriousness. He looked you over, and handed you the joint. The tightly rolled cylinder looked so much larger in your hands, were his really that big? You brought the joint up to your lips, closing them where Sero’s had just been. You took a drag and he watched in amazement before you started coughing wildly. Concerned, he quickly moved closer to you, patting your back and rubbing small circles, taking the joint back from your shaking hand.
 “Oh my god- I’m so sorry I forgot it would be hard for you at first, let me bring you some water” he mumbled, getting up from his seat next to you. You grabbed his arm before he could leave, dragging him back towards to you. “I’m not thirsty, I wanna try again” you said defiantly. He looked back at you, concern now covering his previously laid back and calm face. 
“Okay.. “ he started hesitantly. “well if you wanna try it again can I help you? There's an easier way for beginners. Ever heard of shotgunning?” You shook your head, looking up at him confused. He sat back down on his bed, this time closer than he ever was. He took a long drag from his joint and lightly grabbed your face, his grip gentle on your soft skin. He looked you in the eyes, searching for uncertainty or hesitation but couldn't see any. Instead, your eyes were dark, an emotion he couldn't quite place. 
He brought your face close to his and pushing your lips open with his finger, your breath hitched. God did he love seeing you like this. He closed the gap, opening his mouth to yours, the smoke entering you. You inhaled it, you inhaled everything about him you possibly could. Slowly, and regretfully, he pulled away. “Just like that, basically I just transfer smoke to you so you don't have to take it directly since otherwise it can be pretty harsh.” he said, mesmerized in the way you looked at him with wonder. 
“I don't feel anything” you mumbled childishly. 
He chuckled at your confusion “It takes a second, tell me how you feel in 10 minutes.”
“I want to do it again, I want to kiss you.” you whispered softly, peeking up at him through your lashes.
Shocked, Sero leaned back “Y-you what? (Y/N) are you okay? was the smoke too much?” he asked frantically, confused by your sudden confession. 
“Hanta, I feel fine” You assured him. “You're telling me you don't remember what happened last time?”
“Last time? What do you mean? Oh shit did I do something when we went out? (Y/N) I'm so sorry is that why you've been avoiding us?” he asked.
“No, you didn't do anything, I did.” He looked bewildered so you continued “We all got really drunk and I told you I loved you.” Sero stopped moving, his panicked fidgeting coming to halt. “Did you mean it?” he questioned, his voice deeper than before. “Mean what? Oh, yeah-” Before you could finish your sentence he was on top of you, his mouth on yours as he slowly pushed your frame back onto his bed. “I love you too” he mumbled against your lips, resuming his attack on your face. You were flustered but kissed back. There was no time to question it, both of you were high and needy, years of longing built up. 
He sat back and looked you in the eye “I know I’m not exactly sober but I want you to know that I mean every word of what I’m about to say. You’re absolutely intoxicating, you leave me feeling higher and happier than weed ever could. You are the drug that I need to survive.”
“Hanta, I only have eyes for you. It's always been you.” You stated, your heart bloomed at his confession. He looked you in the eye, studying you, confirming to himself that what you were saying was true. Sero had never been very confident of himself, he was always seen as average and you were the most beautiful and kind girl he knew. By the look on his face you could tell he accepted what you said.
Diving back into you, his hands met your body, dragging, pinching and squeezing everything within his grasp. It was everything you imagined. His body heat melting into you but his fingers still had a cool touch to them. He traveled your body, memorizing it and making a map in his mind. His nimble fingers slipped under your shirt, smothering you. He felt your smooth skin as his hands went up and down on your waist and hips. He lowered himself, pushing his rock hard length against your shorts, slowing grinding into you, finding friction. “mmm Hanta, you feel happy.” you mumbled into his ear, nibbling on it as your hand traveled down to his sweats. He groaned in your ear, rutting against your hand, desperate for your touch.
Suddenly he pulled back and looked at you. His already dark eyes were darker and clouded with lust. A light pink dusted his face. “you're absolutely beautiful” he stated, absolutely confident in his words. “Hanta, you're just high” you whined, never having been good at taking compliments. He was on you again, pulling your shirt up, glancing at you before doing anything to make sure it was okay. He ran his hands up your chest, gently cupping your breasts. “No I really mean it... I’ve loved you for years... And not just for your body” He said in-between kisses, his lips were soft against yours. Slowly his head moved down, pressing open-mouthed kisses into your jawline and collarbones, sure to leave marks. You moaned quietly and he bit down, surprising you and causing louder sounds to erupt from your chest. Your whole body was throbbing. “Don't be quiet, I wanna hear the sounds you make pretty girl” he growled into your shoulder. The nickname made your core throb. You wanted him so badly.
You pulled off his shirt, running your hands over his chest, admiring his lean muscular build. The man looked like a god. His skin was clear and glistening from his shower, his body dwarfing yours in sheer height. He had already been tall in high school but now he towered over all of his friends. His hands slowly unclipped your bra, pressing soft kisses on them. His tongue swirled around one of your already hard nipples, his fingers pinching and playing with the other. Switching breasts, he moved his available hand down to your shorts to pull them down. Realizing this was harder than he thought, he detached his mouth from you with a wet pop. He used both hands to pull down your shorts, looking at you adoringly. 
His hands traced the outline of your panties, and then palming your mound. You moaned and arched your back towards him, in desperate need of relieving all of this tension. “Hey pretty girl, we’ll get there, slow down” he chuckled. Your eyes popped open and glared at him. “Hanta, I need you. Now.” 
His breath hitched at your bold statement. He yanked your panties down quickly, surprising you and getting a gasp from you. He grinned as a string of arousal connected your now disposed panties to your exposed core. It glistened with wetness, you had been waiting so long for this moment. Sero couldn't tear his eyes off of it, slowly he reached out his large hand, sliding a finger over your slit and then softly stroking your folds. “Is this all for me sweet girl? You're too kind.”
 You arched your back, done with his teasing. Before you could even complain he stuck a finger inside, your velvety walls wrapping around him. You needed more. He could tell by your face, years of observing you closely now coming in handy. He stuck in another digit, pumping them in and out slowly as his thumb reached up to circle your clit. You let out a long whine, music to his ears. At that he went faster, still watching you closely. The way you stopped breathing when he hit one spot, he knew he had found it. Focusing all of his energy on that spot, going quicker and harder. He simultaneously hit your g-spot and rubbed your clit, getting you unraveling under him faster than any man ever had. He guided you through your high, slowing down and eventually pulling out his fingers, leaving your thighs shaking and your cunt clenching around nothing. 
He observed his slick coated fingers and licked them clean. You stared at him in shock, baffled at his actions. “mmm (Y/N) you taste so sweet, I’ll have to explore that another time though” He groaned, palming his painful erection. You swiftly pulled down his sweat shorts and boxers in one motion, his cock springing up against his stomach. You had never really thought that dicks were pretty, but everything about Sero was beautiful so you weren't surprised. 
He had average girth, but an amazing length. He had a few prominent veins that you traced, leaving him shuddering at your touch. His slight left curve looked delicious. You moved your hand towards the head, red and glistening as you traced a finger over his slit, dripping with pre-cum. You tried to wrap your hand around his base, but your fingertips barely touched on the other side. You did a few experimental pumps, you were afraid that even with your preparation it might be too much for you to take. You bent your head down, swirling your tongue on the tip, giving small kitten licks. He tasted salty, but better than other men. You weren't surprised about that, you knew he took good care of himself. You ran your tongue along the bottom, dragging it slowly and tracing all of the bumps and ridges.
He couldn't take it anymore. He pushed you back onto the bed, grinding himself against you, using his small amount of restraint to not push into you there and then. “Condom?” he asked desperately, looking around. “Don't need one, I'm on birth control” you spoke softly, hushing him with gentle kisses. He sighed contentedly at your response. He ran the head up and down your slit, getting ready to line himself up with your small hole. Your kisses crept up towards the side of his face, you licked a strip up his jaw and whispered directly against his ear, warm breath fanning his neck, “Plus, I want to feel you when you're inside me” you blew lightly on his ear and giggled. He didn't think it was funny. 
Before you could say anything he lined himself up with you and pushed inside in one motion. Your walls hugged him in all the right places.The stretch burned but when he leaned down to say “So tight. You're so good for me, taking all of my cock like a good girl” all the pain faded into pleasure. As he mumbled praises int your skin, he rutted into you, his previously gentle motions now rough and fast. Want, need and lust filled the room. The smell of weed fading, covered by the smell of sex and your overwhelmed sense of mind. “Hanta, you feel so good inside me” you groaned. This seemed to spur him on, he went faster, if at all possible, attaching his thumb to your clit and rubbing harshly without hurting you. He could feel you clenching around him and he knew you were close. He was barely hanging on.
“Where should I-” 
“Inside. Come inside me. Please” you cut him off, begging.
With a few final strokes you spasmed around him, and as you fell down from your high, he chased his own. Whispering your name over and over like he was praying, he spilled his seed inside you, white thickness covering your insides and dripping out onto your violently shaking thighs. “Oh, my god. That was amazing. You're amazing.” Sero ranted. You smiled brightly at him, too tired to move and your voice a little hoarse from all your whining. 
The black haired boy got up and went to his bathroom. He returned with a warm washcloth and a cup of water. You sipped on the room temperature water while Sero cleaned you up. He always treated you so well, even when you were just friends. He grabbed one of his clean t-shirts and a pair of boxers, helping you get dressed. Sitting up, you faced him while he beamed down at you. 
“How are you feeling?” Sero asked, genuinely concerned for your well-being.
“I’m good, it felt good.” you hummed contentedly. 
“What does this mean for us? Are we gonna tell the rest of the guys that we are dating? That is only if you want to date of course, I wouldn't want to pressure you into anything” Sero mumbled, saddened by his own assumptions.
“Is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you grinned.
“Depends, are you saying yes?” Sero smiled back, your positive reaction upping his mood. You answered his question by pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Yes, always.”
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taikanyohou · 2 years
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akktheo has SO MUCH FLAVOUR .. their insanely natural easy chemistry, the way they’re BOTH yearning and pining … the tension that becomes so palpable at times??? wow I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
hiiii anon!!!! yuuuuup! they really do! im gonna be honest when the mock trailer came out like 2 years ago i was like "yeah na this isnt it for me". and then i saw the proper trailer for it?? and i had nothing else to watch in january anyway so i was like "i might as well" ....
and then FORCEBOOK. oh my god. i watched their videos and them in gmmtv's safehouse season 2 and. like. i fell in LOVE with their bickering friendship.
and the WAY the portray akktheo. the proper honesty and authenticity they bring to the table. it just feels so so genuine and so authentic. like at first i was just expecting this to be totally one sided, unrequited from akk's pov, with theo being the oblivious one.
but noooo. god we were taken FULL surprise with it being MUTUAL! PINING! MUTUAL! YEARNING! MUTUAL! LONGING!!!! like i cannot believe we got BLESSED with theo wanting akk just as much, if not even more right now, than akk.
and can i also say p'film has done suuuuuch an immense job in building that tangible palpable tension between them with the use of the music stopping and the heartbeart sounds and how eeeeeeverything just. STOPS and SLOWS DOWN for those 10 seconds, before the pace picks back up again and one of them breaks the moment by saying something dumb fjsbcjskf.
also. can we pleeeeease talk about that moment when theo just CONTINUOUSLY eggs akk on over how he Cant Kiss Him, he doesnt Have The Guts, he isnt Brave Enough. like theo COULD NOT BE ANY MORE OBVIOUS. and ughhhh that moment when theyre JUST ABOUT TO KISS and the movie plays back and they split apart and theyre both So Visibly Shook and shy and cant even LOOK each other in the eye for a few moments. that was SOOOOO *clenches fist* GOOD.
anyway i cannot waaaaait for how delicious the angst is gonna be. theyve KISSED. akk knows theyve kissed. HE CANT GO BACK NOW no matter how hard he tries to play it off or hide it from theo. theo thinks its a vivid hallucination but just the THOUGHT of kissing akk has him SMILING softly??? whilst he touches his lips????? like HOW do they both go back from THAT. whilst also being on the hunt for enchante. LIKE. theres SO MANY feelings involved from both of them now. and now theyve KISSED on top of that but theyve both gotta keep it chill and be Friends.
ughdjdjd its gonna be so messy and angsty and JUST the way i like it and i cannot wait for the second half of the show now. its been set up PERFECTLY.
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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years
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Butterbeer and BonBons // S.B. (celebration fic)
Request: C O N G R A T U L A T I O N S ON 1.25K 🥳🥳🥳 You deserve this and I love your fics so much! I’m not sure if this is right but, may I please have Sirius with Misc. 2, 3, and 4 in Hogsmeade? Thank youu! 💙 - @inkhearthes
Misc 2: “I wasn't sure which flavour you liked so I got all of them.”
Misc 3: “What happened?”
Misc 4: “You’re giving me a headache.”
A/N: I cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken me. Honestly, there aren't enough words to tell you how sorry I am, but thank you for your sweet words. This is honestly self indulgent fluff that has more pining in it than any form of a plot but it’s been a long week so forgive me please.
Warnings: THIS FOCUSES A LOT ON CHOCOLATE AND SWEETS. BE AWARE OF MENTIONS OF FOOD. Some swearing, pining, mutual pining, so much fluff your teeth will rot, teenagers in love, teenage angst
Word count: 3.5k
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It wasn’t often that the long haired Marauder offered his services as a tutor; it wasn’t often for the fact that he simply didn’t want to help anyone outside of his friends. For you, however, he would drop all his plans to spend an evening with you recalling the events of the Gargoyle Strike of 1911.
For you, Sirius would happily accept the teasing and the jokes from his friends. For you, Sirius would happily sit through the dullest of lectures. It hadn’t been long since Sirius realised his feelings for you; his affection for you taking him by surprise but soon settling deep within him, becoming part of his very being as he watched and admired you from afar.
The library had long since emptied; the last two students being you and Sirius this close to curfew. It had been hours since you had stepped outside the large, cavernous room, wanting nothing more than to overcome the troublesome essay that had been set by Professor Binns. It had been hours since you started; hours since you had taken your designated seat next to Sirius and began your work.
This long in, a headache was starting to form behind your eyes, making it increasingly hard to focus. “You’re giving me a headache, Sirius,” You moan, rubbing your temples with two fingers as Sirius pauses his mini-lecture to take a breath.
Sirius laughs, closing his books, “That’s enough studying then.”
You smile gratefully at the long haired marauder, “Thank you for helping me, I know you aren’t the biggest fan of this subject.”
“No,” He states dryly, “I can’t say I’m Professor Binn’s biggest fan.”
“Still,” You sigh, “You didn’t have to help, but you did, so thank you.”
Sirius shakes his head, dismissing your gratitude. He would have helped you regardless; he didn’t need to extra credit for being a tutor nor did he care much for it. He just wanted to help you; he would always help you.
You roll your eyes, smiling at him as you begin to close the masses of leather bound books surrounding you. Book after book had been pulled from the shelves as you started to get to the crux of your essay, and now you wanted to groan at the task of putting them back in their rightful place.
“Fancy a trip?” Sirius asks suddenly; mischief shining bright in his eyes, personified further by the growing smirk on his lips.
You raise an eyebrow, placing the last book on its correct shelf. “That depends,” You state warily, “What did you have in mind?”
His smirk grows larger; he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, “Shall we go to Hogsmeade?”
You immediate reaction is to laugh. It wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend, and it wouldn’t be for another two weeks. “How are we going to Hogsmeade when it isn’t a Hogsmeade weekend, Sirius?”
Sirius shakes his head; refusing to answer your question. Instead, he stands, holding out a hand for you to take. “Do you trust me?” He asks; voice full of sincerity.
Wordlessly, you nod, taking his hand and letting him lead you from the library. He doesn’t let loose as he leads you to the staircase; stepping onto one and letting it lead the way.
“What?” You smile; leaning closer to him on instinct, wanting to know the joke that has him grinning like a fool.
Sirius shakes his head, “I just can’t believe I got you to sneak about the castle with me. You’ve never done something this bad.”
“Sirius!” You shout; tapping his shoulder gently, “I can be bad.”
Sirius doubles over; laughter pouring out of him almost uncontrollably. You stand next to him, waiting with crossed arms and an even crosser facial expression. “Sirius!” You shout once more; this time with anger lacing your tone, “What’s so funny?”
Sirius straightens up; dramatically wiping away any and all non-existent tears, “Just the idea that you can be bad, love. How many house points have you lost in our seven years of Hogwarts?”
You purse your lips, not enjoying having the fun picked out of you. “None,” You confirm, “Unlike some people.”
Sirius quirks an eyebrow at your pointed words. He shouldn’t, but he likes how easily he gets under your skin. He enjoys riling you up, getting you worked up. It gives him hope that he affects you just as much as you affect him; that perhaps his feelings for you are not unrequited after all, that you do in fact harbour some romantic feelings for him after all. He would think it a miracle, but he thinks it, nonetheless.
“This way,” He murmurs, pulling you in the direction of the one-eyed witch statue.
You repress the urge to slow your steps, holding nothing but blind faith in Sirius that he isn’t going to lead you on a path that could cause trouble. You begin to frown as you approach the one-eyed witch statue; her stance and eerie gaze enough to make you uncomfortable in the daytime. However, as evening descends, her gaze becomes close to terrifying.
“Why are we here, Sirius? I thought we were going to Hogsmeade?”
He nods towards the statues, another smile breaking across his face, “That’s how we’re getting to Hogsmeade.”
You eye the statues; the size of it compared to the size of you both has you doubting Sirius’ sanity somewhat. “How exactly?”
Sirius nudges your shoulder with his before dropping your hand, “Are you ready?”
You nod eagerly; desperate to know just how this statue would be your key to the small village outside of the grounds of the school. Sirius steps towards the statue with the air of someone who had done this a thousand times before, if not more.
Straining your hearing, you just about make out the word whispered by Sirius, “Dissendium.”
There’s a creaking noise first; then the grinding noise of stone against stone as you watch the back of the one-eyed witch open, revealing a passageway big enough for two. Sirius turns to you, a shit-eating grin on his face as he takes in your gobsmacked expression. He gestures to the hole in the back of the witch, “After you.”
--------
Popping up out of the floor, you recognise your location by scent alone. The overwhelming scent of sugar and chocolate had you guessing you were underneath Honeyduke’s sweet shop. Brushing down your robes, you turn to the teenager who waits for your reaction, “Honeyduke’s?”
“Honeyduke’s,” He confirms, striding confidently towards the door. A nervous whimper leaving your mouth has him freezing in place. “Love?” He asks.
“We can’t just go out there!” You argue, “What if we’re seen? What if we’re caught and marched back to the castle? We could get expelled for this!”
“I doubt it,” Sirius states, a smile in his voice, “I’ve been coming here for years and haven’t been caught since.”
You fold your arms; glaring at the long haired Marauder, “Gee, thanks, that fills me with so much confidence.”
Sirius marches back to you. He places both hands gently on either side of your face, “Love, would I have risked bringing you here if I thought we were going to get caught?”
“No?” You state, but your voice raises at the end, making it more of a question.
“No,” Sirius confirms, “I would never risk you, so let’s have a nice evening and some fun. What do you think?”
You hesitate; teeth worrying your bottom lip as you glance between the teenager who has nothing but sincerity in his eyes and smile, and the hole in the ground that would lead you to sure safety but boredom.
“Love?” Sirius prompts, “If you don’t want to do this, we can head straight back.”
You shake your head; the continued use of that term of endearment combined with your want and need to spend time with him has your heart winning over your mind. You step past him, facing him over your shoulder, “Are you coming or what?”
His answering grin is enough for you to know you’ve made the right decision.
-----
Despite the sickly sweet scent that often gave you a headache, Honeyduke’s was one of your favourite shops in Hogsmeade. It had such a wonderful atmosphere and the sweets created were nothing short of genius. It had become tradition after your third visit to the shop in your Third Year to stock up on Chocolate Frogs and Fizzing Whizzbees, however, this time you didn’t have your stash of sugary treats in mind.
A floor to ceiling shelf was dedicated to the craft of Honeyduke’s. The chocolate created by the owner being famous across the wizarding world for its creaminess but also its extent of flavours. Heading immediately there, you fix your gaze on the brightly coloured labels, pondering the best tasting flavours.
Sirius joins you; eyes pouring over the countless bars of chocolate. “What shall we do now that we’re here?”
You tap a finger to your cheek as you continue to read the labels, admitting shyly, “I’m not too sure. I’m surprised I’m here.”
Sirius laughs, “It’s surprised me too.”
You nod towards the door, “I’ll meet you outside? I just want to buy something.”
Sirius smiles down at you as he nods, “I’ll be out by the bench across the street.”
You don’t take very long once Sirius leaves; the bell above the door chiming as he goes. You grab a handful of bars from the shelves; making sure to pick an array of flavours and drop them on the counter. The worker eyes your robes but doesn’t say anything as he rings you up, placing the delicious sweets in a paper bag and handing it to you.
Spying Sirius where he said he would be, you rush to his side, already feeling the harshness of the howling wind. “I wasn’t sure what flavour you liked so I got all of them,” You comment lightly, hoping not to make a big deal over what you had done for the teenager you had a crush on.
Sirius laughs – his real laugh; a happy sound that brings a grin to your face as it was a sound so few heard and those that did, treasured. You felt fortunate that you could now be included in the select few.
He takes the bag from you, already smelling the sweet scent of the chocolate in the bag. “What have you bought?” He asks, voice teasing.
You grin up at him; wishing you had a camera in this moment to capture the curious look on his face. All his expressions should be captured, you think, everything about him should be immortalised on film. You shake your head, “I splurged a little.”
He opens the bag; curiosity getting the better of him as his mouth begins to water at the rich scent of dark chocolate. “Honeyduke’s chocolate?”
You nod your head, “I overheard you and Remus saying you had finished your stash. I thought it would be an apt opportunity to start that stash back up when you brought me here.”
Unexpectedly, Sirius surges forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your face heats immediately, unable to truly comprehend the way it feels. It feels too good; it feels like something you want him to do again, over and over for however long possible.
He clears his throat, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed at his sudden show of affection, “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.”
You wave away his gratitude as he had done earlier with you. “I wish we had time to grab warmer robes,” You shiver; rubbing your arms to warm up some as you trundle through the ankle deep snow. You bite your bottom lip, looking down at your snow covered feet, thinking that by the time you return to the castle with Sirius in tow, there was a very good chance that the snowfall will have increased.
Sirius snorts, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tugging you to his side. The simple, unthought action has you warming up considerably; not expecting this form of affection from Sirius in the slightest. His hand rubs your upper arm; the friction and his proximity warming you up faster that you realise.
“Come on,” He starts; nodding his head towards the popular meet up for Hogwarts students, “Let’s grab you a butterbeer and warm up slightly.”
“My saviour,” You comment; a wry smile on your slips as you let him usher you into The Three Broomsticks. Like the gentleman he has been raised to be, Sirius holds the door open to the tavern open for you, his cheeks aflame as he realises how much he likes being called your saviour even if it was said sarcastically.
Grabbing a booth close to the roaring fire, Sirius leaves you with a warm smile as he heads to the bar. Madame Rosmerta had spotted him when he walked in; she had smiled at him broadly before her eyes widened when she saw you. Sirius is immediately dragged into an interrogation at the bar whilst you’re left at the booth, warming your hands by the flames of the large fire.
The longer Sirius remains at the bar, the louder the whispers get from the booth next to you. Filled with students from your year but ones you had never spoken to before, you shuffled down in your seat, close to burying your face in your robes and wishing to melt away like the snow. Their laughter rings in your ears, and you know it isn’t from a joke freshly told but rather at your expense.
Their laughter makes some sense. The evening so far hadn’t made any sense. Sirius had been tutoring you in History of Magic for weeks; happily volunteering to the task when asked by Professor Binns. However, his sudden want to spend time with you outside of school wasn’t wholly understandable, and it did very little to help you curb your growing feelings for the long haired Marauder.
They weren’t the sort of feelings that crept up on you overnight; surprising you and leaving you breathless. No – these feelings had been there a long time, simmering away in the recesses of your mind where Sirius often featured as the main character of your daydreams. Not long after the start of your tutoring sessions did you come to see how easy it was to fall for the charms of the Marauder. His easy smile and his bright eyes; his charming personality and his sharp wit. All perfect contributors for a gut wrenching, heart clenching crush.
Two steins of butterbeer land on the table, snapping you out of your ponderings; foam splashing down the sides, creating a small puddle on the age old wooden table. Sirius swears lightly; rushing to grab napkins to sop up the mess before sitting down across from you, taking a large swig of his drink.
“What happened? You’re quieter now than before I left,” Sirius asks; a note of concern in his voice as he glances between you and the group of teenagers now watching you two. He furrows his eyebrows as you shake your head, refusing to answer. Instead, you focus your attention on the cinnamon stick poking out of your butterbeer. Sirius had bought the flavour on a whim; Madame Rosmerta wanting to try out her new festive flavour on the patron who visits her the most. How could Sirius say no to such an offer? Besides, Madame Rosmerta had let him stay late in the tavern when things at Hogwarts and things at home became too much. She kept an eye on him, and for that, he would happily and gratefully try out every new flavour of butterbeer she concocted.
Sirius reaches across the table; gently taking your hand in his. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand in such a comforting motion that tears burn the back of your throat as you shake your head. “You know,” He mumbles, head tilted to you, “Keeping it all in doesn’t help. You can tell me anything.”
You sigh, plucking the cinnamon stick from your drink and placing it on the napkin next to it. Shrugging your shoulders in what you hope is a nonchalant manner, you answer, “They were just rude to me, that’s all.”
Sirius’ frown deepens, “There’s no ‘that’s all’ about it – no-one should be rude to you full stop.”
You smile, flipping your hand to squeeze his fingers, “Thank you, but it’s fine, really.”
His frown loosens, and you know he doesn’t believe you. However, he doesn’t push, and he doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in a tight hold as he takes a sip of his butterbeer, smacking his lips at the sugary taste of butterscotch and cinnamon.
“How are you feeling about the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 now?” He asks; wanting to get your mind off of whatever had brought your mood down.
You smile smally, sitting up in your seat, “A lot better now. I don’t know why I find History of Magic so hard.”
Sirius chuckles: a finger tapping the stein of his butterbeer, “We don’t have the most entertaining of teachers, love.”
“You’re right,” You snort, “Binns is a bit of a bore, isn’t he?”
Sirius leans back in his chair; eyes wide as he gasps dramatically. He drops your hand somewhat reluctantly to press it to his chest. “What’s this?” He all but shouts, “(Y/N) sneaking out of the castle and chatting shit about a teacher all in one night? Am I in a parallel universe or something?”
You laugh, flicking your cinnamon stick at him which he catches with ease. “Not in a parallel universe,” You reassure, shrugging, “Just the realisation that I can have fun sometimes.”
Sirius grins: smile wide and straight, white teeth on show as he realises the extent to which you’ve relaxed over your evening with him.
It isn’t long before butterbeers are finished and muffled yawns are leaving your mouth. You do your best to stay alert, but the sugar crash from the overly sweet drink is imminent. The evening had felt like something out of a dream; never in your wildest imagining did you think you would be spending a night outside of the castle with Sirius Black. You never imagined that he would be the one to make your heart feel like it is about to beat right out of your chest, yet he does.
Biting your lip, you begin to realise just how much you don’t want this evening to end. The very thought of turning away from him to return to your room has sadness pooling in your stomach. It dampens your mood and ruins your sugar high. It hits you all at once; the strength of your want to spend every evening with him. It knocks you breathless; eyes wide as you rake your gaze over the intent expression on Sirius’ face.
There is so much more he wants to say; so much more he wants to find out about you. He wants to know what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He wants to know your favourite book and why; he wants to be the one to read to you from it, watching your reactions to moments you long knew were coming. He wants to be the one you do everything with, and it all starts with cinnamon flavoured butterbeer and bags of chocolate.
“Shall we head back?” Sirius asks, standing from his seat and waiting for you.
You nod silently, gathering your wits and steeling yourself for the bitter winter wind waiting for you.
You inhale sharply as the first gust of wind travels over your body. You long of nothing more than Sirius’ arm around your shoulders; the action he showed earlier that warmed you up better than any blanket and any fire could.
Walking back to the castle, neither of you bother with the secret tunnel under Honeyduke’s cellar. Instead, even though neither of you dare utter the words, the both of you don’t want the evening to end. Between you both, it felt like the start of something more. It felt like the start of a closer friendship and a deeper relationship, but neither were ready to confront the feelings that were quite obviously there.
Your hands brush repeatedly as you amble back to the castle. The sky has long since darkened, and the both of you know that the caretaker will be prowling the castle, searching for students out past curfew. However, as Sirius’ hand brushes yours, fingers reaching out for yours, the jolt of electricity sent up your arm has you not caring about the caretaker and the consequences or the weather that threatens a chest cold. All you care about as the turret of Gryffindor tower is illuminated by the moon is the teenager walking beside you, wondering what the future could possibly hold with him by your side.
********
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Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual @just-a-belgian-girl
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gracielitamargarita · 3 years
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Thoughts on Kyoru in Fruits Basket: The Final as a manga reader
(and bad metaphors about lava cake)
So with next week's impending shit storm of a Furuba episode next week, I've been doing some reflecting on our favorite Mutual Pining Idiots, Kyoru--and thinking about how the anime adaptation's choices in rearranging or removing content has impacted things, specifically with Se3E6.
And just to preface, I think the anime adaptation has been terrific overall. I also think loving something and critiquing something aren't mutually exclusive either. The goal of what I'm about to write is not to incite negativity, just to get some feelings out about my favorite pairing from my favorite manga series and provoke some deeper thought, I guess.
ALSO, I hope you don't mind metaphors--specifically ones about chocolate-raspberry lava cake, because that's what I've decided works best for explaining Kyoru. So FASTEN THOSE SEATBELTS PEOPLE 
MANGA SPOILERS regarding previously omitted content as well as VAGUE ANIME SPOILERS that can be implied/inferred from the ending of Se3E7 under the cut.
I think one of the (many) reasons I find Kyoru to be such a satisfying ship is because of the slow-burn element. Come season 2 through the beach arc, their chemistry is palpable, natural, and growing stronger and stronger with each episode. When Kyo finally admits to himself that he's in love with Tohru in Se2E9, it feels like we've been rewarded with a chocolate lava cake topped with raspberry sauce--it's delicious, complex, and full of gooey and satisfying substance.
Now like many, I'm a sucker for the pining idiot trope--let alone the MUTUAL pining idiot trope--and we do get to see this through the end of season 2 as Tohru's feelings for Kyo become more apparent to everyone BUT her. It's like we're LOOKING at the chocolate-raspberry lava cake, so close that we can ALMOST touch it, but we as viewers aren't allowed to cut into it yet--which makes every little encounter between the two of them all the more exciting, because we wonder what's finally going to allow us to ravish this goddamn lava cake (sorry).
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Which is why I realized I'm actually struggling more than I initially thought in the final season. As it's been widely speculated, discussed, and now officially confirmed, we're getting 13 episodes this season. And while like most everyone else, I'd be thrilled with two cours, I don't know the ins and outs of anime production, AND, while I'm bummed, I've accepted that it is what it is--and that it isn't the reason I'm writing this post.
Of course not every panel or fleeting moment can be adapted from the manga to the anime. There were small little cuts here and there over the course of the first two seasons, but nothing in my opinion that's really SO substantial that it drained the lava cake of its filling--maybe some of that raspberry topping, but generally, the good stuff is all there. (Though I do love this moment below from chapter 82, which was skipped over in Se2E19)
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The final season has been different, though. As we know in the manga, the inner turmoil for Kyo--and Tohru to an extent--really starts escalating immediately after Cinderella-ish with Kyoko's backstory and Kyo's nightmare from chapters 90-93. I also understand that Cinderella-ish was Se2E23, and with only 2 episodes left in the season, it made sense from a directorial standpoint to end with the Kureno/Akito reveal versus Kyoko's backstory and Kyo realizing he needs to know his place.
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But without this context, it leaves moments like the flower scene from Se3E2 less impactful--like a lava cake made by someone who skimped on the filling. To an anime-only (and even as a manga reader), it's likely still a satisfying moment to watch: we know that Tohru clearly has a lot of inner turmoil following her conversation with Kureno. Kyo's turmoil following his nightmare, however--and overall, the sentiment of him thinking he needs to stay away from Tohru, yet still finding himself drawn to her above all odds--is deeply diminished.
Which leads me to the main reason (finally, sorry) that I wrote this post--Se3E6, or the episode when Tohru finally admits to herself AND to Rin that Kyo has taken the place of her mother as the most precious person to her. 
In the manga, Se3E6 is made up of chapters 107, 108, 109, AND 114, spanning the end of volume 18 through the beginning of volume 20 of the TokyoPop mangas. Volume 19 in particular is one of my all time favorite mangas in the entire series for one clear reason: just as we've seen Kyo get to do in season 2, we finally get to see Tohru slowly own her feelings for Kyo, and MY GOD, is cutting into that lava cake and enjoying that delicious filling satisfying AF. The Mutual Pining Idiots are in full swing here, both dealing with inner turmoil but also being unable to stay away from one another either. In addition, they're dealing with normal teenage awkwardness too, which feels like a bonus topping (would nuts go well, do we think? LOL) to the Kyoru lava cake.
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But between the producers adapting Momiji's arc prior to episode 6 AND the producers ending episode 6 with a 2-minute horror movie essentially--AND, lest we forget, none of the Kyoko backstory at this point--we lost essentially all of that satisfying filling. 
And again, I understand, only 13 episodes and the producers are trying to make shit work and I do see why they made some of these changes in the overall big picture of things, but I wish it weren't at the expense of Tohru's character development and also for Kyoru, which had been so thoughtfully and delightfully well-developed in the first two seasons.
My biggest issue BY FAR with episode 6 is Tohru's confession to Rin happening before the sheets scene. The producers combined 109 and 114 for the second half of episode 6. In the manga, Tohru is able to openly admit that Kyo is the most important person to her BECAUSE of how he accepts her after she "opens the lid" to reveal the ugly feelings she's been harboring for years about her father. And in the manga, since we have the context of Kyoko's backstory and can see how she nearly committed suicide and left Tohru alone for days, it is gut-wrenching to finally hear Tohru confront and express her trauma in her own words. 
The sheets scene is arguably my favorite scene in the entire series. The anime portrayed it beautifully. Jerry and Laura ripped my heart out with their performances. It was a deeply moving scene (even with all of the changes) and the romance and pining was there--but, I hate to admit it, the feeling of cutting into that delicious lava cake to reveal that even more satisfying filling was not.
And now, come the end of Se3E7, we're approaching the climax of the series that we've been salivating for for so long now, the result of all of this inner turmoil and secrets and deep, deep longing for one another--and it almost feels now like the cake was baked too quickly, in addition to being drained of much of its filling. 
I was debating waiting to write this until next week after we see how Se3E8 goes, but my thoughts have been swirling about and this clown couldn’t help herself. I'd like to end this post on a hopeful and more forward-thinking note, though, if you've made it this far into my novel LOL.
There is definitely the potential to add a little more about Kyoko's backstory in next week's episode. I also expect that we'll hear more of Tohru's inner narrative and thoughts, which I’m really looking forward to. As several others have speculated as well, I predict that we'll be getting chapters 119-122 next week. Despite it being 4 chapters, everything should happen in sequence (versus with episode 6) and there's a lot of action, so I do feel like it won't feel rushed or disjointed. And while I could see them possibly ending with 121, 122 would be my preferred ending for many reasons (manga readers know where I'm going with this ;P) and I honestly see it fitting best there.
And regardless of what happens, I'm looking forward to eating whatever variety of lava cake is served to us next week.
And at the end of the day, we'll always have the manga, which will probably always be my favorite lava cake of all.
(and now I'm hungry for an actual lava cake)
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