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nanatsumu · 3 years

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TEENAGE FEVER

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis: iwaizumi has strung you on long enough and you’re finally at the end of your rope.

genre: heavy angst... like make your heart wrench in pain heavy, one sided pining

warnings: manga spoilers, bad grammar (didn’t know it was that bad until i used grammarly), MATURE themes, drinking, smoking, alcohol, iwaizumi being an asshole (he’s also a frat boy because surprise! frat boys should never be trusted), subtle hints at sex, bittersweet ending

word count: 6.7K

series masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

“y/n we know you’re in there, someone told me they saw you run in here.”

great!

you slowly sit up from the toilet, dragging your feet across the bathroom tiles until you make it to the door and begin unlocking the lock at a snail’s pace. but before you can even get a chance to twist the doorknob, somebody is already doing so on the other side of the door and the next thing you know, reina’s screaming ‘HURRY UP’ and you’re assaulted by the bathroom door.

“REINA!” you scream as the result of the door flying into your face has you clutching your head.

“SHIT! SORRY Y/N!”

“geez, why are you so fucking slow,” oikawa complains as he sucks his teeth, pushing the door in a little wider so that you can see standing him behind reina as well. “did iwa-chan’s kiss mess you up that bad?”

“your friend is a prick, oikawa!” reina jabs him in the side, eliciting a grunt from the poor man. “it was supposed to be a quick smooch but that guy had to be extra and start using tongue!”

“what kind of guy kisses a girl who he’s only met once like that?!” your female friend cries.

“only someone as ballsy as him would even try and do that,” oikawa stops scratching his head, his eyes widening like saucers as if he’s just realized something. “and don’t put all the blame on iwaizumi! y/n, you literally moaned! and i even saw you kissing back!”

“don’t make me feel shittier than i already do oikawa!” you jeer.

“he...” you sigh and you can feel the tears start to prickle your eyes. “i feel so humiliated, and embarrassed.”

“and i-i felt so... so exposed.”

oikawa’s playful expression falters as he hears the hurt in your voice and manages to squeeze his way past a protesting reina before kneeling down so that he could meet your glossy eyes.

“listen, i’ll apologize on his behalf for now and i’ll take him about it later, alright?” he awkwardly pats your shoulder, not sure what to do as he’s never been in a situation where he’s had to comfort a girl bawling her eyes out.

“y-you... don’t have— t-to do that,” you whimper. “i’m just being a big crybaby, it’s just a silly kiss.”

“no it’s not!” reina blurts out a little louder than she intended to. “that prick completely disrespected you and embarrassed you in front of everyone! it wasn’t even a matter of him kissing you, it was a part of a game, but that dude took it too far and crossed the line!”

“listen, this is why i told you to stay away from him in the first place,” your roommate shuffles closer to you and pulls you in for a hug. “let’s go home alright?”

“let me walk you guys home, it’s getting late outside and even though you two are together, you never know what’ll happen.” oikawa offers, and while you are quick to accept, reina wavers momentarily.

“how do you know you’re not gonna take advantage of us, hm?”

“please, if i wanted to i already would’ve given the circumstances but i haven’t because i. do. not. want. to!” he smiles patronizingly which irks reina.

“whatever, but if you even think about trying anything then i’ll cut your dick off and feed it to my lizard.” she threatens but oikawa doesn’t take it to heart.

you finally get the last of your sniffles out as you stand up to your feet and exit the bathroom with oikawa and reina trailing along right behind you, similar to an assembly line of ducks— a very... tall duck, a crying duck, and an angry duck.

the walk home was rowdier than you had expected it to be. while you were quieter than usual and still in a bad mood from earlier events, that didn’t stop oikawa and reina though from causing a ruckus on the way back to the dorms.

“you’re telling me, that THAT’S hajime? like hajime iwaizumi? the notorious playboy of irvine?” reina gapes as she stares at the photo of iwaizumi back in high school that oikawa had saved in his phone.

even you were surprised to see what iwaizumi looked back then when reina practically shoved oikawa’s phone in your face, the brightness radiating from his phone screen only further irritating your bloodshot eyes.

while he still had a bit of muscle on him back then, he looked a lot lankier in comparison to his university counterpart who had grown twice in size. his once pale skin had become almost a sun-kissed tan color that complimented his features. but what shocked you the most was that the iwaizumi shown to you in the photos was free from any blemishes on his arms and his ears weren’t dressed in dangly silvers or studs.

“that’s iwaizumi?” your jaw dropped and oikawa was quick to make a teasing remark about how your mouth was wide open enough for flies to fly in.

“what happened to him?!” reina cries.

“sometimes i wonder why he hasn’t visited japan in the past 4 years but when i look back at this photo and then compare it to present him, i would piss my pants too if i were him and had to go back home to my mom.”

“does his mom not like tattoos or piercings?” reina questions as you and oikawa give each other a look before turning back to the girl.

“i don’t know about iwaizumi, but my mom is pretty strict about tattoos and piercings,” you start to explain. “she’s the ‘girls shouldn’t get tattoos!’ and ‘guys shouldn’t get piercings!’ type of mom, so she’s not completely against it, but if i came home with a huge ass tattoo like iwaizumi then she’d sure as hell chop my arm off.”

“japan’s pretty strict about piercings and tattoos, especially when it comes to students because tattoos are kind of a sign of the yakuza in japan,” oikawa adds in addition. “piercings aren’t as frowned upon as tattoos but it’s usually the younger kids who have ‘em.”

“yakuza?”

“like a gang basically? or a mafia i guess.” you answer reina to the best of your abilities.

you start kicking a pebble around and breathe in the crisp california air, watching as a puff of smoke escapes your lips with every exhale.

“you alright?” oikawa asks as he begins growing worried since you haven’t said anything in the past few minutes.

“yeah, just thinking,” you stuff your hands into your pockets and continue kicking the pebble beneath your feet. “california is a lot hotter than japan.”

“you think california is hot? just wait ‘till you spend a day in the summer heat in argentina.” he counters.

“maybe one day,” you say in consideration. “maybe when i graduate university i’ll consider traveling somewhere before my life completely revolves around paying taxes and bills.”

“if you do come to argentina one day then just give me a call and i’ll be more than happy to give you a tour around.” he beams.

“my cousin is playing volleyball in brazil, i think?” you say, remembering your mother telling you that hinata had gone to play beach volleyball in brazil. “he’s blood-related but he lived in miyagi while i lived in aomori so we never really got to see each other that much.”

“miyagi? i used to live in miyagi too!”

“huh? really? do you know a hinata shoyo then?” you ask, intrigued at the newfound information. “i heard from my mom that he started playing volleyball in high school so he’s probably played you once in a game if you played volleyball in high school too.”

“i did actually, his team beat mine during the qualifiers for spring nationals my last year of high school and man, i think i probably broke the record for most bowls of ramen eaten in one sitting that day.” he chuckles but it comes out sounding more half-heartedly in your ears, almost like he’s recalling an unpleasant memory from the past.

“so what made you go to argentina?” you ask and oikawa answers like he’s been asked this countless of times (which he has.)

“when i was a kid, there was this volleyball player i really looked up to,” oikawa starts. “his name was jose blanco and there was a tournament happening in sendai that i went to where he played against japan, and at the time there was a young ace on the team who was a fledgling star,”

“he made a big impression during the first half of the tournament but he started getting worse as things progressed. he was kind of off for the rest of the game and i thought that he was gonna be subbed out but it wasn’t until they switched setters that i noticed the ace was getting back into his groove. jose was a veteran setter, 38 years old i think? and if you were to be asked who the star of the game was then you’d probably say the ace since he was the one who scored most of the points right? but if you ask me, i think the setter was the star of the game!”

“he was so cool too! like he was so calm the entire time and he inconspicuously helped the ace get back on to his feet and just simply left the court,” oikawa continues to ramble. “i even got an autograph but that dumbass iwaizumi took the paper that i bought and got the autograph of some dude on the japan team so i had to give jose the jersey i bought earlier that day instead. although it did end up getting washed though....”

“hah! desperate much?” you laugh as you bump shoulders with him.

“desperate time for desperate measures! no way was i gonna leave without getting the jose blanco’s autograph!” he emphasizes.

unbeknownst to you and oikawa, a cheeky smile creeps upon reina’s face as she watches you and oikawa converse with each other like you two were long-time friends catching up for the first time in forever.

you, on the other hand, were starstruck by the man that is oikawa tooru.

the story he told you left you feeling heart-warmed because you noticed how his eyes sparkled and his lips curved into a genuine smile as he talked about his idol and the sport he is so passionate about. oikawa was many things: a flirt, a smooth talker, a sly fox, and he could get a little handsy sometimes— but you could tell the love he had for volleyball was like no other and you respected how committed he was to the sport, even going as far as to going to argentina in order to follow his long-time idol.

“i think it’s really cool that you’re so passionate about volleyball,” you smile as you peer up at the night sky. “in my opinion, i think being committed to one thing your entire life is a bit hard depending on who you are, but at least there are guys like you who are one-in-a-million.”

your words strike a chord in oikawa and reina is quick to notice the way his lips part as he holds his gaze on you.

“oh would you two quit flirting!” reina lets out an inhumane noise that startles you and oikawa.

“you scared me!” you take a deep breath and frantically clutch your heart.

“just say you forgot that i was here because you were too busy getting chummy with oikawa!” she groans while pulling her face.

“you’re just jealous i’m stealing your roommate away,” oikawa sticks his tongue out at your roommate before stopping in his tracks and pulling you into a hug. “but don’t worry! i’ll take extremely good care of her.”

“no way buddy,” reina takes a hold of your arm and uses all of her strength in order to pull you away from oikawa. “she was my roommate before she was your friend!”

“wow i feel so popular,” you say sarcastically, accompanied with a roll of your eyes. “it’s 1 now and i think i would very much rather be at home right now in my jammies instead of listening to you two bicker back and forth.”

“you don’t mean me do you, y/n?!” reina wails as she clings onto you.

“oh look! it’s a bear!” you point out to the other side of the street and reina snaps her head in the direction you’re pointing in.

“where?!”

with her attention off of you, you take this chance to slip away from her and run towards your dorm building along with oikawa who’s right on your tail.

“you’re... really... fast!” oikawa pants as he speaks in-between breaths. “like a lo— WOAH!”

he trips over a slab of concrete that was out of place and out of reflex, he latches onto the nearest object— and unfortunately, you were the closest thing he could grab onto.

“H-HEY!” you screech when you feel yourself being pulled down onto the ground.

with the split second that he had of clarity, oikawa took advantage of the opportunity and moved his hand under your head so that it wouldn’t make contact with the concrete and his hand, would instead, cushion your fall.

you hit the concrete with an ‘oof!’ and while you were awaiting the sharp pain in the back of your head to come, it never came. instead, you open your eyes only to see oikawa’s brown ones staring right back at you with an astounded expression that mirrored yours.

“so, how are you doing this fine night?” he grins.

“pretty good, up until your dumbass tripped and pulled me down with you,” you snort.

reina gasps dramatically when she catches up to you guys and sees the position you two are in.

“you deny your chumminess with him and then you run off to get all handsy with him!”

“this idiot tripped and then thought it would be a good idea to pull me down with him,” you stand up after oikawa offers to pull you up. “what kind of thought process do you even have to think that i could catch your fall?”

reina squeezes his bicep, triggering him to let out a yelp.

“oh it’s hard alright.” reina smirks as oikawa yanks his arm away.

“do you work out a lot?” you sneak up behind oikawa and put your hands on his broad shoulders.

“yup!” he flexes his arm and gives you both a cheeky smile. “i gained 10 kilograms of muscle mass!”

“1-10?! isn’t that like 20 pounds?!” reina gawks at the volleyball player.

“yeah and guess what, i only grew one centimeter so it was all me baby!” he laughs almost mockingly.

the rest of the walk home was full of laughter and heartwarming bantering between the three of you and you were happy that you were able to meet reina, an amazing roommate, and oikawa, who was a cocky shit but still managed to squeeze a laugh out of you.

it was going to be a long 4 years away from home, but just as long as you were surrounded by the right people, you were sure that these 4 years would fly by in a jiffy.

when you guys finally arrived at your dorm building, you notified reina that you would stay outside and chat with oikawa for a bit and so she gave you the okay and headed up to your room first so that she could get ready for bed since she was about ready to knock out right then and there.

“thanks for walking me home, oikawa,” you pull him in for friendly hug that he didn’t expect, but nevertheless, he hugs back anyway because who is he to decline a hug from you? “i feel bad for having you walk me home even though you probably want to hang out with iwaizumi.

oikawa feels his stomach churn at the mention of his best friend and guilt creeps upon him like bile rising in the back of your throat.

oikawa had turned a blind eye to iwaizumi’s bad habit of playing around with girls and leaving them after he’s had his fair share of fun because iwaizumi was his best friend and despite the drastic transformation he had gone through within the 4 years that they’ve been away from each other, oikawa knew deep down that he was still the iwaizumi he knew and loved— the iwaizumi who had stuck with him through thick and thin during his adolescent years.

however, now that he’s taken the time to familiarize himself with you personally and grow to learn what type of person you were— someone with a good heart but isn’t afraid to voice their own opinions and stand their ground when people try to walk all over them— he can’t help but be greedy and want you all for himself.

“say, y/n,” you give him a soft hum in response which prompts him to continue taking. “you wanna grab some milk bread with me tomorrow at the cafe you were talking about?”

“are you asking me out on a date right now?” you wheeze. “you’re pretty bold for asking out someone you’ve only met twice your entire life.”

“it’s not a date unless you want it to be.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“a platonic date sounds good to me, don’t you think?”

“there’s no such thing as a platonic date, y/n.”

“maybe not to you since you’re probably used to girls flocking around you all the time,” you say and he’s visibly upset at the fact that you think he’s a casanova or something when in reality he still hasn’t had his first girlfriend yet. “so you in? i’ll even call it a date if you’d like.”

“yeah i’m in,” he puts his fist out for a fist bump, which you are content with returning, and he beams at you with the biggest smile you’ve seen him give you. “does the afternoon work for you?”

you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket and open up the contacts app before handing it to the male.

“just give me your number and we can go over the specifics over text tonight.”

he punches in his number, saving the contact as “tooru👽” before handing the device back to you.

“an alien emoji?” you laugh as you read his contact name displayed on your phone. “you’re a dork.”

“like you’re any less of a dork than me.” he playfully rolls his eyes as he pulls his phone out and gives it for you to return the favor.

you clumsily put your number into his phone, accidentally pressing some random digit one too many times, and save your name as “y/n :3” before handing his phone back to him.

“a bunny face?” he threw his head back and let out a humorous laugh.

“shut up!” you give his shoulder a gentle push. “as if an alien emoji is any better, at least my emoticon is cute!”

“yeah yeah, whatever you say.” he slips his phone back into his pocket before giving you one last final hug that feels a bit warmer than the ones he’s given you before.

“get home safe, oikawa.”

his eyes linger on your face for a bit longer than he would’ve liked.

your eyes were crinkled and your smile lines were more prominent up close, but it didn’t stop oikawa’s heart from skipping a beat.

“sweet dreams y/n.”

you awaken the next morning to the sound of your phone ringing and reina’s abnormally loud snoring (you’re surprised that the girls in the next room over haven’t come knocking at your door telling your roommate to snore a little quieter.)

with the sleep still present in your eyes, the brightness of your phone screen causes you to squint before your vision clears up and you’re able to make out the numbers ‘7:30 A.M’ displayed across your screen.

when the haziness finally leaves your system, you take a look outside your window and realize that the only speck of sunlight present at all is the sunlight that’s provided by the rising sun, peeking out from across the horizon.

you mentally curse oikawa out in your head as your fingers dance across your keyboard to type out a brief response to oikawa’s suspiciously ominous text message.

you reluctantly get up from your bed and slip on your fuzzy bunny slippers before treading over to your door, unlocking it, and then swinging it open, revealing your tall, brown-haired friend standing right where he said he would be.

“nice jammies,” he lets loose an unrestrained, boisterous laugh as he reaches out to fix the strap of your tank top which slipped off your shoulder. “i dig the bunny slippers by the way.”

you haphazardly shuffle your feet, gaining a smile from oikawa as he chuckles softly.

“can i come in?” he peers into the room by leaning over a bit where he sees reina sprawled out in a weird position on her bed, snoring loudly.

“uh, reina’s actually asleep,” you sheepishly scratch the back of your head. “the dorms don’t have separate bedrooms, everyone just sleeps in the same room with their respective roommates.”

“so movie night’s no longer in question?”

“i guess if you don’t mind reina being a plus one,” you shrug as you gesture for him to come in, letting him enter the room first so that you can close the door on your way in. “she’s a heavy sleeper so don’t worry about waking her up.”

oikawa throws himself onto your bed, even going as far as to slipping under your covers and making himself right at home, which, you don’t hesitate to scold him for doing so.

“what’s the point of coming all the way over here just to go back to sleep?” you cross your arms as you walk over to your bed, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress.

“the bakery opens at 8:30 so i wanted to pick you up since the walk there is 25 minutes from here,” oikawa pulls his phone out and checks the time. “it’s 7:37 now so hurry and get ready!”

you shuffle over to the worn-out dresser that has been with you since the day you moved into the dorms and pull out the drawers that contain a majority of your most worn pieces. taking into account the outfit that oikawa was currently sporting— an oversized hoodie, a loose pair of sweatpants, and some sneakers that looked to be on the pricier side— you decided that wearing something similar to that would suffice.

“can you turn around?” you ask as you grab a pair of black sweatpants, not bothering to check the design since they looked all the same anyways, and an oversized hoodie that you forgot you even had in your possession.

“hm? why?”

“i’m gonna change?” you shrug. “unless you don’t mind staying here by yourself? or you can just step outside for a minute if you want to.”

“oh yeah, sure.”

you watch as he heeds your request and begins to turn around to face the wall before proceeding to take off your pajamas, making sure to keep a close eye on him just in case he decides to be a peeping tom.

“you know, you’re pretty credulous trusting a guy you’ve only met last week.” he says as he rocks side to side, head still turned facing the wall.

“well i don’t have to worry about you peeping because i’m already done changing,” you pull down the rest of the bunched up fabric of your hoodie that’s around your waist before slipping on a random baseball cap you saw laying around. “even if you did turn around, i have a 5-pound textbook and i’m not afraid to use it.”

oikawa’s about to make a snarky remark in return to your futile threat when suddenly a loud snore escapes reina’s mouth, encouraging the two of you to give each other a flabbergasted look that leads to you both erupting into a fit of hushed laughter.

“let’s go before reina wakes up and gets a heart attack after seeing you in here.”

“no way!”

after exiting the dorm building and beginning your journey with oikawa to the designated cafe, you two arguing about whether or not milk or cereal should go first after oikawa mentioned to you that he was a firm believer of “milk first, cereal last.”

“if you put milk in first then you’re just gonna get less cereal and who the fuck eats cereal just to drink the cereal milk?” you shoot him a grimace.

“when you pour in the cereal after the milk, then it’s just gonna float there and who takes satisfaction in seeing that shit?” you add. “that’s why cereal first is way better because you get a bowl full of cereal and it’s just... perfect!”

“but your cereal is gonna be soggy by the time you put the milk back in the refrigerator!” oikawa retorts.

“then just wait until after you’re done to put it away? how long do you even take to put the milk back in the refrigerator that when you come back your cereal gets all soggy?!”

“and aren’t you supposed to be an athlete? i’m seriously concerned if it takes you at least over 15 seconds just to put back a carton of milk.” you take a jab at him.

“i will not allow this oikawa slander from you!” he stops in his tracks before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“h-hey! put me down! i’m heavy, oikawa!” you squirm around in protest, but oikawa shows no sign of letting you go anytime soon as he starts to pick up his pace.

“i didn’t gain all of that muscle for nothin’ baby!” he laughs maniacally as he’s practically full-on sprinting down the street now.

luckily enough, the cafe was just around the corner of the street that oikawa started running down from which meant there was finally a reason for the male to let you down, despite the fact that you had been punching his back for the last minute or so but you couldn’t seem to crack him, his arms, nor those broad shoulders of his.

you let out a huff of feigned annoyance once you’re down on your feet while oikawa is still laughing his ass off as you two walk into the establishment.

“not funny! i almost dropped my hat when you pulled that stunt!” you complain as you’re frantically trying to fix your hair: when oikawa abruptly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, the baseball cap on your head was about to fall off but thankfully with your reflexes, you were able to catch it in the nick of time— however, at the price of your own hair.

“here, i got you,” oikawa extends his hand out to your head and starts to brush away at your mess of a hair. “if it makes you feel better, it’s on the house.”

“i was gonna make you pay anyways.” you stick your tongue out at him playfully, feigning annoyance.

“pft, and you brought your wallet anyways?” he grabs your wrist and pulls it up so that you could see the object in your hands.

“it has my id in it you doofus,” you roll your eyes but there’s a hint of blush on your face as you realize he’s practically holding your hand. “and what if you forgot your wallet, hm?”

he lets go of your wrist before slipping his hand into his sweatpants pocket and pulling out a black wallet.

“i never forget my wallet sweetheart,” he winks and you laugh. “especially if i know i’m gonna be going out with a pretty lady— don’t wanna leave a bad impression y’know”

“i think you’ve already left quite the impression on me from your stunt earlier.” you bump shoulders with him.

“so see anything you like on the menu?” he puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you over to where the menu is so that you could get a closer look at all of the options the cafe had to offer its customers.

“we’ll... we did come here originally for milk bread,” oikawa notices how deep in thought you are over something as trivial as baked goods and he can’t help but smile a bit when he notices the little pout on your face or the crease that forms on your forehead when you scrunch your face a little bit. “but i wanna try their matcha bread! and their boba looks good, or is it a little bit too early to be drinking boba?”

oikawa’s so lost in thought (*correction: staring at you) that he doesn’t even realize that you’ve been trying to grab his attention by calling his name 5 times— and it’s only when you physically have to shake him a bit that he snaps out of his little daydream.

“oh, sorry!” he gives you an apologetic smile. “what’s up?”

“i was asking if you wanted to share one of their drinks with me but you were too busy staring at me to hear.” you sneer. “do you have a crush on me or something? heh.”

“pshhh, no way!” he has a sheepish look on his face that you can’t stop yourself from laughing at.

“you better not go falling for me anytime soon, you playboy.” you jest while nudging him with your elbow.

“i’m pretty sure i should be the one telling you that,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “i’m surprised you haven’t confessed your undying love for me yet.”

“i don’t fall in love that easily, pretty boy, and i certainly do not fall in love with someone i’ve only recently met.” you snort at his comment.

“hi there! are you two ready to order?” a voice startles you and oikawa as you both turn your heads towards a woman standing behind the counter.

“oh i’m so sorry about that! i’m sure you didn’t come to work just to see the two of us play around.” you giggle as the woman mirrors your action.

“it’s nothing new to me, it seems like this place is a hotspot for couples to come and hang out so it’s kind of the norm for me now.” she reassures you.

“are you a college student?” you ask the cashier, taking note on how she looked to be around your age.

“i actually graduated from culinary school about 2 years ago,” she starts off. “my parents supported me throughout my 4 years of culinary school, but when it came down to actually opening this cafe, my boyfriend— well, fiancé now— helped me look for a good place to rent out and it was history from there!”

“it was a bit hard at first since i was still fresh out of culinary school and i could barely start this business with the funds i had saved up, but thankfully my boyfriend was able to pitch in and help make my dreams come true,” she continues and you feel your heart grow fuzzy at how whenever she mentioned her boyfriend, her face would soften and a small smile would make its way onto her face. “i honestly cannot imagine a life without him, he’s been with me since high school so he’s always known about my longtime dream of owning my own cafe. he’s always been my rock during my hardest times and— oh my! i started rambling didn’t i?”

she starts to apologize for burdening you with her life story, but you dismiss her worries by waving your hands in front of you, oikawa laughing and copying your motions.

“i think he’d be really happy to hear that you think so lovingly of him.” your lips curve into a gentle smile, which the woman reciprocates.

“what’s your name?” she asks.

“i’m y/n! and this big guy is tooru.” oikawa waves at the woman, her following suit.

“ah i see! well y/n and tooru, my name is maia and it’s so nice to meet you two!” she brings her hand out for a handshake, which you and oikawa return. “are you two college students?”

“yeah! i’m actually a student at the university of irvine!” you answer enthusiastically. “tooru is just visiting from argentina at the moment so i wanted to take him around the area before he left.”

“argentina, really?” her mouth forms an ‘o’ shape. “it must be hard doing long distance, huh? i couldn’t even imagine if my fiancé and i had to live that far away from each other.”

you and oikawa turn to look at each other in confusion before an invisible lightbulb goes off in both of your heads and you bring your attention back onto maia, who’s now equally as confused as you two are.

“we’re actually not dating!” the pink hue from earlier creeps back onto your cheeks and from the corner of your eye you can see oikawa fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. “i met him at one of the frat parties i went to last week and we kind of just clicked.”

“i’m so sorry for assuming!” she has a distraught look on her face and you’re quick to tell her that it was just a misunderstanding. “you two just look really cute together, plus i’m also really used to a lot of couples coming here that i was quick to assume that you two were dating!”

“i mean, we’d be a cute couple right, y/n-chan?” gone was the nervous oikawa you saw just a second ago, and back was the cocky oikawa you all know and love.

“you wish!” you scoff, not bothering to shrug off the arm he slung around your shoulder.

“anyways, is it alright if we can get two of your milk breads as well as a matcha bread and a oolong milk tea with boba?” you order and maia quickly input the order into the tablet in front of her.

“will that be all for you today?”

“anything else you want, oikawa?” you ask him but he shakes his head in response. “i think that’ll be all for us today then, maia.”

you’re about to insert your card into the chip holder when suddenly oikawa grabs your arm and plucks the card out of your hand.

“h-hey! what are you doing? give me my card back!”

“didn’t i tell you that it was on the house earlier?” he looks at you with a teasing smirk on his face and before you could protest again, a pleasant sound comes out of the machine, signaling that the transaction was successful.

“such a gentleman! you should snatch him up before someone else does, y/n!” maia coos.

“i think it’d be best for someone else to snatch him up, i don’t think i could handle all of... this.” you motion to his entire body.

“are you flirting with me?” oikawa had a shit-eating grin on his face that you were so tempted to wipe off, but his actions from less than a minute ago still caught you off guard and you had to admit, you were glad he wasn’t a cheapskate and offered to pay in your stead— well, more forced you out of paying.

“thanks, oikawa,” you didn’t know what you had the other day to make you act so bold, but you stood on your tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek out of gratitude. “for being the only gentleman on campus, even though you’re technically not a student here.”

out of instinct, oikawa’s hand immediately flys up to the spot where your lips touched his skin and starts to graze it.

“heh, i like your spunk, y/n.” he shows you a cheeky smile.

“don’t let it get to your head, it was just a complimentary kiss.” you laugh and it sounds more melodious than usual to oikawa’s ears for some reason.

“so...” he starts and you let out a small ‘hm?’ which prompts him to continue. “do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

“i don’t think so? i have the dorm all to myself from when reina goes to her blind date and up until she comes back, so if you wanna do something then i don’t mind squeezing you into my schedule!” you reply, but a thought suddenly resurfaces in your mind. “no frat parties though, i heard one of iwaizumi’s friends are hosting one tonight but i don’t think i can think about another frat party without having to gouge my eyeballs out.”

“got it, no frat parties,” oikawa chuckles. “if it makes you feel any better, i never liked those frat parties anyways and i only went because iwaizumi is the only person i know here which meant i was obligated to follow him around everywhere but now that i know you, it changes the whole game!”

“i’m just as new to california as you are oikawa, don’t get your hopes up too high.”

“but that’s the fun part about it, right? we get to explore california together! it really feels like we’re a couple don’t you think?” he blurts out in the heat of the moment but quickly comes to realize the weight of his words. “oh shit— sorry... i hope you’re not uncomfortable hearing me say that out loud.”

“not at all!” you look down at your shoes for a fleeting moment before looking back up at oikawa. “it’s quite... endearing? i’ve never really had a lot of ‘guy friends’ and mostly hung around with girls so this is the first time i’ve ever really had a guy show any interest in me— platonically of course!”

“and you’ve never ever had a boyfriend before?” oikawa lifts an eyebrow.

“nope, never even had my first kiss,” you say but you think back to the events that took place last night. “well, up until yesterday...”

you tried to hide the grimace on your face as the memory of you and iwaizumi kissing kept playing on repeat in your mind, but oikawa was able to see right through your mask and clenched his fists as he recalled the distressed look on your face when he and reina found you crying in the bathroom.

oikawa believed that you should have deserved to have your first kiss taken by someone who truly loved you, but instead, it was taken away by his scum of a best friend, who, he was currently disappointed in for treating you the way he did last night.

oikawa is about to open his mouth up to say something, but he’s interrupted before he even gets a chance to say anything when maia announces that your order is ready.

“it smells so good, maia!” you say after you skip over to the other side of the counter and take a whiff of the freshly baked pastries.

“oh you’re making me blush, y/n!” maia cups her cheeks bashfully while you laugh at her antics.

you shake up the cup of boba so that the pearls were evenly distributed throughout the drink before taking a straw and puncturing a hole through the film on top of the cup, taking a small sip after you mix the drink around one last time with the straw.

“mhm! so good!” you lean back, not realizing that oikawa had moved to stand right behind you, resulting in you crashing into his chest.

“shit, you scared me oikawa!” you laugh as you slap his chest. “want some?”

you hold the straw up to his lips, and you notice the way his eyes widen by a fraction.

“you wanna share?”

“well yeah? unless you’re scared of getting cooties or something, what are you? 12?” you tease. “or are you worried that it’s an indirect kiss? i can always get another—”

your rambling is cut off when his lips wrap around the straw and he takes a long sip of the drink in your hand.

“there, we just indirectly kissed!” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before shooting you a goofy grin.

“pft, how childish do you have to be to be freaked out over an indirect kiss.” you mumble, but it doesn’t cover up the blood that rushes up to your face, painting your cheeks in a pinkish hue which oikawa finds endearing.

part one | part two | part three | part four

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@katsukibabe • @thecaptainyuri • @satorisflatass • @daphnxy • @aonenthusiast • @felixsamour • @literaleftist

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viperbarnes · 3 years

Text

The Long Last Summer

[B. Barnes] Oneshot

40s Post-War AU

Summary: With Steve off in America again, Bucky finds himself doing his own version of a USO tour through Italy, boosting morale and friendship, or so they tell him. However, a new stationing in the tiny town of Montecarra gives him more reason to want to stay, when he becomes quickly whisked away by wild, carefree and exuberant you.

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of the war, awful awful Italian probably. The reader has a name, but it's still written as a reader insert.

Note: The reader/character in this fic is a black woman. This fic was originally uploaded elsewhere, so if you're a part of the small audience who read it originally please don't panic, it isn't stolen lol. The story is almost entirely spoken in Italian, but doing italics for every conversation was annoying, so just assume that unless otherwise stated! Thank you for reading!

Words: 19.5k [This is very long.... Sorry...]

The hot Italian sun beats down on the town below, the occasional breeze carried overland from the nearby ocean to the west might have been a blessing if that too weren’t humid and warm. Bucky Barnes thinks it should be a sin for it to be so hot so early in the morning, but he’s long past complaining about it. Leaning against his car door, stopped on a hill overlooking the town of Montecarra, Bucky takes another drag of his cigarette before stomping it out. At least he hadn’t woken up in a filthy, sweltering trench, surrounded by hot bodies after another restless night of gunfire filled dreams. At least he was only required to wear his uniform during official ‘work’ hours.

Giving the town, his newest home, one last look, Bucky gets back in the car and makes his way down.

Being a core member of The Howling Commandos these past years, Bucky had earned himself a certain amount of celebrity, both in America and abroad. Especially in Italy. Given that Steve had returned to the States already, and Bucky had expressed some minor interest in staying in Europe a while longer, Colonel Phillips had happily assigned him as a ‘morale liaison’ while the US and other allies sorted out the peace treaties and demilitarisation of Europe.

It made as much sense to Bucky then as it did now. He had come to realise that ‘morale liaison’ was just jargon for ‘dancing, handshaking, smiling, posing monkey’, seeing as most of his time the past two years had been spent shaking hands while smiling and posing for various photos. Usually with politicians. Bucky hated politicians.

Luckily, his newest post, Montecarra, was far more what Bucky had thought he’d be doing when Phillips had given him his orders; helping people rebuild and reclaim their lives in a post-fascist Italy. As he drives through the small town, Bucky thinks briefly that the bulk of it seemed to be almost entirely untouched by the war, the classic Italian architecture and warm coloured buildings homey and welcoming, the cobbled stone streets and walkways looking every part the idyllic Tuscan town, but then he sees it.

Toward the edges of town, Bucky’s eyes catch on a shattered stone building, utterly destroyed. It’s a small ways from the town itself, a little field between it and the nearest houses, and he can’t help but already feel grateful for the fact it looked to be the only place that had been hit by the violence, though he doesn’t deny the unseen scars that no doubt linger on the people themselves.

He quickly looks away and continues on to his residence.

There was no army base or fortifications in Montecarra, the nearest being in Florence, but The people had kindly offered up a small, newly unowned cottage for the military to house any visiting soldiers in during their stay. When he finally gets to be shown around by the nearest neighbour, a friendly older woman, he’s glad that for the time being, he has it to himself.

He gets himself settled, partially unpacks his bags before getting bored and making his way out to the blooming garden, camera in hand. It had been a gift from Steve, sent for his birthday the previous year when the two had not been able to reunite, and although Bucky had much preferred putting pencil to paper before he’d owned his own camera, he’d found in recent months, as the cold receded and the sun came out, he’d picked up a knack for photography.

The fact that this model was an ‘instant’ model, making it so that after each photo he took, a little slip of paper would spit out and slowly develop the image, certainly aided his newfound love for the hobby. When he had been a kid, his Ma would take the family to have their pictures taken once a year, and the results always took days or weeks.

Lifting the camera to his eye, Bucky peeks through and aims it at a tall bushel of bougainvillea, the bright red against the butter-coloured walls of his cottage making him wish the photos weren’t just black and white.

He snaps a few more floral shots, wondering absently if he’ll be able to buy more photo paper in town. With the sun still high in the sky, he decides that he may as well take a short walk, if not to introduce himself to some of the locals, then to answer his question.

Honestly, the unendingly friendly reception he’d received everywhere he went never ceased to surprise him. Two years ago Italy had been the enemy or the soldiers and government at least. For the most part, the people caught in the crossfire had been weary and scared, but helpful where they could be to Allied soldiers. Still, the warmth they seemed to hold him, and other allied soldiers with was always a little startling at first.

By the time he makes it to the centre of town, he’d been kissed on his cheeks more times than he could count, but interestingly, the people of Montecarra weren’t as clingy as he’d found some other towns and cities… After greeting him, they’d happily left him alone, though with numerous and repeated offers to have him for dinner.

Once unable to stand doing nothing at all, and always on the go, the young man Bucky had once been, had evolved into a quieter, more solitary version of himself. He still liked to have fun, mind you, he’d learnt to take enjoyment and pleasure where he could in the army, but his sniper’s life had taught him contentedness with his own company. Bucky was fine being alone, without chatter or noise to distract him. He’d come to prefer it, actually.

Bucky finds that Montecarra’s central space was a large set of four courtyards, separated by various important municipal buildings and shops, and at the centre point, an old communal well that had been made into a fountain. Without thinking, Bucky lifts his camera to snap a shot of the fountain. He loved New York more than anything, and he couldn’t wait to return home, but damn if he hadn’t fallen hard for European architecture.

He’s still waving the little piece of photo paper back and forth to help it develop when loud laughter and the familiar noise of children playing reaches his ears. It startles him slightly, Montecarra wasn’t exactly sleepy, but it was quiet, and the residence all seemed to be of an older sort, he hadn’t seen many children yet, though a look at his watch tells him that might have been due to school.

A small gaggle of children of various ages come skipping into view across from the fountain, chatting loudly and seemingly unaware of the previous peace that had reigned in the town square. Unlike in New York, however, Bucky notices not a single patron of the nearby outdoor restaurant throws them dirty looks or hisses at them to quiet down, if anything, the people nearby pause to watch for a few seconds, not with disdain written on their faces, but soft, gentle smiles, before they return to their business.

A voice calling out from the back of the group, noticeable for its maturity in comparison to the children’s voices, catches Bucky’s attention and he lets his gaze skip over the scene until it lands on you, and suddenly, he’s breathless.

Bucky Barnes had seen a lot of beautiful women in his time, and had been lucky enough to know a number of them too, but you, you are something else entirely.

It’s your smile he notices first, plush rosy brown lips pulled wide in a joyful grin, so magnetising he finds himself unable to look away. Your hair is long, curly and dark, brushed into waves that the humidity and breeze seemed set on ruining, and with one hand you secure your wide brim sun hat as you chase the kids. Your white blouse is laced around the open collar and both it and the bright yellow of your skirt stand out against your syrupy brown skin, smooth and a little shiny from the sun.

“Here! Roberto, Norma, come sit here a moment! Look at the fountain!” You beckon the children, two strays in particular, over toward the fountain, and much like Bucky, the kids seem magnetised to you as well. You float right up to the water, sitting on the edge as the children all gather around, still chatting and playing loudly, though a little more orderly now.

Bucky watches you swipe a hand through the cool water, smiling and speaking animatedly with one of the children. He wonders if you were perhaps their teacher, but he’s snapped away from his thoughts a moment later.

“That man has a camera! Look!”

Bucky blinks, tearing his eyes from you, even as the children, and you, all now turn your attention to him in varying shades of wonderment. He’s still a small distance away, but it doesn’t matter as not even a second later, he’s being swamped by the pack of energetic youngsters.

“Are you a photographer?!”

“Can I see it?!”

“Will you take my picture!?”

The last request sets off a frenzy, the rest of the children all joining in to ask for their picture taken, and honestly, Bucky doesn’t even think he has enough paper for that.

“Hey! Mascalzoni! Leave the poor man alone!” You appear then, hands on your hips, not even two meters away and Bucky thinks he could faint.

“Oh, they’re—” He cuts himself off, switching to Italian.

“They’re fine, really… I just don’t think I have the photo paper for it…” He explains, trying his best to look you in the eye, but not quite making it. You cock your head in sympathy, and clap once, getting the children’s attention once more.

“Come on, stop it. Can’t you see you’ve scared him?!” You say playfully, though Bucky wants to correct that it isn’t them he’s scared of.

“How are we supposed to get more tourists to Montecarra if you’re all scaring them away, huh?!” You continue, crossing your arms and the kids seem to relent somewhat, whining a little as they back up from Bucky. You give him another, apologetic smile.

“Come along, you all better get home before your mothers’ tan your hides!” You say, making a shooing motion that makes Bucky second-guess his teacher theory. Before any of them can begin to move though, he takes half a step forward, holding up his camera.

“Wait, I can— I can take a photo of you all together…” He says, and watches as even your face lights up, though as the children all begin to excitedly gather in front of the fountain, you step away, to his side.

“You don’t want to be in it?” He asks, throwing you a sideways glance and yep, you’re still just as pretty as before. You smile and shake your head.

“No. Not this time.” he doesn’t know what you mean by that, but focuses back on the children, raising the camera and snapping a shot of the children, smiling brightly.

Chaos ensues once again when the paper pops out of the bottom, further exciting the group as Bucky attempts to hold the picture out of their reach while it develops, unable to stop himself from chuckling at how spirited they were. It had been a long time since he’d seen any kid so carefree. Perhaps that was why the townspeople were so unphased by their noise earlier.

After the picture is passed around for all to see, you clear your throat and jerk your head away again.

“Go on, clear out now.” Far more happily the children bid each other goodbye, a few moving in pairs or trios as they split off in separate directions.

Bucky is all too aware that you’re still standing near him, and he focuses on cleaning his camera lens with his sleeve.

“Thank you.” You say kindly, with a slight bow of your head, and he finds himself shrugging and shaking his head.

“It’s alright, really.” he pauses, and then;

“Are you their teacher?” He doesn’t expect the surprised laugh you let out, shaking your own head vigorously.

“Hell no. I don’t have the patience for that! We were just walking the same way.” Bucky blinks, not expecting your language, though he finds it endearing, a little more grounding. He laughs.

“I see.”

“You’re the soldier, yes? From America?” The subject change catches him out for a moment, but he’s nodding a moment later.

“Sergeant James Barnes, ma’am.” He almost salutes, doesn’t and then thinks better of it, giving you one anyway. You cock your head at him, an amused smile pulling at your lips.

“I thought soldiers wore uniforms?” You fold your hands in front of you, and Bucky blinks, down at his casual civilian clothes, and then back at you.

“Oh, I, well, I do, but only when I’m working, these days…” You laugh good-naturedly at his awkward delivery.

“I was only teasing. I’ve heard from Rome that soldiers spend just as much time out of their uniforms as in them.” You say it easily, with a playful chuckle, but the risque connotations don’t go over his head, his eyebrows lifting high in his surprise.

Were you… flirting…? Or was this just how you were?

“Well, Sergeant Barnes, it was lovely to meet you.” You’re stepping back, giving him another smile (were you always smiling? He wants to know, now), and a little wave before you begin to turn. Bucky flounders at your fast retreat and panics.

“Uh, wait!” You look back, and he swallows.

“What’s… what’s your name?” You chuckle and push your hair behind your shoulder.

“Cristina.” You tell him and he repeats it, trying to roll the ‘r’ like you do, which makes you laugh again.

“People usually just call me Nina.” You offer a moment later and Bucky nods, before giving you his own, more commonly used nickname.

“Bucky?” You repeat, almost unsure, but when he nods, mouth dry at hearing his name on your lips, you smile and nod.

“Bucky. I will see you around, Bucky.” And with that, he watches dumbly, awestruck in his place as you float out of the plaza.

—-

The warm breeze carries through the open windows of your house, sending the scents from the kitchen below wafting around the rooms. You’d already finished your work for the day, and the chores your mother assigned you, and with a slight pep in your step, you finish tying the scarf around your hair and grab your book.

“Mama? I’m going to read!” You call out, pausing for a moment to listen for her reply. You hear a faint humming above the radio and quickly take your leave, skipping down the front steps of your home and out of the walled front courtyard.

Montecarra is hot and warm, like it had been every other day this week, but you don’t mind. The streets you pass through on the way to your nook are quiet, with only the occasional Nonna in her garden, or returning from the markets. There had been more people here once, a long time ago, and in your childhood days you remember visitors, passing through and admiring your home on their way to other places. You missed that deeply, but push it from your mind, trying not to sour your day at the thought of your already sleepy town becoming sleepier.

You reach your normal place quickly, little plaza toward the outskirts of town, many of the houses here empty now. One of the homes, a double storied one like your own, has a tall garden wall that sits in the shade of the tall tree behind it. Midway through the wall, high enough to take some effort to climb, sit a series of three empty archways, glassless windows that give a view of the overgrown garden within, and from the other side of the little square beyond.

Nobody came to this part of town, not anymore, and in recent years, you’d found it the perfect place to sit unbothered. Tucking your book under your arm, you hitch your skirt up a little, and use one of the roots that climbs and decorates the wall with green ivy as a foothold. The archway isn’t high, but you certainly couldn’t get to it without a little help.

Once situated, you lean back against the pillar, bringing your feet up in front of you, and rest your book against your thighs and knees. You lose yourself quickly in the words, devouring the stories of far away places, detectives and mystery and murder. When the Nazi’s had been here, you hadn’t been allowed to freely enjoy such things. You’d been hidden away, scared everyday would be your last, but it had never come. They had left, and you had been safe again once more.

It was why you enjoyed sitting outside, in the sun and warm, basking in a world that was purely yours again.

Well, not just yours.

A quiet, but pointed cough makes you jump slightly, and you whip your head to find the source, shutting your book on instinct before your eyes find him, and you smile.

“Good Afternoon, Sergeant Barnes!” You greet, and the man returns your smile, lifting his hand briefly. You had known he was coming of course, your whole town did. He was helping the men rebuild the old schoolhouse, though he seemed to have finished that task for the day, as you had finished yours.

He was a handsome man, with dark hair and blue eyes, his pale skin lightly tanned on his face and arms from days in the Italian sun. He was young, though older than you, likely nearing his late twenties if you were correct. You hadn’t known who he was during the war, but afterwards, you’d had plenty of newspaper fodder to read. You think most of it must have been trash though, because the man the magazines and gossip columns had labelled as a charming, suave ladies man could not be the same one that stood before you now.

“Bucky. Bucky is fine, Senora Cristina.” He replies, his eyes dropping a little as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Well then you must call me Nina.” You reply, keeping up your smile for when he looks back at you. When he realises you haven’t looked away from him, he quickly averts his gaze again, but clears his throat and looks around the empty plaza, waving a hand.

“Quiet spot?” He asks, and you turn from where your back is pressed against the brick, swinging your legs over the side of the wall to face him properly. You nod.

“Yes. The people who lived in this part left. We don’t know if they’ll come back or…” You trail off, pursing your lips briefly, but shake your head. No. No time to dwell.

“It’s a good place to come to be alone.”

“Oh, I can— I can leave if you’d lik—” Bucky’s face falls into anxiety stricken concern as he gestures with his thumb toward the little road you think he must have come from, but you cut him off quickly, laughing.

“I was not attempting to chase you away!” You tell him, and he drops his hand back to his side. For a few seconds he just looks at you, like he’s unsure of what to say, and so you fill the silence the best you can.

“How do you like Montecarra?” Bucky nods quickly, his body language immediately relaxing somewhat. You wonder if you make him nervous because he’s unsure how to speak to women, or if it might be something else.

“It’s beautiful. I haven’t been able to stop looking, you know? We don’t have towns like this where I’m from.” You smile at his clear enthusiasm, and cock your head. You’d never been to America, you’d never even really been more than a few miles from your home, so you can’t imagine what towns must look like there.

“The people are friendly, I mean, everyone is friendly everywhere, but the people here are… they don’t seem to want to be around me twenty-four-seven.” He adds, and then clamps his mouth shut, as if he’d forgotten who he was talking to. You think maybe he hasn’t been around friends in a while. You shrug, and chortle.

“Oh, that’s just how we are. My Papa used to say that in the cities, nobody can leave each other alone because they don’t make real connections… but here and other small towns, we’re all we have, and after a while, you just get sick of each other.”

Bucky laughs, loudly and heartily, and you think it is a lovely sound. He says something in English, you think you hear ‘christ’, but he sobers, still smiling.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

“Though, you should be wary of signora Cavalli… she’s like a venus flytrap, you know?” You say seriously, but with a conspiratorial edge so that he knows you are only mostly joking. Bucky cocks his head in confusion, but chuckles.

“A what?!”

“A venus flytrap! You know! It’s a plant that looks all bright and colourful, but when bugs land on it it snaps shut!” You clap your hands together in demonstration.

“And then it eats them.”

“Are you… are you telling me signora Cavalli is going to eat me?” Bucky asks, eyebrows high and you take a moment to dramatically look him over.

“No. I don’t think you are her type. But she will start a conversation that will not end until either you or her dies, and trust me, she’s really old.” Bucky laughs again, hand on his belly this time, his head thrown back again, and you can’t help but break ‘character’ to laugh with him.

“Right. Avoid signora Cavalli. Gotcha.” He says as he calms, and again, he seems to have relaxed even more, the little pull that you had noticed between his brow yesterday, and earlier, even when he wasn’t frowning, had all but disappeared.

“Sounds like I need your guidance here. Clearly.” He continues, and you can’t help but feel excited by the prospect. You nod vigorously, and hop down from your ledge.

“Oh, definitely. I have lived here my whole life, I know all there is to know!” You tuck your book back under your arm and step nearer.

“I can show you around! There is more to Montecarra than there looks!” You pause and shrug.

“Well, a little more, at least.” Bucky appears torn for a moment, his face scrunching back into a polite concern as he holds his hands up.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, signora, I mean, Nina…” You roll your eyes and fold your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, signore, but there isn’t exactly anybody else my age around here… really you’d be doing me the favour…” He opens his mouth, but you quickly beckon him in a direction before he can argue, and you hear a faint sigh, and a few seconds later he’s matching your easy pace.

“I did notice that, actually…” He confirms, and you feel his gaze on the side of your face. His hands are back in his pockets, and he walks a respectable distance next to you.

“Well, there weren’t all that many to begin with but all the boys went off to fight, and the girls either got married and moved away, or left to study somewhere else.” You try to keep your voice light and airy, try not to betray your jealousy or sadness.

You had wanted to move to Paris and study, or London, anywhere, but the shadows of war had already begun, and it had been too uncertain. Looking back, you were reluctantly glad you had not been elsewhere. Your mother had needed you too much.

You come to another small courtyard, with a large tree at its center. It was one of the oldest in the town, and this part of the village had been built around it, as was obvious from the uneven and cracked stone ground, where the roots had grown large and disruptive.

You sling a hand around the trunk, slowly circling it in a careful swing, and Bucky oddly does the same, moving opposite you, so you are always on different sides. Oftentimes you were called childish or immature by others in Montecarra, though they never meant you harm by it. You were young at heart, and always would be. You know it was not proper for young women your age to be so restless, but you couldn’t sit still. Even just walking normally was a little boring after a while. You think it’s nice that this American man doesn’t ask you to stop or to stand still.

“You didn’t though?” Bucky asks, and then hurries to clarify.

“Get married or move away, I mean.” You chortle and lean a little further forward to see his face better as you both continually circle the tree.

“I was not good enough in school,” You lie.

“And no man would have me.” You laugh as you say it, not really meaning it. When there had been boys around Montecarra, you’d had no shortage of prospects, though how many of them would have actually married you was another question entirely.

Bucky scoffs, making an odd noise in his throat, and he fixes you with a look of disbelief.

“Well I know that can’t be right…” You smile, but look away at his kind words, before another thought hits you, and you stop moving, holding onto either side of the tree as you lean around it slightly.

“Montecarra must be exceptionally boring for you.”

Bucky stops moving too, and instead leans his side against the trunk, arms crossing over his chest as he looks down at you casually, eyebrow raised in question.

“To be in such a small town, with no women who aren’t married. Compared to Paris or Rome, I mean.”

You gasp suddenly then, and quickly switch sides, making Bucky have to turn too, and you can’t suppress your cheeky grin.

“Unless of course it’s married women who you’re after. No need to worry about commitment there.” You wiggle your eyebrows and Bucky’s face turns into a molten mess of amusement and bashfulness, sprinkled with pink cheeks.

He uncrosses his arms awkwardly and clears his throat uncomfortably, and you chortle, shaking your head. There was certainly part of him you could see being charming and suave, but for the most part, Sergeant James Barnes just seemed sweet. Eventually he just laughs too, also shaking his head, and he looks off for a moment, before he carefully turns to mirror your hold on the tree, leaning just slightly around it to look at you.

He still wears a coy look of meekness when he shrugs.

“You’re a woman who isn’t married, aren’t you?” He says softly, carefully, as if he’s not sure how you will respond, and does not wish to offend.

Offence is the last reaction in your mind though, instead you feel as if the world stops for a moment, and all that exists is you, this man, and the tree between you. Despite the carefulness of his words, his expression is a little harder, his gaze locked on yours more intense and you have to force yourself to look away, pulling back from the tree just to catch your breath and your rapidly beating heart.

Perhaps Sergeant James Barnes was sweet, but Bucky Barnes was a little more savoury than that. Suddenly, some of the things you’d read make more sense, and you find yourself reconsidering your interactions. Had he specifically sought you out? Or had he just been wandering and it was a happy coincidence. You lean toward the latter but perhaps he had hoped to see you again after your brief meeting yesterday?

You wipe these thoughts from your mind as Bucky too steps away from the tree, and fix him with an innocent smile and a shrug of your shoulder as you begin stepping backwards, ready to move along.

“I am.” You say simply, unsure of what else you even could say, but the moment seems to pass, and Bucky finally tears his eyes from you, watching his step as he makes to follow you again, down another narrow street.

You make light small talk with him as you move into busier parts of town, still a little shaken from his flirting (if that was what it was). He doesn’t seem to mind, and you realise you don’t need to fill the silence all of the time. He seems content to just look and watch, but when you do speak, to tell him something, or point out a particular shop, he listens carefully.

When you make it to one of the central courtyards of Montecarra, near the fountain where you had met him yesterday, you see that the afternoon sellers have set up at the market stalls where you’d been only this morning, helping sell. Jobs and money were hard to come by in your town, everything was so small and insular, and in the aftermath of the war, people had cared less about money to pay for goods and services, but rather taking care of each other in any way they could.

You were luckier than most towns, you’d been spared the massive damage of other places, but with resources still low, and many people still getting back on their feet, feeding each other had become a community job. Bakers would gladly accept trade for their bread, and doing chores or work for others had become a reliable way to not only give back but to earn too. The shops that had managed to remain open were supportive where they could be, and it made your heart swell several sizes to know that the war had not driven your people apart.

Bucky seems to take in the sights and smells of the markets with a dreamily like gaze, his eyes roaming over the leftover morning breads, some meats and vegetables that had not been bought or traded earlier in the week and where now for sale far cheaper.

Your stomach growls, reminding you that you have not yet eaten since your breakfast, and you groan. Usually you’d have set off home for lunch, or brought something with you, before returning to your nook, but being with Bucky had distracted you.

He looks down at you in response to your groan and you scrunch your nose.

“I would suggest we eat, but I left my purse at home.” You explain. Bucky blinks, and looks over at the food, then back at you.

“If you’re hungry, I can, I have my—” You tune him out accidentally as your mind conjures up a thought, and stop suddenly, reaching out and grabbing Bucky’s arm in excitement. He stops speaking and stares down at you.

“I have a better idea…!” You say, grinning widely, and he cocks his head, looking slightly hesitant.

You release his arm only to grab the rolled sleeve of his shirt, pulling him along after you down a sidetreet.

“What— Where are we going…?” He asks, and then continues.

“And why do I feel like it’s going to be trouble?” You laugh loudly, and throw him a look over your shoulder, releasing his sleeve at last when you’ve led him through a maze of tiny alleys and narrow streets and out to the edge of town, near the main road he’d driven in on.

“Trust me.” You say, drawing out the words long and sing-songy.

“Give me reason to…” He mutters, but when you look over at him again, you can see he’s only playing the part of exasperated, his lips pulled up in the corners, and his eyes amused.

He follows you as you lead him up a long road, well away from town and towards where the fields and fields of orchards and vineyards begin. When you veer off the side of the road, toward one of the wooden fences, he stops.

“What are you doing?” He asks, a little more nervous than before, and you turn to face him fully.

“We’re going into the orchard to pick some fruit.” He fixes you with a squinted stare.

“Something tells me that we’re not supposed to do that…” You roll your eyes.

“Nobody will know. Besides, we’ll only take a few.” You bat your eyelashes the best you can manage and watch his resolve crumble. When he sighs, hanging his head while shaking it, you know you’ve got him, so you smile widely and quickly return to making your way up the fence.

Bucky at first seems concerned with you climb, moving quickly over to attempt to lend you a hand, but you hardly need it, lifting your skirt and easily scaling the posts before you land on the other side. Bucky stares at you for a moment longer, before planting his hands on the top piece of wood, and in one large jump, vaults the thing entirely.

You laugh at the sight, and cock your head.

“They teach you that in the army?” You tease, leading him away from where you might be spotted by the road, and into the thick rows of trees.

“Brooklyn, actually.” He tells you, and you spy him repeatedly looking over his shoulder and around, as if suspecting some kind of ambush. You pause, nearly causing him to walk into you, and put your hand on his arm again.

“Nobody is out here. It gets too hot in the afternoons, so they do all their daily harvesting in the mornings.” Bucky stares down at you, the little crease between his brows returning, but he nods at your words anyway.

Turning away from him, you once more gather up part of your skirt, lifting it well above a decent length, to use as a basket of sorts as you start inspecting some of the goods on ‘offer’.

“The peaches are especially good this time of year.” You say over your shoulder, reaching out to gently squeeze a few hanging from the nearest tree.

“I— What…?” Bucky asks, and when you look back at him, you see the vague pinkness back in his cheeks and refrain from rolling your eyes. Instead, you plaster on an innocent smile and hold up one of the fruits you’d plucked from the branch.

“The peaches. They’re very ripe right now. Montecarra always has the juiciest peaches. You can’t eat them without getting your fingers and mouth all sticky.” You look away then, placing the peach into your skirt and fight yourself to keep from laughing. Bucky remains quiet behind you, until you hear him let out a slightly shaky breath.

“Jesus fucking christ…” He mumbles in English, and you wipe the grin from your face before he can see it, as he finally steps closer to join you.

You end up with a nice collection of peaches, apples and some figs. You don’t take much, just a few, and by the time you’re walking the road back into town, your grumbling stomach is sated. You spent a few hours walking along the rows of trees, just talking and eating.

Before you properly enter Montecarra, Bucky tosses your peach pits, and you watch them fly through the air and disappear into some of the empty fields beyond. He looks down at you with a rather cute, proud and expectant smile, and you nod, clapping just slightly.

“Perhaps they will grow and we will have our own orchard.” You tell him, and he sniffs in amusement.

“Or we’ll have to explain where we got the seeds from in the first place.”

“Or that.” You laugh, nudging his side.

You notice he’d stopped keeping quite as large a distance between you when you walked, though you don’t know if it was conscious or not. The late afternoon sun bathes Montecarra in orange and red and shadows, and by the time you’ve walked across town to where you live, the sunset is well and truly in motion.

Sensing your time has come to an end, Bucky slows slightly, stopping when you turn back to him, and point to your house.

“I live here.” You tell him, and he shoves his hands in his pockets with a nod.

“My mama will expect me to help with dinner.” You explain further, though you aren’t sure why. You didn’t need a reason to part with him, it was early evening now and you’d spent the better half of five hours walking and talking and stealing fruit together.

You see Bucky’s eyes drift behind you, past the open archway of the wall that held your home behind it, and then back to you.

“Thanks for showing me around today. You didn’t have to.” He says and you smile, but shrug.

“Of course.”

You hold his gaze for a moment longer before he nods, pulling a hand from his pocket to give you a parting wave.

“Goodnight.” He says softly, and turns, beginning to make his way back.

You step forward without thinking too much and call out, making him pause and look back at you.

“I— I work in the mornings, but you can always find me at the same place, where I was reading today. From about midday on. I’m always there… if you ever want to see me again.” You try to play it off cooler than you feel, shrugging a bit and giving him a nonchalant grin, but he only watches you.

Just as you start to feel discomfort creep in her shifts, dipping his chin slightly and cocking his head.

“I would like to see you again.” He says at last, and it’s just like earlier, around the tree. You feel a thick tension form between you, and even though he’s several meters away from you now, you feel like he may as well have been directly in front of you.

All you can manage is a nervous chuckle, dropping your eyes to the floor and anxiously tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Okay.” You say, and he must take that as your approval, because he smiles softly, and gives you one last parting nod before he walks away.

You watch him go for longer than you’d like to admit, right up until he disappears and you hear your mama call you from the front door.

—-

You see Bucky most days. After you had finished with your daily workload, you would return as normal to your little archway, only pretending to read until Bucky arrived. Sometimes he would bring his own book, and sit beside you in one of the opposite arches, but most days you spent walking aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing.

He would tell you about New York city, describing the streets and the buildings and the people in such detail you could see it in your mind. He’d show you pictures of places he’d been, other cities and towns in Italy and France and you’d been unable to keep from fawning dramatically over each.

You’d been warned by a few of the older local ladies, that American soldiers were notorious for the dalliances with girls, they’d have them and leave them, moving on to the next place as if it were nothing. But Bucky is different, you think. You weren’t so naive to think a man set on simply chasing what he wanted would change for just you, but Bucky never showed intention to chase. Not really.

He was kind, and sweet, and he never spoke to impress you like you’d seen with some boys before. He listened to you, asked for your opinions on subjects you spoke about and never assumed that you weren’t informed. You had revealed your love for reading to him, and he’d not complained once when you’d ranted for far too long about the plot of your newest book.

He never even tried to hold your hand, which was beginning to trouble you. You had given him plenty of opportunity, walking accidentally too close, and brushing your hand by his just slightly. He’d always apologised or ignored it, and you were becoming frustrated. It was not as if his flirting had stopped, when the opportunity arose he’d coyly spout sweet things that made your stomach churn something awful.

You look up from the page you’d been staring at for the past ten minutes without really seeing it, and blink. Perhaps you were wrong and he was just this way all of the time… but then you remember the moments of intense eye contact when he’d look at you and it felt like nothing else in the world existed at all.

No. no, you decide that perhaps you will have to give him a little push.

“Has d’Artagnan won the heart of Lady Constance yet? Or is love dead?” The voice, his voice, startles you so much you squeak, whipping around to find where Bucky has situated himself against the same wall your archway sits in, leaning on one shoulder with his arms crossed over his chest.

Today he hadn’t changed from his morning’s work, and you have to simply give yourself a moment to take in his uniform. It wasn’t the dress greens you’d seen on men in the newspapers, instead he wears a greeny-brown colour, the material slightly thicker in appearance, rougher almost. In lieu of the long dress coat, he wears a jacket that ends just over where you imagine his belt might be, cinching in his form rather nicely. His shirt bears the same colour as his suit, but his tie is a familiar khaki. Pins and medals and ribbons adorn his chest and you want to inspect each one up close, but you refrain.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, sweetheart.” He flashes a smile, letting you know he’d noticed your long, admiring stare. Sunglasses cover his own eyes, refusing you access to their cool colour, and you hope he takes them off. Your mouth feels dry but you force yourself to shift to face him, hanging your legs over the side of the wall once more.

“Startled is not scared.” You correct, and watch as he pushes off from the wall casually, making his way to where you sit. He’s tall enough that should he so wish, he could climb into your archway no problem, but he doesn’t, simply resting his folded arms on the ledge next to your legs, looking up at you. At this angle, you can see behind his glasses, to where his eyes fixate on your face.

“You didn’t answer my question?” He probes and you have to think back, unsure of what he’d even asked you.

“Has d’Artagnan won over Lady Constance yet?” He reminds you, reaching out to pluck your copy of The Three Musketeers from your lap and study the cover.

“No, I was going to read more last night but the power went out again and I don’t trust myself not to fall asleep with a candle burning.” You sigh, pushing some hair from your eyes. Bucky places the book gently back down and hums.

“Did you come straight from work?” You ask, switching the subject, and as if he doesn’t notice his clothing, he peeks down at himself briefly, before he cocks his head and gifts you another grin.

“What, can’t a guy wear his uniform around a gal to impress her?” He counters, clearly joking. You scoff anyway and lightly shove his arm.

“I think I’m sick of military uniforms…” You had meant it as a continuation of his joke, but you mean the words far too much to avoid the melancholy that seeps in.

You force yourself to look away, and take a few deep breaths.

Bucky had gotten around to asking you the obvious question of how you, with your brown skin and ‘ethnic’ features, had not suffered during the war. You told him the truth; that your neighbours had hidden you and your mother in attics and basements for nearly five years.

He’d been quiet and pensive on your answer, before telling you he understood why you spent so much time in the ridiculously hot sun. He’d made you laugh, something that you hadn’t ever thought you could do when speaking about your time during the war.

A hand gently, feather-light, curls over your own in your lap, and it takes everything in you not to jump. When you look back at him, his features are sad and serious and he gives your fingers a squeeze.

“Me too, darlin’.”

You want to say something, to maybe turn your hand over and feel his palm against yours, but before you can he removes it from yours, pushing back off the wall.

“I had an idea earlier, when we were clearing the rubble away.” He extends his arm to you, waiting patiently for you to make the short jump down from your perch. Linking your arm with his, he turns you to begin walking, but reaches out and plucks your book from you, tucking it into his jacket.

“An idea? I’m not helping with the mess…” You tease, and he gives you a sideways look.

“No. Riccardo said if I were truly suffering so much in the heat, I should go to the beach.” You perk immediately, gasping softly. You hadn’t been to the beach in so long.

“The beach!” You repeat, and Bucky grins, pride showing clearly through at his effort to delight you.

“I was thinking we could grab my camera, and head on down for the afternoon. I don’t think I have anything to swim in but even just dipping my toes…” You’re already nodding frantically, pulling away from his arm as you clap and do a little jump. You really couldn’t help it, you hadn’t been down to the water in many years.

“Yes! Though, did he tell you how long a walk it was? We should be careful of it getting too dark, my mama has already started—”

“—We can just drive.” Bucky shrugs, and you pause, blinking. Yes, you knew he had a car the army lent him, you’d seen it once or twice even but…

“I’ve…” You trail off and stop speaking entirely, shaking your head, and trying to plaster back on your previous excitement, but Bucky had already seen the slight fall to your face, and he frowns.

“What? What’s wrong?” He steps forward, toward you a little, his hand absently out as if to take your arm, though he drops it a moment later.

“It’s nothing. It’s silly.” You attempt to brush him off but he only moves closer still, right up to you now, and this time, the tension isn’t the same as it had been before.

His head bows down toward you, his frame nearly cocooning yours, if anybody were to be standing behind him, they likely would not be able to see you. His hand does touch your arm this time, comforting, concerned and all of it makes your heart flutter like a million happy butterflies.

“I… It’s just that… I’ve never been in a car before.” You admit, and it really is a silly thing to make such a fuss over. Bucky must breathe a sigh of relief that your dramatics hadn’t been about something more serious, but you don’t see his expression or body language change at all for a few seconds.

“... Ever…?” When he does speak, there’s no amusement in his voice, no awe at how backwards and small your growing up had been that you’d never been in a car. He just… asks.

You shrug.

“We don’t need them here…” His face does relax a little, and he must realise how much he’s been crowding you because he clears his throat and shuffles back slightly, letting his hand leave your arm.

“Well… I think you’ll like it. It’s fast.” He says, before frowning.

“Not— not too fast.” He adds, and you have to smile.

“Well… Why don’t I go put my book away, I’ll find some bread and fixings and you can go change, and I will meet you at your cottage?” You suggest. You didn’t want to go all the way down to the beach without some sort of food, even if he said the trip would be fast in his car. It would also give you a chance to change from your day dress into something that you wouldn’t mind getting a little wet or sandy.

Bucky nods.

“Yeah. Okay. You know where it is?” You roll your eyes.

“Of course.” He hangs his head a little, and lifts his hands in defeat.

“Small town, grew up here. Got it.” You laugh. He’d mentioned once how even though he’d spent his whole life in Brooklyn, knew the streets and the major locations like the back of his hand, there were still places he’d never know where to even start looking for.

You part ways then, and quickly hurry home, the excitement thrumming through your veins once again. Not only were you going to get to go to the beach, but you were going to ride in a car!

You toss your book onto your bed without a second thought, quickly undressing and slipping on a lighter, older dress. It’s faded pale blue told it’s age, but the fabric was thinner, meaning you would have no problem if it got wet. You decide not to bother with stockings, removing both them and your garter in favour of feeling the sand with your bare feet instead, and slip your shoes back on.

Before you leave your bedroom, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and pause. Turning your face from side to side, you inspect your features carefully. You never bothered with makeup, it was expensive and you’d only end up sweating it off, but your eyes do linger on your lips for a moment.

Creeping upstairs, you sneak into your mother’s bedroom. She was out for coffee at one of your neighbours, still, you feel nervousness take hold when you find the small golden tube in her drawer. Taking a deep breath, you uncap the lipstick and lean forwards for a better view, before carefully swiping the deep red colour across your lower lip. You follow suit with the upper, fixing it here and there, and swiping to try and neaten it up, but when you stand back to inspect yourself, you groan in frustration.

You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, and your painted lips and bareface didn’t communicate that at all. Grabbing a tissue, you quickly work to remove the makeup, rubbing at your lips until the bulk of the colour is off. However, when you stop to check again, you find the red has somewhat stained your skin. It only really adds a subtle flushed red over your usually brown lips, but it's still noticeable, and you panic, grabbing another tissue and trying again to no avail.

Time ticks by and you check your watch, not wanting to make Bucky wait too long, and so you pocket the stained tissues and take a last look in the mirror. Your shoddy clean up job would have to do. At least the stains were on your lips and not around them.

In the kitchen you gather up a small selection of items in a basket, just some bread and butter and homemade jam, and tuck an old blanket over the top to secure it all, and so that you could sit on it later. Checking everything one last time, you slide the basket to the crook of your arm and close up your house behind you.

You have to stop yourself from skipping as you make your way through the streets, smiling and greeting those who pass you politely and not like a mad woman. By the time you make it to Bucky’s little cottage, you can already see him leaning back against the car, waiting. He straightens when he sees you, smiling as you slow down, feeling almost hesitant about approaching the car.

“Here, lemme take this…” You let him grab the basket from you and watch him open one of the back doors, placing it on the floor, behind a seat. When he shuts the door again with a click, he turns to look at you in a both expectant and patient manner.

“Shall we?” He gestures to the other side of the car, and you let him lead you around it, swallowing as he pulls open the front side door for you.

“There you go. You know, you’re lucky this is your first car ride. This is a nice car, apparently.” You let Bucky take your hand to help you in, and for the few seconds after he’s shut your door behind you, and you see him jog around to the driver’s seat, you feel an immense awkwardness settle over you.

When he’s climbed in beside you, he gestures to something above your head.

“Here, that’s your seat belt. I know a lotta people don’t bother with them, but… better safe than sorry, right?” You nod, and reach out to grab the little buckle, not realising that the sun had been baking the metal since it had come up.

You rip your fingers away from it with a hiss, cradling them to your chest. Bucky jerks and is immediately leaning over to help you.

“Shit! Sorry, I— I forgot to tell you to be careful of the— here, look, you gotta grab the plastic part…” Your slightly burnt fingers are all but forgotten when Bucky leans right over you, directly into your space as he pulls at the belt, drawing it down and across your body, to your hip.

You watch him click the buckle together and blink up at him when he leans back, face still pulled in a wince.

“You okay?”

“Yes… I just wasn’t expecting it… it didn’t really hurt that much…” He looks like he wants to say something more, his eyes darting down to where you lower your hand back to your lap, and your face, but he eventually settles with a nod.

“Okay. Okay.” He repeats, twisting to face frontwards in his seat again as he begins readying the car. You watch him fiddle with the keys, jumping slightly when the engine roars to life all around you, but you only chuckle at the look Bucky sends you. He lifts one hand from the wheel, to hold onto a tall gear stick in the center console, shifting it a few times before you feel the car begin to move.

Despite your nerves, you can’t help but feel the excitement in your bones, and as Bucky starts to slowly drive along the outer roads of the town, toward the western most side, you can’t stop yourself from staring out the window.

It wasn’t as if you’d never seen any of these places before, but it felt different now. You feel Bucky’s eyes flick over to you every so often, a low chuckle you can barely hear above the car reaching you, but you’re too enthralled to do more than return his smile briefly.

You settle down a bit as you hit the main road. It's still a very new experience to be moving so quickly down a road you’d only ever been along at a walk. Bucky seems content in the quiet, but about halfway through the trip, he changes his hand on the steering wheel, to reach down for something on the side of his door. You watch him fumble for a moment, before he behinds winding a little lever, and you turn your gaze to where the window now rolls down, filling the car with fresh air and the sound of light wind.

“You’ve got one too,” He briefly takes his eyes from the road to point your own window lever out to you, and excitedly, you rush to unwind it. You laugh then, like a child, and lean forward to get a better view, to feel the wind blow over your face. It doesn’t last long though, the second you feel your hair get thrown about, you yip, ducking away with another laugh, but attempting to smooth back your hair again.

Bucky grins over at you, and he shuffles, keeping one hand on the steering wheel, resting his elbow on the window frame casually. With his spare hand, he rests it on his thigh, fingers tapping.

“Lotta women wear a scarf, to keep their hair from getting wrecked…” He tells you, and you make a note for if you ever ride in the car again.

“You were right.” You tell him, finally sitting back in your seat and relaxing. Bucky cocks his head, briefly glancing at you, but mostly he keeps his eyes forward.

“Hmn?”

“I do like this.”

You arrive at the beach in no time at all, the lone western road leading right down to the water. Bucky brings the car to a stop away from the road, on a patch of grass that separates the rest of the land from the sand dunes. On your right, some ways away, the land lifts, creating a rocking cliffside that encloses this section of beach neatly. You knew from your childhood that there were some caves accessible, but you’d always been told to stay well away.

Bucky grabs the basket from the backseat, and you wait for him to catch up with you before you begin treading down onto the sand. The sand is hot and pale, and the smell of sea water calls you, but as much as you’d love to throw yourself toward it, you direct Bucky to a small cropping of rocks and boulders that rested near the dunes, far enough back that the incoming tide wouldn’t reach them, but near enough to the water to be sure your things would be kept safe.

Bucky follows your lead as you kick your shoes off, climbing to the top of the largest boulder easily, it's jagged surface perfect for climbing, as long as you didn’t step on a spike. The boulder stands almost up to Bucky’s chest, and was quite large from a top side view. You beckon him to give you your basket and he watches as you quickly lay out the blanket. When he can see you settling, he joins you, scaling the rock quickly, and taking a seat beside you, where you’ve now begun to pull the bread and spreads from the basket.

“This is a nice spot.” He says scanning the horizon critically. You see his gaze turn up towards the nearby cliffs, scrutinizing them thoroughly with slightly squinted eyes. His face is so intense, you can’t help but look too, wondering what it was he was seeing, but when you turn back to him, he snaps out of it, plastering an easy smile on his face.

You open your mouth to question what he’d been looking at when he grabs the jame, and turns it over in his hands.

“Homemade?” He asks, clearly excited by the prospect, and even though you still want to know what he’d just been thinking about, you let it go, recognising a subject change when you saw one.

“Yes. My mama is very good at cooking. She cooks a lot for other people.” You tell him, buttering a thick slice of bread before handing it to him.

“Do you?” He puts the jam down as he takes the bread and a butter knife from you, beginning to spread some of the sweet, jellied fruit. You scrunch your nose.

“I don’t cook a lot. Mama says I should do more.” You roll your eyes and Bucky snorts.

“Why?”

“So that when I get married my husband won’t be displayed… or something.” You bring one of your legs to a bent position, like you were crossing your legs but only chose to do one, and shift your center of balance to be more comfortable.

The blanket was a nice touch, but it didn’t make the rock you sat on any more homey.

“I don’t understand… why women have to do so much to keep a man. If they love you, shouldn’t they not care about how well you cook or how clean your house is?” You glance at him, genuinely asking. Bucky was, as you well knew, a man, he may have insight you did not. He frowns, mulling over his thoughts as he chews his mouthful.

“I think some guys want a housekeeper more than a partner. I don’t think a lot of mother’s help that, either.” It’s your turn to frown and you cock your head, gesturing he go on. He adjusts a little, and looks off as he speaks, only glancing back at you a few times as he explains.

“It’s a cycle, right? A lady gets married, she looks after her husband, they have kids, a boy and a girl,” He pauses, takes a small bite, chews, swallows and continues.

“Now, as the girl gets older, mother starts to prepare her for when she’ll get married, so she takes on some of the household chores. The son however, he gets looked after right up until he leaves the nest. His food is cooked for him, his room is cleaned, his clothes washed…” You start understanding what he means, and nod slowly.

“By the time he’s serious about looking for a girl, he thinks they should be how his ma and pa were. I’m sure there’s love and affection, but in his mind, if she’s not doing those same things he grew up with, then how much can she really love him?” He ends with a shrug, looking at you, and you have to admit you’re genuinely surprised by his honest point of view.

But he sits up a little straighter then, and points to himself with the bread still in his hand.

“My mother would never let me get away with that.” He tells you solemnly, and you chortle at his deeply serious, over the top expression.

“Oh?”

“No ma’am. When I was sixteen she showed me how to use the machines at the laundromat, and if my room wasn’t spick and span at the end of the week I’d get it.” You laugh at the thought of a woman with Bucky’s same eyes making him remake his bed.

“And cooking?” You press, and Bucky shrugs again.

“I grew up watching her cook, helping her in the kitchen… I ain’t sayin’g I’m good. But I wouldn’t starve.” You laugh again, his stories uplifting on your general view of how things were ‘Supposed To Be’.

“Anyway, the point is, the only thing that makes a good husband or wife is that you care about one another. Everything else is negotiable.” You grin, and nod, look out at the water as he words sink in, before you sharply side eye him.

“Everything except fidelity. I’d cut off my man’s—” You cut yourself off before you can say too much, but Bucky has already begun howling with laughter, leaning all the way back to rest on his elbows, he places a hand to his chest as he guffaws gleefully.

When he calms down, still snickering quietly he nods several times to himself and gives you a look.

“I don’t doubt you for a second, sweetheart.” Your chest flutters again at not just the pet name, he’d taken to using various ones, but the softness in his voice when he says it. It makes you nervous, it makes your stomach feel like the rolling waves of the ocean before you are happening simultaneously in there too.

“Right, well. Let's cool off, huh?”

Bucky rolls his pant legs up to just above his knees before he treads into the shallows, and you lift your skirt just a little as you join him. You wallow about in the water for some time, talking about nothing in particular. At one point, he realises he’d left his camera in the car, and races back up to get it, returning with a piece of photo paper already developing in his fingers.

“Took one from the dunes. It’s a nice view.” He explains as you lean over to peer at the little print. You can make out your figure, distant in the photo.

Bucky takes several more pictures, of the cliffs, of the long expanse of shoreline on the other side… You let him be for a while, moving back up to the rock and the blanket, perching yourself on the edge as you just take in the cool sea breeze and watch Bucky move about, deeply focused.

It was sweet really, though you don’t know how many of the shots look the same.

The warm sun and your general relaxed mood lull you to lie back, fixating your gaze on the blue skies and clouds above. Your skin grows warm and a little moist under such direct sunlight, but it feels nice. You aren’t sure how long you lie there for, you even doze off for a little bit, but some time later, you hear Bucky approaching.

“Can I take your picture?” He asks as you sit up, shielding your eyes for a moment as you do.

“Me?”

“Yeah.” You want to protest that he shouldn’t waste his photo paper on you, but he’s already stepping back and bringing the camera up to check if he’s too close or far.

“Wait, let me move.” You tell him, shifting to sit side on, with your feet on the rock and your knees bent up, like you would sit in your reading nook. Bucky waits for you like you ask, adjusting a little notch on his camera before he lifts it back to his eye, peering through. You expect him to take the photo right away but instead you see his lips part and his tongue swipe out to wet them as he swallows and draws the device away again.

“Uh, your— your skirt sweetheart, it's…” He trails off and gestures at his own thigh, prompting you to glance down at yourself.

Oh.

With your legs up like this, and perhaps with the help of a little sea breeze, your dress had shifted far up the length of your leg, far more than what was proper or should be photographed, and yet, your mind begins to whir.

You cock your head innocently, and hook your finger under the hem, drawing it back even further, until almost the whole side of your leg was on display. As you do, you pop your shoulder forward and rest your chin on it, grinning widely, invitingly.

Bucky just stares for several moments, and you see him swallow again. He seems to fumble with bringing the camera back to his face, and you see his mouth in what you’re certain is English cussing. It only makes your grin that much wider.

He takes the picture, lowering the camera immediately to catch the photo it spits out, though, he keeps glancing back up at you. You only flutter your eyelashes as best you can and make sure to fix your skirt somewhat. You sit forward again, and rest your hands either side of your legs, leaning toward where Bucky still stands.

“May I see?” You ask, and he jerks, starting toward you right away.

“Y--yeah. Of course…” You note with a quiet snicker how he stands at least two feet away from you when he holds out the photograph, and you take it from him, inspecting it.

“This is a good one.” You tell him.

“Yep. Yeah. It is.” He’s aware you’re teasing him now, and you give him a smile over the top of the picture.

“You won’t throw it away?”

“Why… why the hell would I throw it away?” You shrug and hold it out to give back.

“I don’t know…”

Bucky reaches out for it, but just before he can take it from you, you pull it back.

“On second thoughts, I don’t know if you can be trusted with this.” His face resembles a rain cloud, his frown confused and deep.

“What?”

“I think it might end up in the bottom of a box somewhere… I should keep it.” Your lip quirks, and he can see the cogs turning as he realises you’re only playing. He rolls his eyes and goes to grab it from you again, but you pull it away again.

Before he can corner you where you sit, you jump off the rock, ducking to the side as he lunges, making you squeal.

“Come on, sweetheart, let me have it…” You keep moving backwards, even as you turn to face him, the photo clutched to your chest. Bucky has turned to pursue you, though he’s only walking, hands on his hips.

“You’ll have to catch me!” You take off running, unable to keep from laughing as you do, Bucky’s own chortling reaching you as he gives chase.

You duck and weave out of his reach, and even though he’s far bigger and fitter than you, you were smaller, and the drag of the sand didn’t affect you as much. He almost gets you twice, his fingers grazing your dress, and when he does finally catch you, it’s with his arms around your middle, seizing you mid stride and pulling you back.

The momentum sends you both tumbling to the sand, your back hitting it lightly. Bucky falls over you, though he catches himself before he can crush you proper. All you can do is laugh, breathless from the chase and from the fall, and most certainly from the fact Bucky now lays atop you.

He’s laughing too, his face close and his breathe warm. He shifts to lift one hand and pluck the photo from your fingers, still held to your chest, trapped their by his own body. He’s still smiling when he makes a show of placing the photo in his top pocket, and buttoning it close, and then he drops his hand, resting it back in the sand by your head.

“I caught you.” He says simply, and all you can do is nod dumbly. His eyes fall to your mouth, and you suddenly remember the lipstick debacle. You’re about to make an excuse, or explain what had happened, when he leans in, dropping his lips to your own softly. You don’t mean to, but you gasp quietly, heat pooling in your face when you feel Bucky smile, and hear his light chuckle.

He doesn’t stop though, and you gladly return the kiss at last, lifting your chin so he could reach you easier or have more of you, you don’t know. Bucky shifts over you, his knee digging into the sand as he lifts some of his weight off of you, but before you can complain, he’s holding your face, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

When you part, reluctantly, you’re all too aware of how heavy you’re breathing, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Bucky’s eyes drop to watch for a moment, and you feel goosebumps crawl over your skin, but he looks away, moving to get off of you.

“Uhm… that okay?” He asks, scratching the back of his head a little awkwardly. You’re still just lying in the sand, watching him and trying to catch your breath.

He stands, and leans down to offer you a hand that you accept. You let him pull you to your feet, and by that time you’ve gotten at least a semblance of your sanity back. He’s looking at you cautiously, concerned maybe, but you intend to rectify that.

He hardly has time to catch you as you jump for him, legs wrapped around his middle, your arms around his neck, Bucky lets out a loud, hearty laugh as he makes to secure his hold on you. You lean in and kiss him again, heated at first, but then softer, until you’re only peppering little pecks to his lips.

“I’m gonna go with that being okay, then.” He confirms to himself. You giggle, like a schoolgirl with a crush, and realise he’d been walking the whole time he’d been carrying you. He sets you down atop the rock, hands gliding under where he’d been holding your legs, before quickly removing them, like he didn’t want to overstep.

“You had better not lose that picture.” You warn, making him chuckle, and pat his pocket.

“Oh, trust me darlin’. It’s not going anywhere.”

The sun had already begun to set, and so you make quick work of packing up the small amount of belongings you brought. As you walk back to the car, Bucky carries the basket in one arm, and with the other, he reaches out to take your hand, firmly and securely, interlocking your fingers, and you feel your whole being ascend.

He doesn’t let go of your hand in the car either, reaching out to hold it there too, your intertwined hands resting on your thigh. It’s all too short however, and far too soon he’s parking the vehicle and helping you out.

“I’ll walk you back.” He tells you and you frown.

“What? No, you’re already home, I can—”

“—I’ll walk you back.” He says again, firmer, but with a playfulness that stops you from arguing further.

You wait for him to get your basket from the backseat, and when he does join you around at the rear of the car, his face lights up in realisation.

“Oh! Wait. Hold this for a sec…” He gently thrusts the basket into your hands and you blink, watching him jog into the cottage.

He reappears a few minutes later, carrying something long and cylindrical in his hand, and as he approaches you again, he flips it, catching it smoothly.

“Flashlight. For… for if your power goes out again…” He drops it in your basket before he takes it from you again, and you’re so genuinely touched by the gesture you’re frozen for a few seconds.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky frowns, cocking his head, but you snap out of it, leaning in to wrap your arms around his neck, only a hug this time. His free arms wraps around you instantly, and you aren’t sure you’ll ever get over how nice it feels to be held.

“Thank you. That’s very kind…” You say when you pull back. He just smiles at you, before offering you his arm, and walking you home.

—-

He takes you on a picnic.

It’s such a quaint idea that when he mentions it to you one afternoon, after kissing you goodbye on your doorstep, you can’t help but feel your eyes light up like two cartoonish hearts.

Bucky had assured you he would source the meal and perhaps some wine, but he’d need your basket once more, and the next day you find yourself lounging lazily under the shade of a tree, in the empty fields outside of town.

He’d brought bread, fruit and a bottle of red wine that you’d be very excited by right up until you’d had your first taste.

Bucky burst out in laughter at your expression, nose scrunched and brow furrowed, and he gracefully takes your glass from your hand.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it's an acquired taste…” He chortles, and you gladly let him pour what's left of your drink into his own, but you notice he doesn’t really touch it throughout lunch.

You talk for hours, clearing up the blanket so you can lie down next to one another and gaze at the cloudy blue sky. You ask Bucky to tell you once more about New York City, and as he speaks you gaze at him, gesturing wildly with his hands and smiling back at you every so often.

He was so pretty, for a boy, his eyes so blue, hair dark and lovely and smooth looking. Even his stubbly chin and cheeks, where you could clearly see he’d shaved just this morning look nice, and without really thinking, you reach out and brush the backs of your fingers over his jaw.

Bucky stops speaking, turning his head slightly to regard you softly, but you don’t stop. From the way he spoke about the war and missing his home, you think maybe it has been a while since he’d felt such gentle touches.

“See somethin’ you like, darlin’?” His smirk is barely a smirk, it's far too soft for that, but there’s still a hint of cheekiness in his gaze that draws you in. Laughing quietly, you rise to your elbow, leaning into his side where he’d previously been lying a respectable distance from you and press your lips to his jaw, then his cheek, and at last his lips.

Bucky kisses you back immediately, like he always did, lips moving softly against your own, carefully cupping the side of your face and pulling you down against him even further. Your heart races when he sits up without breaking apart from you, pushing you back so your positions are reversed. Out here you were practically alone, and even if somebody did come driving down the main road, with the tall grass nobody would be able to see you.

You wrap your hands up behind his head, tugging him down more, until he’s leaning against you fully, his forearms encasing either side of your head, a knee slipping between your own as your tongue slips between his lips. Your nearly come apart thena nd there when he moans, muffled by your kiss, but erotic all the same, and he seems to move more feverishly, kissing your quicker, bearing down against you harder.

You resist the urge to wrap a leg around him, but instead let your fingers scratch gently at the back of his neck, feeling yourself sink further and further into bliss with each tiny stroke of his tongue against yours, and each press of his clearly hardening length between your thighs.

You almost unhook your hands from his neck to lift your dress when he pulls back. At first he simply lays his forehead against your own, his eyes shut tight, and you watch him with rising disappointment and heavy breathing as he gently shifts his weight off of you, and dips his lips to kiss the tip of your nose, and then chastley at your lips.

“I uh… this probably isn’t a good idea…” You deflate, but push it aside. If he did not wish to go further, you wouldn’t pressure him. Still, the gentle ache between your thighs resists, begging for friction, for satisfaction. Bucky looks down at you, lips kissed raw and pupils dilated and it takes everything in you not to go for his pants then and there. He smooths down what he can of your hair, tucking some wilder pieces behind your ear before he kisses your nose again, and lays back down beside you.

On the walk back, the both of you are oddly silent, and although it isn’t uncomfortable, you still don’t like the awkwardness. You always felt like you could be truthful with Bucky, and you didn’t want to change that now, so tugging on his hand a little you slow your pace.

“I would have had sex with you, you know?” You squint at him and he blinks rapidly, face blushing quickly as he checks around to make sure there was nobody else present.

“Wha— I wasn’t—”

“—I’m not a virgin. I know what I’m doing.” You further assert, and he only continues to cough awkwardly, trying to reign in his clear embarrassment.

“Men aren’t the only ones who like sex. You always think us women are so eager to wait and ‘save ourselves’.” You roll your eyes then, and walk past him.

You don’t look back, but soon enough he’s hurrying to fall in beside you once more, taking your hand again even as he swallows.

“I never said you were, I just… I guess I’m not used to ladies talkin’ about it so… well, at all…” You side-eye him wryly and shrug.

“Look around, Bucky. In a town this small, there isn’t much else to do except each other. But all the boys have left now…” You shrug again, and this time Bucky laughs, letting out a slow puff of air.

“I guess.” He wears a look on his face like he wants to say something else, but he stays quiet. You slow down as you approach your home, and you’re about to ask when he stops just short of the steps leading into your front courtyard, and takes both your hands.

“I guess I wouldn’t want to take advantage. I’d want you to be sure.”

You purse your lips and roll your eyes again.

“I’m not a naive little girl.”

He laughs again and draws you near, quickly checking about to make sure no neighbour would spy the kiss he presses to your lips.

“And I’m not a boy.” The words send a thrill up your spine, and now more than ever you wish he hadn’t pulled away earlier. You swallow as he looks down at you, eyes intense and fiery and this time it’s your turn to swallow.

“I— I know…” You manage, and for a moment you can’t stop staring at one another.

Eventually, Bucky squeezes your hands and nods his head toward your home.

“You’d better—”

“—Oh! Yes… Goodnight…”

Bucky watches you as you make your way to your door and tips his hat when you look back at him before you close it.

“Goodnight.”

—-

Bucky can’t sleep.

It's late, he really should have been asleep hours ago, but he can’t stop thinking about you and what you’d said. As much as he curses himself for not seeking out the moment when he’d had you under him in the field, he’s also glad. You deserved more than a quick rut on a picnic blanket, and yet his mind wanders to Parisian nights, except all the women in his memories are replaced with you.

Would you be loud? Quiet? Would you say his name, drawn out and breathy? He decides he wants to find out.

It takes him no time at all to walk to your house, and when he’s climbed the side wall of the enclosed courtyard into the back garden, he sneaks on around to the open window on the first floor.

Surprisingly, you were either far from asleep yourself, or you had been suspecting his visit. You sit up in bed right away, but smile and hold a finger to your lips as you creep across to the window. Bucky leans against it comfortably, holding your hand when you half climb through to sit on the sill, legs dangling out beside him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, though your demeanour seems to be far more girlish, far more pleased-but-scandalised than you had been earlier, talking so frankly about sex. Bucky gives you his best smile and shrugs.

“Wanted to see you. What’re you doing awake?” He nods to your bed, the book and torch clearly lying amidst your sheets.

“I was reading.”

“I can go if you’d—”

“—No!” You whisper, socking him lightly in the shoulder, as if it were a ridiculous thought to even suggest he leave. In the moonlight he thinks you look lovelier than ever, and he scoots closer, until he’s resting his arms across your thighs and gazing up at you softly.

“We have to talk quietly though, my mother’s room is above mine and her window is also open…” You point, and Bucky looks, see’s the curtains billowing slightly out, and he nods.

“I’d let you in, but I think you might dissolve into a blush.” You tease him, and Bucky immediately perks, eyes lighting up at the challenge. He pulls his arms off of your lap and cocks his head.

“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” He asks slowly, letting a hand gently curve up your calf. Your nightdress covers you from the knee up, but he ignores it, reaching underneath to massage softly at your thigh.

You don’t take your eyes off of him, even when he lowers his gaze to carefully push your knees apart. If anything you seem to lean back on your palms, watching him intently. Bucky meets your eye again when he snakes his hand further, forgoing your leg entirely to press the pads of his fingers against your core, eliciting a sharp inhale from the both of you.

“You don’t wear underwear to bed?” He can’t help but ask, pants suddenly restrictively tight and you breathe out slowly, clearly trying to remain quiet as he lets his fingers simply glide through you slick.

“Only when I’m expecting company.” You tell him, and he chortles, stepping closer and pressing his lips to yours.

Your head angles back for him, letting him set the pace of the kiss and gently, Bucky presses one finger inside. You almost gasp, but he kisses you harder, pulling back again just slightly, so your lips brush when he speaks.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” You nod vigorously, eyes not even opening to meet his, and Bucky leans back further, content to watch your head lull back and mouth part in the softest breathiest moans he’s ever heard as he slowly pumps his one finger in and out of you.

He’s laser focused on the task at hand, even despite his rock hard cock, and soon he’s adding another finger, slowly letting them sink deep into your velvety wet heat, his pride stoked when you further part your legs for him. He uses his free hand to push your nightdress up around your hips, and he nearly groans at the sight. Licking his lips he sets his eyes back on you, leaning in to nip and kiss at your neck, finally letting his thumb press down against your clit, massaging in circles as slow as his strokes, and he feels your muscles flutter.

A third finger joins the others and this time you seem to reactively grip his wrist, your other hand flying to slap over your mouth as your brow furrows deeply. Bucky knows he’s breathing hard, and after adjusting himself briefly in his pants, he pulls at the thin straps of your nightdress, getting it only half down one shoulder, but it’s enough.

He wraps his lips around your exposed nipple, swirling his tongue and nipping experimentally, feeling your hand wrap around the back of his head in approval. He stares up at you, desperately wanting to see your face when he finally pulls you apart and he’s rewarded only a few minutes later, his fingers fucking you far quicker, his thumb working faster.

When you finish, your cunt squeezes his digits relentlessly in waves of pleasure, and you make strained, soft little mewls as you attempt to remain quiet. Your hips shift and twitch and he doesn’t draw away from your breast until you’re blinking back down at him, gently pulling his hand away from your clit with bashful little laughs.

“At least… at least I won’t have to change any bedsheets…” You pant, and Bucky chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips properly, feeling your naked chest heave against his when he does. Your eyes seem dazed, and your face warm, but when he pulls away again you swallow and gesture to his own clearly bulging pants.

“I can—”

“—Not tonight…” And he means it.

“I just wanted… I just wanted to see you.” He says, and your gaze shifts from purely lustful to something softer, and you smile, dipping your eyes away for a second.

Bucky takes the moment to enjoy his view, your dress pulled up to your hips, your pussy still clearly on display, and your sleeves hanging well down to your elbows, breasts bare, nipples hardened and exquisite. He fights the urge to reach out and start all over again, maybe get his mouth on you this time…

“S’alright?” He rests his head in his palm and you chortle quietly, nodding.

“Yes. Yes, better than… than anything with other boys before…” He gets the feeling you aren’t just saying that to stroke his ego, the blissed out look on your face and the oddly bashful demeanour you’ve taken on requiring him to believe that he really had just properly blown your mind. He grins triumphantly, and leans in again, kissing your lower lip.

“I told you I wasn’t a boy.” He kisses you full again, loving the feel of your hand reaching up to hold the back of his head to you.

“I know.” You say when he forces himself back. You watch him as he carefully pulls up the sleeves of your shirt, covering you up again, and then fixes the skirt too, until you’re mostly modest.

“You should get some sleep, sweetheart.” He tells you, and you hum, reluctantly climbing back through your window and standing on the other side. He kisses the back of your hand, but when he goes to pull away, you don’t release your hold on him, tugging him back slightly, and he blinks at you curiously.

Your eyes have taken on that same lustful expression from before and you cock your head.

“Will you think of me?” You ask, and at first, it doesn’t quite click.

“When you wrap your hand around your cock when you get home, will you think of me?” Bucky nearly chokes, nearly climbs right through your window and ends all the tension there and then, but he manages to hold strong, realising you were still somewhat teasing him.

“Darlin’ I will think of nothing but you, soaking wet and waiting for me…” He squeezes your fingers slightly, noting the approval in your eyes even before you nod.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“It has been, yes.” You finally let him go, watching as he clambers quietly back over your side wall.

And Bucky does think of you when he gets home, he strokes himself to the thought of your mouth and your cunt, and your tits bouncing in his face while he has you on his lap. It’s honestly the filthiest his mind has been since Paris nights drowned in alcohol and women he didn’t bother to get the names of. He knows your name though, sighs it again and again as he thinks of you.

He falls asleep hard and wakes up in the morning the same way, unable to stop thinking about you.

—-

In the days following Bucky’s midnight visit, you feel a giddy sort of happiness thrum constantly through your veins. Even now, as you sit up in your archway, trying to focus your mind on the letter you write to your distant aunt (you think you’ve met her all of once, but she’d written to you and your mother regarding your health and wellbeing in the aftermath of the war, so you felt obliged to reply). You find yourself able to write only several lines before you’d look up, searching, hoping perhaps Bucky would show, but even you know it’s too early… he’d still be working.

Part of you debates going to watch, the idea of seeing him labouring away in the hot sun, hopefully with his shirt removed, leaving him in only a singlet top… your stomach stirs at the thought, but you shake your head, and concentrate harder on your letter.

You manage to succeed too, losing yourself in describing Montecarra to your relative who’d never once left England, as she’d explained. It isn’t until some time later that movement catches at the corner of your eye, and you barely refrain from looking up as Bucky finally ambles into the courtyard. He must sense your buys-ness, because he doesn’t greet you as he nears, he just stops for a moment, before he continues forward.

At first you think he may approach you to wait, but instead he swiftly climbs into the open archway behind you. You take the time to pause in your own actions to peek at what he’s doing, only to find him sitting in mirror of you, his back to the same pillar yours is. After he settles he twists back and nudges your arm.

“Got any spare paper, darlin’?”

You try to pretend you hadn’t been watching him, but his grin says you’ve been caught out. Gathering a few pages from under your small stack, you hand them back to him, his fingers over your far too suspect for you to think it is anything other than purposeful. Still, you can’t help but smile, even as you settle back to finish off your letter, hearing him uncap a pen.

You find yourself referring back to your aunt’s letter to answer and reply to all of her questions and queries, and once again you almost forgot Bucky is there, until tugging on your sleeve draws you out of your reverie. You turn to look, expecting to be greeted with his lovely face, but instead, all you see is his hand, holding a page folded into a little rectangle.

Your chest flutters at the thought he’d been sitting writing something for you, and so your letter is quickly abandoned in favour of taking the little note. Bucky seems to remain as if he were oblivious to his own actions, humming quietly to himself as you unfold the paper and gaze down at the words.

‘Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?’

Again, your heart stutters, and you can’t hide your smile as you put pen to paper, drawing up your response. You refold it and hand it back the same way he’d offered it to you; tugging on his sleeve and holding it out. The page is plucked from your fingers quickly, and you try to distract yourself by turning back to your true task, only to be pulled from this once more when his hand reaches back, searching. You watch for a moment before he wiggles his fingers expectantly and you snicker, adjusting your hold on your paper, so that you can place your hand in his own.

You sit there like that for the rest of the afternoon, Bucky humming happily, your hands interlocked at an almost awkward angle, and you try your hardest to finish writing your damned letter.

He picks you up from your home later that evening, finds you waiting for him out the front. You hadn’t dressed up in a long time, and so when his gait slows and his eyes roam over you as he approaches, you can’t help but feel self-conscious.

You’d worn a simple red dress, but it was the nicest one you owned, the only one appropriate for dinner out. This time you’d committed to the lipstick, painted your lips red and done your best not to talk yourself out of it. You’d left your hair down, let it fall in loosely styled waves, and all together you felt part-movie star, part-fool.

Bucky whistles lowly, just quietly as he nears, and you have to scoff and roll your eyes, hiding your embarrassment as he draws you in, hugging you just quickly before he pulls back, hands on your waist still, to inspect you closer.

“You look beautiful.” He tells you, voice soft and sweet and you know he isn’t pontificating, or trying to woo you.

“Thank you.” You reach out to smooth over his collar and finally force yourself to meet his eye.

“You look lovely, too.”

You feel lost in a slight high as you walk to the only real restaurant in town, in the main square. In the early evening the streets are quiet, only the occasional passerby, but the cafe remains open, seeing to a few quiet patrons, plus yourselves out on the terrace.

Bucky helps you with your chair and takes your order for you, pours you your drink… it's so normal and yet you’d never really experienced an evening like it. When your food is long gone, he scoots his chair around to sit closer to you and holds your hand softly in his while you talk aimlessly. You aren’t at all worried about being seen or judged, in fact the few moments in which you catch a passing couple take a look at you, you see kind eyes and sweet smiles, only making you feel dizzier.

“You enjoyed your meals, I see?” The owner, an older man named Matteo who you’d known to live in Montecarra for as long as you can remember, stops by to clear up your plates, and you nod enthusiastically.

“Wonderful, we’ll have to come back.” Bucky says, squeezing your fingers as Matteo smiles widely and agrees.

“Maybe next time I will have figured out how to work this named record player, then you will have music as well!” You and Bucky both seem to perk as Matteo throws a thumb over his shoulder, and Bucky straightens in his chair slightly.

“I can give it a look, if you’d like?” He offers, eyes already glued to the record player sitting atop the counter only a few meters away. The older man gives him a shrug and a gesture that clearly reads as ‘go for it’, as he finishes collecting the plates and patters back off to the kitchen.

You watch Bucky move over to the counter, fiddling with the player, though you can’t really see what he does. You know he’s fixed it however, when he throws a grin back at you, and plucks a record from beside the machine, pulling it from it’s sleeve and carefully placing it down on the turntable.

Music immediately begins wafting through the air, an upbeat tune you think you’d heard on the radio before, and Bucky comes speeding back over to you, hands held out even as he pulls you from your seat.

“Dance with me?” He asks, though he’s already wrapping his arm around your waist, and you move yours to his shoulder and hand respectively. There isn’t much room between the tables on the sidewalk, and although the song is happy, it’s not a rousing jazz tune, so you find yourselves simply swaying in each others embrace as the French lyrics begin to join the band.

You end up close, so close you forget anything else exists around you, Bucky’s forehead pressed against your own, your chests similarly compressed, as if neither of you could exist apart.

You have to laugh, thoroughly intrigued and enthralled when he begins softly singing the words to the song. It’s so different to hear him speak in a language that wasn’t Italian or English and it makes your chest ache for a reason you don’t know.

“I wish I could speak French.” You say quietly, Bucky’s lips quirk up but you shake your head.

“You must be so amused by how quaint I am… never been in a car, never left my town… never learnt any languages…” You don’t mean to sound so melancholy, but it hits you then, the ache in your heart stems from just how wonderful Bucky is, and how plain you are in comparison. But he’s frowning as you finish, shaking his head and adjusting his grip on you, wrapping you up even further.

“Never. I think you’re worldy in other ways…”

Your purse your lips, but as he opens his mouth to continue you cut him off, changing the subject.

“Can you tell me about New York again?”

Bucky’s expression falters, then lifts into a sweet smile, and you know his mind has wafted away to distant city streets.

“Of course…” He talks for ages about all the shops and stores available, about all the tiny apartment buildings and the decor, and his home block in Brooklyn. He tells you about the parks and the weather, and a place called Coney Island.

“... I think you’d like it.” He finishes, and you hum, having closed your eyes now, head to his shoulder as you attempt to imagine all that he describes. You feel him open his mouth to say something, to continue, but he doesn’t, hesitating and then remaining quiet, though he holds you firmer again, and you relish in the warmth of it.

Eventually, you have to let Matteo close up, and you bid the old man thank you and goodbye as you walk away hand-in-hand. Before you can get too far however, you stop, tugging on Bucky’s hand so you have his attention, the warm Montecarran breeze blowing your hair about.

“My mama doesn’t expect me home until morning.” You tell him, seeing instantly how his eyes change.

“Why’s that?” He manages to ask, stepping close again and you smile, shrugging.

“I told her I was watching some children in town overnight.”

Bucky hums at your reply, frowns as if in thought.

“Sounds as if you may need somewhere to stay, in that case.”

Bucky takes you back to his cottage, all quiet laughs and lingering touches as he leads you inside, placing his coat and keys down on the table, but any pretence is lost as soon as you kiss him. Clothes scatter around the small space, a gingerbread trail leading to his bedroom where he lays you down and peels the last of your underwear off.

Oddly, you feel less nervous about him seeing you naked than you had in your dress, maybe because he’d already seen you mostly this way, or maybe because at least naked it was real and you couldn’t pretend or hide, it was more honest.

You itch to touch him, but you don’t get the chance right away, his kisses leaving your lips quickly to travel down and soon you’re gasping, hands clutched tightly in his hair as he buries his face between your thighs, hands holding your legs apart as his tongue and lips work quickly over you, bringing you over the edge faster than you even thought possible. By the time he’s kissing you again, your mind is a haze of filth and desire and you guide him into you quickly.

Bucky is an excellent lover, his pace and angle perfect, his weight above you welcome as he thrusts into your warmth, desperate and wanting. He isn’t boring either, doesn’t end the night quickly, instead nearing his pleasure and stopping each time, drawing it out. He instructs you in various positions, making your belly spark with his knowledge of the female body, nearly sending you into a fritz when he takes you from behind, leaves you scrambling to hold on to something as you cry out into his sheets, his cock relentless as he fucks you through your orgasm, finally finishing with you, his hands curled around to pinch at your nipples, making your cunt bear down on him even more as you fall into a sweaty, moaning and panting heap.

He fetches you water, helps you fix back your hair in your still slightly dazed state, and pulls you near again, skin to skin as you drift off to sleep, lips pressed to one another even as your mind begins to wander.

In the morning you wake him with your mouth around his length, swallow him back as much as you can as he’s drawn from slumber by the pleasure, his hand reaching down to messily clutch at your hair. You watch him come apart for you, eyes fixed on his tilted head, creased brow and open mouth as he jerks into the back of your throat, hot warmth spilling forth that you swallow with ease.

He swears and curses as he rubs his eyes and you crawl up to lay beside him once again, finding his eyes looking at you as if to make sure you were real.

“Good morning, Sargeant.” You tease, only to have him cuss more, his chest heavily quickly up and down. You chitter and brush the slightly damp hair back from his head, a kiss to his cheek as you withdraw from the bed.

“Where’re you goin’?” He asks, blinking himself properly awake and you throw him a glance as you hunt for all your belongings.

“I have to go home, my mother does expect me at some point…” You explain, and he rubs a hand over his face once more, seeming to deflate a little.

“Right. Of course.”

You’re fully dressed when he manages to pull himself to sit on the edge of the bed, still naked, still just as fine as the evening previous. He looks up at you as you step nearer, braiding back your hair before you place both hands on his shoulders.

“Thank you.” You say simply, leaning down to peck his lips chastley. He hums against you, kissing you back and quickly you’re no longer pecking his lips, your hands roaming down over his shoulders appreciatively, his hands reach up the back of your skirt, pulling your underwear to the side and—

You gasp, giggling as you pull out of his reach, shaking your head and wagging a finger at him like a naughty child.

“No! No, I have to go home!” You tell him, even as he sighs, falling back to lie on the bed again. You can clearly see his hardening length and you fight yourself to just climb atop him once more.

“I will see you later!” You say pointedly, tossing a shirt onto his lap, to hide him from you, and you see him grin, chortling even as his hand travels lower, removing the shirt and wrapping around— you turn your back, flustered and tempted, but you leave his little cottage, determined to get home before your mama woke, so you could wash and change.

—-

Somewhere in the back of Bucky’s mind, he knew it wouldn’t last forever, but the end comes sooner than he’d expected.

He stares at the small pile of pages in front of him, their words all making sense in his brain, he understands what they all say, what they’re telling him, but at the same time, he comprehends absolutely nothing after the words ‘The United States Armed Forces herby discharges you with honourable service records…’

He was going home. They were sending him home.

At last he’d be able to hug his mother, see his sister, Steve, all the other fellas… he’d get to go home and really start his life post-war. He’d been waiting on this letter for months, a year even, more perhaps. At one time, it had been all he’d wanted. And yet, all that fills him now is a sense of dread, muddled with a bit of guilt, because he knows he really does miss his family, but…

When he sees you later that afternoon, sitting up in your nook like always, he can hardly bring himself to return your smile, sparkling and bright as always, for him. You pick up on his mood immediately, even if you poke fun. He knows he can’t delay, they expected him on his flight home from Rome tomorrow. The army loved their damn punctuality.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, face falling a little when he only half-heartedly chuckles at your joke, his eyes downturned, afraid to meet your own. He swallows, and shoves his hands in his pockets, squints into the distance.

“They’re sending me home.”

A beat passes.

When he finally looks back at you, he catches the tail end of devastation leaving your features, replaced instead with a hopeful, sincere grin.

You grab his hand, pulling them from his trousers.

“Bucky! That’s wonderful news!” You say excitedly, but he can only purse his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that! You don’t want to spend your whole life here, do you!?” You snort a little as you knock him in the shoulder, and he smiles thinly.

No, he didn’t want to live the rest of his life in Tuscany, but he’d been getting used to having a little slice of it around lately.

Your over-excitement fades, and you lean in to him cupping his cheek.

“You’ll get to see your mother, and your city… I know you miss them all…” He can’t help but frown at a spot on your dress, avoiding your eyes like a pouting child.

“I’ll miss you, too, though.” He mumbles, and you smile, scrunch your nose and shake your head.

“In no time at all this will all be a happy memory.”

Bucky wants to protest, lifts his gaze to argue with you, but the sharp, almost panicked look you give him as you shake your head again stops him.

“No, Bucky… Don’t. Please don’t make this sad… you’ve made me…” Your voice is cut off as you sniff, the shininess to your eyes spilling over just slightly, even though you smile softly.

“You’ve made me very happy, for quite some time. Let us leave with that.” You wrap your arms around his neck, hiding your face away and Bucky sighs, pulling you closer too, and resting his head atop your own.

He glares, frowns aimlessly at a nearby wall, barely even seeing it, focusing all his energy on swaying gently with you.

“Alright.” He says, voice a little rough. You sniff into the collar of his shirt, and he smooths his hands down over your back.

“Alright.”

—-

“We rented out your room to a shoemaker. You’re gonna have to sleep on the couch until we can convince him to leave.” Becca says flatly, half her words muffled as she’s drawn into Bucky’s chest. He holds her there tightly for several seconds before pulling back.

“Oh yeah?” He rubs at his chin.

“Don’t think the shoemaker will sleep heads to toes with me?” He wonders, and Becca scrunches her nose, laughing at the image.

Winnie Barnes shakes her head and lightly taps her daughter.

“Becca don’t cause trouble. Bucky, we left everything exactly the way it was.” His mother tells him, before hugging him for the sixth time since he’d landed. He just grins, and hugs her back each time. He’d missed her. So much.

They eat dinner together, Steve and Peggy come too, and afterward, the blond makes Bucky pull out his camera. After quickly pulling some choice images out of the pile, he lets Becca and his mother rifle through, telling them about each photo as he remembers it, the act rather therapeutic. He really had been gone for so long.

“Oh… who's this?!” Becca coos, half reading, half awed, and Bucky absently leans over to get a look.

His heart stops for a moment when he lays eyes on you, your smile wide and full of glee, the wind blowing your hair wildly about, your hand lifted to hold your hat on your head. Maybe he takes too long staring, maybe it’s just something about a sisters’ intuition, but Becca whistles, then gasps as she plucks another photo from the pile now tipped on the floor.

“Here she is again! And here too!” Even his mother gives him a sideways glance, but he can’t bring himself to feel too bashful.

He clasps his hands under his knees where he sits on the carpet and hums.

“Nina. I met her in a little town called Montecarra.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She is.” he confirms, as Becca continues to find photos with your face peppered throughout. He should be embarrassed about the amount of pictures he took of you, even ones where you aren’t doing anything but reading, but he really doesn’t.

“She your girlfriend?”

“Becca!” Winnie scolds, glaring at her daughter, but Bucky only laughs.

“I wasn’t lucky enough for that.” He shrugs, and his mother fusses.

“James Barnes, any woman worth her salt—”

“It’s not like that Ma… it’s just…” He trails off. He doesn’t want to say something to suggest he didn’t want to be here with them, because he desperately did. But he missed you.

“Well… I came home.” He shrugs, and his mother’s eyes fill with understanding. She purses her lips but frowns thinly, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

Becca frowns too, but she recovers quickly, pulling out a new photo and asking him about the features in it.

She pulls out the ones of your face, but she doesn’t mention them again.

Bucky settles in. He truly comes home. He stops feeling like he’s living out of a suitcase. He finds a job, granted it isn’t hard, with the SSR setting up an office in the city, he barely had to ask for a job. On Fridays he went dancing with Becca, acting more like a chaperone than a participant, and on Sunday’s he went to church with his mother, holding her hand through the service and making nice with the old ladies after.

He settles in. He’s home.

And then, there’s a knock on the door.

It’s well after any kind of appropriate hours for visitors, but not late enough into the night that anybody was in bed. Winnie sits by the radio in the living room, listening to her stories while Becca scrawls out a letter. Bucky had been reading when the knock came, and he waves a hand towards the women when he stands.

“I’ll get it.”

“Who on earth calls at this time?” He hears his mother wonder aloud as he makes his way down the hall to the front door.

Swinging it open, Bucky feels ready to send off whoever it is, but he stops dead in his tracks. All sense leaves him, aside from sight. He’s only able to stare slack-mouthed as you blink back up at him.

He’s never seen you in so many layers before. It was winter in New York, but Montecarra seemed to be perpetually hot, so the most he’d seen you in was a light jacket… standing before him now, on his front steps, you have a coat, a scarf, gloves, a hat and he thinks those might even be earmuffs around your neck.

“I… Hello…” You begin, your voice heavily accented when you speak English, and even though Bucky shakes himself out of his stupor, he’s still dumbfounded.

“Hi…”

“I… I’m new to the city, and I thought perhaps you will… show me around?” You seem to be thinking hard about your words, speaking slowly to articulate them. You scrunch your nose when you finish, clearly unhappy with the outcome.

Bucky can’t even bring himself to respond. He’s down the two steps separating you in seconds, hands cupping both your cheeks as he kisses you, again and again, in quick succession until you’re laughing against his lips.

“What— how— what are you doing here?!” He stops and starts, but eventually gets some version of his thoughts out. He speaks to you in Italian, not wanting you to feel limited, and you shrug, gloved fingers splayed across his chest.

“My Aunt… the one from England… she offered for me to join her in America, for better opportunities…” You trail off, and Bucky decides you could tell him any reason and he’d have been satisfied.

“I’ve been learning English.” You say, and he nods, thumb stroking over your cheek. He can’t stop looking at you, he can’t believe you’re here.

��I can see that.” He replies, in English, and watches as you slowly understand.

“Buck? Who's at the door— oh! I- I’m sorry, I—” Winnie, with Becca just behind her, stops in her tracks at the door, cheeks tinged red at catching such an intimate moment, but Bucky can’t bring himself to pull away. He see’s Becca’s eyes flash with recognition, her face lighting up.

He forces himself to pull back slightly, guiding you forward.

“Mama, Becca, this is Nina… from Montecarra.”

——

“I thought you said you’d worked in all the kinks!?” You whine, only slightly impatiently, though Bucky can understand why.

“Worked out all the kinks, baby. ‘Out’.” You roll your eyes and mutter in Italian.

“I’m going to work you out in a moment…” You say louder, and Bucky relents, holding up his hands as he finishes fiddling at last.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming! Get ready!” He tells you, quickly rushing around from one side of the camera he’d set up on a pile of books, the little wired control he holds in his hand flashing red.

“Come bambino, please smile for Mr Camera!” You bounce the tiny baby boy on your lap, earning a bout of giggles, just as Bucky slides in next to you on the stairs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, and placing his free hand on his son’s back.

“Ready?”

“Five minutes ago…”

“Say ‘Montecarra’!”

He presses the button, and the camera flashes.

Thank You Very Much For Reading!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes au #40s!bucky barnes x reader #Story: The Long Last Summer #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper Pt. 4

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x Reader Warnings: Injury, swearing, mentions of ptsd and drug use Length: 2k Notes: Hello my Freaky Darlings! I was watching The Martian while writing this and didn’t edit so bear with me and forgive errors!

Part One, Two, Three

Damn your stubborn pride. Damn it, and your swollen wrist, all to hell. Now that you were back at home, nursing your previously ignored injury, it was easy to forget why you had felt the need to work through the pain. Prime harvesting season was ending and all the old farmers in town were predicting an early frost. Knowing how this would destroy any unpicked apples, you had worked hard all day.

Frankie had grumbled at you once, an hour into the workday when he saw you emptying your half-full basket into one of the tractor-pulled bins. You didn't feel like explaining your stupid injury, or risk drawing his memory to when you eye-fucked him, so you just grumbled back an assurance that your total count would be the same.

He was slightly more attentive than usual, and you were worried he had read more into your glances than you had meant. Because, you still hated the guy, right? His... what was it again? Arrogance? Yes! That was it.

Not wanting to encourage any more misconceptions, and still trying to hide your damn swollen wrist, you worked through your breaks and barely stopped for lunch.

Frankie had finally put his foot down when Jacquie had arrived with stew and biscuits for dinner, forcing you off the ladder and stashing it away to make sure you didn’t get the idea to head up again that day.

You had successfully hidden your swollen wrist from him but knew that Jacquie had a much keener eye. So while you were remiss to leave the company of your friend you begged off dinner, citing exhaustion, and went home.

Now though, with a meal that paled in comparison to Jacquie’s cooking, and your bound wrist on ice, you wished you had stayed.

That is until you remember the moment when you had stared at your boss's lips for an inappropriately long time. With a groan, you decided to leave the dishes for tomorrow, just wanting to bury your head under your blankets and try to bury your embarrassment as well.

The sound of rain pelting against the window woke you a few short hours later. You would have just gone back to sleep but the memory of leaving a few windows open forced you out of bed. By the time you made it downstairs, the gentle rain had turned to a downpour of sleet and you could feel the cold air blowing through the house.

Your mind immediately went to the orchard. If this storm got any worse, a sizeable section of un-picked trees would be rendered worthless. Grabbing your boots and discarded coat off the floor, you rushed to your truck with freezing rain stinging your face. It wasn't until you were near the end of the driveway that you realized you hadn't closed any of the windows.

That wasn't what caused you to slam on the brakes, though. Frankie's truck had just turned down your driveway, fishtailing around the bend as he barely slowed down in his hurry. Seeing you at the last minute, he braked hard but the slush already accumulating on the ground caused him to skid. The impact wasn't hard but your smaller truck wouldn't be road-worthy any longer.

Wrenching your doors open and coming around the assess the damage Frankie was swearing while you were trying to decide whether to laugh or cry.

"What the hell are you doing?" Frankie called to you from across your crumpled hood.

"Me? ME?!" You countered, voice becoming shrill from panic and stress. "What the hell are YOU doing?!"

"Coming you help you and save your damn house from this storm!" He yelled back, giving a little jump and waving his arms out of frustration. It would have been comical under different circumstances. "This is gonna flood your fuckin' house!"

"Your orchard!" You were hollering now "This is going to ruin the rest of the apples!"

Jerking his head back Frankie looked at you with confusion, "What the hell are you worried about them for?"

His query forced you to stop and wonder that for yourself.

"I-" you stuttered, feeling a little silly "I don't know? Are you really going to argue with me though?! We've wasted enough time..."

Heaving a sigh, Frankie jerked his head towards his truck and growled, "Get in."

In a desperate bid to save as much of the fruit as possible, you and Frankie laid tarps down under as many trees as you could. Shaking the branches caused the ripened fruit to fall and you just prayed the rest would survive the sudden storm which had now turned to snow.

Working together you dragged each tarp towards the tractor and took turns driving the filled bins into the barn. It wasn’t a heated cab but still a nice respite from the blizzard.

By five a.m. you had done as much as possible and the adrenaline that had once been surging through the both of you had long faded. The snow had now slowed to a light drizzle but the ground was a slippery, muddy mess, as so were the both of you. Once Frankie noticed the shivers that wracked your body he ushered you into the barn and up the side stairs into his loft.

“It’s not much but it’s enough.” was his way of welcoming you into the space. It was cozy but lacking in luxuries or personal touches.

While Frankie got busy making tea and warming soup in the kitchen you explored the loft. It was one large room broken into three basic areas: his bed in one corner with a small bathroom just off the side, a kitchenette along the opposite wall, and a couch flanked by rocking chairs faced a fireplace at the end. Making your way over to the fireplace you intended on getting a fire going but were distracted by the photos decorating the mantel.

“You served?” Your voice came out sounding loud and strained, not at all the casual way you had intended. Frankie had been gruff with you but never unkind, however, seeing photos of him in uniform instantly raised your hackles. It was an automatic response from being reminded of your husband and you hated it.

Shaking the thought of Brad from your mind, you realized Frankie hadn’t answered and was just standing next to you, staring at the photos with a blank look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried” you spoke softly, not wanting to spook him from his reverie.

You had seen that far-off look on your husband’s face when he had been home between tours. It had always been best to stay quiet and out of sight when he had gotten like that.

Frankie took a sudden step in your direction. That movement, mixed with the current memories swirling in the forefront of your brain, caused you to reflexively throw your arms up to cover your face. Hot tea spilled out of the mug Frankie had been passing to you and immediately burned the skin on your hands and arm.

“I’m sorry!” you cry out, immediately, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Tears were spilling down your cheeks and you had instantly curled up, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Shhhhhh, no, nononono, shhhhhh” Frankie was frantically trying to reassure you while simultaneously trying to get close enough to assess how bad the damage to your skin was. He seemed to know that you were feeling unsafe so he made himself small and lowered himself to the floor. “That was completely my fault, right? Can I see?”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath you calmed yourself enough to see the warmth and worry in his eyes. Your heart immediately constricted for an entirely new reason when you noticed his posturing, how he had made himself smaller than you and had his hands out wide where you could see them, waiting for you to show him the severity of the burns.

This man had dealt with PTSD before.

Nodding, you reached out both hands for Frankie to take and tried to swallow the embarrassment you felt from your little breakdown. That emotion was quickly forgotten, however, when Frankie finally got a look at you and noticed, for the first time, just how swollen your wrist was.

“What happened here?” he asked, sternly “Were you working all day like this?”

“It’s nothing,” you assured him, trying to pull your hands out of his firm but gentle grip, “just a little mishap from this morning. Don’t worry, though, I was able to work just fine.”

He let out of huff of frustration. “You think I’m worried about how many apples you picked? Jesus Christ, you must think I’m the biggest asshole around.”

“No,” you said quietly, still trying to calm down but also wanting to relieve the tension, “that title belonged to my husband. You,” you continued, ignoring the way his head snapped up to your face then back down to check your bare ring finger, “are just the biggest grump around and it’s intimidating.”

Frankie was silent again and watched his jaw tic as he digested this new information. He was still staring at your hands, cradled in his. The bright red hue of your skin must have jarred him from his thoughts because he quickly but carefully stood up, pulling you up with him, and ushered you towards the kitchen. As you sat on the counter with cold tap water flowing over your burning skin, Frankie flitted about searching for salves and gauze to protect the skin once it had been sufficiently cooled. You tried to reassure him that you would be fine but he wasn't hearing it.

He was talking now, hadn't stopped rambling, but of nothing consequential. You had a feeling there were a lot of secrets stored in his heart but knew you weren't in a position to be trusted with them. You found yourself wishing that you were. You hadn't realized you were nodding off, the strain of the past 24 hours finally catching up on you, until Frankie had called your name for the fourth time. He was, respectfully, keeping his distance not wanting to startle you again, but hovering close enough by to catch you if you slumped over in your doze.

"Come on," he murmured sleepily, "let me take you home. We're not getting any more work done here for a while so take a few days to rest."

"Oh Christ," you guffawed in a very unladylike manner, "how did I forget?"

"It looks worse in the light of day." Frankie chimed in, ruefully.

The two of you sat in the idling truck staring at the crumpled hood of your poor truck, which was inconveniently blocking your driveway.

"I'll call for a tow."

While he was on the phone he climbed out of the cab, assessing the damage and trying to figure out how much this was going to cost him. A few minutes later he made his way back into the warmth of his truck, "He won't be here till tomor-". Frankie let the sentence trail off once he noticed you'd fallen asleep, bundled up in the fleece jacket he had lent you. Sitting back in his seat, watching the sunrise dance across your face, Frank took a moment to think about everything that had transpired in such a short amount of time.

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the seat, he figured he'd let you sleep for a few more minutes before making you wake and have to walk the rest of the way to your house.

"As I live and breath..."

Jacquie's jubilant voice woke the both of you with a start. It was evening and Frankie's truck had been idling in your driveway for nearly 8 hours with the two of you passed out cold in the cab. At some point, you had shifted and were resting against Frankie's chest, his body turned toward yours and his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Mark!" She continued to yell, "You owe me fifty bucks!"

PART FIVE

#Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x you #triple frontier fanfiction #Frankie morales x you #catfish x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #catfish x you

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kumkaniudaku · 3 years

Text

Understanding

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17

Recommended Listening: Understanding x Xscape, Purple Emoji (ft. J. Cole) x Ty Dolla $ign, My World x Asian

Word Count: 2,137

If you were going to win an award that afternoon, it’d be for attire, not confidence. Your expertly crafted golf outfit was the only thing willing your feet forward once you parked your car in front of Senior’s golf course.

Black women and men dressed like modern Jet magazine ads waltzed in and out of the clubhouse while you scanned the area for your party. You’d been to your fair share of golf courses, but none as exquisite as The National. Marble accents complemented modern brass finishes and unbeatable views of the city. The desire to take photos for your father was almost too much to shake, but you managed to play it cool. Acting out of place was surely some type of faux pas for the wealthy.

Across the way, Senior sat at the bar sipping a glass of water while thumbing through a newspaper. His furrowed brow was identical to Yahya’s whenever he was knee-deep in work or a good book. The mental comparison made you smile before ushering in a tinge of sadness. For two people so undeniably similar, they were miles apart physically and mentally.

You navigated through groups of young and old alike on the way to the bar.

“You made it on time,” Senior spoke without looking up from a story on education budget cuts.

“I made it with time to spare.”

“You don’t get praise for doing what’s right.”

“Think of how much better things would be if we did.”

Senior paused his reading to take a deep breath and shake his head. You mentally berated yourself for overstepping so soon. Not even five minutes into the outing and you had already committed an avoidable infraction

Yahya I prolonged the unbearable silence as he continued to read through another article, reading each line painstakingly slow while you watched in agony.

“I apologize. That was unnecessary.”

“I’ll ask you again,” he spoke, finally looking away from the newspaper to study your face. “Let’s leave the character right here. We’re here for a purpose, so grab your clubs and follow me to the first hole. I hope your game is as good as you are at running your mouth.” Taking his retort in stride, you quickly grabbed your set of clubs and followed with no objections. “After you.”

Senior found himself immediately impressed though he wouldn’t verbalize his feelings. He watched you breeze through each hole with near expert precision, opening a series of questions at hole 5 during casual small talk.

“Where’d you say you were from again?”

“A tiny town in South Carolina that you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Try me,” he answered while taking stock of his position on the fairway.

“Anderson, South Carolina. Home of Larry Nance and the great Chadwick Boseman.”

“Can’t forget James Kennedy, Young Lady.”

You cocked your head back in surprise. “What you know about Radio? I mean outside of what the movie says?”

Senior remained quiet long enough to take a hard swing. The loud “whiff” of his driver slicing through crisp, clean air didn’t match the stroke’s output. Both of you watch the golf ball sail high into the air before making a landing well short of the intended destination. Senior shook his head at the miscalculation before turning to answer your question.

“Black folks from all over are connected, even without all that Snapgram and Facebook foolishness.”

“I could argue it’s helped, right? How else would you be able to share your granddaughter’s first steps with the whole family?”

“In photo albums. You might not remember those, but they did us just fine.”

“Yeah, but it’s instantaneous conversation and information. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Maybe instantaneous conversation is the problem. We aren’t making enough time to stop and really think about what we’re saying to each other.”

“Mm.” You let the conversation naturally taper before following Senior to his golf cart. The rolling hills provided enough scenery to keep you interested while you sorted the words in your head.

“I think we may have started off on the wrong foot.” You spoke once the cart came to a full stop. Senior trailed behind in silence, gathering a new club while watching you examine the other golfers in the area.

“You’re rather observant.”

You chuckled and plucked a club from your bag. “I’ve been told. Yahya calls me Eagle Eye when I catch something he’s already talked about ten minutes ago.”

“It’s what his Big Mama used to call his Pop-Pop for the same thing. That man was notoriously late to the punchline.” The nostalgia in Yahya I’s voice caught you off guard though he didn’t see your minor fumble. Something in his retelling appealed to your sense of compassion in a way that you considered long gone when it came to him.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You have an issue with my presence that we should discuss. Because I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bold,” Senior responded with a sarcastic laugh. He gestured to nothing in particular as you squared up to take a swing and nodded. “And direct. Continue.”

You took a moment to hit a line drive toward the green in the distance, using the movement as an outlet for the unexpected nerves churning your stomach. Both of you quietly watch the golf ball for its final resting place before you turned to speak.

“You are extremely hard to please, and it is literally ruining your family. Yahya does everything in his power, and, excuse my French, you don’t seem to give a fuck. Why is that?”

“What makes you think that my love isn’t what makes me push him to be the best that he can? It may not be the fluff and frills you’re used to in your home, but it’s what he needs to get him to his potential.”

“Did it help you?”

Senior mistakenly allowed a quick moment of confusion to take over his features. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You tell me. When’s the last time you enjoyed a laugh with your family or felt like you could just...be? You’re carrying a weight that is crushing the people around you, and you don’t even see it.”

“You don’t…” Senior caught his words and bottled them behind his lips. He took a deep breath as he approached his golf ball and took a half-hearted swing. Noticing his misstep, he shook his head. “I’m from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father, Yahya’s Pop-Pop, moved my mother and me to a shotgun shack to find work when things weren’t quite shaking out back home. He was in and out of trouble and such. Couldn’t get right, but he had a natural knack for building and design.”

A nearby group of golfers erupted into laughter, helping to break up some tension.

“So architecture’s been in the family for a while,” you asked. Yahya I curled the corner of his lips into a far-off smile.

“A long, long time. It got us out of that shack when my siblings came along and into a house with our own rooms and a backyard. But, my father was a hard man. Hard to please, you know,” he laughed, making a reference to your earlier words. “He wanted the best from me, and he made damn sure he got it. I needed that to get my head out of the clouds.”

“You also needed some reassurance.”

“Perhaps. But, what’s done is done. I look at what I’ve built with no complaints, especially when it comes to my boys. I couldn’t be more proud of the men they’ve become.”

Senior’s proud smile almost looked foreign on his face. You’d never seen more than an indifferent expression or the slight twinge of anger smoldering behind his eyes.

Leaning on your club, you kept your eyes forward to gaze out over the course.

“Yahya would love to hear that. I don’t know if you know this, but he is desperately searching for your approval. There is not enough praise from me or anyone else that could replace knowing that you’re proud of him. Yet, as much as he would like to tell you these things himself, he’s afraid that you’ll think less of him for being vulnerable.”

“I could never think less of the boy. Tough love is still love.”

“Maybe for you,” you added, shrugging. “But, what good is continuing this cycle if it’s hurting the children you claim to love and the grandchildren after them?”

Senior dropped his head in thought before looking up with an unreadable expression. “Deuce will be fine. He’s all the best parts of his mother. I...I’m confident he’ll figure out fatherhood on his own despite my shortcomings. We raised him well.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping -”

“That has never stopped you before, young lady.” His light-hearted chuckle invited you to follow suit.

“Fair point,” you laughed. “So, let me cut to the chase. Allowing Yahya to just ‘figure things out’ is a passive existence. Yahya says you’re constantly reminding him to take things into his own hands. Sounds like you should take your own advice. Be the parts of your father that you needed at 33.”

Instead of acknowledging your advice, Senior twirled his club in his hand on the way to the golf cart. He maintained an impenetrable poker face that even the most skilled readers couldn’t interpret. You silently hoped that at least some of your words had made it through his thick skull, but you chose to let the discussion meet a natural end.

As he started the cart, Senior turned to you and smiled. “How the hell you learn to swing like that? I know it wasn’t in Anderson.”

“Hey, we play a little golf here and there!”

“Where? Out in the woods?”

“No, out in the Bayou like you did.”

A small smirk crept across your face as Yahya I chuckled at your joke. He sounded identical to Yahya, full of mirth and beautiful melodies.

“The ole Bayou,” he repeated in a thick accent. “You ain’t seen a place more beautiful in your life.”

“Maybe Yahya and I could visit one day.”

He quickly looked over and shrugged. “Maybe. For now, you focus on defending this lead. I think I’m getting back into my rhythm.”

Senior couldn’t make a convincing comeback, but he did show glimpses of a softer, more personable disposition. He cracked jokes on occasion and asked questions that turned the conversation from a therapy session to banter between associates. Your mind traveled to the possibility of civil family dinners or vacations during the ride home. Though it seemed silly to create imaginary scenarios after one conversation, you couldn’t help the urge to see a better future.

Your happiness helped you float into your shared apartment, making Yahya smile when he caught a glimpse of your wide grin and short skirt.

“Damn, girl,” he hollered from the couch with Leche cradled in his arms. “If Tiger was out there cheeked up like that, I might’ve paid a little more attention to the golf network.”

“Oh, really?”

Your raised eyebrow made Yahya kiss his teeth once he caught on to the joke. “You know what I meant. Where you been anyway?”

“Oh, I was just out doing a little golfing...with your dad.”

“Right. That was today, huh?”

Even Yahya’s best attempt at feigning interest, his question came out in a flat drone typically used on annoying coworkers. You dropped your purse and keys against a nearby barstool on the way to his spot on the couch.

“It was today. I think we had a good time,” you answered as you slid your arms around his neck from behind, placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. “He didn’t yell at me.”

“You must’ve kissed his ass the entire time.”

“No. We talked about how great I am at golf. I mean, I kicked his ass.”

“Good on you, baby girl. Bring honor to our house.” In a surprise maneuver, Yahya pulled you over the couch and into the space beside him. “Is that all?”

Silence blanketed the room, allowing the college basketball game in the background to have center stage. You considered your options carefully, weighing the pros of a potential argument against a peaceful Saturday indoors. Yahya turned his attention back to the television as he waited for a response.

“Did you hear me, baby? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“No!” You blurted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slid the remote off the coffee table and pressed the power button. Yahya blinked twice at his reflection on the black television screen before turning to you for answers. Your fingers danced across his thighs to interlock with his long digits.

“I think...I think we need to have a real talk about your dad.”

----

A/N: I hope this is better late than never. Only two more chapters left! Really striving to have those to y’all by the end of the month.

Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

@earthformelanin @mufasathatniggatho @hidden-treasures21@justanotherloveaffair @jozigrrl @essaysbyciara @chaneajoyyy@determinednot2fall @honey-lamb-k @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @walkrightuptothesun @ghostfacekill-monger @trillistb@shaekingshitup @purplehairgawdess @xo-goldengirl@steampunkprincess147 @twistedcharismaaa @fandomfavesss@bugngiz @lifelover4u @ljstraightnochaser @l-auteuse @itsjustyazz@energy-innerg @lahuttor @sagittariusroyalty@chrisgalore @grandadchadwick @blowmymbackout@supersizemeplz @just-peachee @itskikilove @eyeknowmywrites @aanairb @blackburnbook @leahnicole1219 @lovedersha @cant-decide-at-this-moment @jasmindaughteroftheworld

#Yahya Abdul Mateen II #Yahya Abdul-Mateen II #yahya abdul mateen ii fan fiction #yahya abdul mateen ii fic

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stardusttrashed · 4 years

Text

The Games you Play- Bakugou Katsuki

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k+

A/n: All characters are aged up to 18, slightly nsfw

“Please y/n,” Midoriya asked in a hushed tone, his beaming smile never breaking. “He’ll listen to you, he always does.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and turned toward the green-haired boy buzzing with excitement. “He does not! Why can’t you just ask, Deku?”

“You know Bakugou won’t listen to him,” Uraraka quickly chimed in, defending Midoriya. “But he seems to like you enough to listen to you-.”

“He listens to Kirishima too, y’know,” you spoke a bit too loud as you cut her off. The thought of Bakugou liking you back made your cheeks grow warm. Sure, you’ve spent plenty of time inside and outside of classes with him, but you had convinced yourself he saw you as nothing but a friend. Heck, even the term friend may be a bit of a stretch.

“Who will listen to me?” Kirishima questioned as he slid into the circle, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Bakugou. Midoriya wants Y/n to ask him to join our class bonding activity. He seems to think if she asks he is more likely to agree.” Tenya eagerly broke down the situation, his tone a bit too loud for the quiet conversation the group held.

Kirishima shrugged and nodded nonchalantly, “he’ll definitely come if you ask. Dude kinda has a soft spot for ya.” His eyes lit up with a mischievous glint as he caught a glimpse at who was entering the room over your shoulder. “Now hurry up and ask so we can leave. Trust me you’ll be fine,” he laughed as he shoved you gently.

You stumbled back a bit, yelping a quiet protest before you crashed into a hard surface. A large hand wrapped around your waist to steady you. “Oi, watch where you’re going, idiot.” The group quickly turned away, acting as if they had no idea what was going on. You felt your body tense up, the butterflies in your stomach set ablaze at the sound of his voice. He must’ve just came in from a workout, the veins in his forearms and tiredness in his voice still prominent. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was wearing his signature black tank. The tank that clung to his chest, leaving little about his muscular stature to the imagination.

“Are you goin’ to move sometime today? I kinda have things to do.”

Mustering all the courage you had, you turned to face him. You had to force your eyes away from the tight black tank clinging to his sculpted chest and up to his fiery eyes. “Aw, I thought you liked holding me,” you teased, batting your eyelashes at him only to receive an eye roll. The hand resting on your waist tightened slightly, almost unnoticeably. You had his complete attention. Well almost, it was hard not to notice and keep an eye out for the idiots pretending to be busy behind you. “C-come to the arcade with me, er, I mean us.” You did a mental facepalm at the slip of your tongue. “Everyone from our class will be there. I thought it’d be fun and Uraraka convinced Tenya it’d be a good class bonding outing for us. But it’s cool if you don’t want to come. I just figured you could hang with Kirishima or make fun of Deku. Or-.”

“Geez, you’ve been hangin’ out with damn Deku too much. Blabbering, like an idiot” despite his somewhat harsh words you couldn’t help but notice the playful smirk on his lips. “Almost like you just like hearing your own voice.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not the only one who likes it, hothead. We’re meeting outside in an hour and we’re heading to the nearby arcade together. You better be there or I’ll kick your ass the next time I see you.” You sauntered away towards the elevators, ignoring the streaming profanities being shouted behind you.

----

You looked around the group, searching for your favorite blond other than All Might. Just as you were about to give up hope something in the doorway caught your attention.

Bakugou begrudgingly walked through the doors, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Oi, if you bozos don’t hurry up we’ll run outta time,” he shouted as if he had been waiting on everyone the whole time. He glanced at you, slyly taking in your outfit change from earlier, before walking past the group. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t the reason he came. He couldn’t give two shits about ‘class bonding’, but getting to hang with you without having to be the one to ask. Now that, that’s what got him to come.

After a quick walk and train ride-- both of which were full of Mina’s comments about this being the time to act on yours and Uraraka’s crushes-- you all had arrived at a small arcade.

“Okay, but hear me out, guys. All you have to do is invite them to play a game with you. Bing bang, done,” Mina continued in a whisper as you all poured into the small building.

Jiro caught a glimpse of your expression and quickly chimed in. “One game and Mina has to leave you both alone about it for two weeks.”

You looked over at Uraraka contemplating the offer. “It can’t be that bad right, Y/n,” she finally spoke after a moment. “Not like we have to tell them how we feel,” she seemed to be rationing more to herself than you. “It’ll be just like hanging out at school or in the dorms. No biggie.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” You turned to Mina with a pointed finger, “but not a peep after okay?” You relaxed slightly as she made a zipping gesture across her lips.

The two of you separated from the group of girls, all of you scattering about the place. Uraraka had decided to invite Deku to a game of Skeeball. You watched the pair make their way over to the line of machines before deciding to focus on your task.

“Is this what you do at arcades,” Bakugou scoffed as he walked up to you. “In case you didn’t know you’re supposed to play games or something.”

“Then why are you here and not playing,” you shot back. You leaned against the table behind you.

“Playing with you is fun enough for me.” You rolled your eyes in hopes of distracting him from the blush forming in your cheeks.

“Is that the only reason you came?” You took a challenging step toward him with a raised eyebrow. “To play with me? I know it’s not ‘cause you wanna bond with our classmates.” You paused, waiting for him to do something other than stare at you with a frown. “Y’know, some of our classmates seem to think you kinda like me.”

“Who the hell said that?!” Bakugou’s eyes darkened as he scanned the room, glaring at the classmates paying no attention to him. “I’ll beat their ass! I bet it was that damned Deku! Buncha damn idiots.” He continued to mutter under his breath, his focus now on looking around the room for the green-haired boy.

You laughed quietly at his avoidance of the exact answer. He’s cute when he’s all worked up, sparks flickering from his hands. Maybe that’s why you always riled him up, pushing his buttons until you could hear his tough kid act. Knowing when it came to you it was all bark. A smirk played with your lips as they landed on a photo booth. “Cool it sparky, come take pictures with me.”

Bakugou’s lips curled up into a sneer as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The annoyance from his earlier outburst still simmered inside of him. You always did that. Got him to explode just so you could sit there with that stupid, beautiful, heart-stopping smile. It drove him crazy. “Like I’d do something so irritating,” he clicked his tongue. “Who goes to an arcade to take pictures?! Why don’t you ask pretty boy icy hot to take dumbass photos with you?”

“Fine,” you shrugged, calling his bluff. Before he could say another word or make a move you made your way over to Todoroki. You leaned against the claw machine he focused on intently, watching the way your best friend’s brows furrowed in concentration. “Todoroki, can you take pictures with me,” you mused once he finished unsuccessfully. “I have pictures with like everyone else in the class but you.” You shot him your best puppy dog face.

Watching you talk to icy hot made Bakugou’s blood boil. The way you leaned in a bit. Or how you took his hand after he agreed. Your angelic smile. That should be him, but his loud mouth spoke before he could think. He didn’t expect you to actually call his bluff, thinking he could get you to ask just one more time. Not to be a dick, but so he could hear those words fall off your lips. So he could relish in you asking him to do something other than train with him or drag him to class movie nights. As much as he hated that you were making the first move and not him, he hated watching you giggle away with Todoroki more. That’s supposed to be him making you giggle. He’d let you press all of his buttons for just a chance to hear your quiet little giggle.

It didn’t take him long after watching you and Todoroki walk out the booth to make his way over to you. He calloused hand wrapped around yours, tugging you into the booth with him as he grumbled, “come in idiot.” His heart fluttered at the feeling of your soft hand in his. It was different compared to when the two of you trained together. He hadn’t realized how soft you were before, even when you’d come over to cuddle him during movie nights.

“Katsuki,” you chuckled as you let him pull you back into the booth you just stepped out of. You were barely able to wave bye to Todoroki before the curtain closed behind you. “I thought taking pictures at an arcade was stupid.”

“It is.” He plopped himself down on the bench, “but if it’ll make you smile, whatever.” He mumbled the second part of his statement, but the close space ensured you heard it. You smiled shyly, doing everything in your power to pretend you didn’t hear that.

“Damn it’s cramped in here.”

You shrugged and sat beside him, “it was fine when Todoroki and I were in here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m bigger than him.” You let out an amused hum at his claim. It was true, Todoroki had a slimmer frame in comparison, but not enough to back Bakugou’s reasoning. “Come ‘ere.” His usually rough hands gently lifted you off the small bench and onto his lap. “See? More room now.” He moved to the middle of the bench, his hands resting on your hips.

You smirked and wiggled ever so slightly to ‘get comfy’. “Definitely. What was I doing thinking we could fit sitting next to each other,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. You shifted so he could see the knowing smirk on your lips. “Not like you’re just trying to show up Todoroki or anything.”

Steam was practically fuming out of his ears and you couldn’t tell if it was his typical anger or from embarrassment. “Do you want the damn picture or not,” he barked as he jammed coins into the machine. “Annoying ass.” His grip on your hips tightened slightly, pulling you closer to him. His chest was pushed flush against your back, providing you with a comfortable warmth.

Bakugou’s scowl remained pressed into his face as the countdown for the first picture reached zero. Even now you couldn’t help but think of how handsome his features are. The way his fiery eyes tried so desperately to display their normal anger. The small glimpse of his teeth through his lips. You were infatuated by him, to say the least, which spurred your next actions on.

“Can you smile at least once Katsuki?” You turned your head so that your nose brushed against his jawline. You trailed your nose along his smooth skin up to his cheek while keeping in mind the continuing countdown. 5. “As hot as your scowl is I wanna see you smile.” 4. “Pretty please,” you dragged out the two words the best you could. 3.

The close proximity of you two combined with the feeling of your breath against him drove made his mind hazy. All he could do was watch you through the screen and pray you couldn’t feel the growing bulge in his pants. Or even worse, his ramming heart. 2. His eyes sparkled with excitement despite every attempt he made to stop them. That’s when you struck, your soft lips pressing gently against his cheek. 1.

“What the hell you do that for?” You were sure his bark could be heard across the arcade, but you couldn’t care less. The blush gracing his cheeks was absolutely priceless and you managed to catch it on camera. Your sweet laughter only helped spread the blush onto his ears. “Oi, cut it out!” You threw your head back with laughter, the melodious sound ringing through his ears. “What’s so funny, eh?”

“Y- your face,” you attempted to speak through your fit of giggles. “Didn’t look so tough then. Maybe you are a softie Bakugou.” His name sounded like honey dripping from your lips.

Bakugou rolled his eyes and tried to force another scowl onto his features, but it was no use. Watching you laugh with your entire being made him feel warm, at ease even. There wasn’t anyone or anything else in the world that matter to him right now other than making that sound continue. Your smile and laughter were absolutely contagious. Before he knew it he was laughing along with you. Or at least he was before the flash of the photo booth brought him back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah. Real funny.” He desperately was trying to regain his tough composure before the final countdown finished. His only problem was your dying giggles made it unbelievably difficult. That’s when it hit him, “let’s see how you like it.” His calloused fingers caught your chin, gently turning your head to face him once again. He was hesitant, yet somehow confident at the same time. As if he knew exactly what he wanted, but wanted to make sure you wanted the same. His crimson eyes looked down from your own to your lips, desire clouding his vision.

He had fantasized about kissing you from the first time he fought you during training, but he didn’t think he’d ever actually get the chance. You were the typical nice girl, the girl that everyone in the class got along with. Never one to start any trouble. But when he fought against you he saw an entirely different side. You were snarky the entire time, confidently taunting him. You didn’t even flinch at his outburst or threats, you just threw threats right back at him. That’s what he liked most about you, you weren’t soft like people made you out to be. Since then he took every chance he had to spend time with you. Every after school training, class required team-ups, and free weekends spent with you and Kirishima only made his desire increase. His fantasies began to take over, filling his mind day and night. And yet, here he was.

“If you’re gonna kiss me then get on with it,” your voice came out as a shaky whisper. His hot breath ghosted your lips which made the butterflies in your stomach dance with anticipation. You lifted your head slightly to let him know you wanted this as much as he did.

That was all he needed for him to roughly crash his lips onto yours. He hungrily leaned into you, desperate to get closer. You bunched up his shirt in your hand in an attempt to pull him closer. He had to keep you close. He needed to prove to himself that all of his fantasies were nonsense. Or maybe it was to prove to himself that this was real. That someone like you would give him the time of day.

The roughness quickly dissolved into a soft yet insatiable hunger. Your lips were so much softer than he imagined, it took everything in him not to melt. Your hands rummaged through his blond hair, tugging whenever you tried to get closer. You were flush up against him yet there was still too much space in between. You needed this just as much as he did. Bakugou’s grip on your hip tightened as if to anchor himself. He furrowed his brows as he deepened the kiss, determined to make this moment last as long as possible. You both could barely breathe, but neither had intentions on breaking. As much as he enjoyed pecking your soft lips, he craved more. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip.

The bright flash quickly reminded you of your surroundings causing you to begrudgingly break the kiss. You kept your eyes closed as you waited for the haze in your mind to clear. “Been hopin’ you’d do that for a while now,” you chuckled, ghosting your lips over his before opening your eyes. You were met with his drunken gaze, his crimson irises undeniably intoxicated by you as they took in every curve of your face.

His chuckle spent shivers down your spine, “all you had to do was ask, idiot.” He growled quietly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips then the crook of your neck.

“Didn’t think you’d be that good.” His eyes darkened at your playful tone. “Or that you’d even have the balls to-.” You were cut off by another kiss, rough enough to shut you up but quick enough to leave you wanting more. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and gently tugged.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak a familiar voice cut in, “anyone in there?” You were greeted by Mina pulling back the curtain, her mischievous grin growing wide at the sight of you two. One look at your swollen lips and Bakugou’s messier than usual hair and she knew automatically, but the pictures would confirm it.

“Mina no-,” you begged as she disappeared back behind the curtain. You jumped out of the booth with Bakugou close behind only to hear Mina’s squeal. The role of photos laid in her hand as she scanned each picture. You could feel your cheeks growing warmer by the second. “Hand ‘em over Mina.” You made a failed attempt to grab the role from her.

“Mind your damn business raccoon eyes,” Bakugou hissed as he snatched both roles out of her hand. You sent him a wide-eyed look. “What? She doesn’t need to see the pictures to know you’re mine.” He carefully shoved the roles into his pockets. His strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. Your back pressed against his chest as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, whispering against your skin. “You are mine right?”

You ignored Mina’s excited gaze as you turned around to face him. “Duh, dumbass. Took you long enough to realize it.”

#mha #mha bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo headcanons #mha fanfic #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo fanart #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Jungkook X Reader ~ Insecure [Request]

>>> Word Count: 5,132

>>> Genre: The tinest amount of Angst I can manage to do and a Fluffy ending

>>> Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

>>> A/N: Okay if you’ve never cried to a stranger on a plane or train you’re missing out, they give the best advice and give you snacks (P.s thanks to that old lady that helped me that one time) . That shit helps so much, it’s amazing I promise. Lmao. I hope this is okay for you, I loved writing this!! but if it’s not what you wanted let me know and I’ll rewrite :)

You stared at yourself in the mirror as the stylist worked, as she said it herself, her magic on you.

"He's going to love you!" She said in a thick British accent, you smiled at her in the mirror and looked down at your hands. You weren't used to all of this. People working around you, pampering you and making sure you looked as good as possible but Jungkook was going all out for your four-month anniversary. He'd flown you out to meet him in Paris and you were now sitting in your luxury hotel room getting your hair and makeup done.

"You now look breathtaking!" The stylist said as she finished curling your hair, you smiled again and looked at yourself in the mirror. Looking back at you was someone you didn't even recognise, you didn't even think you'd be friends with the person you could see in the mirror. You looked completely different to what you would normally look like but you didn't want to offend anyone in the room,

"Thanks, I love it." You said getting up from the chair and going over to the wardrobe, you'd gotten the perfect outfit ready for your date before you flew out. It was a pair of blue jeans with a knot front top in black since you were just going to a small cafe for an evening meal.

"This way my dear." Someone said pulling you through to the en-suite and unzipping a black dress bag in front of you. Inside was one of the most expensive red dresses you'd ever seen in your life,

"Mr Jeon had it flown in for you." You stared at the dress that was hanging on the hanger in front of you. This was what Jungkook wanted to see you like? Dressed up in an expensive dress, makeup so you looked nothing like yourself and heels that looked like you would snap your neck the second you took a step in them.

"Thanks," You whispered as two women came in and helped you changed into the maxi dress, you suddenly felt insecure wearing it. It had a split up the left leg which raised to the middle of your thigh, and the front was a low V design practically leaving you on display for everyone to see. You could have sworn if you bent over too much you'd slip out of the dress and the spaghetti straps weren't doing much to cover your arms.

"Now the heels." You stared down at the rose gold strapped heels and shook your head.

"I'll break a bone." You whispered to the stylist on your right who shook her head at you,

"Wear them with confidence and you'll be fine." In translate, 'Wear them because Jungkook wants you to.' You stared at yourself in the full-length mirror and then over at the stylists who were all staring at you with bright smiles.

"You look perfect! Enjoy your date." They said as they left the room, leaving you to stare at the woman you hardly knew anymore. Your phone vibrated on the side and you slowly made your way over to it, thinking 'confidence' and trying not to fall on your face.

"Are you ready for the best date of your life?" Jungkook asked through the phone and you relaxed instantly as you heard his voice,

"I'm more than ready, come and get me." You giggled back to him, hanging up the phone and going back to the bathroom. You didn't bother to take a photo of yourself, why would you when you didn't know her.

Jungkook was sitting across from you in the restaurant, so much for a small cafe.

"I thought we were going to a small cafe." You whispered to him after the waiter passed your table, Jungkook smiled at you and took your hand in his ontop of the table and ran his fingers along your knuckles.

"This is small." You stared at him. This was small? Then your apartment back home was diminutive in comparison to it. He read your facial expression and he shook his head at you,

"Let's just have fun okay?" You nodded in agreement and a waiter poured you both a glass of champagne and handed you the menus.

"How are you liking Paris?" You question Jungkook as you glanced over the menu, finally, the french glasses that were forced upon you in school were coming into use for you. He glanced up from the menu to you and you smiled, you hadn't seen him since you landed in Paris since he had a show last night but tonight he was all yours.

"I'm loving it, Namjoon gave me a list of things we can do tomorrow." He told you putting down his menu and smiling at you, it was the most you'd seen him smile in a while and you didn't know if it was because you were there or if he was suddenly having a boost in mood.

"I'm glad you're here with me Y/n." You smiled at him and he kissed the top of your hand.

"Are we ready to order sir?" Jungkook nodded and began reading off the menu and you stared at him with a smile, the waiter turned to you and you read off what you wanted in french, handing him the menu back and watching him walk away. Jungkook stared at you with an eyebrow raised,

"I didn't know you were fluent in French." You sipped on your drink and wiggled your eyebrows at him.

"There's a lot of you don't know about me Kookie." You joked as he laughed along with you, taking your hand in his.

"Well, I hope you stay with me long enough to find out every small detail about you." You felt your heart begin to beat faster at the thought of it, your mind going back to when you first met him.

You'd gone to Korea for a trip to spend on your own, deciding you needed more adventure in your life.

"You okay?" A cool voice asked from behind you, you turned to look at who was talking to you and you were met with the most beautiful man you'd ever seen in your life. He was around 5''10 and had the most gorgeous sparkly eyes you'd ever seen and he had a tiny dimple on his cheek as he smiled at you,

"Y-Yeah, just a little lost." You stuttered out, still stunned by someone so good looking talking to you. He chuckled showing his bunny smile and you could have died on the spot.

"Where are you trying to go?" You looked at the map in front of you,

"Back to my hotel, I forgot my camera and I need- You don't need my life story, sorry." You laughed looking back down at the map and trying to figure out where you were on it.

"What's the hotel?" You told him and he nodded taking out his phone and typing in the address,

"I'm heading that way, I'll walk with you." You thanked him and you both started walking to your hotel in silence,

"You said you forgot your camera, you're a photographer?" You shook your head,

"I just take photos and film things for a hobby. I enjoy editing them all together." You told him as you continued walking, confused as to why people were turning to stare at you both so you looked at the ground.

"Me too, it's a little hard at the moment. I'm always busy with work." You nodded in agreement with him,

"Oh, I feel that. Took me five years to save up for this trip, so I'm loving it up as much as I can and filming every moment." He chuckled at you and you stopped outside your hotel.

"Thanks for bringing me back, I probably would have been lost all day." He laughed at you and then scratched the back of his neck,

"How about I be your tour guide for the day? I'm not busy and I'm sure it'll be fun." You stared at him faking a glare,

"You sure you're not some serial killer?" He shook his head at you,

"I'm almost 95% sure." You giggled and nodded along with him,

"I'd love that...Oh, I don't know your name?"

"Jungkook, and you are?" You smiled, he even had the perfect name.

"Yn," He repeated it back to you with a giant smile on his face.

After the day together you got closer, he asked you out on a date where he told you about who he really was and it scared you at first. You knew why people were staring at you in the street now but he assured you it wouldn't affect your dates together and you would still have fun together so you continued to date him. Four months later and you were sitting in the most expensive restaurant in Paris together.

"We should film some of our time together like we did in Korea." He suggested as if he'd read your mind about your memory of first meeting him.

"It'll be fun, what's the first thing we're doing?" You questioned,

"I was thinking we could go to Louvre first, and then Namjoon said there is a cute cafe around the corner and we can have some lunch." You nodded along with him and leant back against the chair when the food was brought over to you.

The bill came at the end of the night and you stared at it, it was more expensive than a year worth of rent for you. Jungkook took out his card as if it was nothing and paid for it, helping you up from the chair and slowly walking out of the restaurant with you, hand in hand.

"Thanks for a wonderful evening." You told him as he helped you down the last step of the restaurant, he shook his head.

"It should be me thanking you, you look incredible." You looked down at the dress and smiled softly, did he only say that because you were dressed up fancy? Everything you'd been thinking back in the hotel was coming back to your head.

"We should go and have a photo taken before we go back to the hotel." You shook your head at him, wanting nothing more than to go back to the hotel, strip out of the dress and change into one of his shirts and cuddle him all night long.

"But you look amazing!" He chuckled spinning you around under his arm, but you tripped over the heels and dress, falling back into his arm and looking up at him, people around you all 'aweing' at you both as if he'd purposely dipped you.

"See, they all think so too." You stood up straight and followed him over to a wall of flowers, and he asked a passer-by to take your photos. You did your best to fake a smile in the pictures and then followed him back to the hotel in silence.

"You okay? You've been quiet," You nodded at him, holding your head.

"Just a headache, think it's the champagne." You lied looking at the floor.

"You should go lay down in your room, I'll come and get you in the morning." He told you as he pushed the hair from your face, you smiled at him and he kissed your lips. You tried not to act as though something was wrong and kissed him back, smiling as he pulled away and walked you up to your door.

"Goodnight Kookie." You whispered, kissing his cheek and walking into the hotel room. Jungkook walked away with a giant smile on his face going back to his room and telling Namjoon about the perfect night you'd both had while you kicked off the heels in your room. Falling down onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling, contemplating everything that had happened. Your mind racing ahead of you and telling you everything you thought was true. He only flew you out because he wanted to dress you up, he made you look nothing like yourself. He changed everything about you because he doesn't love the real you. How could he? He was used to luxury things in life and you weren't.

"Fuck." You whispered as you felt yourself crying, you got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom, carefully taking yourself out of the dress and putting it back in its bag. You turned on the shower and looked at yourself in the mirror, you took off the fake eyelashes and started washing off the makeup. Finally being able to see yourself again and you felt your eyes welling up.

'He only wants to change you, how could he love someone so different from him?' Your mind was running wild so you jumped into the shower, trying to let the water relax you but it was doing nothing for you.

Jungkook came to your room the next day and used the key to let himself inside, but you weren't in the bed. It didn't look like you'd slept there. He frowned looking around, the wardrobe was empty and your suitcases were gone. He walked into the bathroom and saw the dress you'd been wearing hung up and a note attached to the bag.

'Jungkook,

I can't keep doing this. Last night was one of the most amazing nights of my life but I can't do it again. I love you but please don't come looking for me. You're used to this lifestyle, being pampered but this is all too much for me and I can't be with someone who just wants to change me to fit into their life. I want someone who will understand me, a date in jeans and a small cafe, not some giant posh restaurant where one meal would be two months of rent for me.

You deserve someone better than me, someone, who will already be accustomed to your way of living, someone who would enjoy being spoilt and dressed up in fancy clothes.

I love you,

Y/n.'

Attached to the note was the bracelet he'd gotten you for your second anniversary and he took out his phone, calling your number but it was going straight to answerphone, meaning you were either on a plane or you were ignoring his calls.

"Jungkook, what's going on?" Namjoon asked as the younger boy rushed back into their shared room and looked around for something.

"I need to leave, she left." Namjoon frowned and sat up in the bed.

"She left? Where did she go, her ticket isn't valid until Friday." But Jungkook knew you, you would have worked your way around that.

You did, you swapped your ticket with an elderly lady who thanked you with a giant smile, and you were on your way home. Making plans with your boss to come back to work early. You needed to keep your mind off Jungkook and throwing yourself back into work was the only way you could imagine yourself doing it. You were also going to have to find somewhere else to go, he knew where you lived and maybe you were overthinking it a little but you needed to stay with someone else until things cooled down.

"Thank you for flying with us, we'll be taking off shortly." You relaxed against the seat and closed your eyes, wanting to put everything behind you and move on. You were also trying not to cry on a plane full of people, the elderly couple next to you being cute and making you think of Jungkook.

'You're not good enough for him. He deserves better' You reminded yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat and trying to sleep the plane journey away instead of keeping your mind running but the lady next to you tapped your shoulder.

"Are you alright my darling?" You looked at her and faked a smile but she saw straight through it,

"Tell me everything, we're going to be here a while." You smiled at her and looked at your palms, were you really about to spill your guts to someone you didn't know?

"Did you fight with your boyfriend?" You shook your head,

"Not exactly,"

After explaining everything to her she stared at you with a blank expression,

"You can't run away from all of your problems." She told you, handing you a tissue from her handbag and shaking her head at you.

"If that boy loves you, what's the problem?" She questioned as you wiped your face, you looked at the floor.

"He tried to change me, you didn't see the way he looked at me when I was dressed up. He'd never looked at me like that before," You said between sobs and she wrapped an arm around you, dragging your head to lay on her shoulder as she comforted you.

"My Harold," She turned to look at her husband who was snoring in the chair next to her,

"Was the same way when we first started dating. He tried to give me all of these different presents, in a way to keep me...He thought it was the only reason he could keep me around. Maybe your man is the same?" You nodded at her, not wanting to accept that was what it was. You knew that Jungkook just wanted to dress you up, to make you look better, so he would feel good to be out with you. In the whole four months you were dating he would do it a lot, it started with the diamond bracelet he got you for your anniversary. Then the matching diamond earrings you wouldn't wear, too scared to lose them. They were locked away at home and you were going to have to send them back to him.

Jimin was with Jungkook at the airport while he waited for his plane to come in. He was going after you, he had a week off from the tour and he was going to beg you to come back if he had to.

"Jungkook, she said to leave her." But Jungkook wasn't going to stand for it, he was going to chase you all year if he had to, all his life if it meant you would stay with him.

"You don't get it Jimin." He told him as his plane number was read out, he started walking towards the terminal and Jimin was trying to protest it,

"When you love someone, you don't just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy...Even then. Especially then! And you don't let the one you love go if they think the wrong thing." He left Jimin and walked through the terminal going to find his seat and stared out of the window. Wondering how he was going to find you, you were too smart to go back to your apartment, and the only other person he knew was your mum but you were too smart to go there. He took out his phone once he was allowed to and called your mum, to ask if she would tell him if she heard from you, to which she agreed. She adored you and Jungkook together. She didn't know everything but she knew when you came back from your trip to Korea you were happiest she'd ever seen you before and she wanted you to be that way all of the time.

"I'll be at the dance school all day, you sure you're okay here?" Zoe, your friend from work, asked as you sat on her sofa holding a cup of coffee. You nodded at her and she walked out of the door, you'd arrived early hours of the morning four nights ago and she picked you up from the airport. Telling you how much of an idiot you were to give up on an opportunity of being in Paris with the one you loved and she continued ranting for most of the night until she passed out asleep while you laid awake and tried not to turn on your phone. It was easier to ignore him while the phone was switched off and in your handbag.

You grabbed your laptop from your bag and turned it on, deciding to go onto Youtube to try and occupy yourself with something other than him but that wasn't going to work because as soon as the laptop turned on you were greeted with a photo of you together. It was a photo of you and him in Korea, he'd taken you to the Mountain Ansan Jarak-Gil trail. You clicked on the folder with his name and looked through the video of you both together, watching with the music in the background. Why did you have to put such a sad song in the background? 'You Say' by Lauren Daigle started playing in the background and you teared up watching photos of you and him passing by, then it switched to videos of you both. Him feeding you noodles while you tried not to die from how spicey they were. More videos of you both passed, him cuddling you while you stood in front of the camera. He told you it was a photo but it wasn't, it was a video which turned into your first kiss with him.

"Shit." You whispered as you wiped your eyes and slammed the laptop shut, not wanting to watch anymore. You knew you had to go and be with someone who would understand what you were going through.

"She'll come to her senses, you're the best thing to ever happen to her." She said one morning as he sat on the sofa staring at a photo of you on the mantle place.

"Has she tried calling you yet?" He questioned and your mum shook her head,

"She'll be back at work today, you could always go and see her?" He shook his head knowing that would be too creepy for him to just show up on the doorstep of your work and ask to see you.

"I'm sure she'll call you soon." Your mother told him, patting his back and going to make him something to eat. Claiming he looked like he hadn't had a proper meal in weeks, which was partially true. He'd been staying with your mum for the last two days and he hadn't touched anything except for the odd bite of a sandwich. He couldn't eat or sleep without knowing where you were, he missed you too much to be able to function properly. He had the boys calling him every now and again to ask if he'd anything but he always said the same thing.

"Mum?" He heard your voice before he could register anything, the door slammed shut and your mum came rushing into the living room holding a spatula and staring at you, you hadn't noticed Jungkook sitting on the sofa.

"Y/n? What's wrong?!" She questioned as she noticed your eyes were bright red and you were crying, you sniffled and Jungkook rushed to his feet grabbing your attention.

"Jungkook?" You frowned wiping your face and looking between him and your mum who looked sheepishly at you.

"I'll leave you alone for a moment." She said going past you and giving you a kiss on the cheek, she wondered upstairs and you stared at Jungkook.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, what are you doing here?" You stared at him with a blank expression

"She's my mum..." He looked at you and then to your bags, you had all of your suitcases with you which meant he was right about you not going back to your own apartment.

"You left without saying anything." You looked at the floor, eyes filling up with tears at the thought of Paris.

"I left a note." You told him and he brought it out of his pocket and handed it to you,

"Don't come looking for me?" He questioned and you stared at the small piece of paper, tears falling down onto it.

"Jungkook I-"

"Don't, don't say what's on that piece of paper. Look at me and tell me how you feel." You looked up from the paper and swallowed, he looked like a wreck. He hadn't slept right in days and neither had you, you'd missed him too much to be able to sleep.

"I'm not good enough for you, you deserve someone better." You managed to get out and at the moment he knew you believed what you were saying. He stepped forward and you blinked, letting more tears fall from your face.

"You deserve someone who will be able to spoil you back...Who doesn't work three jobs just to make ends met, someone who can give you the world." You wiped your face with your sleeve and he stared at the shirt you were wearing. It was his.

"I love you too much to hold you back Kookie." You whimpered and that was it, he pulled you into his chest and you didn't bother to fight him on it. You just laid your head against his pecks and cried into them, both of you sinking onto the floor on your knees.

"I love you too much to let you do this, I'm not leaving and you're not." He told you, putting his legs either side of your body and holding your head against his chest, his hand patting your head softly,

"I will tell you every day that you're more than good for me if that's what it takes." You continued to sob against him and he kissed the top of your head.

"I'll give it all up, I don't need all of the expensive things, no more expensive dates, no more meals that are more expensive than your rent. I'll do anything please don't leave me." You pushed your head away from his chest and stared up at him through your blurry vision, he was crying as well.

"Jungkook-"

"Let me finish. I don't need any of that stuff, I don't want any of it if it means I can't have you Jagi." He whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear and cupping your face in his hair.

"I don't want it." He repeated and you sniffled staring at him.

"But you love it, it's what you love doing." He shook his head at you,

"I love you more than it." You weren't going to let him do this, you weren't going to let him throw everything away because of you, you pushed yourself out of his grasp and sat opposite him.

"Jungkook I won't let you give anything up for me, it's your dream." You told him, remembering all the long conversations you had about dreams. How he told you he was living his dream life,

"It's not my dream without you." He admitted taking your hand, you stared at your hands and then up to his face. He was staring at you, wondering what you were thinking.

"I won't let you." He shook his head at you and moved closer to you, you stared at him.

"I won't let you go." He reminded you and you knew this conversation was going nowhere soon.

"I don't want anything if it means I can't have you." You stared at him,

"But you were trying to get me to wear expensive dresses...The jewellery? The presents?" He shook his head at you,

"I gave you things thinking it would make up for me not being around all of the time...I figured if I gave you presents you would stay while I was away." You scoffed and he frowned at you,

"I had a conversation with an elderly lady on the plane...Her husband did the same thing when they were younger...I guess she was right." He smiled softly at you and you shook your head at him,

"But Jungkook, I don't need that stuff to stay around. I love you and only you. You could buy me a bookmark and I would adore it." He chuckled at you and pulled you into his arms again.

"I would adore you if you rocked up to a date in a bin bag." He whispered in your ear, maybe you did overreact a little bit.

"So does this mean you'll stay with me?" He questioned as you relaxed in his arms, you nodded and closed your eyes. For the first time in days, you felt tired and relaxed enough to sleep.

"I love you." You whispered to him, and he smiled down at you, moving hair from your face so he could see you properly.

"I love you too Jagi." He whispered looking up to see your mum coming down the stairs, he smiled at her and then looked down at you again. You were asleep in his arms and he felt at peace with you there.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to see you a lot...I'm sorry I ran off." You told him at the airport, he had to go back to the boys for the rest of the tour and you'd done nothing but say sorry for the last hour.

"If you don't stop saying sorry I will pack you into my bag and take you with me." He threatened as he turned to look at you, you pouted and he smiled kissing your lips.

"I'm still sorry." You giggled, he glared at you playfully and he wrapped his arms around your body,

"I'll see you next month when the tour is over, you can take me to all the tourist spots you know here." He nodded in agreement and he ran his thumb along your cheek, smiling at you.

"I'll miss you." He told you as he kissed your lips again,

"I'll miss you too." You whispered standing up on your tiptoes and kissing him.

"Flight 456 to Paris now boarding." He groaned hearing his number being called and kissed you again, his arms wrapping around your waist to lift you up closer to him.

"I love you." You whispered as he pulled away and he grunted not wanting to leave you just yet,

"I know I've kissed you like ten times but just like...Another ten, please?" You giggled and kissed him quickly all over his face nine times and then on his lips.

"Go, before you hold the plane up." You whispered to him, kissing his cheek and watching him walk away from you, waving as he turned around to look at you.

"See you soon!" He yelled making a couple behind him wince and you to giggle.

"See you soon Kookie!" You screamed not caring about the people around you staring. All you cared about was the love you had for that man child.

Tagline:

@yourguessisasgoodasminemate @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @btsiguess-kpop @ficdump101 @babymochichimmy @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @kpopfanfictionhoes

588 notes · View notes

yaimlight · 3 years

Text

Title: Twos Company, Threes a Crowd

Rating: 18+

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x reader / Todoroki Shoto x reader / Bakugou Katsuki x reader x Todoroki Shoto

Series: Twos Company, Threes a Crowd

Cross post on AO3. Find me under LokiLover89

Summary: All he had wanted was a hot shower, some food and to sink into bed with a warm body beside him. Turned out that Katsuki had a similar idea and they couldn’t both get what they wanted. So winner takes all, being able to decide how this evening played out for all of them and Shouto really couldn’t complain when he got exactly what he wanted in the end.

Grunting Shoto stumbled back as Katsuki slammed into him, his feet slipping on the work out mat from the force. He pushed back against the other man, shoving his shoulder into his chest, trying to find an opening. Katsuki growled, baring his teeth and shoving back not giving Shoto an inch. His shoulder aching he did the only thing he could in that moment, Moving quickly to the side and spinning away from the other man. Katsuki stumbled forward slightly at the sudden loss of the other body but quickly regained his footing. They circled around one another, breathing heavily and sweating just as much. Katsuki’s hands flexed, the way they often would before he went to use his explosive quirks but that was not allowed. They were in a small work out studio after all and despite how much easier things would be for Shoto to use his quirk, how much quicker this fight would be over if the both could, neither one of them wanted to deal with the hassle and repair bill they would get for destroying the room.

Movement out the corner of his eye caught Shoto’s attention and despite know he shouldn’t let his guard down like that he couldn’t help but look at the women who was the cause of this fight. She was sat atop a stack of mats against the wall, leaning back on her arms as she watched them intently. She was dressed in her own work out gear, the black of her sports bra and matching shorts pulled tight against her flawless skin and drawing his attention to everything it wasn’t covering. His eyes flicked up to her mouth as her plump lips parted as she sucked hungrily on the lollipop that she never seemed to be without. Noticing him watching her she wink, smirking around the sweet treat as she pulled it from between her lips with an obscene moan.

He felt a deep heat setting low in his stomach as his minds wondered back to that morning and the way he had been awoken. His moment of distraction had lasted a few seconds but it was the opening that Katsuki had needed.

Taking advantage of Shoto’s attention being else where he darted forward, swinging his fist. Shoto’s hand darted out at the last minute, only just catching the movement and shoving the man’s hand away enough to miss it connecting solidly with his face, but not enough to avoid it all together. Katsuki’s fist grazed his chin causing Shoto to stumble back slightly. He would have been fine, would have been able to find his footing and launch his own counter attack. He would have but Katsuki kicked his leg out, knocking Shoto’s feet out from beneath him.

He fell to the padded floor with a loud ouf, only just getting his arms under him to prevent his face from smacking against the floor. Groaning he went to push himself up only to find a heavy weight above him. Katsuki loomed over him, one leg shoved between his and pressing hard against his ass. One hand wrapped around Shoto’s wrist, tugging his arm back and twisting it behind his back, the other hand next to Shoto’s head supporting his weight. Katsuki pressed his front against his back as he leaned forward, his hot breath tickling across Shoto’s ear as he growled at him. “Stay down” and Shoto did. All the fight drained out of him as he let himself collapse completely against the floor. He was tired and everything ached. They had been at this over an hour now and Shoto had already been tired when they came in, his patrol having been full of petty criminals that had done nothing but resist, foolishly putting up a fight. All he had wanted was a hot shower, some food and to sink into bed with y/n beside him. Turned out that Katsuki had had a similar idea and they couldn’t both get what they wanted. So winner took all, being able to decide how this evening played out for all of them.

The sound of fabric rustling filled the small room followed by a dull thud as y/n slid of the mats, the sound echoing around the room. Grunting Shoto looked up, Katsuki shifting above him to do the same. They both watched as she walked towards them, wide smile tugging at her lips as she slip the lollipop between them. “Well, wasn’t that quite the display” she mocked them, knowing full well that it was all her fault having been the one to suggest a fight, even if it had been in jest. She should know by now that Katsuki always accepted a challenge to fight but that had probably been why she had suggested it in the first place.

Katsuki grunted above him as he let go of Shoto’s arm and pushed himself up. As soon as Katsuki’s weight was gone Shoto rolled onto his back, watching the two people move above him. “Told you I would beat him in hand to hand” Bakugou sounded so smug, wide smirk pulling the corner of his moth up and exposing his teeth. Shoto frowned. He had no right to be acting so smug it had still taken him over an hour to get Shoto onto the mat and he had made Katsuki work for it as well considering how heavy the other man was breathing and the sweat glistening on his skin. Grunting Shoto kicked out taking the other man by surprise as his foot connected with his calf and swept forward, knocking Bakugou to the floor with a loud thud and an accompanying grunt of pain. “Fucking asshole” he grumbled hand flying out to hit Shoto in the stomach causing him to let out his own pained moan.

Laughter rang loud and clear from above and Shoto tipped his head back to watch the only other person in the room. She radiated beauty, smiling gently down at then as they still continued to bicker even though the fight was over. Despite how sore he felt Shoto smiled back, her good mood infectious. “I don’t know about you two but I am in need of a shower” with that said she started to walk away from them heading towards the door. “You two coming or what?” She yelled over her shoulder as she pushed the doors open and disappeared through them. They bother led there for a heartbeat before they both groaned in unison, rolling over to push themselves up of the floor. They did both stink and hopefully the hot water would help ease Shoto’s aching joints.

~*~

The walk back to the apartment had been uneventful to say the least. The early evening sun shone down on them as they walked the still busy streets. Katsuki had his arm sling around y/n shoulders having already claimed his prize. Shoto walked to the side listening to the two of them chatter, shooting them sideward glances every now and then. He couldn’t deny how good they looked together, there looks complementing the other. They looked like they had stepped right off the pages of some glossy magazine, especially with the dimming sun glowing behind them. It had used to bother Shoto how good they had looked together and how strange and awkward he had looked in comparison but over the years he had come to terms that he was considered handsome as well. Maybe not in the conventional way but desired none the less and more importantly by the people whose opinion he valued most.

They had had to stop a few times on the way, fans noticing them despite their casual cloths but he supposed it was bound to happen with his and Bakugou’s distinctive hair styles and the fact that three of the top ten pro heroes were out together. By morning there photos would be plastered all over social media and trashy magazines, all of them with something to say about their strange relationship. Shoto had stopped caring what other people thought a long time ago but it still irritated him that these strangers thought they had a say in how they spent their free time and with who they did it with.

By the time they made it back to the apartment the sun had set and the moon was casting a gentle glow across the otherwise darkened rooms. Bags were dumped on the floor, shoes kicked off and coats hung up before they moved almost as one into the open plan living space. Y/n peeled off, heading towards the kitchen and straight to the fridge. “Beer?” She called over her shoulder as she bent forward to rummage around inside. Katsuki grunted his reply but Shoto stayed quite, his body tense as he waited to see what would come next. Y/n turned with 3 beers in hand and kicking the fridge door closed.

Shoto took the offered drink, smiling softly in thanks. He hadn’t intended to drink but now he had the alcohol in hand he was suddenly grateful for it, bringing the cool glass to his lips and gulping down a large mouthful of the drink, never taking his eyes off the couple in front of him.

Katsuki smiled as he took the offered bottle in one hand, the other snaking around her waist and pulling her tight against his front. She giggled sweetly at him pressing her free hand flat against his chest. Katsuki was grinning now, a hungry glint to his red eyes. In one quick move he ducked his head down to press his lips against hers, the hand at her waist slipping down her leg to her knee, hosting her leg up to his side. She wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning into the kiss. Shoto could practically see the moment when Katsuki shoved his tongue into her mouth, forcing her lips wide as he licked inside. The hand that had been holding her leg started to slide up her thigh, pushing the hem of her sun dress up and exposing her soft skin to his grouping hands and Shoto’s hungry eyes.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it started, y/n groaning as he pulled away, letting her leg go so she could stand once again. Grabbing her chin between his finger and thumb Katsuki tipped her head back so they could look one another in the eye. “Shower. Now. And be quick about it” Katsuki’s voice was firm as he made his demand, leaving no room for disagreement. Huffing y/n rolled her eyes but went all the same, sipping from her own bottle as she did so. The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing was loud in the otherwise quiet room and it wasn’t long before the faint sound of water running could be heard throughout the apartment.

Shoto and Katsuki stayed unmoving at either end of the couch, watching the other. Huffing Katsuki brought his drink to his lips drinking deeply from the bottle. Shoto could practically feel the other man’s eyes as they raked over him, probably already noticing his half hard dick as it started to tent the front of his jeans. He couldn’t help it though. He had thought for a minute that Katsuki was going to fuck her there and then in the living room, his heart racing at the thought of just having to stand there and watch.

Grunting Katsuki jerked his head to the side “come on” his voice low and growling as he demanded Shoto followed him. And like the good little dog he was Shoto followed him into his bedroom, quickly gulping down the last of his beer as he went. He had no idea what to expect once inside the spacious room but he knew he would need the drink to relax even just a little.

Once inside Bakugou went straight over to the chair in the corner and sank down into it, flicking the small lamp on as he went. Shoto was left to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room wondering what he was supposed be doing now. Katsuki sat back in the chair, back straight but his legs spread wide, pulling the fabric of his trousers tight across his staring erection. Shoto couldn’t help but stare, the man oozing confidence and control. He had won the fight after all and tonight was his to control. They were his to control.

“Take it off” Katsuki demanded before taking another drink for him bottle. Sharp red eyes watched intently as Shoto sighed, moving to place his empty bottle on the bed side table before turning back towards the other man. He made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He was determined not to give the blond a show. He would be quick and methodical, just like he was on his own. It wasn’t because he was shy or embarrassed, he knew he looked good with defined muscles but they just weren’t as obvious as Bakugou’s. No he wasn’t shy or embarrassed he just never saw the point in dragging something like this out. Plus he didn’t want to give Katsuki the satisfactions performing for him.

Sure hands went to his trousers next, unbuttoning them quickly before sliding his hands into the waistband of his underwear, intent on getting them both off in one go, no point in wasting time. “Leave the underwear on” Katsuki’s gruff command had Shoto’s head jerking up from where he had bent over to push the garments down. He was still sat in the chair, head turned towards the door and sipping on his beer, the image of nonchalant but his eyes were trained on Shoto, watching every move. When Shoto didn’t move Katsuki raised one blond eyebrow at him, almost daring Shoto to define him. Huffing in annoyance he slipped his hands out of his pants and shoved his trousers down, yanking them and his socks off at the same time and kicking them out of his way.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Shoto stood with his back straight and head held high, glaring at the blond. He may have agreed to let Bakugou decide how things would go this night but it didn’t mean he was going to make things easy for the man. Plus Katsuki was annoyingly hot when he got angry.

Narrowing his eyes Katsuki jerked his head towards the bed. “Sit” his voice was low but had an edge to it that sent a shiver down Shoto’s spine. Huffing Shoto turned to crawl into the bed, shoving the pillows up against the head board and making himself comfortable. The room fell silent once again the muffled sound of water running filling the space. Shoto couldn’t help but squirm under Katsuki’s unwavering gaze, Katsuki smirking at his obvious discomfort.

The minuets seemed to drag by as Shoto shifted once again, moving his legs so they were stretched out in front of him. It seemed he wasn’t the only one getting impatient though, Katsuki starting to drum his fingers along the wooden arm rest. Knowing y/n she was probably doing it on purpose, trying to wind Katsuki up. Shoto could see it working, the blond clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes at the doorway. He knocked back the last of his beer, slamming the bottle down on top of the set of draws next to him. Both hands curled around the ends of the arm rest, getting ready to push himself up and probably go drag her out of the shower regardless of if she was ready or not. But just as he went to lift himself up the shower stopped, the apartment falling into silence.

Grunting Katsuki let himself fall back down into the chair, lounging back and spreading his legs once more. Shoto heard the door down the hall opening and his heart rate picked up already anticipating what he would have to sit through tonight, unable to do anything but watch.

“Sorry it took so long, there was a stubborn dirt spot that just wouldn’t budge” y/n playful voice floated into the room before she turned into the doorway, stopping to lean against the frame. Shoto’s mouth watered at the sight. The white towel she had wrapped around her left very little to the imagination, the cloth only just covering her. The top of her breasts peaked out for the top, water droplets sliding down into the deep valley between them. The bottom of the towel fell to mid-thigh but the sides hung open slightly, exposing more of her perfectly soft skin.

Shoto’s hands itched to touch, wanting nothing more in that moment then to leap of the bed and pull the cloth away from her, exposing all of her to his hungry mouth and searching hands. But he had been told to sit and until told otherwise he would have to stay where he was.

“Come here” Katsuki grunted and y/n pushed away from the door, bringing a hand up to push her suspiciously dry hair back. She didn’t even look at Shoto, not once, her bright eyes and little smirk trained on Bakugou. It made him feel small, insignificant, nothing more than a perverted voyeur. Embarrassment swelled inside of him, after all these years still unable to shake the shame he felt at enjoying watching the other two get lost in one another. Bakugou knew this, knew what Shoto liked and knew that it would get him riled up. Probably was why he was keeping Shoto away, Katsuki never missing an opportunity to get under his skin.

A loud groan pulled Shoto’s attention back to the couple in front of him. She now stood between Katsuki’s legs, his large hands sliding up her legs and pushing the edge of towel up, exposing the curve of her arse. Giving her plump cheeks a quick squeeze Katsuki brought his hands up to tug at the towel, pulling it lose and letting it fall to the floor, exposing her to both of their hungry eyes.

His hands grabbed her hips, finger tips brushing over the swell of her ass as he leaned forward, his eyes connecting with Shoto’s as he sucked a pert nibble into his mouth. Shoto sucked in a breath as she groaned, head tipping back and lips opened in pleasure. They were stood in a way that Shoto could see everything. Every swipe of tongue, every nip and suck. Katsuki worshipped her breasts, laying a mix of gentle and biting kisses across the sensitive flesh causing her to moan and gasp. One of her hands had come up to Katsuki’s hair, threading her fingers through his spiked hair and tugging gently every time he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Shoto’s dick twitched impatiently in the confides of his underwear, remembering the very similar trail his own lips had taken that morning, the phantom brush of lips against skin making him gasp, his tongue darting out between parted lips in a pale imitation of what Katsuki was currently doing, his crimson eyes boring into Shoto with a knowing glint. One last time Katsuki flicked he tongue across her hardened bud before pulling away, smirking triumphantly as she let out an annoyed groan.

“On your knees” he grunted, leaning back in the chair and letting go of her hips. Instantly she dropped to the floor, her knees hitting the carpet with a soft thud. In moments like this she became so responsive, so obedient and Katsuki knew how to play her, had almost made an art out of getting her to sing for him and Shoto got to reveal in the outcome.

Wordlessly he lifted his hips, just enough so she could yank his sweats and underwear down, his large dick springing free and slapping against his stomach. The head was angry and red looking, glistening with precum. So Shoto wasn’t the only one affected by this little game.

Once his trousers had been chucked to the side y/n slid her hands up the inside of Bakugou’s legs, searching out her prize but he soon put a stop to that. “No hands” he growled, glaring down at her. The command wasn’t directed at him but Shoto still snapped his hands back to his sides, unaware that they had been reaching out to rub at his own staring dick.

In front of him y/n let out an amused huff, dragging her hands back down his thighs, blunt nails scratching as they went causing Katsuki to hiss at the gentle sting of pain. Shifting closer and making herself more comfortable she brought her hands behind her, wrapping her fingers around her ankles. She never broke eye contact with Katsuki as she leaned forward slightly, opening her mouth wide in invitation.

Katsuki smirked, a menacing glint in his eyes as he looked over to Shoto, winking at him as he grabbed a fistful of hair and shoved her face down, his dick sliding between her parted lips until he completely invaded in her heat. All three of them moaned at the action and for the first time since this had started she looked at Shoto. His breath stuttered, trapped in her gaze as Katsuki used the hand in her hair to yank her had back and then shove it down again. It was a brutal and fast pace. Tears leaked from her eyes and slid down her cheeks as Katsuki fucked himself down her throat. Still she watched Shoto through unfocused eyes, moaning wantonly around the hard member stretching her mouth wide.

Shoto wished to be in Katsuki’s place, to feel that tight wet heat around him as she sucked and slurped, dragging his pleasure out of him with a flick of her sinful tongue. Neither he nor Katsuki would be considered small but she had never had a problem accommodating them, her lack of a gag reflex helping to spur their pleasure on. He wanted that feeling of bliss, to be able to rub at her throat and feel himself pressing against her. To be the reason her eyes welled up as he choked her on his release.

As if he could reed Shoto’s thoughts Katsuki wound his other hand into her hair and forced her head down as his hips surged up, shoving himself as far down her throat as he could. He held her there, both of them watching as her tears feel quicker, checks turning red as she struggled to breathe through her nose. Her eyes rolled back, eyelashes fluttering and hands flexing on her ankles and Shoto could tell she was reaching her limit. Sensing the same Katsuki slowly pulled her off him, groaning as he did so. As soon as he was out of her mouth she collapsed forward, gasping for air. Her head rested against Katsuki’s thigh, his once tight grip now lose as he stroked over her hair, letting her adjust. It was a tenner moment and Shoto couldn’t help but feel he was intruding.

The moment was broken though as Katsuki let out a surprised groan, fingers tightening in her hair once again. She was smirking as she sucked at the spit slicked head of Katsuki’s cock. Grunting Bakugou tightened his grip on her hair and yanked it back, forcing her eyes to meet his, glaring down at her. “Such a hungry little cock slut” his voice was deep and rumbling, the filthy words dripping from his tongue like silk. Letting go of her hair Katsuki wrapped a large hand around her arm, pulling her to her feet as he to stood up. Katsuki crashed his lips down on hers dragging a startled moan for her.

Shoto shifted, uncrossing his legs and regretting it instantly as it pulled his pants tight over his swollen member. A wet spot had appeared on the front as he leaked precum. He wanted to touch, not caring who just wanting to feel something beneath his hands. Her breasts, Katsuki’s mussels or his own dick, just as long as he could get his hands on something.

So lost in his thoughts Shoto barely noticed Katsuki half shoving, half throwing her into the bed. Quickly he spread his legs as she hit the bed, bouncing slightly at the force, the top of her head just a few inches from Shoto’s groin. Growling Shoto looked up, ready to rip into Katsuki about how badly that little stunt could have gone but what was before him had his voice abandoning him, mouth closing with an audible click.

Some when in the last few moments Katsuki had rid himself of his top and had descended onto the women below, crashing their lips together in yet another heated kiss as his hand began to wonder. Despite how long the three of them had been doing this Shoto had never seen Katsuki completely naked. He had seen the other man topless with his trousers hung low on his hips. Had seen him with his trousers shucked off, his ass and hard prick on display or even with his trousers shoved down under his ass and top pushed up enough to expose his abs but never had he seen Bakugou without any clothing. Shoto had been missing out, his rather limited imagination not being able to comprehend how the two separate images would merge together to make one extremely ripped and incredibly hot Bakugou Katsuki.

A low moan filled the room and Shoto looked down at the couple between his legs. Katsuki had abandoned her lips, now kissing and nipping his way down her body. He sucked one nipple into his mouth pinched and rubbed the other between callus fingers. Shoto shuffled back slightly, sitting up straighter so he could get a better look at what was happening before him. If all he could do was look tonight he would make sure he remembered everything he could for when he got himself off latter.

His hands grasped at the sheets next to him, trying to prevent himself from leaning forward and joining in. Growling Katsuki continued to kiss down her body, sliding of the bed to kneel on the floor, red eyes searching his out. Shoto felt trapped in his gaze, unable to look away as Katsuki lifted her legs onto his shoulders, pulling her closer to him. The smirk he shot Shoto was nothing less than smug and menacing, sending the duel quirk user a quick wink before he ducked down, head disappearing between spread thighs.

Shoto knew the moment Katsuki started to work her other his fingers and mouth. Her back arched of the bed, gasping as her head tipped back, her hands coming up to grab onto Katsuki’s hair. Her delicate fingers only just brushing the tips of his hair before his hand shot up and knocked hers away, his mouth not stopping his assault. Shoto expected her to try again, she loved to get her hands on their hair and would often tug or pet it when she was in the throes of passion. He knew Katsuki loved it as much as he did, the dull scratch of her nails across his scalp, the gentle tug as she cried out for more.

Instead she lifted her arms above her head, splaying her hands over Shoto’s thighs. He couldn’t help but moan, his hips stuttering up at the first contact he had received all evening. He wanted nothing more than to feel her hands slid upwards, to have them working against his hardness but they never did. Instead her hands clenched down, nails digging in slightly whenever Katsuki hit a good spot. She wasn’t being quite now, gasping and moaning Katsuki’s name, crying out for more, trying to grind down on Katsuki’s face and finger. Shoto couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous that all her attention was focused on the other man, that Katsuki was the one drawing such sounds out her and not him. Shoto loved the taste of her on his lips, could and had spent hours between her legs drawing those noises from her, moaning alongside her as her realise flooded his mouth. He licked at his lips, hungry for a taste.

With a loud cry she arched of the bed once more, nails sinking into the muscles on Shoto’s thighs and heels digging into Katsuki’s back, her whole body going taught as she came. As suddenly as her release had struck, she relaxed, body falling back to the bed and her fingers realising his thigh. He would have bruises come the morning he was sure of it, dark spots of pain that his suit would rub against every time he moved.

She groaned as Katsuki pulled away, her legs slipping off his shoulders as he went. He was smirking again, flashing his white teeth as he began to crawl up the bed. Shoto licked at his lips as he took in Katsuki’s wide eyes and rose tinted cheeks. His Lips were red and glistening as was his chin, the bottom half of his face covered with her juices.

Once he was hovering over her, her legs spread wide to accommodate him Katsuki looked him straight in the eyes. Shoto hadn’t even realized he had been leaning forward until that moment, there faces a lot closer than they should have been. Slowly Katsuki lifted his hand, the whole thing glistening in the light. Shoto opened his mouth slightly, tongue just poked out as he expected the other man to shove his fingers in Shoto’s waiting mouth. He had to wonder how many fingers Katsuki had had inside her and how much she had gotten off on what just happened for his hand to be so drenched.

Katsuki’s smirk turned menacing as he reached past Shoto’s waiting lips and gently slapped his hand against his cheek, dragging is hand down and across his lips, smearing her come over Shoto’s face. Shoto’s eyes widened in surprise as Katsuki moved back turning his attention back to the women below him, ducking down to claim her mouth in a brushing kiss, forcing her to taste herself. She didn’t seem to care that much if the filthy moan she let out was anything to go by, wrapping her arms around his neck and across his shoulders as she kissed him back.

Shoto licked at his lips, the faint taste he had been craving enough to have him moaning. Katsuki was a fucking tease, only letting Shoto have a hint of what he desired. This whole night was nothing but a tease, Katsuki taunting him with what he couldn’t have tonight and it was getting to Shoto. He hadn’t been this hard in ages, his dick throbbing and borderline painful. At this rate he would probably cum just from the brush of a fingers and it would still be one of the best organism of his life.

Slumping back against the headboard Shoto ran a shaking hand through his hair, pushing the long strands away from his face as he watched them making out. One of Katsuki’s hands slid down her side to grab at her knee, yanking it up against his side and shifting so he can support his weight on the other arm he had braced against the bed. He pulled away from the kiss, eyes shifting once again to Shoto as he leaned in to whisper something into her ear. Shoto couldn’t hear what was said but from the small moan and the nod of her head he could only assume Katsuki had gotten her permission to do something. He should probably be nervous but as lost in the moment as he was Shoto didn’t care.

Katsuki’s smile was almost predatory as he shifted once more, hiking her leg up higher against his side and his eyes going back to the women beneath him. “Fuck!” Katsuki shouted entering her in one quick thrust, causing him to cry out as well. They stayed still for just a moment, heads pressed together as they painted into the others mouth. Once Katsuki had regained his composure he rolled his hips just once before he started to pick up the pace, thrusting into her hard and fast. Her hands scrabbles at his back, nails digging in and wailing her pleasure. Shoto couldn’t believe that they were going at it between his spread legs, acting as if he want even there. Every thrust caused the bed to groan and the headboard to thump gently against the wall.

Shoto could see the red marks scratched across Katsuki’s back, could feel the other man’s growl vibrating through his body. Her head was nudging at Shoto’s thigh, her whole body being pushed ever so slightly up the bed with every thrust. Shoto let his hand move, his resolve finally snapping as he ran one hand through her hair and the other sliding gently across her shoulder and collar bone. The low warning growl that came from Katsuki had Shoto’s hand stilling, his eyes flicking up from the gasping women below him to the angry looking man in front of him.

Katsuki had stopped moving, all his attention now on Shoto. “Off” instantly Shoto let go, hands snapping back to his sides at the command. His dick twitched at the authority that one word had carried, loving how Katsuki took control. He didn’t do it often with Shoto but when he did it go him going in seconds. A small whine had both of them looking down at y/n as she squirmed, growing impatient at the look of movement. “Katsuki please” she gasped, try to hook the leg he was holding over his hips and pull him back down.

Katsuki laughed, dropping his head down to nudge at her nose with him. “Well who am I to refuse such a pretty girl” Katsuki breathed against her lips before quickly kissing her.

Shoto expected him to go straight back to trying to fuck the life out of her but instead he pulled back out of her grasp, letting her leg go to fall back to the bed. His large hands wrapped around her hips and in one quick move he had flipped her onto her stomach. “On your knees” he commanded, his hand connecting with her ass with a loud slap as she failed to move as quickly as he wanted. Gasping she jerked up the bed at the sudden contact and Shoto moaned, her hot breath fanning out across his sensitive dick. The change of position had her head tight above his trapped member, their eyes meeting as she licked at her lips.

Katsuki’s laughter had Shoto looking up at him once again, eyes wide in confusion. Katsuki shuffled forward, slapping her ass again as he positioned himself behind her. His hands grabbed her hips once more and he thrust back into her in one swift move. She cried out, her mouth hanging open as Katsuki picked up the same bruising pace as before.

Shoto’s head fell back against the headboard, fist clenching in the bed sheets as he tried not the thrust forward. Her mouth was so close and he could feel every gasp and cry, her hot breath making him twitch every time. This was a new level of torture and Shoto didn’t know how long he would last, convinced that he would be able to cum just from this, without having actually been touched. Katsuki would never let him live it down if he did.

Shoto didn’t know how long this went on but it seemed like hours though in reality it was probably only minuets but suddenly the damp heat on his dick was gone. He opened his eyes, not even realising he had closed them, to find that Katsuki had moved them yet again. He was kneeling on the bed, her back pulled flat against his chest, exposing her to Shoto completely. He could see where Katsuki was buried deep inside her, her juices dripping down his shaft. Her chest was heaving as she gasped for breath, one of Katsuki’s hand spread across her throat and jaw, the other grasping her hip tightly. Using his grip on her to keep them steady Katsuki started to move again, shallow thrusts that had her hands scrambling for his thighs and crying out his name. He smirked at Shoto over her should, his teeth dragging across her skin.

Both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat and flushed red. Shoto could see the muscles in her stomach and leg tightening, signalling that she was close. Katsuki must have noticed that as well as the hand that had been holding her hip slid forward, his fingers sliding between her wet folds. Instead of moving his fingers though Katsuki kept them still, winking at Shoto as he looked at him in confusion.

Everything seemed to happen at once. She cried out, loud and sharp, her body going ridged as she climaxed again, small sparks jumping from Katsuki’s fingers as he used his quirk, letting of small explosions against the sensitive nub. Katsuki followed close behind, his movement stilling and sinking his teeth into her flesh where her neck joined her shoulder. She cried out again, leaning back again Katsuki and tipped her head to the side, giving him more room.

Shoto watched, breathing heavily as Katsuki moved his mouth away, laying gentle kisses against the abused flesh. The bite mark was angry, red and deep. It would be there for days afterwards, a constant reminder of who she belonged to, that she wouldn’t be able to hide beneath their hero costume. Shoto wanted so much to slot his own mouth over the same place and bite down, their bite marks overlapping. Everyone would see it and know what they had been doing and she would wear them with pride, just like she always did with any mark they left on her.

They both groaned as Katsuki pulled out, both his hands gently holding her hips as he moved back. Shoto watched transfixed between her legs, watching as Katsuki’s softening dick slipped free. It was only then did Shoto realise that Katsuki hadn’t worn any protection, both of their juices mixing together and dripping out of her into the bed. Shoto groaned, imagining how that would feel around his own dick, all that extra slick as he fucked up into her. It would be messy but Shoto knew it would feel amazing.

Katsuki let go of her hips, moving off the bed as she slumped forward, her hands landing on either side of Shoto’s hips, stopping herself from falling on top of him completely. “Don’t move, I ain’t finished with you two yet” Katsuki yelled over his shoulder as moved across the room and disappeared through the door, not even waiting for an answer.

The room feel into silence, neither of them moving. She was breathing steadily now, her head resting against the inside of Shoto’s thigh, the little puffs of air tickling slightly. “You ah, you okay” he managed to grit out, his throat dry and scratching. “I’m good” she mumbled, lips brush against his skin and causing his dick to twitch. She was so close and he desperately wanted his own release. Groaning gently she turned her head towards him, the side of her face pressed against his cool leg, her eyes meeting his. “Just sore is all” she smiled up at him and Shoto couldn’t help but smile back at her, bring his hand up to run through her hair, covering it with a thin layer of ice to help cool her down. She hummed in appreciation, her eyes flutter closed. “Ummm. I can imagine, but you seemed to enjoy it” he tugged gently at her hair, raising an eyebrow at her as she smirked up at him, eyes opening just enough to see him. “So did you” she teased back and Shoto hummed his agreement. He had enjoyed it, watching Bakugou break her down into a trembling mess. When this had all started he had been so sure Katsuki would leave him in the corner, making him watch and leaving him unsatisfied and in all fairness there was still time for the other man to do so after all Shoto had not yet been granted his own release.

“Felt so good Sho” she mumbled and Shoto instantly stiffened. She took his silence as permission to carry on. “He’s so big Shoto and felt so good inside me, stretching me open” Shoto groaned, head tipping back against the headboard. The filth dripping from her tongue reigniting the flames of desire that started to dwindle. “It felt even better knowing your eyes were on me. Watching Katsuki fuck me. And when he used his quirk, ummm, felt almost as good as when you use yours” as she had been speaking she shifted her head, Shoto’s hand slipping from her hair to cup the side of her face. She turned her head to the side, placing a gentle kiss to his palm, shifting her weight onto her hands, she kneeled half over him. She kept her eyes locked on his as she spoke once more, Shoto breathing heavier as her words sank into him.

“Love it when you use your quirk, burning so cold inside me. Always leaves me begging for more” as if it was answering her his quirk rippled to life on its own, his hand covering with ice. Groaning she turned her head into his hand more, her hot tongue licking across Shoto’s palm and up his fingers. Shoto let out his own groan as she sucked his ice covers fingers into her mouth, tongue curling around the digits. He could feel the ice melting as she licked and sucked at him, moaning around him. “Fuck” Shoto gasped, his hips bucking up as if her mouth was wrapped around it.

“You two better not be” Katsuki barked as he strode back into the room. Instantly y/n pulled back, letting Shoto’s fingers fall from between her lips. Groaning in annoyance Shoto slumber back, hand falling back to bed as he glared at Katsuki. The smug basted just smiled wider, laughing at Shoto’s annoyance. He chucked something onto the bed as he climbed back onto the bed, slotting between her legs once more and draping himself across her back. He placed one hand flat against the bed, his fingers covering hers and brushing slightly against Shoto’s side. The other wrapped around her shoulder to grasp her chin, turning her face towards him so he could kiss her, his tongue slipping between her lips. They separated fairly quickly, Katsuki liking at his lips. “Umm cold, someone’s been naughty” he mumbled nipping at her lip before pulling away slightly so he could whisper into her ear.

Shoto couldn’t make out what he was saying, just the gentle murmur of his voice. Her eyes widened slightly, eyes flickering down to Shoto’s dick then back to his eyes before she nodded her head. Katsuki placed a quick kiss on her check mumbling “good girl” before pulling away to sit back on his hunches. Shoto’s heart was pounding in his chest as she shifter her weight back onto her legs, delicate hands coming up to tug at the edges of his pants. Wordlessly Shoto lifted his hips so she could pull them down, his hard dick springing free and slapping him in the stomach. He tried to help as much as he could, pulling one leg up so they could be tugged off his foot and he could then kick it off his other foot. They settled back into the same position they had been in before, her hands either side of him on the bed, mouth hovering above his now exposed dick and his legs spread wide to accommodate her body between them. She smirked up at him, her pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. She winked at him then dove down, swallowing his length in one go.

Shoto cried out, back arching off the bed as she sucked him down. He couldn’t stop his hands from moving if he tried, one shooting up to grab at the hair on the back of her head and the other fisting in the sheets. She set a fast pace, sucking and licking at him, her head bobbed up and down. “Fuck” Shoto cried out, blunt nails scratching at her scalp. It was so hot and wet inside her mouth, her tongue rubbing along the underside as she pulled up. She stilled when only the head was still inside the warm heat, to warm. Groaning Shoto opened his eyes to look down at her, his chest heaving as he pulled in deep breaths. Once she had his attention she began to slowly sink back down, not stopping until her nose was pushed into his groin and his dick was hitting the back of his throat.

His hands were trembling, overcome with pleasure as she swallowed, her throat tightening around his shaft for a moment but it was enough to have him gasping out her name. In return she moaned around him, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch. Tears clung to the edges of her wide eyes as she breathed through her nose. Shoto wasn’t as big as Katsuki but he was well endowed none the less, his dick long and slightly curved, his size placed well above the average man and he knew that she must be struggling by now but he still found it hot to watch her struggle to breath around him, knowing she was willingly doing it just have him in her mouth.

Taking pity on her he gently tugged on her hair and she eased herself back, pulling in a deep breath before she took him straight back into his mouth. This time she worked him slower, sucking gently and licking from root to tip in an effort to draw his pleasure out. He grunted and panted, as the temperature in her mouth seemed to fluctuate, one moment it would be warm and tight as she swallowed him down only to be cool and lose when she eased of. It was only when the ice cold tip of her tongue rub against his slit that Shoto realised what was happening.

He gripped her hair tightly and he arched his hips up, forcing her to take more of him as she used his own quirk against him. He had experimented before when he was a teenager, curious to know how each of them had felt on his dick but never had he felt anything like this before. She had used his quirk before but only when they had been sparring, now he would never be able to look at her again without remembering this moment.

He let go of her hair suddenly, both his hands coming up to rub at his face and slid into his own hair. As she pulled back her mouth warmed, dragging a deep moan from between Shoto’s parted lips. His dick slipped from her mouth and he could have sworn she saw a glint of ice across her tongue before her mouth slammed shut, teeth digging into her bottom lips, eyes fluttering as she moaned and pushed her hips back.

It took Shoto’s lust fogged mind a second to remember that Katsuki was still their but as soon as he did his eyes darted down to where a tuff of ash blond hair poked up from between her legs. Shoto could only assume that he had his fingers and mouth back on her if the way she was fucking herself back was any indication, her mouth hanging open as she gasped. Without a second thought Shoto grabbed the back of her head once more and forced her head down, his sensitive prick catching slight on her teeth as he thrust back into her mouth. He wanted to feel her gasps and groans around him, wanted to muffle the sounds she made for Katsuki as he strove towards his own release.

She didn’t disappoint, enthusiastically bobbing her head up and down as she moaned around him, the temperature of her mouth fluxing randomly. He couldn’t decide where to look, his eyes darting from where he kept disappearing between her stretched lips and to the tuff of hair she kept fucking back against. For a second Shoto imagined what it would be like if Katsuki was in the same position before, hand grasping her hips as he fucked into her, every one of his forward thrusts forcing her forward and down on to Shoto’s dick. Crying out his hips stuttered forward, his organs so close but it was not meant to be.

Katsuki knocked his hand away from her head, his own grabbing a fist full and yanking her head off and away from Shoto. The other man cried out in frustration. He was so close just a few more minutes and he would finally been able to cum. He glared at the blond who was once again draped over her back, one hand cupping the side of her face and two fingers shoved into her mouth, forcing it open. He could see her tongue rubbing over them, probably licking her own juices off of them. Briefly Shoto hoped that her mouth was still cold enough to make Katsuki feel some discomfort but he knew she had probably warmed it the moment Shoto had been forced out of her mouth.

“Not yet candy cane, I have other plans for you” Katsuki winked at him, his deep voice causing Shoto to shiver. Other plans had so many possibilities attached to it, so many things that Katsuki could do to him, with him but at least now he knew he would be able to cum tonight. Eventually.

In one move Katsuki let go of her and wrapped his other hand around Shoto’s ankle, yanking him down the bed, until he was almost completely under the two. He was sure he must look like a deer in headlights, eyes wide in shock at the sudden action. He couldn’t see Katsuki now but damn well heard his chuckle. What he could see though was a long expanse of neck and an almost perfect circle of little indents. It was so close to his mouth. All he had to do was rise his head a little and he would be able to get his mouth over it. Be able to suck and kiss the mark before adding his own. He was just about to move when he heard the distinctive slap of flesh hitting flesh and she began to move above him.

She nudged at his legs, settling over him, his dick brushing against her wet core. Both of her hands were next to his head, her checks flushed red as she ground down on him. Instinctively his hands went to her hips, letting out his own groan as he caught on her most sensitive part and she slowly started to sink down onto him. His grip tightened, his nails digging in and adding to the bruises that were already there. Once she was sat snugly against him Shoto let out the breath he had been holding, cool breath fanning out across her cheek. She hummed gently, her head falling to snuggle into his neck, arms shifting so they slipped under his, her hands curling around his shoulders.

They stayed that way for a few moments, Shoto taking advantage of the reprieve. He need this to calm himself back down, so overwhelmed by the wet heat that he had been sure that if she had moved he would have cum on the spot. Sighing he turned his head into her neck, nuzzling against it and laying gentle kisses. She hummed her approval, placing her own gentle kiss against his shoulder.

“Aww ain’t you two just adorable” Katsuki’s mocking tone cut through the silence, following it up with a hard slap to her ass that had her moaning and jerking against Shoto. “You got room for one more baby?” Katsuki asked gently. Shoto was just about able to see him over the swell of y/n ass, see his hands rubbing small circles into it, thumbs pulling slightly at the cheeks. She hummed slightly against Shoto but nodded all the same. “Gonna have to use your words sweetheart” he punctuated his words with a quick slap to her ass, before gently rubbing over the abused flesh. She gasped loudly, nails digging into Shoto’s shoulder. “Yes!” She cries out before burying her head back into the crock of Shoto’s neck.

Shoto glared at Katsuki, confused as to what was about to happen. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting what Shoto thought he was. They wouldn’t both fit, would undoubtedly hurt her if he attempted to do so. Katsuki slapped her ass again as he moved forward, thumbs pulling her cheeks apart. She cried out against Shoto, hands gripping tight. Katsuki groaned, head tipping back as his hands tightened in her hips, keeping her still as he pushed forward. It was only as the space he was in started to get tight did Shoto realise what Katsuki was actually doing.

Shoto groaned as her pussy got tighter the deeper Katsuki got in her ass. Both of their hands were gripping her hips, fingers overlapping as they held her still. Eventually Katsuki stilled, all three of them breathing heavily. “Fuck your tight” Katsuki groaned and Shoto had to agree. He had never felt so snug and he could feel Katsuki pressing down on him.

It was all so filthy yet Shoto wanted more, wanted to feel her move against him whilst Katsuki fucked her back down against him. So into his own fantasy Shoto didn’t even realise he had bucked his hips up until the two people above both cried out, Katsuki’s hands grasping tightly at his. Shoto stilled, mumbling a gentle sorry against the neck pressed to his lips.

“Seems someone’s getting impatient” he could hear the smirk in Katsuki’s voice, knew the blond was probably looking down at them with a stupid smug smile on his face but Shoto didn’t care. Didn’t care if he was moaning like a whore and his face was flush. He was balancing on a knives edge and just need someone to move already. “Think we should put him out of his misery?” Shoto was the one to answer Katsuki, moaning out a desperate please before he could stop himself. Everything seemed to still, Shoto holding his breath as what he had just done registered.

Never had Shoto asked something from Katsuki, had never caved to beg the smug man for anything regardless of the situation. Yet here he was, about an hour in to what admittedly was turning out to be the best sex of his life begging the other man for his own release. He didn’t need Katsuki’s permission, could just hold on tight and start fucking up into the pliant body above him but he didn’t. Instead he found himself craving the other man’s commands, his deep voice telling him he could have his moment of bliss. Oh gods he would never live this down.

A gentle huff of laughter brushed against his neck. Slowly she pushed herself up so she was hovering above him. She was smiling down at him, her eyes dark. She looked like a predator about to devour its next meal. “Love it when you beg for it” she was so close that as she spoke her lips brushed against his, her tongue darting out to run across his lips.

Shoto lifted his head to seal their lips together but she moved out of his reach, still smiling down at him. “Say it again” the demand was clear and Shoto found himself begging once more, the desperate please tumbling from his lips. Groaning she dived for his lips, swallowing any more of his cries as she forced her tongue between his. At the same time she rolled her hips, both men groaning at the sensation.

They broke apart, Shoto panting for air, his hands shaking once more. “Fuck me” she demanded, rolling her hips once more. Shoto didn’t know who she had spoken the words to but they forced them into action. It was a little awkward at first but they soon found a rhythm. Every time she rolled her hips up Katsuki would pull back only to push back in and force her tight pussy back down Shoto’s length. All of them were panting and moaning, the odd curse word thrown in as she clenched down on them.

Shoto could feel his release building inside of him once more, his stomach knotting and filling with heat. “I...I’m close” he managed to get out following it with a groan as she sunk back down on him, her inner walls clenching tight around him. “Then cum” came Katsuki’s reply, his voice strained as he started to thrust harder. Shoto’s hands slipped from her hips to grasp at the top of her thighs, his fingers brushing against the swell of her ass and Katsuki’s thighs hitting against his hands.

It was all so overwhelming and Shoto couldn’t hold on any more. With a loud cry his eyes closed, his body going taught and nails digging in as his release finally washed over him. His hips jerking up as he emptied himself into the women above him. When he came down his whole body was tingling and his ears were ringing, his heart slamming against his chest. They were still moving above him, chasing their own orgasm now. His softening dick still inside her but she had stopped moving now, letting Katsuki take over and fuck into her as hard and fast as he wanted. Moving his hand from her ass he slid it round until he could press his cold fingers against her burning clit.

As soon as he touched her she cried out his name, her body shaking against him. Her head tipped forward just enough for him to kiss her neck, teeth nipping at the unmarked flesh she had offered him. Using the other arm to push himself up slightly, Shoto nipped at her ear before he whisper his own command to her. “Come for us”. She cried out throwing her head back and exposing her neck to him and Shoto latched on, sinking his teeth in deep as he worked his fingers harder against her. He knew the exact moment she climaxed. He could feel her squeezing down on his soft dick, her body tensing. “Fuck!” Katsuki cried out, stilling as he found his own release.

Slowly Shoto opened his mouth, mind full of the hiss she let out as he brushed gentle kisses along his own claim of ownership. Katsuki was the first to move, groaning as he pulled out before shuffling off the edge of the bed. As soon as he was gone she lifted her hips up, letting Shoto slip from within and collapsing to the side. She was breathing deeply, one arm slung over her eyes as she tried to relax. She was covers in bite marks and scratches, her hips and thighs littered with bruises and little crescent marks, a mix of his and Katsuki’s cum leaking out onto the inside of her thighs. She looked a mess, completely used and spent and she was beautiful.

“Fuck, you look wrecked” Shoto hadn’t even noticed Katsuki had left the room, startled to find him handing a damp cloth to him as he gently began to clean the compliant women sprawled across half the bed. Shoto took it with a mumbled thanks, making quick work for cleaning himself off. He hissed as he rubbed at his sensitive dick but his discomfort was nothing compared to what y/n was feeling. She would feel tonight for at least the next day or two. Their patrols would be interesting tomorrow because she wouldn’t be able to hide the matching bite marks on either side of her neck or the hitch in her step.

Shoto smiled as he dropped his own cloth onto the floor, making sure it landed on his abandoned pile of cloths. He moved to the side opening up space on the bed as he tried to get comfortable. As soon as he settled she was on him, snuggling up to his side. “You could at least have got under the covers” Katsuki chided as made his way over to the bed, the spare comforter bundled in his arms. Y/n mumbled something but it was too garbled to make out as she already started to fall asleep.

Katsuki threw the thick blanket over them before sliding in behind the already sleeping women. He turned on his side, slotting himself against her back and draped his arm over her side, his fingers brushing against Shoto’s stomach. Tonight had been filled with a lot of first, none of them bad but this was probably his favourite. Sighing he turned towards the other two slightly, his own arm coming up to drape over her side, his arm pressing against Katsuki’s.

He could get used to this. The three of them sleeping together, limbs overlapping and tangled together. Maybe in the morning he would suggest she move in and this become there normal everyday life. Shoto would be happy to live like that. Happy with the two people he loved most.

#bnha fanfiction #bakugou x todoroki #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #Todoroki Shoto x reader x Bakugou Katsuki #my hero academia #benga #mha #ao3 fanfic

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tarklesbehindthescenes · 3 years

Note

Ok so a request maybe??

Cliffjumper, Bumblebee and Bluestreak as bffs at a TF sized amusement park?

I should NOT have this much power over robots, but I do and I’m in love with this idea and we’re getting some goofy stuff in. Here we go!

Word count capping at 1,441

Bumblebee grinned excitedly up at the large gate ahead of him, Cliffjumper, and Bluestreak. The three of them had been given permission to take a small vacation and Bluestreak had posed the idea that they should go and do something together. It took Cliffjumper a bit of convincing, but he eventually agreed to the prospect and the three of them began planning. Japan looked the most promising to visit, the main reason being a new transformer-sized theme park had been erected out of admiration for the robots. They had been extended an invitation, anyway, so why not take the offer?

“There it is, guys,” he exclaimed, pointing to the colorful signage stationed in front of the large plot of land with ride after ride scattered hither and thither.

Cliffjumper raised his optic ridges at the sight as Bluestreak whistled his amazement beside him. “So we’re really going to do this, huh?” the red minibot asked, peering up at the size of some of the coasters.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, Cliffjumper,” Bluestreak teased, giving his shoulder a poke.

“I’m not afraid!” Cliffjumper barked back. “I just don’t think it’s going to be all that great.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bumblebee assured, “it’ll be great. Once our equilibrium sensors are switched off, you’ll see what the humans find so fun about these places.”

Bluestreak fixed him with a surprised look. “Oh, those need to be off? How are we going to walk around from ride to ride if we can’t keep balance? I remember this one time when Smokescreen’s equilibrium sensors were shut off for a bit. He couldn’t walk three paces without falling over.”

“It’s not like we can’t keep upright without them,” Bee pointed out.

“But they make it so much easier. And mine’s under my hood, so I can’t get to it.”

“All you have to do is pop your hood and lean down for us, Bluestreak,” Cliffjumper countered while folding his arms. “It’s not like this is a big deal. Since it’s easier for me and Bee to reach ours, we can just switch them on and off, leave yours off, and guide you around.”

“Problem solved!” Bumblebee stated with a smile.

The Datson hummed thoughtfully before giving them a nod. “Alright, but only after we’re inside. It would be embarrassing out here. What with all these tourists with cameras.” He threw the humans walking along the city streets nearby a glance. There was a fair crowd that had developed, all staring at them with expressions that varied from excitement to awe. Bluestreak found he couldn’t help smiling at them and waving. “Prowl always says it’s important to keep a good image.”

“There’s going to be people inside the park, too, though,” the yellow minibot said, making Bluestreak hum a small whine.

“Fine, fine… Just don’t tell Prowl.”

Cliffjumper smirked. “No promises.”

His brother elbowed him in the chestpiece. “Our lips are sealed, Bluestreak. Come on.”

The three proceeded to enter the park, Bluestreak and Bee throwing a little more attention to the tourists as they passed while Cliff blatantly ignored them. As expected, while this theme park was suited to be better equipped for transformer participation, there were still humans milling about the place. It was actually quite impressive. Food and game stands stood throughout to keep the humans entertained and full. Statues of each Autobot had been placed strategically. Some of the bots were grouped in one statue, like the Datsons, and others stood by themselves, like some of the minibots and—to be expected—Optimus Prime. A check of the park map gave them a better idea of what lay where.

“There’s a recharge center and an Autobot museum, too?” Cliff exclaimed with disbelief.

“Holy Heterodyne,” Bluestreak breathed. “This place is huge compared to normal human builds! And it seems like they really admire us, huh? This is so cool!”

“Oh! Guys, get a load of this!” Bumblebee had wandered from the map to a plaque in front of Grapple’s statue not too far from them. “Grapple helped them make all this!”

“So thaaaat’s where he’s been off to on and off for the past year and a half!” Bluestreak prodded Cliffjumper’s shoulder again. “I told you he wasn’t doing anything fishy!”

“You can’t blame me for being skeptical!” Cliffjumper snapped. “He worked with the Constructicons before! Willingly, I’ll add!”

“Guys, can we not fight about this?” Bumblebee asked as he walked back over to them. “We’re here to enjoy a well-deserved vacation, not bicker about who-thought-what.”

Bluestreak was more than willing to comply. Cliffjumper huffed, but loosened up as they went further into the park. Unsure where to start, they wandered until they reached the first ride that called their attention. It was a simple low to ground rollercoaster. Low in comparison to the other rollercoasters, that was. They all agreed it was a good place to get their feet wet when it came to the theme park experience, so they went through the ‘line’. There were two separate tracks, and in turn two separate lines, to the ride. One made for the humans, and the other made for the transformers. Due to them being the only transformers in the park, there was a complete lack of line for them and so they were able to just walk right on up to the ride entrance.

As they had discussed, before getting on, the minibots had Bluestreak pop his hood and lean down so they could switch off his equilibrium sensors. Once taken care of, the two helped him on the ride and turned off their own sensors. Bumblebee squirmed excitedly in his seat and clutched the safety bar locked across their laps as they waited for the ride attendants to start their track up, while Cliff and Bluestreak let their gazes wander around the setup. After a minute, the safety spiel played over a set of loudspeakers, and then their train car jolted forward and they were moving, crawling toward the decent-sized incline more than a few feet from the seating platform.

Cliffjumper relaxed in his seat and put on an expression that stated he wasn’t expecting much out of this but was curious all the same. When they reached the incline and began getting pulled up, Bluestreak squeaked with mild surprise.

“Ooh! Whoa, this feels weird!” he chattered, looking at the view around them as they slowly ascended. “This is kind of steep, huh? Holy— Bee, Cliff, look at that one over there! It’s literally a straight climb up before it completely drops and goes all crazy! Who comes up with these designs?? Looks a little daunting! Let’s hit that one up after this one! Oh, this is actually kind of high, despite not being the tallest one, huh?”

The yellow minibot seated between Cliff and Bluestreak braced himself as they reached the top of the incline. “Here we go!” he called to them.

They tipped over the edge… and off they shot like a firework. Down, up, swerving around the other track the humans were using. Bumblebee was whooping and hollering with sheer glee the whole ride. The abrupt feeling of falling that Cliffjumper and Bluestreak experienced at the start caught them off guard and made them widen their optics as they shouted with surprise, the Datson with a little less dignity than the red minibot. After they recovered from the initial shock, however, they both found themselves thoroughly enjoying the experience much the same way that their little yellow friend was.

The ride was short, but that hardly mattered to them. They were giggling and laughing as the train car pulled back into the station and allowed them to vacate the ride. Dizzy from said ride, they stumbled and tripped over themselves as they exited the station.

“Primus, that was awesome!” Cliffjumper exclaimed loudly, switching his equilibrium sensors back on and helping Bumblebee do the same as the yellow Beetle was struggling to keep his hands steady. “And that’s the smaller one??”

“I told you!” Bee grinned broadly.

“Guys, guys, guys! We have to go hit up that one with the straight drop I saw!” Bluestreak declared.

Cliff wasted no time in grabbing Bluestreak’s hand and pulling him along, forcing Bee to quickly take the other hand and catch up. “Slag yeah we do! Try to keep up, Bluestreak!”

“Guys, you’re so small! I’m totally gonna fall over!” the Datson whined. “Can you please just turn my sensors back on? Come on, I’m dizzy! Ooh, there’s a stage where we can stop and pose for photos! Can we do that??”

The day carried on. A vacation to remember, for sure.

#Ahhh this was so much fun to write~#Hope this was what you were looking for!#Nothing like three boys having a blast #Transformers #Asks #requests #G1 #Bluestreak #Cliffjumper #Bumblebee #Babee #maccadam

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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years

Note

Hi hi !! Would it be okay if I request a certain poly pairing??? :) Could you perhaps write a cute scenario for IchiJyuKuu? (Ichiro x Jyushi x Kuko). Possibly one with taking Jyushi to a specific cafe, like a vkei themed cafe?? I really adore this idea !! but I understand if you don't want to write this!

this poly ship is adorable,, anon ily for requesting this ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Two steps ahead of the others, Jyushi was bouncing around the street on his tip-toes, “C’mon c’mon!”

Just half an hour before, Ichiro and Kuko had surprised Jyushi with a reservation at a local café, which was currently having a visual kei themed event. At first Jyushi was left speechless, as he’d seen that it was fully booked so then being told that they had a table to the three (four including Amanda) of them, Jyushi could hardly wait before tripping over his own feet to get ready.

“Uwaaaa!” Jyushi squeezed Amanda a little as they stopped to look at the café front, “It’s amazing!!!” he bounced around on the spot, unable to contain his excitement, “thank you!!”

Ichiro and Kuko looked at each other while Jyushi admired the goods in the window, with a silent acknowledgement to each other that the idea was a total hit. Jyushi’s enthusiasm was infectious, and so Kuko and Ichiro were getting impatient to go inside the café, to see how Jyushi would react, if nothing else.

“Heh, Jyushi!” Kuko called out, crossing his arms in pride.

“Yes yes yes!” He responded with pure happiness in every word, bouncing up to Kuko and holding one hand in his, “What is it?”

Ichiro was doing his best to not squee at how cute Jyushi was acting, “We haven’t even gone inside yet, y’know.”

“A-ah… oh! You’re right! Ehe!” He skipped to face Ichiro, kissing the top of his nose as a little ‘thank you’.

“Oi,” The two tall boys looked down to see their small boyfriend, “What ‘bout me?”

“O-oh!” Jyushi leaned down to kiss Kuko’s forehead with an exaggerated ‘mwah!’ and sprung back to address the both of them, “Uwa… I can’t both of you enough… you two are so good to me…”

Kuko smiled as he was kissed and admired Jyushi’s excitement, “S’nothing. You deserve it!”

“Mm! He’s right,” Ichiro agreed, “Go on then. We made a reservation so just go inside,” He gestured towards the door, putting his hands in his pockets so he would resist the urge to go up to Jyushi and smush his cheeks for being so darn cute.

“Hey,” Kuko nudged Jyushi towards the door with a hand to his lower back, “Cuties first.”

“Ku-kuko! That’s…” Jyushi did his best to collect himself, taking a second to switch to his visual kei persona, placing one hand over his mouth to assume a mysterious expression, “Very well, let us commence our…” but his voice faltered with the last word, “…date,” He spun on his heels to face the entrance, not only to look cool but also so his boyfriends wouldn’t see his red cheeks. One shaky hand pushed open the door, quickly moving to arrange his hair to cover his blush. Usually he’d make some kind of grand announcement to his boyfriends, but his mind was taken up by ‘oh my goodness oh my goodness this is the best surprise ever I’m so happy I never want to leave them and they took me to a visual kei café just for me and I don’t know if I could ever repay them for it and oh wow they really do care about my interests I…’

“ –shi? Jyushi?”

Ichiro’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts and when he came to they were already sitting at their table, tucked away in a cosy corner of the café. Still holding onto Amanda, Jyushi quietly squealed in delight with a “hehe!” and took in the surroundings. Each wall was adorned with posters from visual kei groups from all across the country, and he sincerely hoped that one day ArgoξOrchestra would become so well-known that they would undoubtedly appear in events such as this. There was shelf behind the counter that caught his eye, with a whole collection of albums and photobooks, which only paled in comparison to Jyushi’s personal collection. He knew that as soon as he got home he’d want to root through it and admire all the photos and albums again and again; once he was in a mood like this there was nothing that could stop him. A delighted giggle escaped him, “Sit here, Amanda, and look at it all!” Amanda was then situated on the free space on the table next to Jyushi, “kya… just listen…” The music was quiet enough to keep a café appropriate atmosphere, but Jyushi’s keen ear picked out the current song immediately, “Uwa… ah! I know this group! I’d love to do a collab with them… their costumes are always so pretty…” He cupped his own face and rested his elbows on the table, utterly lost in the delight of being surrounded by everything he loves, “Ah… this is amazing.”

Kuko leaned over to whisper to Ichiro, “Told ya. Look at ‘im. Never seen him happier. Maybe except-”

“Shh!” Ichiro nudged Kuko off him, not wanting to miss a second of Jyushi-being-cute-time (even thought that was all of the time), “So, Jyushi, what d’ya want to order?”

“Oh, right!” Jyushi fumbled with the menu as his hands were still shaking a little, “Um… all of it looks good. Hm… I can’t eat all of this but…” He sat there for a minute contemplating each item on the menu, rattling off all of the references (which Kuko and Ichiro were genuinely paying attention to; they loved not much more than adorable Jyushi rambles) and eventually coming to the end of the list. But he hadn’t chosen anything, “Ah… I’m so-”

“Nope! Don’t be sorry!” Kuko interrupted with a cheeky grin, “We got it covered. Chose what all of us are havin’ if you want more than one thing, yeah? Can try a bunch that way,” Him and Ichiro came up with that idea when they made the reservation, knowing from experience that this would be a difficult decision for Jyushi, “So what’re we havin’?”

“Lookie!” Jyushi sat upright and put the menu flat on the table and started pointing at the items that caught his eye the most, “There’s this cake that…”

He went on to explain why he wanted to order the items, with reasons that featured his favourite songs and members the most. He didn’t know that the other two were taking furious mental notes. Throughout the rest of the date, Ichiro and Kuko sent more knowing looks to each other, already making more plans to take Jyushi out on days like this. It was more than worth the effort to see their adorable boyfriend this happy as much as possible. And Amanda, of course.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #Ichiro Yamada #jyushi aimono #kuko harai #buster bros #bad ass temple #request #ichikuujyu #this ask was too cute

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hecticcheer · 3 years

Text

This is ~2,000 words of fluff, inspired by late-night brain’s inadvertent mashup of this suggestion by boxofsfic with the ending of this story by sickiepop. (If either of you are seeing this post, hi! I love your work, and I hope you don’t mind what a monster I conceived while reading it…!)

The OCs I made up for the occasion are both around 30; the sick one’s a guy, and the other is nonbinary; they’re housemates; they might be in a QPR, but I don’t think they know that yet either.

I mmmmight write the sequel foreshadowed in the last few lines? Not sure yet; depends on whether I still like what I’ve written by tomorrow. But if you’re reading this and you’d dig that, please let me know!

—

Mr. Bartholomew Fox lay on his classroom’s hard, dusty floor, trying to remember how to pronounce respite. It had been a vocab word this week in some of his tenth graders’ books, but grading their worksheets had not required him to say the word aloud. He could remember that it wasn’t phonetic—it did not rhyme with despite, like its spelling suggested it should. But did one say the word as though it were spelled respeet? Reecepite? Resspit? The remembered voice of a friend from the days of his first smartphone reminded him, You have 3G; he fumbled for his phone, hoping the dictionary app would load this time deecepit the classroom’s shoddy cell service. When he lifted his phone, however, a text from Leverton distracted him.

You ok? At a meeting I forgot about or s/t?

Barty (he was Barty to friends, Mr. F among his less-creative students) hadn’t quite felt like himself all day, though he wasn’t sure what more than that to say about it. His joints and muscles ached, sure; his head throbbed for a bit after every movement, yeah; he’d been shaky and dizzy all day, true—but none of that was weird. He guessed these symptoms must be worse than usual, but no one of them seemed enough that way to justify what an unpleasant day he’d had. Or at least, none had done so until his final class ended, when struck the irresistible urge to lie down on the floor instead of heading home. On the floor, with nothing else to think about, they all seemed urgent. He felt so dizzy it made him hot all over, his upper lip prickling with sweat. If he moved in any way, and whenever he opened his eyes, the feeling grew worse. His left shoulder, right wrist, that mysterious place in his lower back, both knees, the muscles in his neck and thighs and forearms and halfway down his right calf—all traded off shouting for his attention. The throb behind his left eye grew sharper now, more electric, like the start of a migraine (but those usually came on earlier in the day). That side of his nose was clogged. Was he getting a cold? Not unlikely, this early in the school year. Or was it just allergy season.

He’d gone about this far in his musings and then apparently quit thinking at all until something (he could no longer remember what) had made him reach for his phone. Now, having read Leverton’s text, he laid the phone down on his chest and closed his eyes, trying to think how to reply. After he’d typed I’m okay, just and then lay still for a bit pondering how to make must’ve fallen asleep sound less dumb, another text arrived from Leverton:

Just send me an emoji or something so I know you’re not dead? You’re probably just at a meeting and I don’t want to bug you, but, starting to worry a little

I’m okay Barty sent back therefore, deleting the comma and the just. They’d both long-since turned off their phones’ “Read at 4:18 PM” feature—it made Leverton anxious, and incensed Barty on principle. Sending a quick reply took priority, therefore, over explaining himself. The little green progress bar hovered for eons about two thirds of its way across the screen, which it would never have dared at home unless he had tried to send multiple photos. Making sure not to touch the phone’s sides directly, even though he knew that made no difference on this non-dinosaur model, he wrote further, No meeting; fell asleep in classroom. Somehow that one went through at once—so quickly that he’d barely had time to close his eyes and set his head back down before it buzzed again.

Oh my god

Are you ok??? That sounds so unlike you

He didn’t know what to say. The first I’m okay hadn’t felt like a lie, since in that case it was clear he meant okay as opposed to dead. But now neither Yes or No seemed like the right answer. The long pause he elected to respond with instead probably treated Leverton worse than either one:

Are you still in your classroom? Stay there, I’ll come get you

I don’t knw [sic] if I’m comfortable w/ the thought of you driving like this.

On its face Barty found this absurd. Students fell asleep in his class nearly every time he turned on the projector, and that seemed a much greater feat than dozing off while lying alone on the floor. Besides, it hadn’t been real sleep—only stage one or two. If someone had asked whether he was awake he could have honestly said Yes, without startling first. Don’t, he began typing back, but once the initial guilt wore off he thought again about Leverton’s words (Stay there, I’ll come get you). The corners of his eyes grew hot when he pictured them setting out on foot to collect him. Leverton was right, after all—Barty never fell asleep during the day. He deleted the message he’d started and sent instead, Okay.

By the time he heard Leverton’s hand on the doorknob Barty had drifted back into early-stage sleep: close enough to the surface to recognize the sound, but far enough under that it surprised him a little. He’d forgot where he was, his thoughts (now vanished) so vivid they’d seemed realer than the floor under his back. He pulled himself up onto his elbows and his sight went dark blue from the corners inward.

“Hi,” he told Leverton as the latter entered—too quietly, as it turned out, for them to hear over the sound of the closing door. They peered around the room, but it took them a few seconds to spot him; he could tell they were looking for a seated person, rather than one on the floor. Barty cleared his throat and this time said, “Hello.”

“Oh my god—did you fall? Are you alright?”

“No, I’m fine,” Barty insisted, shaking his head, and then, smiling inanely, added, “I meant to do this.”

(Meant to do that was a long-standing meme of theirs, an offshoot from Leverton’s comparisons of Barty to a cat. After a cat does something stupid, it recovers its dignity so quickly you’d think it was trying to look like the stupid thing it did was all part of the plan. Thus whenever either of them made a mistake too large to ignore but too small for a real apology, they’d say to the other some variation on, Meant to do that.)

“You just thought the linoleum seemed like a nice change of pace from the nice couch we have at home,” summarized Leverton, and Barty noticed how they used the word nice twice in a row.

He lowered his head back to the floor, feeling too dizzy and neck-sore to waste his strength on trifles. “It’s vinyl; they just replaced it.”

“What?”

“The floor.”

“Ah. Vinyl. Excuse me.” They sat cross-legged down next to Barty, on the aforesaid vinyl.

“I’m alright,” Barty said again.

“Yeah, but that word doesn’t mean a lot coming from you. Excuse my cold hands,” Leverton warned, and placed the back of their hand to Barty’s forehead and each cheek in turn, brushing some hair out of the way first so it wouldn’t get in his eyes. Barty flinched slightly, having gone from unpleasantly hot to unpleasantly cold in the time since he’d first made contact with the floor. “Feels like you’ve got a fever. Do you think you might be coming down with something?”

“You just said your hands are cold, though,” pointed out Barty.

“Well, yeah,” Leverton conceded with a snarl of laughter—“‘cause compared to a face I figured they would be.”

“Thought you meant ‘cause you’d come from outside.”

“No; I wasn’t cold out there.”

This week had brought their town its first cold snap of the season, but in California an early-fall cold snap parses out to more like absence of heat wave. The last few days it had been cool enough to keep the AC off, but it was still t-shirt weather out from ten to ten. Leverton’s tie dye, sweatpants and flip-flops attested to this—as well as to how quickly they must have hurried to meet him. Though they worked from home, Leverton usually put on jeans to meet the public. And that tie-dye t-shirt, Barty knew, had a small hole in one armpit. It pleased him to remark that he could still keep track of details like this; too bad these examples of lucidity were invisible to Leverton.

“You look pretty sick,” said the latter. “How do you feel?”

Come to think of it, the word lucid itself could also mean translucent. That was about how he felt: diaphanous, vague, barely-there. His mother always said with it instead of lucid; though she’d never said so, he’d deduced the antonym of with it must be out of it.

“Not my best,” Barty admitted.

“But you didn’t faint, or hurt yourself, or anything.”

“No. Worried I might, but figured I’d preempt it.”

“Always thinking ahead,” scoffed Leverton, combing their hand through some more of Barty’s hair. “Your hair’s all sweaty; did you know that?”

“I did not.”

“You don’t usually sweat that bad just from feeling faint, I didn’t think.”

“You’re right.”

“So again I say, You look sick.”

“I’m probably getting sick.”

Leverton sighed through pursed lips, making them billow noisily. “Well, shit, pal, this is a terrible place to be sick.”

“Such language,” mumbled Barty, without conviction. He was so unused to letting swears pass without comment in this room that it would have taken more effort to say nothing. But Leverton, rightly, ignored this comment:

“Can you stand? Maybe I could get you some water—would that help?”

“Yes, and yes. On my desk,” Barty said, pointing without looking up.

“Uhhh… ah! I see it.” Leverton stood up and brought back Barty’s bottle of water. They sat again, uncapped it, and, once Barty had sat back up on his elbows, handed it to him and gripped his shoulder, presumably to help him keep his balance. Barty gulped down several mouthfuls, broke off to catch his breath, and shoved the cold-sweaty bottle back into Leverton’s hand, eager to lie back down. “Ah!—no—wrong way!” squawked Leverton. “Are you sure you can stand.”

“Just need a minute. Can you drag the desk chair over? Seems a pleasanter middle ground than.”

“Oh—good point. Sure.” They rolled it over, apologizing for the squeaky wheel. When he had more energy, among his friends Barty would sneer and hiss at such unpleasant sounds; the chair’s squeak hurt his head now too, of course, but somehow at the moment he found it easier to withstand unpleasant phenomena than resist them.

After a minute, he did indeed pull himself up and slither into the chair. (Leverton evidently knew better than to offer a hand to help him up; such offers would hurt his pride, and possibly also his shoulders.) His hands shook as he gripped the arms of the chair to haul himself up into it; his head spun; he was so weak the exertion hurt his chest and all four limbs. When he subsided to catch his breath his head throbbed raucously. He leant it into his hand—whose support Leverton then seconded with their own hand. Their touch chilled him at first, but he lacked the strength (whether of will or body who knew) to scoot away. He hadn’t realized how much the weight of his head had hurt his wrist until Leverton’s help removed that hurt.

“You’re really not feeling well, are you.”

“Seems that way.”

“Thank god I didn’t let you drive yourself home.”

“Too bad for the kids, they’re all gonna catch it,” Barty muttered, regretfully; “as will you, of course. And I won’t do nearly this good a job of looking after you.”

“I don’t mind. You’ll do your best.”

“Will I?”

“You always seem to. From my limited perspective.”

“I don’t have your patience. Or your empathy.”

Leverton scoffed: “Empathy? Yes you do! You feel other people’s feelings just as well as I do—you’re just shyer about it. You’re just emotionally constipated.”

“Perhaps,” granted Barty. He doubted that first half, but could already feel himself smiling at Leverton’s flatteries, and knew if he tried to argue that they would hold the smile against him as an admission. So he gave his doubts no more explicit form than, “Nice of you to say so.”

“Are you ready to try and walk to the car?”

Barty sighed, sort of phlegmily—almost a hiss. “Might as well be.”

#a shifty tract #(...first time i'm using the writing tag and it feels like a lie; no digestive ills here at all #(just vague fluey stuff and undiagnosed chronic illness. in my headcanon he has heds and pots 'cause that's what i have lmao #(but this premise Just Didn't Work on a character who understands his chronic symptoms' mechanisms as well as i know mine #(and barty--again like me--is the kind of guy who Learns Everything about any label he knows applies to him #(but who dislikes not knowing so much that if the problem has no name he'll pretend it doesn't matter for as long as possible #(sooooo no diagnosis for him. sorry pal)#permasickfic #(trying to avoid the chronic illness tag but figured i should tag for it in SOME capacity as i suspect it squicks some people)

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relaxedreptile · 4 years

Text

Habit

Pairing: Hyunjin X Female Reader

Sexual content: protected sex. Swearing. Mentions of cheating. Jealousy.

A/N: I tried to channel as much emotion into this as possible while struggling to still keep any sexiness! I hope you all enjoy this.

“Did you get home safe?”

It took him a few minutes to respond.

“Yeah, got a ride with Chan”

It took you a few minutes to figure out how to word your next text.

“I had at least three people send pictures of you and Jisoo”

You took a deep breath and watched as the three dots popped on and off your screen.

“Jesus Christ”

Not what you were expecting.

“We didn’t even fuck”

There it is.

You were giving yourself a moment to think before you typed back but Hyunjin must have spent too much time on “read” for his liking and opted for calling you.

“Are you really that mad?”

“What the fuck do you think Hyunjin?” You usually kept your cool for longer whenever this kind of thing happened, this must’ve been your tipping point.

“Come on! I told you nothing happened-”

“No, you just said you didn’t sleep with her and I know exactly what that means.”

Hyunjin was stunned, simply breathing into the microphone.

“I’m coming over.”

“No, not this time. I’m not letting you inside just so you can get in my pants.”

“…I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

“Hyunjin you’re drunk-”

“I’ll walk,” he cut you off, “just keep the door unlocked if you’re gonna be such an asshole.”

He hung up right as the words left his mouth and you were left with the silence of your bedroom.

Your feet hit the ground next to your bed and you searched frantically for a sweatshirt to throw on, hoping to look as unappealing as possible to make Hyunjin second guess any plan he had in place to win your favor.

No matter how desperate or anger either one of you were, you would never force the other to do anything but you were more worried about giving in to your own desires than something like peer pressure.

Hyunjin was probably the most beautiful boy in your city (you would argue for a wider sphere) and everyone knew it. Anyone who didn’t like boys watched, jealous out of their minds, as everyone who did like boys drooled over the perfection that was Hwang Hyunjin.

Both his hair and his body were always styled to perfection along with his proportions to match. One moment his eyes were practically ordering you to get on your knees and the next he flashed you a smile with his half-moon eyes and you were weak for a totally different reason.

This was precisely the reason why Hyunjin practically had girls hanging off his dick no matter where he went, regardless of him or the chick’s relationship status.

You never expected Jisoo to be his next prospect but you couldn’t blame him.

Catching sight of yourself in the mirror, you inspected your appearance. You turned side to side to get the full picture, scrutinizing your butt, your waist, your hair, anything of yours that didn’t look like Jisoo’s.

This happened every time, the comparisons. It usually didn’t last very long, even the few times that Hyunjin wasn’t able to come over and mumble countless comparisons of his own into your flushed skin, comparisons that always put you above the other girl.

While you would love some reassurance right now, you knew the comfort would fade and leave another hole in your heart that would be filled by Hyunjin whenever the next thing that wasn’t you piqued his interest.

Your socks glided across the floor as you sulked over to the front door, answering the call of three signature knocks.

You had to tilt your head up to stare into Hyunjin’s eyes. They looked clear enough, no red in sight, an uncommon sign of sobriety for him after a party.

“I didn’t have sex with her.”

He wasn’t even inside your house and was already starting something.

You stepped aside, signaling for him to come in to avoid your neighbors hearing anything. You didn’t want anyone knowing how much of a fucking loser Hyunjin made you out to be.

“Seriously, my dick’s been soft all night! You know I don’t get horny when I’m high.”

“You are something else, Hyunjin.” Disgust was evident in your face. “Cheating isn’t just sticking your dick in other people! Everything I saw in those damn photos counts and I have a right to be upset about-”

“How can it be cheating if we’re not dating, Y/N? I’m not your boyfriend and I never said you were my girlfriend.”

“Dating or not, if you didn’t feel guilty about all the shit that you did then you wouldn’t come over and apologize.”

He took a step closer. “Or maybe I just know you’ll spread your legs for me regardless.”

You took a step of your own and raised your eyebrows.

“You expect me to believe that you go through all this trouble just to fuck me? Even though you can obviously go to anyone else and get it there?”

“Maybe I like the chase,” he shrugged.

“Or you’re just an immature little boy who’s only capable of thinking with-”

“Stop acting like I’m some airhead! I know what I’m doing, okay?”

You had never heard him say something like that before.

“It sucks not being able to have the one girl that I want because she’s ‘too busy’ for a relationship or whatever the fuck your new excuse is. You treated what we had between us as some type of anomaly back in high school and managed to carry it with us into the real world too. You don’t come to my games, you won’t hold my hand in public, and you refuse to come to any parties with me.”

“We just like different things Hyunjin. You’re a dance major! The homework and projects you get are just an excuse for you to do the thing you love more than anything but I don’t get that luxury. I have essays, annoying partners, and hundreds of pages of readings a night; how am I supposed to make time to get high with you? Especially when I know what’s gonna happen if I leave you alone for more than a second.”

Hyunjin laughed, a quick burst of air from his lungs and a pump of his chest left you confused and a little bit annoyed.

“I thought you were smart, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t have sex with girls because they’re there, I do it because you’re not.”

Your brain shut down, your mouth stayed shut.

“Every time we fight, it ends with us spending the night together without fail. This is the only surefire way I can get you to admit to and show how you feel about me.”

Hyunjin started walking around your kitchen, pacing back and forth as his hand slid along the countertop to his left.

“You may think I use those girls to get off but I’m really just using them to get back at you. I want you to feel as pushed aside as I do.”

A tear splashed onto the countertop.

Hyunjin always cried first.

“Jinnie.”

Nothing. “Jinnie, please look at me.”

You wanted to keep some distance between the two of you but walked towards him anyway.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t know that was how you felt. I was convinced you didn’t care, that you were just doing all of this because you could.”

You knew that kind of accusation was going to make Hyunjin mad so you kept talking.

“But that was incredibly stupid of me! You’re my best friend, I know you better than that and I never should’ve let my jealousy alter how I felt about you.”

You took a deep breath.

“I love you so much, Jinnie, I was just too afraid to show it because I thought you never would. I didn’t want to be clingy and end up pushing you away because I know you could have anyone else in the fucking world if you wanted-”

“But I’ve never wanted someone else. Sure, sex is nice, but I only do it because these people that throw themselves at me want me in a way that you don’t.”

“That’s not true, I promise that’s not true. I want all of you Jinnie but I’m… I’m so scared that I don’t deserve it or that you’ll take it all away from me one day.”

Neither of you could get rid of the other’s insecurities no matter what you said or did. There were things that would never change, habits that could never be broken, but there were steps you both could take to offset any pain, to prevent any future problems.

You and Hyunjin were standing right in front of each other by this point, desperately clinging onto the love that you felt for one another and hoping it would be enough.

You rose up on your tip toes to wipe a tear off of Hyunjin’s cheek and he used this as an opportunity to grab your arm and pull you into him.

Now chest to chest, you could see all the details of Hyunjin’s face. It was no secret why everyone loved him, but you suppose it wasn’t the love that he wanted. It wasn’t the kind of love that you gave him.

“Can we show each other? Can we show each other how we really feel?”

Your answer was stolen by Hyunjin’s lips, chasing yours as hungrily as ever. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair and held him close to you as Hyunjin’s hands did the same as they gripped your hips.

You could feel Hyunjin’s nose pressing into your cheek and still it wasn’t good enough for either of you. He was kind of right unfortunately, thinking about Hyunjin with someone else always doubled the desire you had for him in the sense that you desperately needed to be that someone.

The honesty that had surfaced in your messy kitchen had developed such a strong sense of vulnerability in both of you and the need to be reassured and touched and loved was overwhelming.

Your fingers left Hyunjin’s air with a gentle tug that made him moan into your mouth and you willed your hands to stop shaking so you could unbutton Hyunjin’s shirt as fast as possible. Another pair of hands joined in from the bottom so that you could meet in the middle in record time.

You were allowed one moment to admire the smooth skin of Hyunjin’s toned chest before lips were dancing across your neck. Marks were to be expected and the harder Hyunjin sucked the deeper your nails sunk into the ridges of his stomach.

He came back up to kiss you again, softer than last time but this time he was using his tongue in a way that made your eyes roll back behind your eyelids.

One of your hands slid down his body, fingers resting on the waistband of his jeans before continuing a few inches lower to trace the outline of Hyunjin’s hard-on. You cupped him through the fabric and applied enough pressure to get his hips to jerk into your touch.

You might not have been as confident as Hyunjin was when it came to sex, but you knew what he liked and what to do to make him feel as good as you felt with him.

“Take your sweatshirt off,” Hyunjin forced out. He was so out of breath and still dived down for another kiss before beginning to work on getting his belt off.

“Why are you wearing so many layers?” You were still working on your tank top and bra while Hyunjin’s belt clattered against the floor.

“To try and control myself.”

Hyunjin reached around your back to unclasp your bra, “Am I that irresistible?”

His lips were already attached to your left nipple before you could tell him to shut his pretty mouth and he was sucking on the sensitive skin before you could even steady yourself with a breath of oxygen.

Hyunjin had always loved your boobs and touched them whenever he got the chance. Even when you were friends in high school, they were always the first part of your body he complimented when you asked for outfit advice. He picked the dresses that showed the most cleavage when he came along for prom dress shopping and surprised you with a necklace that sat right between your boobs when he asked you to be his date.

It was hard to ever feel insecure about them when they were covered in hickeys.

While he was working on marking the other side of your chest, you stretched your arms so that you could start unbuttoning his pants. He swatted your hand away and you whined, confused as to why he didn’t want to go farther.

“We’re not having sex on your kitchen floor and I can’t carry you to your room with my pants falling down.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Kitchen sex would be kinda hot though.”

Hyunjin pecked your lips. “Next time,” he promised.

You gave his hair a tug and his lips a kiss to seal the deal. You tried not to focus on the way Hyunjin’s fingers danced across your skin, closer and closer to where you needed him most with every eight-count.

He didn’t even bother teasing, his hand slipped right underneath the waistband of your sweats. The underwear you were wearing was barely a barrier because of how wet you were. Hyunjin’s skilled fingers knew exactly where to go first and you swore you could’ve cum with just one of his fingers pumping in and out of you, his palm applying the most delicious pressure against your clit at the same time.

You were practically clinging onto Hyunjin for dear life, your legs started shaking when he added a second finger and picked up speed. He probably could’ve supported you all on his own while still making you feel good but you didn’t wanna waste any more time on his fingers.

“Please,” you pleaded, “please fuck me.”

Hyunjin’s hand stalled before gradually slowing down. The other nudged you towards the closed door at the end of the hallway, forcing you to move while you were still practically getting finger-fucked.

He followed right behind as you stumbled to your bedroom, his knees just as wobbly as yours with anticipation. Hyunjin knew you were practically dripping underneath all those clothes which meant not being inside of you was a major inconvenience for him at the moment.

You and Hyunjin had walked down this hallway so many times together already. Sometimes while tearing clothes off the other, making out, or making the executive decision to just fuck right there against the wall. This time, it felt three times as long as any other night (or day) you two had spent together (with or without the prospect of sleeping together).

By the time you had finally made it to your bed, Hyunjin had already unzipped his jeans and was searching through your top drawer for a condom while you watched from on top of your bed.

Hwang Hyunjin truly was the definition of beautiful. Not pretty, not handsome, he had a universal beauty about him that combined masculinity and femininity into one. A sweet smile, striking eyes, and a jawline that could kill you. Toned muscles, dimples, and legs for days.

You knew his looks were a soft spot for him and this made you appreciate his sympathetic nature, sense of humor, and kind words more than his body. Your best friend was beautiful inside and out, something you made sure to remind him of.

When he finally got what he was looking for, he held it up with a proud smile on his face and dove down to kiss you.

You wasted no time in pulling him on top of you and nudging him in between your legs; the weight of his body on top of yours was the biggest relief to you in that moment.

“Can I take your sweats off, princess?”

You usually would’ve cringed at the pet name but it sounded so good coming from Hyunjin’s pretty lips.

He curled his fingers around your waistband after you nodded and tugged your pants down your legs at an agonizingly slow pace. The offensive fabric was tossed off the side of your bed and Hyunjin bent back down to kiss a trail up your thighs before getting rid of your underwear too.

You sat up to watch him pull his jeans off and actually whined when you saw the bulge in his black underwear. It wasn’t about your body needing his anymore, you were so desperate to have this boy in every sense of the word and he was taking so damn long.

“Why do you choose tonight to take your sweet time?” You tried to mask your neediness with a joke.

“Shouldn’t I be taking my time?” Hyunjin climbed back on top of you. “We have all night, Y/N.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re nice to look at, but I don’t wanna spend all night watching you roll a condom on.”

You were laughing at your own joke until Hyunjin raised his eyebrows and handed said-condom out to you, waiting for you to take it.

“You do it, then.”

You gulped, taking the shiny packet from him and sitting up. You were embarrassed to admit you had never put a condom on anyone before, Hyunjin always did it himself and it was a bit too intimate for you to want to do it for any of the rare one night stands you had encountered.

He helped you yank his briefs down and he groaned once his cock was finally free, resting on his smooth stomach.

You rose up on your knees as you pulled the plastic open. Hyunjin watched your face, smiling a bit at how concentrated you were.

“You’ve seen me do it a million times.”

“I’m usually too distracted to focus on your technique, Jinnie,” you replied as you placed the condom on the tip of his cock, holding it in place as you rolled the rest of it down his shaft.

“Good girl,” Hyunjin’s praise made your thighs clench.

“You like that? You like being called a good girl?”

You buried your head in the crook of his shoulder and whined, pleading for him to stop teasing you.

He giggled, the sweetest sound you had ever heard, and wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

You enjoyed the contact only for a moment before pulling back a bit to look at Hyunjin’s face. He brushed the hair out of your eyes and pecked your lips, making you smile and give him a deeper kiss in return.

You pressed your hips down into his, trying to relieve some of the pressure in your gut by grinding against the hardness between his legs. You tried to ignore how the slick from your pussy made it all the more easier (and messier), but this didn’t escape Hyunjin’s attention.

“You’re dripping down your thighs, baby.”

Hyunjin stared at the most beautiful cunt he had ever seen in his life and was left in awe of how much your body wanted him, he just needed the rest of you to confirm it.

“Are you ready, baby? Can I show you how much I love you?”

You kissed the tip of his nose. “Make me yours, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin held you in place with one of his arms while the other went between your legs, sliding his dick back in forth through your wetness to make the stretch easier. You locked eyes with each other as you sunk down on his length, throwing your head back once all of him was inside of you.

The hands on your hips helped guide you as you rocked back and forth on Hyunjin’s cock, crying out whenever his lower stomach rubbed against your clit in just the right way. Hyunjin’s eyes were glued to where you two were joined, amazed at how tightly your cunt was always wrapped around him. He seemed to disappear inside of you, your body trying to pull him back in every time you rocked forward enough for just his tip to be left inside of you.

The pace was slow, but just what you two needed for the time being. The ability to enjoy each other’s bodies was appreciated, but nothing compared to what being nose-to-nose did for the two of you. Every gasp of yours was stolen by Hyunjin’s lungs, every vibration from his throat swallowed by your chest.

You fought the urge to close your eyes and lose yourself in the moment, choosing instead to keep eye contact with the boy you loved. The pressure building in your lower stomach and blooming in your chest was overwhelming, only heightened by the intimacy the two of you were sharing in the moment.

Hyunjin pulled your body closer to his, leaning forward and repositioning the two of you so that he could hover above you while you laid on your back. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling Hyunjin closer as he rocked into you.

You new it was just your mind playing tricks on you, but you swore Hyunjin had never felt this deep inside of you. You’ve had your fair share of sex but nothing else compared to what you were feeling right now and you let Hyunjin know with every whimper and whine that left your lips.

Hyunjin was smirking into your shoulder, relishing in the sound of his skin slapping into yours with every thrust of his hips. Any moment spent outside of your warm cunt was a sin, he was thinking of slamming back into you the moment he pulled out.

Hyunjin’s pace quickened, now going impossibly fast. His cock was hitting that spot inside you with every thrust and you were being stretched in the most delicious way possible because of how thick he was. You couldn’t even breathe properly, electricity was being shot through your veins every time Hyunjin moved his hips and you thanked the gods for making your boy a dancer.

One of his arms left the space beside your head to go between your bodies, sliding against your clit effortlessly with every movement because of how wet you were.

“I love you… I love you so much,” you dug your nails in Hyunjin’s back to get the words out. “You make me feel so good,” you continued, “you always take care of me, you-”

A sob was torn from your throat as the knot in your stomach finally came undone, your body being reduced to a burst of light and what felt like endless waves of pleasure.

Your pussy tightened around Hyunjin’s dick, making him groan into your shoulder as his pace faltered.

“I’ve got you, baby, you did so well,” Hyunjin promised.

With a final snap of his hips, Hyunjin forced himself as deep as he could go inside of you, releasing into the condom. You ran your fingers through his hair as he leaned his head on your collarbone for support, his orgasm taking too much out of him for him to hold it up himself.

His pretty lips left open-mouth kisses on your chest, tracing the marks from earlier as he was too spent to leave any new ones.

Hyunjin was so fucking sweaty it was almost funny but in reality, the way his hair stuck to his forehead was kinda hot.

“You’re so sticky, Jinnie.”

He groaned in embarrassment, sliding his body against yours with the movement and further reinforcing your point.

“You love it,” he offered.

You giggled and nodded, smiling harder when Hyunjin nuzzled deeper into your chest.

“I love you too, by the way.”

You hummed in acknowledgment.

“Rest up, okay? Now that I’m your boyfriend, I’m taking you out for breakfast in the morning.”

“We’re gonna fall asleep like this?”

“I don’t plan on pulling out so…”

They say it takes two months to form a habit and one to break it. However, you and Hyunjin were years in the making and neither of you planned on spending any more time pushing the other away. Your deepest insecurities were out in the open and you both had silently pledged to help the other ween away from such thoughts.

Hyunjin had spent a lot of time and many nights between your legs in hopes of achieving what had finally transpired tonight.

While dreaming of sharing hot chocolate with the one he loved most, Hyunjin slept like a baby.

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #stray kids #skz #rr:hwang hyunjin

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