#somehow somewhere along the line i would also receive love. that i would actually be a part of this community. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badassbuchanan · 3 years

Text

No Goodbye (Part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: sadness and smut; I said it once and I’ll say it again, you will cry. Oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, soft!bucky, mentions of Steve.

Word Count: 8772

A/N: believe it or not I actually cut my original part 2 in half and it’s still this long lmao

also thank you so much for all your lovely comments about Part 1 - I hope you enjoy Part 2 just as much x

Y/N had a slight peace about her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t happiness, she wouldn’t go as far as to say that. But there was a minute pause in her grieving, and she knew it was due to her relationship with Bucky.

They had such a deep understanding, such a reliance on one another that had kept Y/N going through the most difficult time of her life. It was Y/N and Bucky versus the world, and she really felt she could do it with him by her side.

She’d finished a solo training session, finally trying to make a start on picking up the pieces of her life after Steve. All of her activities usually included a metal armed super soldier, but Bucky had told Y/N this morning that he was meeting up with an old friend. She didn’t think much of it, apart from a quick thought of confusion as to who this unknown old friend could be.

But she got her answer when she made her way through the kitchen of the compound, walking in on something she never expected to see. Her heart sunk into her chest, physically aching as she felt a hard wave of nausea and sadness hit her like a ton of bricks.

“I’m really glad you called.” Sharon Carter smiled up at Bucky from where they stood leaning against the counter, their chests inches apart as she moved her hand forward to rest on top of his.

Bucky smiled back at her, both of them unaware of Y/N’s presence. Her eyes blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling as her body went into panic, feeling like she was losing Bucky the same way she’d lost Steve. He was replacing her with Sharon.

Within moments, the progress it had taken Y/N over a year to make was washed away. She pressed her lips together in a hard line as she watched the scene in front of her, unable to control the unsteadiness of her breathing as wave after wave of emotion hit her. Betrayal, rejection, abandonment, heartbreak. It was all the same things she’d felt after Steve left. And she knew she wasn’t strong enough to go through it again.

The world spun around her, feeling like it was collapsing in on her. She was only stood there for a few minutes, but it felt like forever before she caught the attention of the two other people in the room. Y/N immediately shoved her head down and paced her way quickly through the kitchen.

“Y/N.” Sharon smiled sympathetically as she noticed the girl, it was the first time she’d seen her since Steve’s decision to leave. Bucky’s head lifted to watch Y/N as he stood up a little straighter, his heart immediately sinking with concern as he noticed her saddened face.

“Hey.” Y/N glanced quickly over at the pair, faking a smile as she focused on getting to the hallway on the other side. It hurt her so much to see Bucky close to Sharon, of all people. But if anything, she understood. Sharon was the typical “American sweetheart” type. She had the looks, the body, the personality, she had it all. She even had Steve, and now Bucky too.

“Y/N” Bucky’s voice dropped with sadness as he desperately wanted to run to her in that moment, to hold her and tell her everything was okay. Because that’s what he did, whenever she needed him, he was there.

“Please excuse me.” She whimpered weakly, her head dropping down again as she did her best to avoid Bucky. She did her best to hold back her emotions until she reached the exit to the hallway, unable to contain her tears any longer.

A loud sob escaped her lips as soon as she was out of the room, her hand smacking over her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her body trembled, almost collapsing against the wall with weakness as her eyes clouded with tears. She was losing Bucky.

She let her bedroom door close behind her, almost screaming in uncontrollable sadness as she felt her heart break. She crawled onto the bed, once again trying to make sense of what was happening to her. It didn’t take her long to find the common denominator in the problems, it was her. She wasn’t good enough, she was unlovable, Steve had realised it and now, so had Bucky. Her heart thudded against her chest, an overwhelming sense of aloneness washed over her heated body.

She sighed deeply, trying to steady her breathing as she laid on her side, curling her body up into a ball. She let out her tears now that she was alone, her hand clutching a fist into her pillow as her body ached in pain. Her cries came out as loud heaving breaths, her eyes squeezing shut so tightly that she started seeing black.

“Steve,” She whispered shakily as she sobbed, as if he would be able to hear her somehow. It was the second time she’d said his name since he’d left her, her bottom lip trembling as she succumbed to the sadness. “I just wish you were here.” She admitted as the mattress shook with her deep cries, the unbearable pain making it impossible for her to stop the tears from falling.

She sniffed between cries, her cheeks reddening from the salty streams of liquid running down her face. “I’m all alone again.” She whispered sadly, a pout on her lips as she furrowed her eyebrows in a frown of hurt.

Somewhere along the line Y/N had come to accept the fact that Bucky was everything she had now, that it was just going to be the two of them forever because no one else could ever understand them like they did each other. She liked the idea of it just being the two of them, it made her feel safe. But then again, she believed that Steve would be with her forever once upon a time.

Her heart ached as she realised that one day he would leave her, just like Steve did. That he would move on with his life and she would be left to go on without him. That one day Bucky would find himself a girl that wasn’t her, someone like Sharon, or even Peggy. Someone pretty and strong and worthy of their love. And that terrified her, being left alone again, this time without Bucky to help her through. She couldn't, she wouldn’t survive waking up one day and finding that he was gone.

Her survival instinct kicked in, coming to the conclusion that the only way to stop herself from getting hurt again was to block Bucky out. To push him away completely. She couldn’t let him in anymore than she already had, not when he was going to leave. She hated the fact that she’d opened up to him so much already, trusted him enough to think he’d stay with her forever.

The soft knock on her door brought her back from her thoughts, her eyes closing tightly as she pulled the pillow down to hug it against her chest, where Bucky would usually be.

“Go away.” She mumbled softly, hearing the door open with a squeak from behind her. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, she didn’t want to see anyone, she just wanted to be alone, like she would be for the rest of her life.

“Doll, it’s just me.” Bucky’s voice almost whispered as he arched his eyebrows sadly. Even though she was facing away from him he knew she’d been crying. His heart broke watching the way she was curled up so small on the bed, wishing he’d been there sooner to comfort her.

“I said go away.” She repeated with a little more sternness in her tone. She squeezed the pillow tightly, her heart hardening towards the super soldier as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. She didn’t want him near her, she didn’t want to get used to the feeling of him holding her. She didn’t want to be able to miss him. She didn’t want to feel anything anymore, it was easier that way.

“Hey, it’s okay to be sad. I still miss him too.” Bucky’s soft tone was slightly soothing to her, which only caused her to harden her heart even more. She heard him move closer to the bed, wanting to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay like he usually did. She tried to ignore him, a sudden wave of numbness evolved from her pain.

Bucky’s throat felt like it was closing up, his breathing shaky as his eyes welled up with tears. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want him here. She always wanted him here. He always wanted to be here.

Panic flooded through his body as his jaw clenched with sadness, looking towards the ceiling as he tried to reason why she was pushing him away. He stepped forward, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he desperately tried to get her to let him comfort her.

She flinched when she felt the bed dip with his weight behind her, letting out a shaky breath as she closed herself off to him. It hurt, but it wouldn’t hurt so much when he told her he was in love with Sharon, or when he left without saying goodbye.

“Y/N, c’mon.” He sniffed quietly, his eyes pleading as he tugged on her hip to get her to face him. He couldn’t make sense of the situation, tears streaming down his face as he tried to get her to come back to him. He couldn’t lose her, she was all he had. He didn’t know what to do, she’d given his life meaning in his darkest hours, she was his light, guiding him home. But the way she was pushing him away made him him feel lost in a sea of black.

Y/N sighed, full of numbness as she rolled over to face him. Her eyes slowly glanced up at his face, her teeth clenching together as she felt her heart ache, trying to ignore how sad and confused Bucky looked.

“Just go away, Bucky.” She mumbled emotionlessly, her eyes stinging from all the tears she’d cried as dropped them away to avoid his stare. She thought back to what she’d seen in the kitchen, a sharp pain tingling through her chest as she moved her hand down to push Bucky’s arm off of her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Please.” He whispered sadly, scared of how she was pushing him away. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She was everything to him. She’d never rejected him like this before, and Bucky was panicking, not knowing how to fix her pain. “I don’t want you being alone when you’re sad.”

His comment pushed her over the edge, her numbness replaced with anger as she shifted her eyes to look up at him. “Well I can’t rely on you forever, can I?” she snapped, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown as she watched Bucky’s face soften. He flinched at her words, his head dropping as he tried to hide his pain.

He stayed silent, unsure of what was going through her head. He thought if he didn’t speak, she’d let him at least stay near her. That way he could still make sure she was okay. He didn’t understand why she was pushing him away when she’d usually be so open.

“God, you’re not listening to me,” She sighed in frustration, her chest tightening as she felt another wave of pain washing over her. “I don’t want you here.” She growled through gritted teeth, her blood boiling as he refused to listen to her. She lifted herself up to sit on the bed as she shoved her hand against his body, pushing him away. “Go!” She yelled, full of pain as she shoved him again.

Bucky’s heart broke as he felt her weak hand pushing him away, his body moving as she continued to shove him. He heard the raw pain in her voice, his tears dropping down onto his shirt, as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to wake up from this nightmare.

“Y/N” He sobbed out her name, trying to bring his girl back to him. Her words pained him like a dagger through his heart, his chest heaving as he felt like he was losing the only person he had left in the world.

“Just leave me alone.” She whimpered out, her anger melting into sadness as she begged him to leave. She wanted more than anything to be held in his embrace, to feel his strong arms wrapped around her, but it would be a false sense of security that she had to protect herself from.

Bucky sighed sadly, blinking through his tears as he decided to obey her wish. He moved his flesh hand to wrap around hers that had been shoving him away, pulling her closer as he leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead.

Y/N melted into his touch for just a moment, both of them revealing in the calmness their closeness brought them before the memory of Sharon’s hand on his flooded through her brain. She immediately leaned away from him, tugging her hand out of his grip as she kept her eyes down, silently rolling over to face away from him as her head hit the pillow.

Bucky’s chest collapsed beneath his skin as he watched her shut him out, his eyebrows arching as he bit the inside of his lip. He felt so torn, wanting to give her what she wanted as well as holding her close and comforting her, something that always made both of them feel better.

“I’m just down the hall if you need me.” He whispered shakily, secretly hoping she would change her mind as he pushed himself up off the bed. He walked towards the door, hearing the gentle sobs of the girl behind him. His heart ached to be with her, but he forced himself out of the room to give her the space she wanted.

Bucky felt like he was losing her, pressing his back against the wall in the hallway next to her door as his head fell back. A sudden guilt washed over him as he panicked, had she found out the truth? Is that why she was pushing him away? No, it couldn’t be. The only person who knew that was him. Well, the only person here, anyway. His heart sunk as he heard her crying, his own tears flooding freely down his burning cheeks. He hoped that she’d come back to him soon, because he already felt so alone in a world so big.

Y/N cried harder once she heard the door close behind him, the emptiness of the room consumed her. As she laid there in the silence, all by herself, she got a glimpse of how lonely the rest of her life would be, and it only made her miss Steve more than she had done in a long time.

---

“What do I have to do?” Y/N asked nervously as she laid back on her bed just as Wanda had instructed her to. She looked over at the auburn haired witch from where she sat next to Y/N on the edge of the bed.

“Just relax,” Wanda whispered soothingly waving her hands around an invisible force as a crimson dust came to life. Her eyes glowed bright red as she stared intensely at the lying girl, slipping into her thoughts. “Let your heart speak for itself.”

Y/N breathed shakily, closing her eyes as she followed Wanda’s directions, the world around her swirling as the Scarlett Witch flicked her fingers towards Y/N, the red glow zooming through the air to delve into her mouth and nostrils.

Y/N gasped softly as she felt the supernatural force wash over her body, her heart racing as the magic flooded through her veins. She responsively opened her eyes, her pupils glowing red as Wanda smiled softly, knowing the spell had worked.

The room felt slightly different as Y/N sat up on the bed, noticing that Wanda was nowhere to be seen. Technically Wanda was still in the room, the spell just made Y/N unable to see her. Y/N scanned the silent room, everything was exactly as it should be, not a single detail out of place.

But the scent was different, it was familiar, but it was something Y/N hadn’t inhaled in a while. Before she had time to properly analyse the situation, the bedroom door opened and Y/N’s heart almost burst with emotion. Steve Rogers, dressed in a 40′s style army uniform, his hair neatly combed and his face freshly shaven, his blue eyes glowing in the light of the room.

“Steve.” She whispered as air got caught in her lungs, almost choking as she watched her boyfriend walk into the bedroom, a giant smile on his face. Time froze for Y/N as she looked him up and down in disbelief, watching him drop a duffle bag to the floor as he held his arms open.

“Miss me?” Hearing his voice for the first time in what seemed like forever made Y/N’s eyes well up with happy tears, letting out a shaky breath as she quickly climbed off of the bed. She raced towards him, almost jumping into his arms as she thudded her chest against his.

“Woah, there’s my best girl.” Steve chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he let his chin rest against her head. She closed her eyes, inhaling his scent as a flood of relief and happiness washed over her. “I got back as soon as I could.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” She sighed in contentment, hoping to stay in this moment with him forever. His hand rubbed up and down her back soothingly, his strong muscles caging her in as the rest of the world disappeared around her.

It felt as if Y/N blinked, finding them laying beside each other on the bed as she opened her eyes again. She didn't question it, breathing softly as she admired his gorgeous face. She let her fingers lift up to trace over Steve’s smiling face, the one she was more than familiar with. She frowned momentarily, slightly confused as to why she couldn’t feel him, even though she was touching him. He wasn’t warm under her fingertips, there was no life to his skin, as if she were touching an inanimate object.

“I missed you too.” He whispered reassuringly before she could properly question it, Steve gave her a soft smile as he pulled her closer against his chest. She watched him take her hand on his face into his, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles as his blue eyes stayed glued on hers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky’s angry voice made Y/N jump slightly, looking over Steve’s shoulder as Bucky stormed through her open bedroom door. “Get away from her, now!” He barked, his eyes fixed behind where Y/N lay.

“Bucky?” Y/N frowned in confusion, startled by his entrance as she sat up on the bed, his intrusion caused her mind to stop focusing on Steve. Wanda tilted her head curiously, ignoring Bucky’s yellimg as she focused on Y/N’s awareness of the metal armed soldier. Y/N could see him under the spell.

Y/N locked eyes with the furious super soldier, a flood of panic washing over his face as he looked at her glowing red eyes. The magical facade shattered as she followed her gaze to where he was previously looking, finding Wanda standing over by the window.

“Get out of her head right now or I swear to god-” Bucky spat in a seething rage, he knew exactly what Wanda had been doing when he heard Y/N say Steve’s name. He knew what she was capable of, how she’d coped with her own grief after Vision’s death. He also knew that she could see into people’s pasts. His protectiveness towards Y/N came across as possessiveness as his body went into panic about what Wanda might’ve uncovered inside the girl’s mind.

“You need to calm down Barnes!” Wanda snapped back at the metal armed man, causing his eyes to darken in fury. He had spent the past year and a half holding Y/N, soothing Y/N, comforting Y/N, reassuring Y/N. He couldn’t watch Wanda undo all of Y/N’s progress over a stupid magic experiment.

“Do you know what this is doing to her?” He yelled at the auburn haired woman as Y/N sat quietly on the bed, shocked at Bucky’s anger and saddened that Steve had disappeared with the magic. She hugged her knees to her chest, waves of uncontrollable sadness washing over her as she dropped her head into her lap, the loneliness was back. “Do you understand how harmful this could be to her processing her grieving?”

“Bucky, stop.” Y/N mumbled through trembling lips, she couldn’t take it anymore. The sorrow, the fighting, the heartache, the loneliness. She hated feeling like this, but more than that, she hated seeing him like this.

Wanda bit her tongue, her eyes narrowing at him as she realised he didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on. She crossed her arms, letting him carry on with his outburst. Anger boiled up inside of her, but she controlled it, noticing how upset Y/N had become.

“What if she decides she likes it a bit too much in that little dream world you created, huh?” Bucky continued, pacing up and down as Y/N sighed deeply, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as if that would make all of this somehow stop.

“She knows she can’t stay there fore-” Wanda tried to defend herself, her eyebrows raising as she rolled her eyes, not surprised that the hysterical former hydra assassin cut her off.

“What if she loses her grip on reality, Wanda?” He screamed, throwing his arms up in the air as he felt himself losing control of his anger. His eyes sent daggers at the Sokovian avenger, not noticing the effect his shouting was having on Y/N.

Y/N cried softly, she’d never seen him this worked up before, it was scaring her. She didn’t know what to do, her chest heaved as her body defaulted into a panic, watching Bucky’s blurry form through her tears. “Please, Bucky-”

“What if it sends her fucking insane?” Bucky felt his blood boiling as his metal arm whirred into action, swiping the potted plant from her desk in one swift motion, a loud crashing sound echoed through the room as it smashed onto the floor.

The sound made Y/N flinch, she wasn’t scared of Bucky, she never had been. She knew he would never hurt her. What scared her was how emotional he was, what kind of regretful things that emotion would make him do, like shout at Wanda.

“We’re all struggling to move on from Steve leaving, but dragging Y/N into some kind of fucked up dreamland-”

“Bucky, I asked her to do it!” Y/N finally broke, yelling at the super soldier through a desperate cry as she tilted her head to look up at him. The room immediately fell silent, Bucky’s eyes softening with pain as he looked over to where she was on the bed.

Her eyes were red and puffy, tears streaming down her face. Her lips pressed together in a pout, she looked so helpless, like a tiny animal caught in a trap.

His chest tightened in disbelief, his hands balling into fists as he stood there, unsure of what to do. His eyebrows arched, as if he were silently asking her if she was telling the truth. Bucky shook his head softly in disbelief, he wanted to go to her, but she’d pushed him away last time and he didn’t want it to happen again.

Wanda’s eyes flickered between the two, the tension in the air becoming unbearable as she watched them sympathetically. She felt as though she were intruding on a private moment, a sudden awkwardness filling her body as she started to make her way across the room. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” She spoke softly as she reached the door, closing it behind her as Bucky’s head turned towards where she’d left, checking to make sure they were alone.

Bucky sighed out sadly, a thousand thoughts running through his mind as his head dropped towards the floor. He pressed his hands into his hips, his eyebrows furrowing in sadness as he felt more tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“You didn’t have to go off at her like that.” Y/N mumbled in a soft voice followed by a sniff from where she sat, still hugging her knees to her chest. She wasn’t crying uncontrollably anymore, now just solemnly falling into a silent pit of sadness.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky apologised sincerely, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky breath. He knew he’d taken it too far, that he let things get out of hand. But losing Y/N was becoming more and more of a reality, one that he was scared of.

Y/N chanced a glance up at him again, seeing how broken he looked caused a sharp pain in her chest. Her eyebrows arched sadly, knowing too well how he was feeling. It had only been a night without him by her side, cuddling her and telling her everything was going to be okay. But it was the worst night of her life, she’d spent the sleepless hours wondering if it would’ve been easier to let him leave than to push him away.

“Why did you do it?” He whispered weakly, his bottom lip trembling as his tears trickled down his cheeks. He couldn’t understand why she would want to put herself through the heartache of being close to an illusion of Steve, knowing that he would be gone again in an instant.

Y/N dropped her head, embarrassment washing over her body as her knees dropped from her chest, shuffling to sit cross legged on her bed. She hoped that if she just avoided the question Bucky wouldn’t press her about it, but she was wrong.

“First you push me away and then you go and do this.” He sniffed sadly, swallowing the lump in his throat as he heard nothing but silence as a response. He breathed out shakily, closing his eyes as he tried to think of what he’d done for this to happen. “I’m scared, Y/N.” He admitted weakly, running a shaky hand through his hair.

“I pushed you away because I wouldn’t survive you breaking my heart,” She spoke as she breathed out deeply, she’d never planned to tell him any of this, she didn’t want him knowing how weak and needy she was. “I asked Wanda to do this so at least for a few moments,” The air got caught in her throat, it sounded even more pathetic now she was saying it out loud. “I could feel like someone truly loved me.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched so tight it almost snapped, his face screwing up in pain as his tears flooded his face. It hurt him, hearing her say that she needed magic to feel loved when he was standing right there. Bucky loved her. Maybe for longer than he’d like to admit, but there was no denying it, he was in love with Y/N.

“Doll, the last thing I would ever do is break your heart.” He whispered sadly, still confused as to what made her think he would ever hurt her. “What the hell gave you that idea?”

“Oh please, Bucky, don’t treat me like a fool.” She shook her head, letting out an ironic chuckle as she looked over at him sadly, a sigh leaving her slightly parted lips. “I saw you yesterday in the kitchen with Sharon, your old friend right? She seems to be a big hit with you super soldiers, must run in the family.”

Her indirect comment towards Peggy had Bucky’s heart thudding in all kinds of emotion. She’d known about Sharon kissing Steve. She still believed that Steve had left her to be with Peggy. Was Bucky happy about it? No, but he accepted it because that’s what Steve wanted. But Bucky didn’t want this, he didn’t want her feeling like she was unloveable. He didn’t want her feeling abandoned and not good enough. He didn’t want her to push him away because she thought he was going to run off with some blonde agent.

“Y/N.” Bucky sobbed out her name, choking on the saliva that slid down his windpipe as he tried to steady his breathing. He lifted his head to face the ceiling, trying to gain even the slightest bit of control over his emotions. “Doll, can you just let me explain. Please?”

“It’s okay, Bucky, you don’t owe me an explanation.” She smiled weakly, trying to reassure him, although she wasn’t convincing anyone. The sadness in her eyes was unmissable, the trembling of her bottom lip evident as she looked over at him. “Maybe Steve did the best thing by not saying goodbye.” She mumbled as her head dropped into her lap, she wasn’t ready for Bucky to break her heart and tell her he was in love with Sharon. “Because right now it seems a lot easier than having this conversation.”

“No,” Bucky frowned in a sternness that surprised them both as he dropped his head to face Y/N. “Y/N I’m not letting you sit there and push me away because you’re scared I’m gunna hurt you like Steve did.”

Y/N’s eyes widened with innocence as she felt the shift in Bucky’s emotion, her throat closing around the invisible lump that shallowed her breathing.

“Doll, what you saw yesterday, was me sorting out business. That’s all it was. Me and Sharon spent a couple of hours planning how to keep the legacy of Captain America alive, something I’d been avoiding her about for a year and a half, which is why she’d told me she was glad I called. It was a work meeting. But I started worrying about how the hell I was going to talk to you about it, scared that you’d hate my guts or despise me for moving on too fast. So Sharon tried to make me feel better, her hand on mine, that’s all that was, she was sympathetic to what a tough situation I was in. She was trying to convince me that we could take as much time as you needed to be okay with this. But then you walked in, and god the fucking sadness on your face, it killed me inside. You wouldn’t let me hold you, Y/N. You wouldn’t even let me near you and it broke me.” Bucky body flooded with emotion as he spoke his mind, terrified of losing her for good. He didn’t hold back, laying everything on the line as he fought to keep her.

Y/N breathed shakily as she listened to him speak, his vulnerability kept her focused on his words rather than her emotion. She felt silly for the way she’d jumped to her conclusion without stopping to talk to Bucky about what was going on, without telling him how she felt. Because he’d been there for her from the start, and she really had no reason to not trust him.

“I’m so sorry.” The guilt hit her like a ton of bricks, for putting him in a category and judging him without any evidence. “Bucky, I’m so sorry.” She cried, shaking her head softly in disbelief of how terribly she had treated him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Bucky’s eyes started to water, his heart sinking as he watched Y/N beat herself up inside. “It’s okay, Doll, you’re okay.” He sighed out, trying his best to console her from where he stood. “Just let me hold you.” He blubbered out as his crying took over, his lip trembling as his heart longed to be near her.

She nodded weakly, outstretching her arms towards him, gesturing for him to come to her. Y/N was just as desperate to feel Bucky holding her as he was to hold her. Bucky let out a shaky sigh of relief, moving to climb on the bed next to her, wrapping his strong arms around her in an instant as they laid down on the mattress.

Y/N curled into him, nudging her cheek against his stubble covered jaw as her arms wrapped around his neck. She closed her eyes, sighing in contentment, feeling the soothing warmth of his body against hers. It was like she was home.

Bucky’s flesh palm rubbed up and down her back gently, feeling at peace now that her chest was pressed against his. Their breathing rhythms matched as Y/N’s fingers slid down to trace patterns on his right pec absentmindedly.

Bucky leaned his head back just enough to admire her face, so puffy and flushed from all the crying. It was almost as if all of their pain stopped, like they weren’t able to feel anything other than each other. “I missed you last night.” She whispered softly as her fingers tickled their way down his torso.

The corners of Bucky’s mouth twitched in a soft smile, his eyes softening as he hugged her tighter. He loved the way her fingers slid over his body so lightly, knowing she was doing it to test his reaction. “I missed you too, doll.” He whispered back, feeling the way her small hand pushed under his t-shirt as he spoke.

Bucky’s abs tensed as her bare fingers danced over his burning flesh. He was sure she’d be able to hear the loud thudding of his heart as her palm came into contact with his skin. Y/N’s thumb rubbed delicately over the muscle of his bare pec, her eyes lighting up a little at the intimate nature of the touch.

Their new level of intimacy had Y/N slightly drunk on happiness, butterflies fluttering deep within her abdomen as she melted into Bucky’s arms. “Is it selfish of me to want to stay like this with you forever?” She whispered softly, her eyes flickering back and forth from his chest to meet his gaze.

Bucky felt his heart grow with a bursting delectation, her words floating through his ears like his favourite song. “No,” He smiled by pressing his lips together in a line as they locked eyes. Bucky’s metal hand moved up to cup her cheek, his prosthetic thumb gliding back and forth along her cheek bone. “Not when I want to stay like this with you forever too.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh of pleasure as she pressed her cheek further into Bucky’s touch. Her fingers traced over the section where his flesh fused with his metal shoulder, taking her time to feel every mark on his skin. Bucky’s heartbeat quickened as he noticed how unfazed she was by his biggest insecurity, gazing deeply into her eyes as her eyelids fluttered open.

Something in that moment connected them even deeper than before, even deeper than Steve’s absence had. They both leaned in, lost in the thick cloud of tension as they closed the gap between them, their lips touching for the very first time.

It was soft, sweet and short. Y/N licked her lips nervously as she looked deeply into Bucky’s crystal blue eyes, a sudden anxiety of being rejected by him flooded over her.

Bucky breathed out shakily as his lips curled into a smile, overwhelmed with emotion as he felt her kiss him for the first time. He used his metal hand on her cheek to pull her lips back onto his, already intoxicated with a euphoric feeling.

Y/N hummed when she felt his lips on hers again, her hand twisting to hold the back of his head as Bucky’s flesh hand slid down to pull her closer by the small of her back.

She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, reveling in the feeling of his prickly stubble gently scratching her skin. Bucky pulled her body flush against his, needing to feel her as he desperately sucked on her lip.

Y/N opened her mouth for him, feeling his warm tongue take the hint and slide into her mouth. She moaned softly, lifting one of her thighs over his hip as she sucked on his wet muscle. Bucky breathed heavily through his nose, feeling his cock stirring in his pants as they succumbed to their inevitable connection.

“I can’t lose you, Bucky.” She whimpered suddenly between kisses, tugging on his hair softly to pull his lips harder onto hers. A groan erupted from Bucky’s throat as his roamed over her body, trying to explore every part of her. “I can’t.”

“I’m right here, doll.” He whispered reassuringly as he pulled back from the kiss, guiding her head up to look at him as he pressed his lips against hers again in a slow peck. “I’m right here.” He repeated, wanting to take his time and make sure she knew he was sincere.

She left desperate, open mouthed kisses on his lips, letting soft moans of satisfaction errupt from her throat as her pebbled nipples pressed against Bucky’s chest. She subtly rocked her hips into his, feeling her panties dampen at Bucky’s reassuring words.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, trying to control the way his cock throbbed in his pants at her erotic touches. He felt her nails scraping gently along his scalp, tugging on his hair as he began kissing her back.

His hand pulled her hip toward him, their bodies completely flush against each other as Y/N sucked on his bottom lip. Bucky groaned as his fingers imprinted red marks on her skin from where he was holding her hip so hard, taking her top lip between his own as his tongue teased her mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Bucky whispered against her lips, their hot breaths mixing together before his hot mouth travelled along her tear stained cheek. Y/N gasped at the feeling, her head falling back as her nails gently dug into the flesh of his chest. Bucky kissed along her skin, feeling Y/N nudge into his touches with a little whimper. “Not unless you tell me too.”

Bucky took the opportunity to roll Y/N onto her back, pushing himself up to straddle her body as he planted his metal palm firmly against the mattress next to her head. He used it to steady himself, to keep his chest against hers as Bucky’s lips reached her ear.

Y/N’s eyes almost rolling back in euphoria as she clung to him, feeling safe under his strong body. Bucky’s hand slid down to the underside of her thigh, lifting it off the mattress to cage in his body as her heel pressed into the bed beneath them.

Y/N felt the pool of wetness drip from her pussy as her opposing leg copied the action, letting her hips buck up to meet his as Bucky’s lips left a row of open mouthed kisses on her exposed neck. She hummed in satisfaction, her fingers digging into the back of his head as he made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time, loved.

“Bucky.” She whimpered as he discovered the sensitive spot on the base of her neck, his lips ticklishly kissing over it again and again. Bucky felt his cock throb after hearing her moan his name, a shiver of pleasure errupting in Y/N’s body as she squeezed her legs around him a little tighter.

“Shh, you’re okay.” He mumbled between sloppy kisses, his tongue grazing against her soft skin as he kissed back up her neck. His fingers dug into her hip harshly, feeling her rock against him needily. “I’m right here.”

“I need you, Buck.” She breathed out weakly, her head dropping back as Bucky left kisses up the middle of her throat, desperate to mark every single inch of her skin. “You make everything okay.” She whimpered innocently, lifting her head to press her lips back against Bucky’s.

Bucky held her head up with his metal hand, his flesh one sliding up the inside of her thigh and over her tummy as Y/N dug her nails into the flesh of his back over his shirt. “I’m all yours, doll.” Bucky pecked her lips softly over and over as he slowly ground his hips down against hers, trying to relieve some of the aching pressure in his pants.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, tugging on his hair as she moved her hands under Bucky’s top to hold the bottom section of his tummy. He responded to her movements, sitting back slightly to pull his t-shirt over his head.

The sight of the shirtless super soldier between her thighs had Y/N breathless as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Her slick drenched her panties, a coil building in her tummy as she grew desperate to feel him.

She lifted her upper body to sit up, her face inches from his chest as her hands palmed over the soft skin of his abs. She pressed soft kisses over his torso, drinking in the delicate vulnerability of the moment.

Bucky’s eyes dropped to watch her, feeling his heart melt as she showered him with love. He felt her fingers press lightly into his sides, as if trying to hold him close forever.

Bucky moved his hands down, sliding under the sides of her shirt as he slipped the material up. “Is this okay?” He whispered shakily, nervous to be with her in this way. He wanted to give her everything, to have her overwhelmed with pleasure under him, but he was scared that one wrong move would result in her pushing him away.

Y/N nodded encouragingly, her heart fluttering shyly as she watched Bucky pull her shirt up, tugging it over her head. He swallowed audibly as he looked down at her bare chest, she’d taken her bra off after it irritating her earlier in the day. Her nipples were pebbled in the cold air, her plump flesh perky against her chest.

Bucky discarded of her shirt behind him, pressing his chest against hers as he guided her back down onto the mattress. His lips locked with hers, veins flooding with passion as he delicately kissed over the fragile skin of her neck.

Bucky looked up into her eyes, a soft blush of pink on her cheeks as he let his lips kiss down the valley of her breasts. She gasped at the feeling, her hips bucking to meet his as his hot breath ghosted over her skin.

He grunted softly as his lips reached her nipple, kissing it delicately before he took it in his mouth. Y/N whimpered at the feeling of Bucky’s hot muscle swirling around her sensitive nub.

She played with his hair as he tugged her nipple away from her skin, letting it go with a bounce as he kissed his way to the other side, he would’ve happily stayed sucking her tits forever.

“So beautiful.” Bucky mumbled lovingly as he worked on her other nipple, missing the way that Y/N bit her lip to muffle her sounds.

He took his time on her body, kissing his way down her tummy until he reached the waistband of her shorts. Y/N sat up on her elbows as she watched Bucky between her legs.

He slid his hands up the inside of her thighs, stopping when he got to where they met with her dripping core. Bucky could smell how aroused she was, licking his lips as he moved his face closer to her centre.

He tugged the waistband of her shorts down, faced with her sweet cotton panties that hugged every crevice of her puffy pussy lips, pooling in her own slick. He flicked a glance up to her, and after seeing no trepidation in her eyes, he exposed her dripping pussy to him.

Bucky groaned softly, using the last of his willpower to control himself. She was so fragile, so soft and delicate on display for him. His heart pounded against his chest as an immense wave of emotion coursed through his veins, wondering what he’d ever done to be lucky enough to have her opening up to him like this.

He watched her pussy glisten in the soft light of the room, her swollen lips begging for attention. He closed his eyes with a shaky breath, her needy cunt literally drooling for him.

She watched him with lust filled eyes, her chest panting in anticipation. Bucky tugged her shorts and panties down her legs, not wanting her covered up for even a moment longer.

“You’re so wet for me, angel.” Bucky huffed out weakly, fucked out just by the sight of her. His cock was straining against his pants, desperate to feel her warm pussy around his cock.

Bucky testingly prodded his tongue between her slippery pussy lips, feeling her wiggle in shock above him as she moaned out his name. She could hear the sound of her wetness against his hot muscle as he moved his tongue further between her folds.

She gasped softly, her back relaxing into the mattress as he teased her hole with his tongue. Bucky’s eyes watched her start to come undone above him, his beard scratching the inside of her thighs as he rubbed his face against her pretty pussy.

“Bucky.” She moaned his name, the most delightful sound he’d ever heard. He hummed against her core, switching between kissing and tonguing her most intimate part. She tasted sweet on his lips. her clit throbbing against his tongue as she tried to control her whimpers. “Bucky, please. I need to feel you.”

Bucky responded to her words like his life depended on it, lifting his head from her centre and crawling back up her body. He pressed his lips against hers, letting her taste the sweetness of her juices on his tongue. She hummed into his tender kiss, her hand coming up to hold onto his muscular shoulder.

Y/N breathed out shakily as she nervously let her free hand wander down his stomach, their chests ticklishly touching. Bucky let his tongue teasingly play with hers, trying to control the throbbing of his cock as her small hand pushed into his pants.

He bucked his hips into her touch, nudging her hand further into his underwear as she palmed his hard member. Y/N gasped when she felt how big he felt in her hand, his skin velvety soft under her palm.

She wrapped her hand around his length, letting the pad of her thumb smear the dripping bead of pre-cum around his swollen tip. Bucky let out a soft moan against her mouth, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt his muscles tensing at her touch.

He moved his hand down to palm away the clothing that was covering the bottom half of his body, his movements now clumsy as he fought with the material. Y/N lifted her legs, digging her feet into his pants to help him with removing them.

He kissed her with an intense deepness as he kicked them off along with his underwear, Y/N’s hand moving up from his cock to hold the back of his head. Their hearts pounded with anticipation, their chests pressing together as they got drunk on each other’s love.

“It’s always gunna be me and you, doll.” Bucky whispered against her lips, his blue eyes locking with hers as he admired how innocent she looked under him. The vulnerability of the moment caught her off guard, unable to even consider the worries of tomorrow whilst he was holding her so close. “I promise.” Bucky pressed his lips against hers, his arm cradling her body as he slowly pushed his hard member between her lower lips.

The feeling of him filling her up proved overwhelming for the pair, loud moans escaping their lips as Bucky stilled, fully sheathed inside of her. Y/N breathed shakily, her finger nails digging into his hot flesh as she tugged his lips back down onto hers.

Bucky groaned weakly as he felt her pussy fluttering around him, welcoming him in so perfectly, like she was made for him. He glided his hips back, pulling almost fully out of her before sliding back in. He felt her hips jolt as his tip pressed against her cervix, in awe of how well she was taking him.

Y/N let her fingers scrape along his scalp, arching her back up to meet him as he thrusted in and out of her at a slow pace. Little gasps fell from her lips as she felt every detail of his cock as it slid deep into her. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back against the pillow as Bucky gave her all of him.

Her gasps turned to whines as Bucky picked up the pace slightly, feeling her walls relaxing around him. A moan escaped his throat as he dropped his head to her neck, the action causing their chests pressing firmer against each other.

His lips kissed a strip from her ear to her collarbone, her nails clinging to the muscles in his back as she felt her pussy twitching around his cock. Waves of a tingling pleasure overtook her body, her juices dripping down to where his skin slapped against hers with his thrusts.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, her feet hooking together as she pulled him down closer to her. A slight glint of sweat covered Bucky’s forehead as he tried to prolonge his climax, his hands balling fists into the bedsheets.

He let out a shaky breath, fucking the love into her as she rolled her head to look into his eyes. Bucky’s cock twitched at the look of euphoria on her face, little whimpers of pleasure escaping her parted lips.

“Bucky.” She whispered breathlessly through hooded eyes as he pounded into her, almost needing reassurance that he was real, that this was actually happening. Because it felt good enough to be a dream. She was losing control of her mind, everything around her becoming blurry as she got lost in pleasure.

“I’m here, baby.” Bucky cooed her softly, his stomach doing flips at how perfect she looked, feeling her pussy clenching around his cock as his pelvis rubbed against her swollen clit with every thrust.

Y/N’s mind clouded over at the petname, her head dropping back onto the bed as her thighs trembled around him. She melted into the mattress, gasping in extacy as Bucky brought her to her orgasm.

Bucky moaned as her pussy throbbed continuiously, her core squeezing his length as her muscles spasmed violently. It sent him over the edge, the movments of his thrusts becoming rhythmless as his cum travelled up from his balls.

She let a loud moan of his name escape her lips, desperately clinging to him as ripples of pleasure shook through her body. Her pussy pulsated around his length, sucking him in and rubbing his shaft with her warm walls.

A grunt erruped from his throat as he shot his load deep inside of her canal, filling her up with his warm cum as she hummed in satisfaction. She could feel every spurt of his thick stream, mixing with her juices that were gushing around his length.

Bucky’s cock twitched as she came undone beneath him, her back arching to meet his as he pushed his lips back on to hers. He felt himself lose control of his body as she writhed in pleasure, trying to ride out her high.

Innocent little whimpers escaped her lips as she kissed him back, cupping his jaw in her hand as she felt his shaky breath against her face. Y/N could feel Bucky’s cock softening inside of her, subconsciously sliding out of her sensitive core as she kissed his swollen lips.

Bucky let out a groan of displeasure when his thick length slipped out of her, continuing to kiss her deeply as they both recovered from their orgasms. Their chests pressed together as Bucky’s arms weakened, Y/N’s legs dropping from around his hips to fall against the bed with exhaustion.

Their bodies were completely satisfied, mentally, emotionally and physically. They laid there, as they usually did each night, reveling in each other’s company. Although this time, they were also blissfully at peace with their new found level of shared intimate vulnerability.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

@codyl-angdon

@marveljunkieee

@reindeer-loki

@fangirl-swagg

@abrunettefangirlnerd

@a--1--1--3

611 notes · View notes

sugaxjpg · 3 years

Text

infamous; m

⤷ You would rather die than to have someone figure out about your sexual escapades with Local Fuckboy, Kim Taehyung. It was an ego thing.

✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & SecretRelationship!AU

✓ Filed under: smut

✓ Look out for: bathroom sex, breast play, oral (male receiving) + deepthroat, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (use condoms or i’ll kill u!!!), mirrors,switch!tae and switch!reader, taehyung being lowkey a prick but we’re all in for it

✓ Words: 12,508

Author’s Note: Of course my year-long hiatus would end with a smut. What else can I say? I can hear the clown music from here.

“Like, can you actually believe that? He ghosted me for three weeks, then he had the nerve to ask for a tit pic.” She sighed, taking a slip from her neon green drink. You didn’t know how Hyejin could ingest something that resembled toxic waste and make it seem like it actually brought her some sort of comfort. “You know what? I’m done with men. All of them. We really are living in the medieval ti— Are you even listening to me?”

You blinked twice, taken off guard by the clicking of her fingers in front of your eyes. Truth was, you were only half present, the other half of you scrutinizing the living room, trying to find a certain someone amongst the agglomeration of bodies.

“Yeah, sure, sorry,” you apologized, leaning your side against the wall. Behind Hyejin, two guys started yelling about something related to Harry Potter and you couldn’t care less. “I was somewhere else for a second, but I’m here now. You were saying that he ghosted you?”

“Yeah, like an absolute idiot.” She rolled her eyes, gesticulating aggressively. You nervously watched the movements of the radioactive cup, worried that it would splash all over your clothes. You really should’ve thought twice before combining a white blouse with your black skirt — that was a catastrophe waiting to happen. “I’m never talking to him again. Or any man.”

“Hm,” you hummed, crossing your arms. You didn’t know who she was trying to convince, that must’ve been the fifth time you heard your friend giving you that speech (during that semester alone). “Who’s that again? Hoseok?”

“The one and only,” she agreed, glimpsing at her side as if someone could even hear you two amongst the loud reverberation of the music. “Really, I don’t know how those guys haven’t been thrown out of the campus yet. They’re a hazard, all seven of them. A threat to public health.”

You shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, they pay their tuition and do well in class. That’s as far as the college cares.”

She groaned. “I guess.” Another slip. A pause. Another one. Yep, you were designated driver for the night. “Could be worse, though, I could be one of the poor chicks that Taehyung fucks in his spare time.”

Oh.

You giggled, nervous. “Yeah, yeah,” you agreed, looking back at the mass of students. “Yeah, that’d be awful.”

She hummed in concordance, taking her cup back to her lips. The two guys behind her decided to quit the arguments and moved away from the two of you, making you follow their figures as they dissipated amongst the crowd. You didn’t know how college parties managed to squeeze so many people in one small living room, but it was one of the mysteries of life, you guessed.

“I don’t know what’s the deal with that one,” Hyejin continued. “It’s like he has a golden dick or something.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your attention back at her. “What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s a complete douche.” She moved her hand as if she was scaring away an invisible fly. “Don’t even think about him. He’s the kind that uses and discards people.”

“You think so?” You asked.

“I know so,” she said. “I couldn’t even count on my fingers the amount of girls that had one night stands with Taehyung, and somehow became completely whipped by the dude, only to be told that he doesn’t ‘fuck the same person twice’. Like… What the fuck is that? Who says that?”

You laughed, noticing the tinge of red that covered her cheeks. “You sound really drunk.”

“So?” She asked. “I’m not bullshitting you. Taehyung is a prick and that’s gospel.” She raised her cup in a silent cheer, and took another slip. “I know you’re not involved in the fuckboy phenomena that plagues this campus, and, honestly, you’re better off that way. But trust me when I say that he isn’t worth the headache.”

With an inattentive nod, you took another peek at the strangers in the room. “I believe you, don’t worry.”

The worst part? You did.

Even worse? There were two things wrong with what she had told you.

Number one: yes, Taehyung was kind of a jerk sometimes. But he wasn’t completely soulless. He was fun to be around, actually, when he wasn’t surrounded by his smooth-brained friends, or trying to impress someone into sleeping with him. Also, you were pretty sure he told at least most of those girls that he wasn’t searching for anything serious, and a one-night stand was most likely all that they would get.

You couldn’t speak for all of them, of course, but the ones that you knew personally, at least, had mentioned something along those lines to you. He didn’t exactly lead them on, trying to break their hearts just for the sake of it. Besides, Taheyung was already kind of infamous around campus for “using and discarding” people, as Hyejin had put, so it wasn’t precisely a surprise for anyone involved.

Number two: Taehyung fucked the same person twice, if he felt like it. And you knew that because you’ve been fucking him on and off for the past five months or so.

To your defense, you weren’t exactly after a “secret friends with benefits” relationship when you first met him. In fact, you didn’t expect that you would fall victim to his charms just like everyone else, melting under his tender kisses, moaning his name as he rolled his hips against you, edging your orgasm for longer than you could hold it. And you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did.

Truth was: Kim Taehyung was everything, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that he was attractive as hell; he knew that he had a voice so silky and deep that just saying the right words would be enough to have you in bed with him — and he knew how to use two two things very well. So, just like Eve, you followed the snake and bit the apple, and blah blah blah, eternal damnation or something like that. Big deal.

You didn’t care much about being fuckbuddies with Taehyung, actually — he had his fun with other people in the meantime, and so did you —, but you pretty much could die at the idea that someone would find out. It was an ego thing, alright? You didn’t want people to know that you were interested in him, since you prided yourself in being a strong, independent woman, and to have people think that you were wrapped around his finger (which you absolutely wasn’t!) would not be a good look for your personal brand.

And it got more complicated than that. The thing was that Taehyung had always been one to flaunt around his trophies. It wasn’t unheard of for him to just start talking about someone that he had fucked, maybe even giving a bit more detail than anyone else involved would appreciate. You knew that it was just a matter of time before your name dropped from his lips at the wrong time, in front of his ape-brained friends, and everyone would discover that you were added to his long lists of booty calls.

So, when you asked to keep that first night a secret, you were surprised when he quickly accepted it.

Against all expectations, Taehyung didn’t fall into his old pattern when it came to you. He had been the one to text you first, calling you over to his place — which he made sure to be empty — and he had been the first one to suggest that you two kept meeting up after that. Now, let’s not get this mixed up: it wasn’t an undisclosed crush, it wasn’t love. It was just Taehyung fulfilling some weird-ass kink of his. He liked to have you when he wanted it, the way he wanted it, and he liked the thrill of it all being undisclosed — to him, it felt like you two were doing something wrong, which managed to turn him on even more.

Also, you were human, alright? There was something extremely tempting about sleeping with someone as almighty as Kim Taehyung, King of Fuckboys, especially when he kept coming back to you. It’s only nature to want to feel special every once in a while.

Again: it was an ego thing.

Even if your pride told you otherwise, you decided, again and again, to come back to him. Late at night in your apartment, when your roommate had already gone to sleep, and he was buried deep between your legs, licking your wetness and sucking on your clit. Or maybe in the interval between your classes, when you two managed to get the locker rooms empty, and he fucked you so hard against one of the lockers that you could swear someone would come see what was going on with all that banging against the metal.

But no, no one ever caught you. Not Hyejin or any of your other friends. As far as you were aware, Taehyung’s group didn’t know a thing either, which made you appreciate him even more.

See? He wasn’t a total douchebag. He had the most basic sense of loyalty.

And, yeah, you didn’t like lying to your friends, but it was a necessary measure. You were sure they would kill you if they found out about your private escapades with the Local Fuckface McGee: half out of sheer panic for your emotional well-being, and the other half out of pure jealousy. You didn’t think much about it most of the time, since you kind of understood Taehyung’s side: you simply liked the thrill, and you weren’t actually doing anything illegal. No one really had to know.

Rupturing the bubble of your nostalgia, your friend’s voice startled you back into reality.

“Who are you looking for?” Hyejin furrowed her eyebrows, staring you down intensely. She had been your friend for three years, and you were absolutely certain she could see through your bullshit — well, most of the time. “Do you have a dick appointment that I don’t know about?”

You laughed, your voice coming out an octave higher than you intended it to. “What? No!” So subtle, congratulations. “I’m just searching for a friend. She owes me a bit of money and she’s been avoiding me for some time.”

You were impressed at the ease that the lie left your tongue. At the same time, you had been doing that for five months now — keeping your distance from mentioning anything Taehyung, figuring out excuses to get away from your friends at the weirdest of times — , so you guessed that was something that came with practice.

“You want me to beat her up?” Hyejin offered. Just a glimpse was all that you needed to know that she was dead serious. “Give me her name. I promise I just wanna talk.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, chuckling at her aggressive demeanor. “It’s not a lot of money, I’m not super worried. I’m just tired of being avoided.”

She smirked, taking another slip from her cup. How didn’t the drink end yet? That cup was infinite. “You and me both, sister.”

Your lips parted, but, before you managed to let anything out, a loud sound of men screaming in excitement overlapped the beat of the electronic song. Hyejin met your eyes with a mixture of puzzlement and interest and, in an unspoken agreement, you two decided to see what the fuss was about.

Lucky for you, you two didn’t even have to take two steps to figure it out. Since the large opening to the living room was right besides you, all that you needed to do was to take a look through it, right at the kitchen, to see the beautiful, Animal Planet view of Hoseok drinking beer upside down.

“Hyejin?” You called calmly, eyes still glued to the spectacle.

“Yes, love?” She answered, absent-minded.

“You know who’s throwing this party, right?”

She shrugged. “I might.”

You suspired, taking a step back so you could stare at her. Behind you, people walked towards the kitchen, pumped to see if Hoseok could drink the entire thing (as if he didn’t do that in every single party he throwed). “So, there’s any other reason why you dragged me to Hoseok’s party, besides one that you needed someone to keep you company while you waited to be dicked down?”

“Great deduction, Sherlock.” She smiled, eyes shining in enthusiasm. You looked at Hoseok, then back at Hyejin. Maybe she wouldn’t have any grounds to judge you and Taehyung after that circus performance. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about that.” You crossed your arms. Seokjin, who was holding Hoseok by the ankles, pterodactyl-screeched in joy as the boy reached the end of the beer. Two more slips and he’d be good to go. “You sent him the tit pic, didn’t you?”

Hyejin licked her lips, taking a hand up to fix her hair. “I’m only human,” she said. “Besides, I had already invested a lot on him. I even did a full body shave. I couldn’t just not do it.”

You laughed at the idea, watching as she became more and more distracted by the man. A group had already formed around Hoseok, and you knew it was just a matter of when Hyejin would do the same.

“What happened about being over all men?” You asked.

“Yeah, yeah… After tonight. Right now I’m planning to get under one.” She gave you her neon green cup with a harsh movement, and you held it without thinking much about it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N. Hold my drink for me.”

“Have a great night, I guess,” you raised the sound of your voice as she began to walk away. “Text me when you get home!”

She responded without turning back, giving you a thumbs up over her head. “You too, girlie!”

And, just like that, she was gone.

Disappointed but not surprised, you sighed and placed your body back against the wall. From the kitchen, a roaring applause exploded, and you knew that Hoseok had finished his Herculean task. Good for him.

You stared down. The sharp shade of green reflected on the skin of your hands, looking like something straight out of Chernobyl. You took the cup to your nostrils and gave it an experimental sniff, your nose cringing at the appalling smell. Fighting the disgust that had built in your stomach, you quickly took it away from your face, and decided to place it on a table nearby. No wonder Hyejin was so out of it, the poor girl was suffering from radiation poisoning.

The Chainsmorkers started to play and you asked yourself why the fuck was Satan in charge of the music. All around you, strangers fumbled to the rhythm of the song, a girl even falling to her knees at one bad turn of the ankle, then turning her gaze up at her friends and laughing maniacally. The odor that enveloped you was strong and nauseating — Axe body spray, probably — and the thumping of the sound was starting to get annoying. Since you were alone with your thoughts, there wasn’t much left besides to hyperfocus on those details, which was all but a pleasant pastime.

You crossed your arms, bored out of your mind, and thought that it might be the wiser decision to go back to your place and just sleep the night off. Yeah, the semester was already ending, most of your tests and projects had passed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t completely exhausted at all the accumulated stress you had endured. Now that Hyejin had moved on with her plan, you didn’t have much of a part to play in that party anyways.

A couple almost tripped on you as they giggled their way towards the stairs, probably searching for an available room. What a nice reminder. You pressed your lips together, then peaked back at the kitchen, where you only saw Seokjin, Namjoon and Jungkook leaning over a pile of red cups — Yoongi right behind them, seeming like he was about to kick the whole thing down. You didn’t know where Taehyung was, but he most likely already left with someone else.

You turned back to your previous position, crossing your arms in frustration. Great. Your friend was after her sexting partner, and your own booty call was probably balls deep inside someone else by then. Really, there wasn’t much that you could do in there. It would be better if you just left while your dignity was still intact.

With a sigh, you pushed your body away from the wall, fumbling with your purse. You were praying that Hyejin remembered to give you the car keys, otherwise you would be trapped in that place for god knows how lo—

Oh there he fucking was.

The moment that you saw Taehyung, sitting on the couch across the room from you, it was like you forgot to breathe for a moment. That little demon incarnated looked better than you had anticipated — dressed in all black, with his thighs spread across the seat, ready to be fucked right then and there. His dark hair was parted in the middle, a few stubborn strands falling over his angelic features, and his thumb distractedly circled his lower lip as his gaze navigated around the room, staring at nothing in particular. Next to him, you could see another one of his friends — Jimin, if you were not mistaken — talking about something animatedly, but the other man was paying no attention.

His expression was one of irritation, you noticed, with his thick eyebrows moving together, jaw clenching. It was pretty erotic, if you said so yourself. You didn’t know what Jimin was telling him, but you sure hoped he wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

When he saw you, however, Taehyung’s perceived annoyance instantly dissipated.

With your mind racing in anticipation, you watched as his eyes met your own, then trailed down your body with desire, stopping around the level of your thighs for a bit longer than you had predicted. You knew that stare awfully well — it was the same one that Taehyung gave you when he saw you around campus, the silent provocation that told you, and only you, that he really wanted to have some alone time right now.

A sly smirk sprouted at the corner of his lips, and he leaned back against the couch. You followed his movements as he reached towards his pocket and came back with his phone, staring at you as he did so. The phantasmagoric white light casted odd shadows over his face as he unlocked it, taking a final glance at your expectant features before he started to type something. Once he was done, he locked his phone and placed it back where it had come from.

Inside your purse, your own phone beeped happily.

You licked your lips, trying your best to forge indifference as you reached for your device. You swore you could still feel his eyes still burning on you, impatient and deep, watching your every move with eagerness.

[00:23] Taehyung: so glad to see that you came bby

[00:23] Taehyung: do me a favor and meet me in the bathroom upstairs, will ya? Second door to the right ;)

Yep, new plans: you would stay there a bit longer.

Hammering against your chest, your heart seemed as if it was about to jump out of your mouth by the time that you turned your attention back to the couch. Taehyung, however, had already gotten up, and you had the chance to take a last glance towards his beautiful form as he walked towards the stairs. Jimin, from the couch, appeared to be as lost as they come.

From the kitchen, the resounding complaint of the group you had seen before ruptured your hypnotized state — Yoongi had, in fact, kicked everything down. Taken aback by the carnality that permeated your chest, you locked your phone without typing an answer and leaned back against the wall, deciding it would be best to wait a minute or two before following him upstairs. Amongst your thoughts, a part of you was still judging whether you adored or despised Kim Taehyung, and the intoxicating effect he had on you.

Finally, you decided to take the stairs. You wondered, as you opened your way through the ocean of sweaty bodies and spilling drinks, if you weren’t trying too hard to rationalize and catastrophize something that was actually very simple. It was a story with a start, a middle part, and a satisfying ending: you two wanted to fuck each other, you did, then you moved right on. No hidden feelings, no strings attached. That was it. Couldn’t get any better than that.

Regardless, it wasn’t everything about that, and you knew it. It was about overhearing other girls talking as you made your way upstairs, complaining about how ridiculously hot he was, or about how he didn’t call them back after he gave them the best night of their lives. It was about having that steamy, trembling secret between the two of you. It was about knowing that yeah, Taehyung was crazy hot — and you could have that whenever you wanted. It was about hearing him complain about his friends, who told him that you’d never give him a chance, and seeing the delectable pleasure in which he vangloriared himself, knowing very well that you and him had a second life to share whenever suited.

You reached the second floor with electric currents running through your veins, anticipation building like a tidal wave inside your abdomen. You two had never done something like that so close to so many people and, yet, you adored the idea even more.

The cold metal of the door handle met the palm of your hand and you tried it once, twice, with no effect. After looking at the corridor and making sure that Taehyung was nowhere else to be seen — besides the fact that, if he didn’t manage to get the bathroom, he would surely text you a different location — you were left to assume that he wanted to know that it was you who waited at the other side.

With a sigh, you took your phone out of your purse. Maybe your fingers weren’t as steady as you’d like them to be, but no one needed to know about that.

[00:27] You: plz open the door thx

Expectantly, you placed your phone back and tried to overhear some sort of sound signifying that he was moving closer to the door — but the song was so loud that you could barely understand your own thoughts. The next seconds that you stood there, just waiting for him to open the door, had been the longest ones you had endured in your life.

Eventually, however, the door creaked open.

You gave one last, paranoid glimpse at the strangers in the corridor, but none of them seemed to notice that Taehyung hadn’t left the bathroom by the time that you came in, locking the door behind you.

It was like stepping into a different reality. The lights inside the bathroom were absurdly bright when compared to the dim environment that expanded outside; the obnoxious song and chatter had instantly morphed into a muted exclamation outside of the door, only the reverberation of the bass making itself present. Just like the calm before the storm, there was a moment of tranquility between the instant that you locked the door, and the one that you saw him.

As you turned around, dwelling in his proximity, you thought about a million things at the same time — about teasing him about his location choice, or maybe about how he must’ve been going through a drought, if he had to count on his covert booty call to get laid in a party. You thought about how gorgeous he looked, about how his eyes glistened in interest as he took a quiet step towards you, his roseate tongue coming out to lick his lips.

Regardless, before you could say anything, Taehyung’s lips were on your own, attacking your mouth in a fervorous kiss. You whimpered in surprise as he pushed you against the closed bathroom door, his hands circling your waist as he squeezed your body against his. Your purse fell on the ground with a muffled sound, but you barely even noticed it.

Taehyung had always been an intense kisser to say the least, but that night it was something else. That night, he was kissing you as if he physically couldn’t contain himself long enough to do anything else; as if all that he could think of doing was to feel the heavenly contact of your mouth against his, your fingers pulling on the strands of his hair. As he invited his tongue inside your mouth, Taehyung groaned and lowered his hands, squeezing your ass like he was about to lose every last ounce of sanity he had left in him.

You sighed as he moved his focus onto your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses in a way that you knew would leave a mark the next day. “Someone’s excited,” you commented, slightly breathless. Your only response was another groan, and the rolling of his hips against you, where you could feel his cock, already semi-hard, pressing against your inner thigh. “Couldn’t even bother to take me somewhere else.”

One of his hands moved up to your hair, pulling your head sideways so he could have a better access to your neck. “I need to have you now,” his deep voice came out muffled against your skin, the reverberations of his timbre propagating directly towards your center.

“You’re starting to get more adventurous with this.” You bit down on your lower lip and he sucked your flesh, groping your ass once again. “Parties used to be so off limits to you.”

Taehyung chuckled against your neck, moving back towards your mouth. He started making out with you again, his breath hot and heavy against your face, and you thought you could very well pass out at the level of craving that had built inside you. “I changed my mind.” He spoke as he leaned back.

You smirked at his attitude. “We’ll end up getting caught.”

“Aw, baby.” He pouted, looking at you with artificial pity. Okay, he could be kind of a prick sometimes. “You’re the one who’s worried. And you came all the way up here because you wanted to. You know I’m not one to insist.”

“I can leave, then?” You raised one eyebrow, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You can, the door is right behind you,” Taehyung told you, quickly losing interest in that conversation. “But something tells me you won’t.”

You didn’t even try to respond, because there was nothing to be said: both of you knew what you were doing there, and the idea of walking out was just too ridiculous to consider.

With a suspire, you watched as Taehyung moved his lips down your chest, stopping at the fabric of your blouse.

“What if someone hears us?’ You suddenly remembered, heartbeat quickening at the thought.

“What is it, baby?” He asked as his fingers worked on your buttons, exposing more of your torso. That slow pace of his was going to kill you one of those days. “You’re worried that people are going to find out about this? About us?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his chuckle — so deep and melodious — caught you off guard.

“How scandalous, right? Y/N is not the pure little thing she makes herself to be,” Taehyung continued, finally opening your blouse and fully exposing your bra to him. He licked his lips at the sight, humming with delight. “Red lace? You really want to tease me.”

You swallowed dry as the man took the fabric off your shoulders and gently placed besides the sink, above a towel. He could be so thoughtful sometimes. “Taehyung, I—“

“You’re such a little brat sometimes, do you know that?” he interrupted, eyes following his own movements as his hands circled your body, moving to unclasp your bra. And of course he got it right on the first try. “You came all the way up here just to get fucked, and now you’re worried that people are going to know about it.”

You stared him down, a smirk already creeping up at the corner of your lips. “How does that make me a brat?”

He chuckled. “Look at you, trying to play the naive card on me.” Another agile movement of his fingers and your bra was joining your blouse besides the sink. Taehyung sighed tentatively at the image of your exposed breasts, trying to imprint that sight into the back of his mind. “Pretending as if you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. You can drop the act now, baby.”

“I don’t—“

His mouth attacking your breasts was all that you needed to shut up and let him do what he went there to do. Overwhelmed by the sensation, you let out a gasp as his hand squeezed you, playing with your soft boobs as he moaned against your skin.

“I love it so much.” Taehyung hummed as he sucked on your breasts, moaning at the marvelous sensation of your warm skin against his tongue. You had almost forgotten how much Taehyung ached to play with your boobs; how often he would squeeze them, suck them; find excuses to feel them against his body. Not that you were complaining. “And I love that it’s all for me.” He breathed out before attacking your other nipple. “All of this… all mine.”

You whimpered at the contact, arching your back in a failed attempt to get closer to him. As much as you knew he was most likely just saying whatever he thought would turn you on — besides, you two had already agreed on a pretty open “relationship” —, Taehyung’s words expanded inside your chest, building a heat that seemed to suffocate you. Even if you knew it was bullshit, you liked to be called his. Ego strokes and all of that.

“Taehyung…” There was only a thin wooden door separating you two from the outside world, and you couldn’t care less if they heard you calling out his name. That boy really did wonders to your anxiety.

But he also liked to tease you.

He moved away from your breasts and you almost — almost — cried out in frustration.

Taehyung traced his kisses back to your neck, then to your jawline. You were going crazy with all that back and forth. “Baby, I’m not gonna lie, I understand where you’re coming from,” he said. “I like to keep this as a secret too. It’s so hot.”

You almost forgot how to inhale when he aligned his face with yours, placing a pec on your swollen lips. “Yeah?” You asked, sounding as if you were in a daydream.

“Yeah,” he agreed, breathless. Even if Taehyung tried his best to look as he was under absolute control, you knew that he couldn’t keep that front for too long. He was clearly turned on, and the hardness pressing against your thigh was all of the proof that you needed. “It’s so great to know that I have one of the sexiest girls on campus just for myself…” His hand trailed up your thighs, adventuring in the lands beneath your skirt. “And no one knows.”

You bit your lower lip, anticipating the contact of his hand against your core. “I thought you were the kind to kiss and tell.”

“Most times,” he mumbled, gifting you with another small pec. “Not with you. I like it like this. Having you when I want, how I want, and only you and I know.”

But you weren’t satisfied with his answer. His hand did a turn and decided to make a quick stop on your ass, the feeling of skin against skin making your lower body tingle. “What’s so enticing about it?” You asked.

He smiled. “Ah… many things.”

Your stare didn’t falter. “I’d like an exemple.”

Instead of answering you straight away, Taehyung decided to take his sweet time. He leaned his head to the side and kissed you feverishly, growing satisfied at the small whimpers and suspires that echoed in between your mouths. His hands were all over you: on your ass, your waist, down your thighs and up your hips, where his eyes could not see. You only had your skirt and your panties on, and it was so frustrating to still feel him fully dressed against you.

At last, Taehyung pulled away, placing his forehead against yours. As he spoke, you felt the tingle of his hands as they moved towards the hem of your panties. “I like seeing you walk around campus, knowing that you’re so sore from the night before,” he spoke slowly, his voice in a low vibration against your mouth. “And I know you don’t tell any of your friends about it. About how I fucked you so good that you almost cried, and that it’s the next day, and you can barely walk.”

You hummed, closing your eyes. “What else?”

Much to your dismay, his hands left your underwear again, coming out to pull you closer. “When you send me those audios late at night,” he was breathing out hard then, drowning in those lewd memories. “Playing with your little cunt, crying out my name… shit,” he cursed. “How am I supposed to say no to that? So there I go, out the door, telling my friends that I’m gonna see this crazy hot chick and I’m gonna fuck her brains out…” he hesitated. “And I just get this... rush because they don’t know it’s you.”

“And how do you know that I like any of it?” You teased.

Taehyung chuckled at your question. Both of you knew that it was plastered all over your face, but he could keep up that little teasing if you wanted to. “Two reasons,” he said. “First: you do the same to me, or don’t you?”

“I don’t recall,” you responded, forging innocence. Okay, maybe you did play the naive part a bit much.

“Oh no? What a terrible memory you have.” He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, his words hitting your skin in heated, libidinous waves. Taehyung was so close that you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to, his torso squeezed so tight against yours that you wondered how you even managed to breathe in that position. “It was just last week, baby. You called me to your flat after your roommate had left.” One of his hands went back to play with the hem of your underwear, fingertips feeling like lit matches against your skin. “You opened so wide for me, you were so wet already. You got so horny with just the thought of having my cock, isn’t that right?”

Much to your surprise, your voice came out a lot more steady than you had expected. “Don’t flatter yourself, you don’t know that.”

Taehyung chuckled, placing his warm, swollen lips against the skin of your neck. “I don’t,” he agreed, digits pressing against your clothed clit. You knew he could feel how soaked your panties had become, so there was no reason to keep that up. Regardless, you kind of liked it. “But I do remember how much you wanted me that night, whining and begging me to fill you up with my cock. How many times did I fuck you that night, uh? Four? Five times? And you just had to keep quiet, because your neighbors might have been listening. That was so cute.”

You sighed, your insides in knots over the tension you were sustaining. You hated him sometimes. Hated how good he was. “I wasn’t counting.”

“I know, baby.” He swiftly pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, his long fingers digging into your wet heat. Memories of them fucking you open flooded your mind, sending a shockwave directly through your torso and towards your pussy. “And this right here, baby, is the second reason. Look at this: you’re soaked.” His digits moved, teasing your entrance, and the sound was so lewd that you had to suppress a moan. “You’re always so ready to take me. I love that. You’re so good to me.”

God, you were about to lose it.

With the force of then thousand warriors, you held back another less-than-graceful sound from escaping your lips. You knew how much Taehyung liked you being loud (something to do with the adrenaline of getting caught, nothing new to see here), and so you had to keep your cool. It wouldn’t be so fun if you just gave him everything he wanted.

“So quiet all of a sudden.” His nose delicately trailed up your neck, his mouth meeting the angle of your jaw in hot, open kisses. In an attempt to ground yourself, your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging through his shirt. You could still feel Taehyung’s fingers playing with your wet folds, seeing how much you could take before you were begging for them to enter you. You hated him. Or not. You didn’t know. “I know I leave you speechless, baby, but I wanna hear you too.”

Strong and steady, his other hand met the curvature of your waist, pressing your body against his. In a mindless reflex, you perked up your ass at the contact, making his fingers slip closer to your soaking entrance.

“Nothing? Baby, you’re especially irresistible tonight.” Taehyung’s eyes were somewhat dazed, unfocused and hooded. He appeared as if he was two seconds away from fucking you raw against the wall, and you seriously wouldn’t mind. “You know why I called you here?”

“Because you want to fuck me,” you responded without missing a beat.

“I do, of course.” He placed his forehead against yours, and you whimpered weakly as two of his fingers finally (finally!) made their way into your heat, stretching you nicely. “That’s it, baby, don’t hold back.”

Instead of answering, another slow, delicious moan dripped like honey from your tongue. Taehyung grunted, satisfied at your responses, and quickened the pace inside your walls; your eyelashes fluttering shut at the ambrosial sensation. He had told you once about how much he liked that part: knowing that you were getting ready for his cock, but already so eager to cum around his fingers.

Did he tell you that while he fingered you inside his car? Yes. Did anyone else have to know that? Absolutely not.

“You know what I was doing before I came here?” His question caught you off guard.

You didn’t even know if you were able to answer for a second, but, happily, the word didn’t have any issue coming out. “What?”

He took a deep, sharp breath, curling his fingers inside you. You pressed your back against the door at the shock of his digits brushing against your sensitive spot, one of your hands flying to your mouth in a way to suppress a particularly loud exclamation of pleasure. “I was listening to Jimin complain about how much he wanted to have you in his bed tonight,” his voice came out in a harsh tone, full of spikes and pointed corners. “Over and over, like a broken record. He can be so explicit when he wants to. It’s unbearable.”

You bit your bottom lip, rolling your hip against his hand. Your body was starting to tingle, the muscles in your legs turning into jello, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer. As you spoke, you noticed touches of bliss ornamenting your syllables, your words coming out with a bit more difficulty than before. “Oh, so you’re jealous?” You teased.

“Me? Never,” he was quick to respond, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him; his cock throbbing painfully against the fabric of his pants. “I’m just… trying to change your mind.”

“My mind?” You echoed, only half-aware of that conversation. Pleasure was starting to build in alarming rates, and you were starting to lose your trail of thought. “I haven't even decided anything yet.”

“After I’m done, baby, you won’t need to,” his voice came out in a profound whisper, sounding like a sweet melody against your ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard and slow, so deep,” he stressed that word, making your pussy throb around his fingers at the idea, “that you won’t want to have anyone else for the night. Only me.”

It sounded a bit like possessiveness or jealousy to you, but, honestly, you chose not to pick that conversation for the night. It was probably some kind of acting on his part too. Besides, you weren’t interested in any of Taehyung’s friends, so he didn’t need to worry about Jimin, or anyone else, making a move — especially when he was fingering you so well that you were about to forget your name.

“And the best part, baby, is that no one will even know it,” he continued, separating his fingers slightly so he could scissor you. Against your best judgement, your knees were getting weaker by the minute, the knot in your abdomen about to untie. “Just you and I. Just the two of us will know how much you begged to be filled up with my cock, how wet you already are just for my fingers.”

“Taehyung,” you called out, hands tangling themselves in the roots of his silky hair. You moaned out his name again, your voice coming out in such a promiscuous tone that he felt as if he was about to cum on the spot. God, Taehyung loved hearing the effect he had on you. “I’m close.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered against your ear. His voice was so hoarse, so permeated by desire, that you knew that he was holding back too. His cock was hard and throbbing against your legs, and every minor movement of your thigh against his erection was enough for him to lose his breath for a moment. “But I don’t want you to cum, not yet.”

Again, he pulled away.

Taehyung wanted you to complain, to whine about the lack of contact or the warmness of his body — and so, just because you knew that it was his plan, you didn’t do any of that.

You didn’t say a word as he moved his fingers away from your wetness, his other hand coming down to grope your ass. You didn’t flinch when he looked you deep inside your eyes, guiding his fingers between your lips, watching as your mouth obediently took them in, humming as you sucked your own wetness, never breaking eye contact.

“Fuck,” he cursed, drowing in the sensation of your warm tongue licking his fingers. You didn’t think that Taehyung was fully aware of the way that his hips had rolled against yours, fighting for relief. “You’re so fucking hot, it’s unreal.”

And you knew that he said that praise to every poor soul that crossed his path, but it still managed to have some effect on you. Again: you were human, and Taehyung knew what the fuck he was doing.

But so did you.

Before he could try and do anything else, you pressed your palms against his chest, gently pushing him a few steps away from you. Taehyung followed your lead, watching as you got down to your knees, facing his erection.

In measured, lackadaisical movements, you pressed your lips against his covered cock, feeling its handness against your mouth. Air got stuck in Taehyung’s throat as he watched you, like a hungry lion, as you undid his pants and pulled them down, gifting you with the sight of his white boxers.

Just because you knew he liked it, you moaned at the glorious sight of his big, heavy cock already so hard and ready for you; fingers caressing the tip of his member, where a small stain of precum already started to form. Taehyung was so on the edge that he hissed at the contact, one of his hands meeting the back of your head in a mindless impulse. “Don’t tease,” he warned.

“Oh, so you can and I can’t?” You leaned your head to the side, and planted a kiss on his cock before looking up at him. May the heavens have mercy on you, because you never saw Taehyung so pissed off and turned on at the same time. “I think I could even make you cum like this if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Don’t you dare,” he struggled to get out.

“What? You liked when I did that the other times,” you cooled. “Sometimes you didn’t even need my mouth.”

He closed his eyes, trying to fight the moan that started to climb up his throat. “Stop.”

“What? You don’t remember?” You asked, placing another kiss on his member, closer to tip that time. “When I let you grind against my ass in the library? You came just by humping me, pants and all.”

With a cute smile, your hand squeezed his dick, before moving up and down, following its thick outline. Taehyung was dumbfounded, left to watch as your delicate hands worked on his erection with unbearable patience, his eyes glued to every action that you made — the fluttering of your eyelashes, the innocent gazes that you threw his way every time your lips met the cotton of his underwear. If you kept it up for long enough, he was sure he would cum all over his boxers.

Still, the gods above had heard his prayers, and Taehyung watched as you pulled his underwear down. Without a second of hesitation, you moaned as your tongue licked him all the way from the base to the top, lips enveloping his crown as you sucked on it ever so slightly.

“Oh, fuck,” he cried out, fingers pulling on your hairstrands. “That’s good, fuck.”

You hummed, content at his reaction, and pushed him deeper inside your warm mouth, one of your hands holding at the base of his cock. Beneath your other palm, you could feel as the muscles of his thigh tensed up at the sensation. His lips open slighlty, allowing for a long, erotic moan to echo inside the bathroom as you started to set a pace, sucking him slowly, just like you knew it drove him mad.

“You’re so fucking good at this, baby,” Taehyung groaned, unable to keep his eyes open for much longer. The vision of him was ethereal: head thrown back, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows forming an expression of sheer pleasure and concentration. You cursed your own eyes as they started to water, preventing you from watching him a bit further. “Oh, that’s right, just like that.. you suck me so well, fuck.”

The pulsating, unsatisfied sensation of need between your thighs only grew, your walls clenching around nothing and your heart beating fast against your chest. You could taste as his precum leaked inside your mouth, his fragmented breaths and whines showing you that Taehyung also wasn’t made of steel. As much as you’d like to see him cum soon, you also needed to be taken care of.

After a particularly hard suck, you pulled your mouth away from his member, and looked up at him. The lack of contact was all that Taehyung needed to open his eyes and stare down at you, surprised at the interruption of his pleasure.

“Taehyung,” you tried your best to make your voice sound as pure and sensual as you could. His eyes widened slightly at the sound — no matter how hard he tried to make it seem like he was annoyed by that saint act of yours, you knew that it drove him insane. “I want you to fuck me now, please.”

You watched as his face presented a thousand emotions at the same time, and then eventually settled on the cool, controlled dominance you adored so much. Another surge of pleasure ran down your body, much stronger this time, and the feeling of your soaked panties against your pussy was making you go insane with anticipation.

“I love it when you ask politely.” He placed his hand on your chin, trailing your lower lip with his thumb. “Get up, baby,” he commanded.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you did as you were told, letting your body be guided by his large hands.

Taehyung turned you around and leaned you against the sink, positioning himself behind you. “Back to me, ass up,” he said, “Keep it like this, alright?”

You nodded, unsure that you could say anything else.

“Good girl.” Taehyung once again held your chin up, making you stare at your own reflection in the mirror for a second before your eyes traveled towards his. God, he was an absolute mess. In the best of ways. “I want you to look at it.”

Any second now, your legs would give out and you would crash down on the floor — or, at least, that’s the sensation you had. It was unbearable to watch as Taehyung took his time removing his shirt; then your skirt and your panties, dripping them down your legs one by one, his mouth so deliciously close to your heat that you felt like you could faint.

“So pretty,” he mumbled to himself, watching your pussy with desire. “So fucking wet.”

“I want to feel you, please.” You arched your back, throwing your hips closer to his.

“Like this, baby?” With a glorious roll of his hips against yours, you felt as his cock moved in between your folds, his head only touching your clit slightly. The sensation alone was enough to make you perk your ass up at him, a motion that wasn’t left unnoticed by his part.

He smirked at your reaction. “Such a pure little thing, aren’t you?” Taehyung’s hands palmed your ass, moving like snakes towards your waist, where they held you in place. Another roll of his hips and the contact of his dick against your clit made your knees buckle. “You’re so polite, just asking for my cock again and again… You don’t even notice how wet you get thinking about it, grinding against it. Isn’t that so?”

You had no option but to agree, lowering your head to look at the marble sink beneath you. “Yeah,” your voice came out in a pathetic whine, but you couldn’t even care about it. You just wanted to feel him inside you. “It’s all for you, Taehyung.”

“Good girl,” he praised, taking one of his hands to guide his cock towards your opening. Expectant, you held your breath, but he didn’t slide in just yet. “Just tell me what you want, come on.” Again, he leaned in and pushed your chin up. “And look at me while you say that.”

Obediently, you did. Taehyung was a greek god then. Under the pale yellow lights of the bathroom, his lips were swollen and red, the lower one being bit lightly by his teeth; his entire expression permeated by lust as he dove into the sensation of his cock teasing your entrance. He stared at you like you were good enough to eat, his eyes coruscating with so much hunger that you couldn’t even think about anything else but him. No wonder you kept coming back. His entire presence was engulfing every fiber of your being.

Maybe Kim Taehyung did have a golden dick, after all.

“I want you to fuck me, Taehyung,” a sentence had never been so clear, so sincere. From the corner of your eye, you could see your own face, desperate and pleading, as you fumbled closer to his member. “Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

With a hum, he kissed the nape of your neck. “Whatever my girl wants.”

And, before you could even think about his words, your thoughts were broken as you moaned out his name, feeling as his big cock stretched you, hitting all the right spots. You had missed that sensation so much, of being so full of him, so hypnotized by the movements of his body against yours, that you didn’t even compute the shuddering breath that departed from his mouth, nor the curse that he had let out once he felt the warmness of your walls around his aching member.

He thought he could lose his last ounces of sanity as he pulled out just enough to leave only his tip in, before throwing his lips against yours and filling you back up. Soon enough, Taehyung was setting a rhythm, unable to control his comments as he kept thrusting inside you.

“So tight, baby,” he spoke in a whisper, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear it. His face in the mirror was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen: Taehyung was so lost in pleasure that his features had morphed into an expression of sheer bliss; all of his concentration directed at the movements of your body, the way that your walls held him with so much desire. “You take my cock so well… Shit, you’re making me go crazy.”

Taehyung’s breath quivered and he leaned his body towards you, fighting for balance. He had one of his hands on your waist, and the other was holding down to the sink, leveling his figure as he started to thrust into you in that different angle — just as slow, hard and deep as he had promised.

You rolled your head back once he hit the right spot inside you, your moans going up an octave. “Fuck, right there, Taehyung,” you whined, barely aware of the volume of your voice. To hell with it, the music was too loud anyways. “There, right there, don’t stop.”

“Here?” He groaned, thrusting in the exact place that made you cry out. “That’s it, baby, let it out.”

And you wanted to prolong that moment for as long as you could, but, truth was, he had played around with you enough that you knew you wouldn’t last much. Even sucking his cock, feeling as he mumbled and trembled under your touches, had been enough to keep you turned on. Again: you were only human, and the paradisiacal feeling of Taehyung’s cock filling you up to the brim, hitting your sweet spot with forceful thrusts, was a bit more than you could endure.

“Taehyung, I think I’m close,” you told him, feeling as your arms grew weaker beneath you. It was just a matter of time before your legs started shaking too. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Shh, that’s fine, baby.” He moved your hair away from your back, placing a trail of sloppy kisses on your shoulders. “Come on, cum around my cock. I want to feel you.”

“It’s so big, Taehyung,” you moaned, closing your eyes in defeat. You could tell that your pleasure was already building up too much, too fast. You couldn’t help it: he was stretching you so fantastically that every part of you was on overdrive, the pent-up tension of the entire night culminating in one long, edging orgasm.

“It’s all yours, baby, all of it,” he told you, guiding you towards your high. God, his voice was so hoarse, so sweet. “Cum for me, okay? And don’t hold back, I want to hear you.”

Just like that, you came with a loud moan and the calling of his name in a repetitive prayer, walls clenching around him in a way that made him lose his grip on reality. You whimpered at the pleasure, that now was gradually subsiding, and lowered your body against the marble, feeling how cold it was, how different it was from the rest of the bathroom.

“That’s it, baby, yeah… That was so fucking hot.” Taehyung groaned behind you, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was moving you so hard that you could feel your hip bones being pressed against the corners of the marble surface, the dirty sound of wetness and skin against skin filling the ambient. “Look at all this… so wet and tight, even after coming so hard.”

From the way that Taehyung’s movements started to get sloppier, you could tell that he was losing himself in his own sense of pleasure, getting closer to his own climax. “All of this… all for me,” he moaned out, eyes glued to the motion of his cock coming in and out of your dripping center. “You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I could have you like this forever.”

The pounding of his hips against your ass was getting so intense that you could feel tears accumulating at the corners of your eyes, fingers trembling under the weight of overstimulation. Taehyung had fucked you hard before, but you just couldn’t get used to how fantastic it felt.

“I’m close,” he cried out behind you, his breath coming out in broken, tremulous expirations. “Can I cum on your mouth, baby? I want to see you swallow everything.”

You nodded, mouth salivating at the thought.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “That’s my girl.”

Taehyung pulled away from you and you moved fast, getting back down on your knees as he guided his cock, so red and swollen, against your lips.

You opened your mouth to accommodate him, taking his member slowly at first, thinking it would be better to adjust to its size. After that part was done — and Taehyung had already turned into a quivering mess above you — you proceeded to move your head, sucking his cock as hard as you could muster.

“That’s right, suck it,” he moaned, buckling his hips forward. The tip of his cock touched the back of your throat and you gagged, presenting Taehyung with one of the most gorgeous views he had seen all night. “Fuck, yeah— Take everything, baby, come on.”

You did, of course. You continued to suck Taehyung with a moderate pace — not so slow that it would kill him, but not so fast that it would kill you — and watched as he started to become undone under your touches. First, it were his trembling thighs, then the weakening of his grip on his head. You looked up at him with blurry eyes and watched as his lips fell open, moaning obscenities, and his eyes closed with intense concentration. It was just a matter of time before he—

“F-fuck!”

Taehyung spilled in your mouth and you struggled to swallow everything, just like he had told you to, whining at the feeling of his cock throbbing and twitching in between your lips. The discomfort between your thighs had resumed, pulsating inside your core in a silent need, but you didn’t think you’d have the stamina to deal with it right then and there.

You pulled your head away from his cock when he started wincing with sensitivity. With doll-like eyes, you met his hooded ones, glad to see the satisfaction and appreciation that was plastered all across his face. He always looked so good after sex, you realized, and you felt extremely satisfied to know that his fucked-out, blissful expression was all because of you.

In a gentle motion, Taehyung placed his thumb on your check, cleaning a bit of his cum, and brought it over to your lips. “You missed this bit,” he said.

You sucked his thumb clean without thinking twice, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable your knees felt. Above you, Taehyung smirked at the sensation of your mouth around his thumb, his other hand coming to place small caresses on your hair.

After he removed his thumb from your mouth, you got back to your feet. It crossed your mind that your legs might give out eventually, but, thankfully, they seemed a bit more firm than you had anticipated. “Better?” You asked.

“Perfect.” Taehyung kissed you, sighing against your mouth. He pulled away gradually, his body still moving a bit slow after everything you two had done. “You always are.”

“Aw, how nice of you.” You smiled at his compliment, walking towards your pile of clothes. The bathroom was starting to get cold, and the afterglow of sex couldn’t keep you warm for much longer. “Always with the compliments.”

He hummed in agreement, watching your naked body; your fingers holding that red bra he adored so much. “Any chance I could see you again this week?”

An incredulous laugh ruptured your lips as you clasped your bra behind your back. “We just had sex, and you’re already thinking about the next time?”

He shrugged. “I like to have a schedule.”

“I’ll think about it.” Your skirt moved up your legs, all the way up to your waistline. From the corner of your eyes, you could see as Taehyung fumbled with his own pants, which he now cursed for being inside out. Seems like he was only thoughtful when it came to your wardrobe. “It’s not like we usually know when this stuff is going to happen.”

There was a slight tremble in your fingertips as you reached for your blouse and placed it back on your body, but you decided to ignore it.

“I guess,” he mumbled.

You stared at your own reflection in the mirror as you started to close your buttons, somewhat amazed by the fact that it didn’t appear like you just had had sex. Yeah, your hair was all over the place, and maybe your neck was a bit too red in a few spots, but nothing that a bit of time wouldn’t fix. Could’ve been worse.

“Can you pass me some toilet paper?” You asked him, eager to clean the mess between your legs. There was no way in hell you were going to put your panties back on, even if the thought of going commando wasn’t exactly the most welcoming either.

Taehyung was sitting on the toilet lid, putting his pants back, and simply nodded in agreement before doing so. “I’d like to know, though,” he insisted.

You smiled, taking a cheeky glance at him. “Since when you’re so needy?”

He groaned. “I’m not needy, shut up”

“Well… You have my number.” You responded, throwing the paper in the trash after you had finished cleaning yourself up. “Call me whenever you’re feeling like it, and I’ll see what I can do.”

He pouted, clearly frustrated at the answer. “And what if you can’t make it?”

“Then you have two good hands to help you,” you answered simply, fingers working on adjusting your hair. The sound of his zipper closing echoed inside the cubicle. “Besides.. you can have this as a memory, if you’d like.”

You threw your red panties at him, watching as his face grew interested at the piece of wet cloth in his hands. Taehyung sighed, tugging his shirt back inside his pants. “You’re killing me,” he complained.

“Good.” You smiled, turning back at him. “How do I look? Presentable?”

He examined you for an instant, taking in the details of your form. “It doesn’t look like you just got fucked, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Great!” You swirled around, giving the mirror a last peek. You were getting suspiciously good at making it seem like you two never happened. “Have a nice night, Taehyung. Maybe wait like five minutes before leaving the bathroom. And don’t get too excited with the panties.”

Taehyung got up and walked closer to you, your underwear safely guarded in his hands. You were positive he would have fun with it later. “You’re going home already?” He asked.

“Yeah, you did a good job at making me tired.” The clicking of the lock was a pleasant reminder that no one tried to open the door during that time, so maybe your sexual shenanigans had been overlooked once again. “So don’t worry. I’m in need of a good night of sleep. I’m not spending any time with your horny friends.”

Taehyung chuckled, leaning closer to you. “I was kind of exaggerating about that Jimin part for dramatic effect, but alright.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Good night. Thanks for the panties.”

You laughed. “You’re welcome.”

Just like that, you were out the door, and the moments you had shared in that bathroom with Taehyung had been placed inside a capsule. No one noticed you as you walked through the corridor, past the few strangers still around, and down the stairs, where the party had clearly lost its initial olympian proportions.

Cups and pieces of paper were thrown all over the floor, and you watched as people stumbled around, trying to find some sort of balance against the walls. No matter how many Hoseok Parties you went to, you were always amazed at the way that they were quick to be set ablaze, but equally quick to burn off. It was like premature ejaculation, in the weirdest and saddest of ways.

Still, you weren’t expecting to see a recognizable face at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hyejin,” you called, surprised to see your friend around. “Thought you would’ve gone to bed with Hoseok by now.”

Seeming as dumbfounded as you, she followed your movements as you walked down the terminal steps, finally reaching the first floor of the house. There was a weird shadow of discomfort casted over her features, and you thought it had something to do with Hoseok. “Uh… Not really,” she told you. “I just want to go home, actually.”

“You and I both.” You placed one of your arms around her shoulder, guiding her towards the front door. “Let’s go, this place has already peaked, anyway.”

She suspired, her lips pouting. “Thanks.”

A few minutes of silence expanded between the two of you as you walked out of the house and into the front lawn, where a sea of trash had already taken over a few chunks of grass. You didn’t know how or why, but someone had brought an inflatable pool, and there was only one solitary purple dildo swimming in it. What a sad sea creature, you thought, before your attention was pulled back to your friend.

Hyejin switched uncomfortably in your arms, hugging her own body in a way to shield herself from the gelid breeze of the night. You looked at her with care, watching as her face contorted at sight of the street lights, magnifying the odd expression that had taken over her. “Tell me what happened between you two,” you asked tenderly. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

Your friend hesitated and, suddenly, you felt bad for pressuring her. At the same time, you were worried that something bad had happened. “Yeah… so… apparently he thought he was texting a different person,” she told you. You could tell that she was having a hard time speaking. “It was kind of a mess, actually. He said that in front of everyone. I’m glad you weren’t there to see it.”

Suddenly, you recognized that expression as being pure, unshakable humiliation. That must’ve been an ugly moment, really, since Hyejin wasn’t one to break easily. The booze probably didn’t help her emotional state either.

“Hyejin, I’m so sorry. He really is a fucking idiot for treating you like that.” You squeezed her body against yours in an awkward sideways hug. She eased into your touch, shoulders falling under the weight of your comforting words. “That really sucks. We can find a way to kill him, if you want. I’d hide the body and never talk about it again.”

Even if she chuckled at the idea, you could tell she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Yeah… I don’t think I want to talk about that right now.” She cleared her throat, hugging her own body with a bit more force. The car was just a few steps away from the two of you, and you were beyond glad that you had managed to find a spot so close to the house. “Anyways… there’s something else. I went to find you earlier, when it all went down, so we could go home.”

You pressed your lips together, guilt hitting you like a punch in the gut. “Sorry, I was upstairs.”

“Yeah, I realized that once I didn’t find you,” she continued. Hyejin’s voice was weak, her syllables slightly disconnected. She often spoke like that once intoxication and exhaustion joined in a horrible after-party dance. “I went up and searched around for you, but I… uh…”

The two of you finally reached the vehicle, and you removed your arm from around her so you could move towards the driver’s side. You frowned at her hesitation, watching her over the roof of the car. “What is it?” You asked.

“I needed to use the bathroom…” she trailed off. Her tone was almost inaudible. “And I…”

You opened your purse, squinting your eyes to try and find the car key amidst the dimly-lit street. “And?”

“The door was locked.” She gawked at you, eyes suddenly growing serious. You didn’t like drunk-Hyejin, with her unstable moods and abrupt expression switches. It was watching a horror movie sometimes. “Because you were in there.”

Oh, you seriously didn’t want to have that conversation at that moment.

Finally, you found the key and unlocked the car. The sound was like a gunshot through the night, your pulse starting to pick up the pace. You knew where she was heading towards now, but it’s not like she could be sure that it was you in there. You’d deny until the end of time.

“What makes you think that it was me?” You questioned, opening the door.

This time, she didn’t hesitate to respond. “I heard you.”

Oh. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

Keep your cool. It’s okay. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You don’t?” She started to raise her voice, clearly pissed off. You two were arriving at stage two of drunk Hyejin: past the sad introspection, and into banshee level. “I had to pee on the disgusting bathroom downstairs because you were fucking someone in there! I had to wait twenty minutes in line! And you lied to me! You told me you didn’t have a dick appointment!”

“Shhh! Stop yelling!” You asked, exasperated. The night was too cold and the streets were too empty. You just wanted to go home before someone heard you. All that it needed was one half-assed comment from Taehyung about him going to the upstairs bathroom, plus someone interested enough to connect the dots, and your little secret would be up. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, okay? Now, please, get in the car, you’re super drunk.”

Before Hyejin could protest, which you were sure she would, you sank down on your seat, running away from her judgemental semblance. The thought of just driving off in sheer panic crossed your mind, but you quickly ignored it. You couldn’t leave her alone in that place, especially in the inebriated state she was in. No matter how much you really, really wanted to.

Your friend followed your lead and sat down on the passenger seat, watching as you closed your door and checked the mirrors, avoiding her gaze with all your might. She sighed. “I don’t understand… Why didn’t you go somewhere else for that? People need to pee, you know? Or, I don’t know, puke… or maybe even—“

You threw your purse on the backseat, sighing in exasperation. That conversation was the last thing you needed after that night. “I don’t think it matters right now—“

“It does matter! I could’ve gotten a urinary tract infection.” Hyejin banged the door by her side, and you could tell she simply wasn’t measuring her force right. She groaned, lazily adjusting her body on the seat. “Now, you have to tell me who it was. It’s the minimum you can do.”

You almost choked on your own saliva. She really was out of it. “Like I’d ever do something like that.”

Silence grew thick inside the car, falling above you like a blanket. Hyejin looked at you like you had just grown a second head, making sure that she wasn’t drunk enough to imagine you flat-out denying her an information so valuable. To be fair, it wasn’t like you to avoid questions or keep names from her — at least, not so openly. You knew that she wasn’t dumb, and that she could tell that something was up even in her intoxicated state.

“You’re really not gonna say?” She tried again, still struggling to keep her speech tied together. It was only a matter of time before she calmed down and fell asleep, and so you wouldn’t have to deal with that subject any further. “You almost gave me an UTI, and now you’re not gonna say who you were with? I need to know if it was worth keeping the bathroom all to yourself, because I already told you, someone probably went up there trying to—“

“Shit, Hyejin! I get it, you, can stop now.” You clicked your seatbelt with a bit more aggression than necessary. “You’re drunk right now.”

You leaned over her and placed her seatbelt too, since you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. Not with that poor movement precision.

“And?” She pressed on as you moved back to your seat. “You’re going to tell me once I’m sober or something?”

You laughed, placing one of your hands on the wheel. “No, of course not.”

“Fine!” She crossed her arms dramatically and looked out of the window, pouting like a child. “I hate you for not saying.”

“Well, I love you.” You looked at her, your own gaze navigating towards the window. Beyond the fogged glass, the house glowed in the most diverse colors, the sound of the bass reverberating inside your car like a distant pulse. You watched, heart clenching inside of your chest, as Taehyung stepped out of the front door with Jimin, his head hanging low and a smile at the corner of his lips. There was a volume at his front pocket, where you were sure he had tugged in your panties. “But now I think that we should go home and sleep. Let’s keep this conversation on hold.”

Hyejin, however, wasn’t satisfied. “You know that I’ll find out eventually,” she said, still looking out of the window. “I always do.”

You chuckled, turning on the engine of the car. On the other side of the street, the two boys took the opposite direction, leaving you two to stare at the open road before you. “Well, I’d love to see you try.”

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #kim taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #bts x you #bts x reader #reader insert #taehyung imagines #bts v #fuckboy taehyung #fratboy taehyung #college au #one shot

2K notes · View notes

ptergwen · 3 years

Text

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #marvel

696 notes · View notes

broccoliboix5peepeeman · 2 years

Text

An amazing submission from @i-am-definitely-not-straight!

Shoto sighed. Something was wrong. The usually comforting rustling of pages hurt his ears. It sounded too loud in the cozy silence, and he was hardly able to catch the meaning of what he was reading, while skimming lazily along the lines. Something was wrong, and it made the inside feel weird.

Shoto gave up and put the book aside. He leaned back on the pillows, still lazily looking around the room. Everything inside his head was confused, like puzzle pieces that weren't matching, forcing him to frown. It felt weird. Blankets were warm and soft, but this was not enough. The silence was cozy, but at the same time ringing, somehow getting on his nerves instead of calming him down. Just exactly what you need for a sticky feeling of anxiety to start boiling inside. Relaxation bordered on heaviness in the body. Something was wrong and it worried.

A soft rustle and a sigh was heard from the side, and Shoto turned towards the sound. Its source brought a faint smile on his face.

Izuku was laying on his side, turned away from him, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Green curls were scattered on the pillow, and Shoto could imagine how he removed the most disobedient strands that reached his eyes with a slight frown. The smile became a little wider. Something was still wrong and it was time to fix it.

He reached out to the side and gently touched the strong shoulder. As if on test, and then more confidently, he ran his hand along muscular back, receiving a satisfied sigh in response. Gentle strokes got Izuku to relax even more, and he was melting under the warm touch. Shoto lifted his hand higher, buried his fingers in messy curls, again causing their owner to almost purr. Then he moved closer, now placing his hand on Izuku's stomach, and tenderly hugged him from behind. Shoto placed a gentle kiss on his boyfriend's shoulder and rested his forehead somewhere between the shoulder blades. The tips of his ears slowly turned pink.

"I love you too," Izuku's voice was slightly louder than a whisper. He covered Shoto's hand with his own and squeezed affectionately. Even without looking at his face, Shout almost felt the usual bright smile.

Now everything was all right. The way it should be.

***

HC that Shoto's love language is physical affection, and all his small gestures are silent 'I love you's, because words are too hard sometimes. Fortunately, Izuku has learnt to read his boyfriend a long time ago and never misses his affectionate confessions.

This small drabble is mostly inspired by your blog and fics! Thank you so much for everything you do, it really makes me (and I believe everyone who's ever read your works) very happy. Writers like you make the tododeku fandom a pleasant comfortable place, and readers like me would never be able to express how much it actually means💛💞💛💞

This was beautiful, thank you so much for sharing this! Physical affection being Shoto's love language is so soft. I love that Izuku immediately understands and uses his own love language (words of affirmation) to return the gesture. Your writing is so tender ^^

And also, thank you for your kind words! It really means a lot that I can provide a comfortable space in quite a... choatic fandom, to say the least. I hope I can continue to be able to make people happy with my work 💖

#submission #tododeku #fluff #todoroki shoto #midoriya izuku #todomido #todoizu #dekutodo #izushou #lovely people #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #long post

74 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS

that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.

Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.

Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.

You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.

Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…

Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.

Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?

They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once.

You’re convinced.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.

It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.

Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.

Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.

“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.

It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.

Little by little.

Jungkook grew up.

And became harder and harder to ignore.

Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.

You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.

That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.

You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.

Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.

It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.

In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.

Might as well take a picture, right?

And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.

You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though.

Dammit.

Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday.

Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.

He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...

what the fuck

You had asked him if he liked your post today.

I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.

Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again.

Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see.

Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.

Noona?! WHAT???

And then a slew of head exploding emojis.

Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.

Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Dammit.

You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance.

This just wasn’t allowed.

This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you.

With both arms.

Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.

"You smell different."

"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly.

"Mhm."

You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.

"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.

"Someone might notice."

"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."

He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head.

"Excuse me?"

You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

You smirked.

"Surprise."

Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.

The front door opened.

Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.

"Hyung?"

Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger.

"Ah, Jungkookie."

Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose.

Danger.

"Hey, noona!"

Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.

"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow.

Jungkook's eyes went wide.

"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing.

The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up.

Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram.

Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos.

Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good.

No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left.

"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face.

Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!

You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you.

"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.

"Hmm..."

Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips.

"This is your fault too, by the way."

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"

You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."

Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl.

"What does it do to you?"

Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice.

"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."

...

!!!

How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair.

"You smell different," he murmured.

You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine.

"Warm, sweet, and spicy."

Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."

Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."

You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.

"Sounds dangerous," you mused.

"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.

"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.

"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting.

Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!

"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.

A sculpted brow lifted.

"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts.

"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.

How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.

Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.

“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”

You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.

“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”

Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.

“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”

His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.

“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”

“T-That’s not…”

Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.

“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”

Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.

“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.

No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.

So...

Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.

Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you.

He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie.

"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"

You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes.

"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"

Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination.

"Never."

Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close.

So close.

Ruin me.

He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.

Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely.

"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"

You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."

Jungkook made a disgruntled noise.

"Hey, public health and safety is important."

He pouted at you. "But..."

"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.

"Hyung…!"

Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused.

"He's been jacking off to your pictures."

"N-no, I haven't!"

"Really? I have."

Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not.

Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.

"Noona..."

"And you?"

You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you.

I want to ruin you.

Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.

However.

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow.

Jungkook was here now.

Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk.

"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."

You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin.

"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.

You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.

"Stay still."

Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.

"Yoon–ah!"

You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.

Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.

Let go.

Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.

“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.

You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.

“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”

Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.

“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”

Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.

“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”

You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.

“Fuck!”

You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.

It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.

It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.

“Do you think you’re done?”

You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”

“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”

You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”

Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?

Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.

Riiiiiiip!

“Yoongi!”

The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.

“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”

Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.

But, also, this was why you wore it today.

You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.

“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.

“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.

Were you… going to remember?

Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.

“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”

He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.

“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.

“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.

“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”

“What?!”

You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.

“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.

You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.

“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.

“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”

“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.

“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”

“Wha–”

The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.

“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.

If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.

Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.

“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”

You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.

Hot, wet, positively sinful.

The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.

You did ask to be ruined.

Just… a little more.

Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.

“I love you…”

You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Still want more?”

You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.

“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”

You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”

“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.

“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”

“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.

“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.

“Wha– ack!”

You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.

“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.

You grinned.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”

Jungkook grinned back at you.

You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.

“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.

“I will, hyung.”

“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”

You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”

Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”

“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”

You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.

Perfect.

You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.

“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”

You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.

“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”

And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.

It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.

“A-ah, n-noona…”

Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.

“Fuck, I love you two…”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.

“Romantic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mmm.”

He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.

“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.

“Noona?”

“Hm?”

Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.

“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.

“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.

You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”

“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.

“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.

“Jungkookie?”

“Hm, noona?”

You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.

“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”

“… Hah?”

“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”

Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.

part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #suga x you #suga x reader

730 notes · View notes

all-things-fic · 3 years

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

A/N - Hello, you lovely lot! Hope you are all keeping well in these utterly shit Covid times. Who would’ve thought that we would still be here in December?! Please see my offering for @goldenbluesuit‘s Christmas Fic Challenge. Hope I’ve done a bit of justice with this piece.

I can remember Katie texting me telling me about the challenge, and I’ll admit I was given first dibs and now I’m absolutely shitting myself because I’ve seen all the brillaint entries so far and I’m not sure I really cut the mustard with this piece but I’m proud of myself for being able to put a solid 70% of this together in just one day (that one day being today).

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Katie has done a brilliant job and I know how grateful she is towards anyone who has joined the challenge or supported by reading/sharing etc.... I need to stop rambling... Okay, thank you for sticking with me as always and happy reading! .x

***

The last thing you remembered actually reading in the group chat was “make sure you have your wellies”. You were glad that you remembered that part at the very least.

Winds whipped around you as you buried your face further into your cream roll neck cable knit jumper, all but hidden underneath your tobacco borg teddy coat that someone had already likened to Macklemore.

Nothing like being back home with your closest and oldest friends.

Mud squelched under your feet as you walked in line with two of your oldest girl friends, eyes looking over the four males in front of you as they led the way over the grassy hills.

There had been zero planning on what today’s events would bring. It was quite clear that the seven of you just wanted to be reunited with the country air and wind bitten cheeks.

It was nice. How simple it was. On the surface at the very least. That was until you zoned in on the little things.

Like his laugh. The same laugh that always carried somehow and it seemed like the wind was making it that much more prominent than usual today.

There was no denying, he had this glow about him. Even from the back of him. You felt silly for thinking it, but it was true. It was in the way he held himself as he attacked the grassy hills with his feet clad wellies and brown trousers.

Life had changed a lot in over a decade. Christ, had it been that long? You’d all gone from baby teenagers to fully fledged adults. The age range of your friendship differing slightly, the odd person here and there slightly older than a couple of people in the group.

Nonetheless, many of the experiences had been the same. The big job offers, and the even bigger promotions. The heartbreaks, regardless of their prominence or lack of, had been the felt the same. The flirtation between some of you sparked probably a bit more so now with a finesse that didn’t have you rolling your eyes but rather leaning into it.

Four out of seven of you were single. Jack and Jonny were virtually married off, however neither of them were with their partners this year with both deciding to spend Christmas at home and New Years with their significant others. Alice was still loved up and going strong with her fella, as was Grace who you hadn’t heard a peep from as she constantly checked her phone to see when the person she was besotted with finally arrived up North thanks to West Midlands Trains pulling into Crewe.

So that left Will, you and Harry. Harry who had quite publicly made it known that he was single. Well, according to your Mum he had, in several interviews. Including the one that she had described as an ‘incredibly relaxing watch and nice background noise to my Sunday evening brew and ironing session’.

That was a strange one for you, his honesty. In earlier years of friendship, he always seemed quite aloof. Like he was keeping his options open. Guarded in a way that frustrated at least 75% of the friendship group, in the nicest way possible. You knew that was a contradiction but any annoyance came from a good place.

You remembered one night in 2014 when he wouldn’t quite give you a straight answer over tequila shots whether he was shagging someone or not. You also remember the way he’d been pulled away from you tactfully by Alice that night when she sensed how you were about to blow up at his lackadaisical attitude.

The same had been felt in 2016. Not so much in 2018, but you weren’t single then so maybe you just didn’t care.

2019 was significantly different though.

See the thing was, you knew him now. Like, knew knew him.

Some would think it was a lapse of judgment, a reading that you would agree upon given what had happened two days prior if ever prodded about it publicly.

Others would vehemently disagree. Stating how long any sort of energy between the two of you had been bubbling for a number of years.

Looking back you couldn’t even understand why you’d attended his show. You lived in Camden and it made sense, but that’s where the sense stopped. Even the ways he had reached out had been one of the most random messages you’d received from him

There was no context, just a simple ‘I’m playing the Electric Ballroom and there’s tickets waiting for you if you want ‘em.’

And the thing was, you loved that venue. The grungy-ness of it all. The way you had stuck to the floor while trying to dance along to the likes of The Hives and Kings of Leon when seeing them playing there, basking in your sweaty happiness.

But the stickiness of the floor and sweatiness of the room didn’t compare to the stickiness and sweatiness you later found yourself partaking in as Harry took you from behind over the side of his couch.

A shiver rolled through you at the thought, one that you would blame on the December bitter chill because it was a secret. One that neither of you had mentioned since it happened on Thursday night, or to be technically correct the early hours of Friday morning.

He’d been good. Of course he had been.

He had that way about him that night that pulled you under a false sense of endeared security. From his dimpled smile to gleaming eyes. He was happy.

And the way he had shone as he found you on the balcony had warmed you like nothing you had known in the longest time.

It caused you to forget about the worry that had laden you limbs as you turned up at 9.13pm to the wooden doors of the building, wondering how many songs he was in to the set as you convinced yourself he would start at 9.00pm.

As you’d been ushered over to a clear box window and uttered your name to a dorky looking man wearing a tracksuit pull over and watched him handover a white envelope through the circle hatch.

You stood in the dark, next to two much younger girls who enjoyed the way his glances lingered over at their side. Eyes had found Gemma in the opposite corner of the balcony, her dancing and singing with some recognisable faces mainly more so because you had seen them on social media.

You, however, kept yourself to yourself. Until you were anchored in the tightest hug from Gemma that you had ever felt from her and swayed from side to side as she made it known how pleased she was to see you once the concert was over.

That familiarity had been nice. The vibrancy of nostalgia consuming you in your entirety.

Watching him work a room when he finally entered the after party was a sight to behold, in his navy blue pinstripe suit and yellow ‘I’m gonna die lonely’ t-shirt.

He wasn’t. Gonna die lonely, that is.

He glided so smoothly from one person to the next, spilling a drink down himself in the process you’d seen (and later felt when your hand clung to the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed), making time for everyone in his own unique way.

Big eyes followed you over Gemma’s shoulder when he had finally found himself within your circle and hugged his sister once more that evening. They were hard to read but also openly filled with a glimmer of hope as he dropped his gaze to see what you were wearing.

And when he approached you, he hugged you in a way that managed to pull you into the darkened corner of the dingy space. Spinning your body to keep your face concealed from any prying eyes.

He revealed to you how he didn’t think you were going to turn up, scanning you with his gaze as he spoke. You did the same, a bit taken aback by just how attractive you were finding him. He had always been handsome but the aura he gave off, made your fingers itch to have him closer to you.

Words ran away from you that night as he begged and pleaded with you to tell him what your favourite song had been. Based on first impressions, which the show has been, then Canyon Moon and Watermelon Sugar had smothered you and given you no other option but to pick them.

If he were to ask you now you’d probably say To Be So Lonely, thanks to the drive home being longer than originally thought and said album being your choice of road trip music.

Forget Driving Home For Christmas, nothing slapped more than one of your closest friends admitting to being an arrogant son of a bitch.

After your chat, he mingled some more but Harry was always tactile and that night had been no different. He veered conversations with people you had never seen before to take place by the zone that you all occupied.

He actively kept his back against yours, allowing the faintest of touches and brushing of arms - sometimes hands too if he dropped them down heavily enough with his arms as he spoke - to entice and create a spark.

You were kept late enough to miss the last tube. Battery dangerously low on your phone that you didn’t know if a transaction with Uber would be worth a try.

Jumping into the same car as him had been easy. His soft and tired eyes findings yours in the cab as he leant his head back against the headrest in the back seat and let his lips tip upwards in an expression of tenderness that had you melting in your seat.

“‘S been a while since we’ve both been a bit pissed in the back of a taxi,” he mused, pushing his fallen locks out of his eyes to ensure his view of you wasn’t obscured. “Come an’ cuddle me like you used to do when we went out a’ home and were worse for wear.”

Falling into his side was almost second nature, eyes closing as you let your forehead rest against his jawline and let his worn in cologne fill you senses and scatter your judgment.

You don’t even remember how you ended up kissing that night. A mixture of confessions about missing each other and praise of how good you both were in your own ways. The sound of his whispered, “are you coming home wi’me?” against your lips an offer too good for you to refuse as you sat pressed into his side and half in his lap.

The giggles that night, around dramatic shushes as you tripped and shuffled from the car to his front door were almost haunting in your memory as he tried to chastise you around spluttered laughter about being respectful of his neighbours.

Getting the key in the lock proved unchallenging - one of the better analogies aligned to your memories and latter sexual endeavours - as you slipped into the house. He enjoyed watching the way you walked ahead of him into his home, not realising how much he needed that visual of seeing how well you fit in.

While time seemed to slow in that moment, movements desperately sought the opposite. Hands gripped and clawed like their lives depended upon it.

Looking back now, both he and you wished it hadn’t happened the way it did. Skirt lifted and over the side of his couch. Teeth clashing and hips knocking.

It had been every inch a drunken fumble. A first meeting slightly cheapened but wanted nonetheless. Only made even cheaper by the hush-hush concealing of it ever occurring.

But a secret it was and a secret it would remain.

And oh how you wished you had a pillow you could press you face into right now and scream, this time for an entirely different reason. Unlike that night.

“Not seen a sign of any deer yet, mate,” you heard a voice break you out of your indulgence of recollecting past events. Harry was the worst at wanting to get a reaction.

“Christ, have a bit of patience would yer?”

You smiled at the bickering, just like it always was as the River Dane could be heard in the distance somewhere as you walked. If you listened really close, that is.

Lifting your eyes, your smile lingered as you watched Harry spin his body around and let his hands get lost in the massive pockets of his parka. He walked backwards holding your gaze softly with his eyes twinkling before he gently rolled them at the overreaction and impatience of your friends.

He seemed pleased that you’d enjoyed his teasing as you once again hid you smile into your jumper.

You’d be alright.

***

You heard giggles and screams ahead of you as your friends stumbled in the dark and messed about as you got closer to the viaduct. This place or the people didn’t change, and at times while it filled you with a warm nostalgia, it could be heavily jarring.

A soft and lazy smile pulled at your lips as you felt his heavy forearm lightly tug you closer to him, his lips finding your hair. And then there was Harry.

“Think we should go this way m’self,” Harry mumbled, the nudge of his hips against yours had you stumbling slightly in your heels away from the direction of your friends and somewhere completely different.

“And why’s that?” You turned your face slightly, cheeks warm and flushed thanks to the mixture of alcoholic beverages; eyes glazed as they lifted up to look at him.

“Cause you never would’ve let me when I was sixteen,” he admitted.

“You didn’t ask.”

“‘M askin’ now.”

With slow blinking eyes, you looked at his own unfocused vision. A soft shine to his skin, hair blowing gently against his forehead. The softest of smiles tilted at your lips.

“On yer go,” he nudged you forward, this time more so with his crotch and his hands, which wrapped around your hips to help steer you. Harry was met with only a small amount of resistance from you as you split off from your friends and turned in the different direction.

You bit back your laugh, dropping your head slightly as you felt your heels started to sink into the grass as you walked. Harry was level with you when you sunk down noticing the way you legs slightly gave way, a soft chuckle omitting from his throat as he asked, “You alrigh’?”

“I’m sinking in these bloody things,” you grumbled, pulling your heel from the grass and trying to place the sole of your shoe onto the ground beneath you first.

“So much for no’ being able to take the country out o’ the girl. London’s changed yer, swear it.”

Shaking your head, you cut your eyes to give him a harsh stare for his wind up. His amused expression lit a fire in you like no other. He really wasn’t one to talk though, was he?

“Gi’me your hand ‘ere,” he held his out to you, quickly cupping it when you handed it over and pulled it under his bent elbow. “Remind me again who’s idea this was, eh?”

He didn’t need reminding, he had been one of the keen instigators for the whole jaunt down Twemlow Viaduct. It usually was him, or Jack. The two of them often reminiscing on times they had both raided their parents' alcohol cupboards and managed to sneak out with some dusty bottle that held a liquor that tasted out of date and stale, and if not that then, cheap.

“‘S still fucking freezing down ‘ere, in’it?” He asked, lifting his left hand up to his mouth and blowing against it to try and get some feeling back into his fingers.

“We’re so close to the river, I don’t know why you’d expect anything different?”

“Is this why everyone was always so insistent on necking anything with over 11% alcohol in it when we came down ‘ere as kids?”

“Probably,” you softly laughed.

“‘S a bit different now though innit?”

“Oh, I’m not so sure,” you started to correct him, shrugging your hand out from under his elbow and reaching for your bag. Quickly fumbling with the clasp, you lifted up the quilted flap and managed to pull out the stainless steel hip flask.

Harry cackled a harsh laugh, his eyes crinkling as he slowly let his laughter die down and softly let his joy wash over his features. “Impressive. Gone all proper on me.”

“You know I haven’t,” you held his eyes watching as he nervously cupped at the back of his neck for a short while, a gentle bite down of his bottom lip, as you quickly uncapped the item and held it out to him. He looked like he needed the courage. You continued, “We’re just a bit more refined, that and we earn a good living. Some more than others, and by some I mean you.”

He held his hand up towards you with an amused grin at your comment. “You first, ‘s yours after all.”

Lifting the item and knocking back your head, you swallowed the whiskey with a small grimace, before offering it to Harry once more. This time he accepted, his right hand making light work of taking the item from your hands and sipping at the contents.

His face wasn’t as contorted as your’s when he swallowed, a fan of the chosen beverage if needs must. “‘S the proper stuff, tha’ is,” he commented with a quick lick of his lips before continuing, “Come a long way from sneaking the bottles of dusty Blossom Hill from the back of the cupboard.”

“Don’t know about that,” you smiled, taking the item and pushing it back into your bag. “I’d still drink if, if it were on offer.”

“‘M sure Mum’s got a bottle or two going at home?”

“Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” You paused. “Again.”

Harry remained silent at your words. Both you and he knew it was going to happen. A mixture of sparks and lovelorn, lingering glances was enough to make anyone both want to give up, while also giving a burning confidence usually unknown.

Neither of you expected it would be you who started the conversation, however.

“It is, ‘f it’s gonna work. ‘M not sure I could wait any longer t’be’onest wi’yer.“

Laughing, you reached up to push at his shoulder. He always knew exactly what to say, but no way was he going to make a laughing stock of the whole thing. “Oh, give over,” you spoke, harshly swallowing when he kept your hand against the thick cable knit black jumper he had on. “You’ve made it this far, thus far just fine.”

“‘M not playin’,” he whispered, hand gently curling around your own and lifting it up to press against his face. His cheeks were warm underneath the cooler hands, despite the cold night whipping around you both and your mind quickly wondered if he was just as embarrassed for his lack of acknowledgment as you had been. “Homes nice, you’re nicer.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” you let your soft voice get taken by the wind.

“An’ what gave you tha’ impression?”

He did. He gave you that impression. By not mentioning it. By treating you how he always did.

“You.”

“Me?” Harry responded, indignantly, blowing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing out underneath your hand. “‘M not doing a very good job then am I? I can’t keep m’eyes off o’you. ‘S not my fault you don’t bloody notice ‘em.”

But you had noticed them.

His eyes, gaze following your every move, near enough. Stupid little touches. Glances of approval. Not just now, but from years before.

Treating you how he always did.

Oh, treating you how he always did.

Bringing your eyes back to his figure, you saw the way his gaze darted and nervousness dragged at his features. A frown began to set itself between his eyebrows from worry.

“Changes everything.”

Running his tongue along his teeth, Harry pursed his lips. “Everythin’ has changed, changed a long time ago an’all.”

You dropped your hand down, it now massaging against the back of his neck and shoulder as you felt the tension of his body radiating through his clothes. Under the dim moonlight and the odd spotlight that had been added to the viaduct with each passing year for safety, Harry exhumed everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. He was soft, and so bloody gorgeous. Not just because he was personification of an almost six foot tall string of handsomeness, but his character did the talking for him.

He knocked the door before he walked into a room, for example. Who really did that kind of thing anymore?

But you could also still see the heartbreak that lingered, albeit not as strong as it once was, it was still there. And that was problematic and scary. To be on the receiving end of it. Not that you would hold it against him, because you had been him at one point too. At many points in fact.

When the two of you had shagged, because let’s face it that is exactly what it had been, while a sense of familiarity in the person was prevalent it was definitely overruled by the desire to just hit a euphoric high that if hit right could not be topped.

Familiar overruled in other aspects, and it wasn’t to be brushed away. But was familiarity a mask that would slip sooner rather than later? Was it the start and the end?

The both of you experienced similarities in your life that could not be matched by the friends in your friendship group. London had chewed you up and spat you out, ruthlessly so. While rewarding you with long hours but fat pay cheques, careers that catapulted you to new heights and enabled you to see parts of the world that two country kids (which in one way you were) could never have imagined.

Sure Harry’s had been on a much, much larger scale - you would not ever deny that - but you no longer fit in.

And neither did he.

This was a place that only the two of you knew. A place where you watched those around you fall in love and have the time to do so. A place where your friend's happiness was created a lot easier than it wasn’t and allowed a sense of success to weave its way in, through the most unexpected of happenings.

Not a place where you found happiness in your work because there was less of a space for happiness to blossom elsewhere. Not really. Not like you; both of you.

Understanding was vital.

This had been a place you knew like the back of your hand. A place that had you feeling the earth beneath your feet, fresh air in your lungs and had at times made it so you found yourself sitting by a river and finding yourself feeling complete.

Yet looking over at the almost 26 year old, that just wasn’t the case anymore.

And for once you didn’t feel alone.

The sound of the odd piece of cobbled pavement underneath Harry shoes, buried beneath overgrown grass and plants, broke you from your thoughts, as you watched him kick at the ground and scuff his shoes.

He sighed, head tilted back before he knocked it to the side and caught your eyes. A small scoffed laugh left his lips as he shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“‘S it fucked?”

You hummed, a small frown lacing your features.

“Fucked it, haven’t I? Fuckin’- idiot-“ he breathed out a noise as he clenched his teeth, one that wasn’t quite a growl but enough to let you know he was agitated. Only strengthened by how tight his jaw became.

Before you could even think, the back of your hand gently brushed against the pulsing hinge of his jaw. Muscles taut as you tried to soothe him in a way that your mind was screaming was far too intimate.

You didn’t want him having any internal battle about right and wrong. Not when you had both taken the same steps to get here.

“Thought it was just meant as a one time thing,” you admitted. “Like you needed it, and I needed it. Was what it needed to be at the time. Bit rough, bit sloppy-“

You cringed are the use of the word. Wanting the ground to swallow you in a weird fashion. You should be able to talk open and honestly with someone who you had known longer than hadn’t.

“Rough?“ Harry swallowed audibly, his face fallen. “That’s not-“

His eyes held an emotion similar to sorrow at the mention of the word. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give you.”

“We were both drunk, it happens.”

“Not with me it doesn’t. Not when it’s me, wanting to be wi’you.”

“I mean I was into it if that helps anything?”

“Were yer?”

You looked at him from the corner of your vision, watching his lips try to fight a smile as you rolled yours into your mouth to not give yourself away. You knew what you were trying to do by speaking those words aloud but you wished you hadn’t. Awkward breathy laughs were shared by the two of you as you held his eyes.

“Was I?”

You hummed in agreement to answer his question, letting your smile dance along your lips now and watching as Harry’s dimples started to show. His expression was youthful, slightly smug.

“Good t’know.”

***

Finishing saying your goodbyes to your friends and ignoring their suggestive expression because ‘Harry was stopping as an extra pair of hands’, you shut the heavy wooden door and reached up to close the deadbolt lock at the top. Shortly after, you let your feet drop as you stopped standing on your tiptoes and pressed your forehead against the door.

The silence of the pub was always a strange one to you. A place that was usually thriving, whether it was just your friends, or your parents friends. When the lights were turned out, it was actually quite a lonely place. Regardless of growing up around this sort of industry your entire life and having parents as publicans nothing was more depressing than an empty bar, lifeless and nothing like it was intended.

A suggested lock-in from Jack, who managed to interrupt both yours and Harry’s conversation earlier had not been a bad shout after all. You knew it meant that you would have to deal with the fallout with it being Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the setting.

Turning to move from the door, you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the opening of a familiar Lily Allen song start to play over the speakers.

Harry emerged from the corner of the pub that housed the jukebox, slowly rubbing his hands together before he wordlessly picked up the scattered pint glasses that had remained on one of the tables that had been missed by the staff on the evening shift. His eyes glanced over at you, as you stood with a hand to your chest.

This wicked smile and gleam washed over his face as he paused his movement. “Did I scare yer?”

“Do you not think it’s a bit loud?”

He wrinkled his nose at you, a soft shake of his head no, to answer your question.

“‘S your fave innit?” He asked, head nudging to where the jukebox was now hidden.

With a small smile you nodded, “Prefer the Keane version in all honesty.”

“Don’t have it in the bloody jukebox though, d’yer? Can’t like it that much.”

Your smile deepened at his exclaim and how prominent his accent sounded as he spoke, the small clink of the glasses he was holding only heard if you really zoned in.

“Where d’yer want these?” He asked, holding up the five pint glasses he had collected. “Behind t’bar?”

Humming, you nodded and watched as he weaved his way through the tables to you. You frowned as he got closer, not understanding why he hadn’t bypassed you completely.

Once he was close enough to you, you watched as he reached for what you knew to be your own glass of wine that was almost finished.

“Fancy the rest of this or can it go too?”

Looking at him and down to the glass, you gently wrapped your hand around it and brought the lip to your mouth. You knocked the item back quickly, swallowing the rest of your wine, before handing over the now empty glass back to Harry.

“Good girl,” he joked, light laughter lacing each word. “Sit yourself down.”

Wearing an amused and quizzical expression, you let yourself sink down into the wooden chair. Resting your chin on your hand, you spun slightly in your seat to keep your eyes on Harry as he placed the glasses down and lifted the hatch so he could step behind the bar.

With your free hand, you started to tap the worn beer coaster labelled with the Cheshire Brewhouse logo against the table. Part of you hated how Harry had a knack for anything, including knowing his way around a bar.

He busied himself with collating the glasses once more as you let your eyes take in the surroundings you had known, loved and even grown out of.

Your parent’s pub was cosy and friendly. A truly

classic and quintessential British village pub, featuring open fires, bookcases found in the very far corner or the jukebox in the other, lots of old oak and a really pleasant garden with benches for the summat and heaters for the winter. You know the kind that had its regulars that had kids who had seen each other grow up.

The bar was the centre of the pubs house, with an extensive array of whiskies amongst many other delights. A nice range of local ales and a well-balanced, great quality list of wines on offer designed (which you would be taste testing if the service hadn’t decided to take a break) to complement the food menus designed daily by a team of chefs who all have a passion for great cooking using fresh, seasonal and local ingredients.

It looked as Christmassy as Christmas could get, with a real tree which was locally sourced from one of the many surrounding farms and traditionally decorated with golds and reds. Twinkly lights shone, not only on the trees but as part of the garland that was hung above the bar each year, much to the annoyance of your Dad and the delight of your Mum.

Slowly dragging your eyes back to the bar, you watched Harry as he poured you another glass of white wine and started to recap the bottle. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, his gaze meeting yours almost immediately.

“Service is a bit slow,” you jibed, once you knew he was with you. “Going to ruin the reputation of a fine establishment.”

His chuckle was breathy in response, but warmed you through as he turned his back and pushed his tumbler glass up against the device at the bottom of the Glenfiddich distilled malt whiskey, not once but twice going for a double.

“Helping yourself to the stock now, as well.”

“‘M sure your Dad won’t mind,” he responded, twisting his body back around to reach for your own glass and place it onto a tray that sat along the bar top. “In fact he’d probably make a comment about how it’d put hairs on m’chest.”

You laughed, unrestrained, knowing just how right he had been with that comment.

Over the otherside of the room, Harry smiled and shushed you as he walked closer, easily holding the tray with your drinks upon it. “Being a bit loud,” he taunted as he slid the tray down to the oak table.

“Oh, now you’re concerned about the noise.”

With his hand against the back of the chair which was currently housing your outstretched legs, you felt him start to wobble the seat to give you a warning.

“Hang on,” you said, “Plenty of other chairs.”

“This one’s mine,” he responded.

Wanting to roll your eyes but deciding not to, you let your legs drop down and gave the seat back to Harry. Once he was comfortable and he’d taken your drink off the tray, he gestured with his right hand.

Not entirely focused, he had to do the ‘come hither’ motion a couple of times before you finally cottoned on. He was willing to let you put your legs on his lap instead, while he may have taken the seat it didn’t mean he wanted to take away your comfort.

No sooner had your legs been raised to rest against his tan washed velvet corduroy trousers, was he fiddling with the buckle of your stiletto sandals.

“Got mud everywhere,” you commented, wiggling your toes that were painted a festive red and inspecting the little dots of dirt that were splattered against your skin, as Harry dropped the first shoe to the floor and quickly worked on the second. “Dread to think what they smell like.”

“Smell alrigh’ from ‘ere,” he mused, smirk faint but glaring obvious in his tone of voice as he threw a quick and mischievous glance at you. As you elongated your foot against his thighs, the tips of your toes were just about able to press into his thick jumper to try and jab at him for his comment.

Before you were able to put any sort of force behind your action, Harry’s hand clamped down around the top of your foot causing your eyes to snap up away from his hand and up to his eyes.

There he sat watching you, top two teeth pressed into his bottom lip keep his smile at bay. Releasing his lips slowly, his whispered threat left his throat, “I will tickle.”

You tried to fidget away but to no avail. With a whined laugh, you frowned as Harry goaded you by slowly raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You had tried him.

Truth be told you wanted to again.

If he wanted to.

Reaching for your wine, you took a hefty sip and let the silence swallow you both. Harry, who kept his hand on your foot and his fingers dancing gently against the top, let his head fall back awkwardly against the hardwood. His head dropped to the side taking in his surroundings and their familiarity.

“Do you ever get tired of coming back?”

You hummed, sure you had misheard due to the way the blood was rushing around your ears. He turned to look at you, all double chin and puffy cheeks.

“Of everything being the same, but different?”

His whispers captivated you, hushed confessions not quite meant for anyone else but his own mind yet spilling from him with such an ease that he did nothing to fight them.

“I’ll admit, I come home for other people. Not for me.”

“People?”

“Mum, Dad,” you paused. “You.”

His smile deepened. His chin knocking down to his chest, his eyes looking up at you from underneath his curling hair from being caught in the moist winter evening just hours before.

“You can stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you did three nights ago.”

Harry breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring and his chest expanding. A lick of his lips, before his mouth dropped to sit slightly agape.

“What if I don’t wan’to? What if I want t’look at yer like this all the time?”

You found yourself unable to respond, nose burying itself into your wine glass as you pressed your lips against the cool outside to try and hide your burning smile.

His lips curled lightly, before he breathed a laugh once and gently shook your foot with his hand. “Eh? Come ‘ere-“

“Harry,” you breathed.

“C’mon, c’mere. ‘S room for more than just your feet.”

If it wasn’t for the creak of your chair as you slowly started to push yourself out of it, you wouldn’t have consciously been aware of how you were making your way to him.

His body relaxed, somehow managing to become closer to horizontal than sitting upright in his seat, as he peered as you walking the short distance over to him.

With his legs widened, he pressed his face into your side now that you were close enough. His nose inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume which was only faint now due to the other senses and scents it had mixed with throughout the evening.

Rolling his face out of your body, he knocked his head back and pressed his chin where his face had been. The face you showed him was worn with worry, an expression he did not want to meet.

“‘S wrong?”

His ask was lazy. Not wanting to dig deep and know. What if he didn’t like what he found?

“We know how this is going to end.”

“Do we?” He prodded. His eyes moved over your features quickly before they partly disappeared to him, thanks to your curtain of hair which slowly fell down.

His hand reached up, desperately brushing it away and cupping at the back of your head as best as he could while he remained seated.

“How’s that? Tell me.”

“Same, but different.”

You knew you shouldn’t use his words, not in a way that could be considered against him, but they - in the most ambiguous of ways - described everything perfectly.

“Not if I have my way.”

His words were almost lost against your stomach as he pressed his face against you once more and wrapped his hands around you; sweaty, nervous palms pressing to the backs of your thighs.

“Same, but better.”

Harry guided you down to his lap, his lips somehow managing to remain pressed into stomach, or your chest, or your clavicle, as your face became level with his.

“Different, but better.”

He kissed against your cheek slowly, nose nudging at your skin as he willed for you to relax against him. “I don’t know how you like it, like this,” he whispered in confession. “Show me?”

A puff of air left your lips as you turned to look at him with hooded eyes. His mouth was closer to yours than you originally thought, corners of lips brushing as you slightly pulled away.

When your lips met, it was in the softest of pecks that trembled under your nerves. Both sets of eyes looking back at each other as you innocently engaged.

If you were to take your eyes away from him in any way, you would notice those fluffy curls of his falling over his forehead and the lightest dusting of red blush making itself known against his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

He felt like a school boy, lost and clumsy. The kid who was once again flicking paper at you in science class just so he could pull a face at you over something your teacher was saying to get you to laugh.

Mouths hovering over each other, your breathing mixed, as Harry nodded to you slightly. You pressed your lips to his once more, feeling the way he gradually opened up to you, warmed and softened underneath the puckering of your mouth against his.

His hands, that slightly trembled, smoothed over your hips trying to pull your body so that it was more so flush against his. You moaned softly, your hands running over his jumper covered shoulders, fingers digging and pulling at the material just below the nape of his neck.

The chair beneath you moved lightly against the floor, not quite a scrape but a dull drag. Neither of you broke the kiss, but his hands against you allowed fingers to dig in to hold you steady to him so if you were to fall from where you were sitting, he still had you.

His lips slowed, moving to press against your cheeks again as he panted and his warmth breath bounced off your skin. “Think I got it,” he heaved.

“Do you?”

Harry hummed his ‘yea’, before pressing his lips so tenderly to your chin and the underside of your jaw. He felt how you swallowed heavily, throat dry from the way your mouth hung open and your neck further exposed itself as you lolled your head back.

You were falling further and further back, finding it hard to stay upright as he devoured you and made you weaker with each pulling kiss. His groans were needy, muffled and making your ache. While yours were silent and making his desperate to pull something from you. To build is confidence in that he was doing something right, you liked it this way too.

Hands fumbled and dragged upwards at your skirt, faintly aware now how it was similar - if not the same one - to the garment you wore to his show.

“Gonna take this off properly,” he mumbled, feeling the way your hips moved slightly from his hands to roll over him.

“You don’t have to-“

“No?”

Your voices were rushed as you spoke to each other, barely audible but loud enough all the same. His head was knocked back slightly as you hovered over him and you found yourself admiring his blissed out face even only in the lead up.

This was a sight that you hadn’t received last time, and if you had your way it was one you were going to greedily enjoy in all its glory.

Like watching the way his eyes closed and he softly grinned, the left side of his teeth started to show as the one side of his face reacted first while your hands blindly moved to lift up his jumper and the white tee he had on underneath, to allow you to find the button of his corduroys.

“What ya doing?”

“Nothing,” you mused.

He pulled a face, the kind that down turned his lips, eyebrows raised and head slightly tilted to the side. The kind that had you smiling.

“Not trying to get m’trousers around m’ankles for a second time within a week then?”

You giggled. “No.”

“Please do.”

A low moan left you as you pressed your forehead to his jaw and dropped your eyes. Your hands slowly started to pull at the brass button and pop it open before seeking out the zip thanks to his desperate plea, encouraging you to continue.

Hands quickly sought out the waistband of the trousers and gently pulled at the item. From the way that you were sat, you knew there was no way you were doing to make them budge.

“Stand up fo’ me,” he mumbled, quickly helping you get off his lap so that he could make light work of his clothing and pull down his trousers and underwear.

His bare bum made easy contact with the cushion leather beneath him, eyes carefully watching you as your hands moved to underneath your skirt.

The fabric of your underwear slipped so easily down your legs, his eyes just about caught the sight of them as they pooled against your ankles and you kicked them away.

Legs pressed together, you slowly untucked the v-necked blouse you had chosen and pulled it over your head. Wearing nothing but a fancy black bra, and a tight little skirt you hastily snatched for your wine and took a hefty gulp.

You could feel his eyes on you, a gruff groan catching in the back of his throat and when you finally turned your eyes from where they had been looking down at your heaving chest and how great this bra made your boobs look, causing him to move his hand down to start playing with himself.

His name left your lips in a breathy gasp, causing you to look up quite surprised at the find of his right hand gently tugging at his hard length.

“Keepin’ me waitin’,” he groaned, his left hand sloppily reached for the back of the collar of his jumper and tee, pulling the item roughly over his head.

“Fuck sake,” he mumbled under his breath, agitated that he was unable to get both items of in one go.

“Smooth.”

Harry stared up at you with a playful squint, before he gently fell back and moved the chair as he did so, the dull scrape heard once more.

And if you didn’t know he was flushed before, when you first kissed, you were definitely aware now. His eyes were blown out and hungry as they devoured you. Hair wildly haphazard before he let go of himself with a soft slap of his skin and harshly pushed his fingers through it.

“‘S it still a couple of quid for a strip of three,” his words brought you back to him. This smugness radiated off of him as he groaned and leaned forward to push his trousers down all of the way. Over his vans and socked feet, before he toed them off as well be harshly pulled at his white sport socks.

You didn’t even need for him to explain what he meant, staying silent as you watched his hands tug at his corduroys from the floor and retrieve his wallet. As his fingers moved around to find a couple of quid, the jangle of the coins was taunting.

One leg crossed over the other, you swayed and found yourself blushing when he looked up at you once he’d managed to find enough money and then some. With his wallet thrown on the table, he stood proudly from the seat and closed the short gap between your both.

Leaning forward he easily took your lips with his own before pulling away. With his face still close to yours he whispered, “Promise not to look at my arse.”

He didn’t hang around long enough for your reply, instead turning away and brazenly giving you all the time you would ever need to admire him, his fantastic bum and his hairy legs before he opted for a jog-walk type of thing, suddenly conscious that he was absolutely walking around naked from the waist down in a pub owned by your parents.

While you waited you took a quick pull from his whiskey, needing the heftier burn for Dutch courage. Nervousness returned when you heard the endings of what you believed to be Harry whistling.

“Machine ate all m’fuckin’ change,” he grumbled, regardless of the twinkle in his eye at the strip of overpriced condoms he had managed to score from the men’s bathroom. “‘S Durex. Business must be booming, your Dad’s definitely gone up in the world.”

“Please don’t talk about my Dad.”

He smiled brightly before he reached for your face with one hand and pulled you towards him mumbling his ‘sorry’s’ against your lips as he gave you several kisses in quick succession.

His other arm loosely wrapped around your back and pulled you with him as he walked backwards and slowly lowered himself back onto his previous seat. The chair creaked as you joined him, slipping into his lap and feeling the way he was smiling now.

Pulling away from your kiss, he quickly tore away one of the condoms allowing the others to fall without much care to the floor. Teeth took a hold of the foil-like packaging and he tore it not so elegantly with his eagerness.

With his cock nestled in the crease of his own thigh now, the heat radiating from it matched your own agonising yearning. Scooting back to give him space, you heard him groan as he gently rolled the condom down onto himself. Eyes looking up just in time to see him knocking his head back and breathing deeply through nose. The foil-like packaging was back in between his teeth once more as his hands were otherwise preoccupied.

Slowly your hand reached up to take it from his mouth, feeling some playful resistance as Harry continued to hold it in his teeth. His eyes were open and boyishly sincere, as you tugged at the item and he finally released it when you lightly laughed.

“Gi’me a kiss.”

Obliging him, you leant forward and slotted your mouths together a lot easier than you had done at the start of the night. A heat built easily between the two of you, as Harry gave you his tongue and you felt the flex of his jaw under your hand as he worked your mouths together.

He was eager, his hands tightening on your waist before he growled when he understood he had to grab handfuls of skirt before he could cup your backside. But when his skin met yours and you ground down onto his lap, the groan that left him was the most animalistic sound imaginable.

The frown your face fell into showed your desire to whimper, as he kept you atop him and marvelled in the way you writhed, both from satisfaction and keenness at the pressure of his cock against you.

“Can I have you again?” He asked, the startings of sweaty hair being pushed off your face. His eyes peered at you, searching for his answer as you seemed to be able to do nothing but pant and look back at him yearningly. “Are you letting me?”

You dragged your fingers down his t-shirt covered torso and lifted it slightly just to see the quiver of his stomach as pulled you onto him once more.

“Like this?” you voiced, meekly.

“‘F this is what you like then, yea’”, he breathed into your mouth, hands shifting your pliant body. “Is this what you want?”

You wordlessly nod, mouth falling open in a breathy gasp when he managed to move you so he sat so enticingly at your entrance. He was teasing both yourself and him, wanting to keep you both on the edge.

Harry blinked a few times as he looked at you, and you revelled in the way he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His hands held your flesh tightly, fingertips dipping into the skin of your bum cheeks as he gently guided you down.

An unattractive and dull, quite strangled noise, left your throat as you let your forehead fall against his temple. Eyes falling down you see the cups of your bra fall slack, you felt his hands softly gliding over your shoulder blades and shoulders.

He rid you of your bra, hands moving to your chest to squeeze your breasts. His jaw fell slack when you found yourself sitting snugly on his lap - on him - settled and already feeling spent.

This was so different compared to the last time; if not overwhelming so because of the way you both appeared to be so present. Each movement of your hips, and the way they rolled and grinded and dragged felt too much. So much so that you had become nothing more than a mess of short, quick breathing and blushing, sweaty cheeks.

Slack-jaw, you were unable to find it in you to return Harry’s kisses, and his joyful, breathy chuckle seemed to lead you to believe he was fine with it. In fact he was happy to keep going as you were.

Your movements were frantic, and despite the build up, not entirely driven by lust either. Harry continued to encourage you to move as you were; slow, grinding motions on his lap that caused the filthiest of groans and dirtiest of laughs from the two of you. Laughter that was only made stronger as the chair that held you both started to creak too.

You couldn’t do much about it though other than to breathe into each other’s mouth, and rock your hips together with more fervour each time.

“Yea’,” he breathed against your lips, left hand at the back of your head holding you to him, while his right rested just above your bum. “‘S better. That’s better.”

It was better. Better than last time. Better than anything before.

And while it hadn’t been frantic before, it was now as your legs that were hanging down either side of the chair started to tremble and your toes started to dig into the worn carpet beneath them. Hips knocking and your clit dragging heavenly against his public bone, you grasped his name as you buried your face into his neck and dug your nails into his nape.

Harry hissed his approval which fell to a groan as your nails pushed up into his hair and lightly pulled as you sought leverage. There were so many things you were learning this time around and his penchant for liking his hair pulled from time to time, was one of those things.

“God, ‘m gonna come soon,” he admitted, gruntly as he forced your hips down as he anchored his legs and widened his seating position. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you whined. “Yes. Like this-“

And as you pressed your face to his once more, he was everywhere. Soft but hard, loving but commanding. Smelled like clean washing detergent but of country air. Inviting and alluring, allowing you your lingering kisses between grounding breaths that became staccato in unison with the movement of your hips.

You aren’t ashamed of the whines that escaped your throat as you squeezed down on his cock, praised by indecipherable works that left Harry but were nothing more to you than lips moving against your rough and dry ones. Word that made the burning feeling of your pending orgasm spread through your entire body, warming you and setting you alight.

It was long and deep, with your toes curling into the carpet they were pressed against now. Barely able to catch your breath, sucking in harshly and shaking.

And when you came to, thoroughly exhausted, you noticed that he was waiting for your say so. That he could let go and enjoy the pleasure brought about by your shared labour.

“Coming-“ was all the warning that you got and was enough to encourage you to watch him as he came, his face completely void of anything other than pure pleasure. Wrinkles and frowns fade, his mouth falling open with his pink lips glinting prettily under the dim Christmas lights around you.

His forehead gleamed with sweat as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and his hips bucked up one, two and three times for good measure. “Fuck me,” he heaved gruffly.

You were suddenly desperate to feel his lips on yours despite the way you both continued to fight to get your breath back, but settled for resting them against the skin of his cheek, which was hot to the touch.

When you felt Harry start to go soft, you reluctantly pulled away and let him slip out of you. He wasn’t so keen to let you get too far, holding you just that bit higher than before with his hand cupping gently but firmly at your hip. “Where’d you think you’re going,” he hummed, eyes still closed as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale.

You softly smiled, taking in his soft face and responded by nuzzling close to him again.

Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere with him.

A place where only the two of you knew, like the back of your hand. The same way you knew each other. Now and possibly forever.

#gbsxmaschallenge #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x you #harry x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles christmas #harry christmas

564 notes · View notes

fandomficsnstuff · 3 years

Text

Little Dragon - Part 8

Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.

High Valyrian is in cursive

You were listening intently to the conversations going on in the war room, so many faces that you wanted to remember, their names, their houses, their history, but for now you settled on staying silent and listening, “are you really sure we can discuss this around her?” your head snapped towards the accented voice, seeing a beautiful woman with olive skin, black hair and dark brown eyes, and you wanted to look to your mother for help, but decided that you couldn’t use her as a pillar forever “(Y/N) Targaryen, Lady…?” you couldn’t help your tone, you were not a little girl wearing a collar around her neck anymore, jumping at the slightest of sounds. You were still timid and childish with Daenerys and Missandei, because you knew you could afford it, but you didn’t know these people, they were allies of your mother, but you didn’t know them.

“Ellaria” she sounded tense as she responded, she probably hadn't known you were the daughter of Daenerys, but you merely nodded “well, Lady Ellaria, I would prefer that if you are done questioning who your Queen trusts, perhaps we could get back to planning the war we are currently in” you heard a short laugh, your eyes glancing to none other than Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns, and the only living Tyrell left. “Are you sure you did not birthe her? She has the spirit of a dragon that one” Daenerys did everything to not smirk proudly at Olenna’s comment, and even Ellaria looked a bit surprised at your response “now… I agree that a foreign army would send the wrong signal, but an army from Westeros, it would show that we are not here to raid and pillage, the Dothraki will not do so unless their Khaleesi orders and my mother never will, the Unsullied are obedient and loyal, so they won’t either, but we need Westeros with us, and showing that their own houses are turning on Cercei is a good way to win quickly and without a lot of losses, on either side”, you studied the map as you spoke, unaware of the impressed looks everyone gave you, Tyrion being the first to speak up “well… I agree” you glanced at him and sent him a quick smile, one of the few smiles you had offered him, but you didn’t really know him either, so it was justified that you didn’t treat him, or Varys, as warmly as the rest of your mother’s allies.

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

You stood impatiently besides Daenerys in the throne room, and Daenerys couldn’t help the amused glance she shared with Missandei “alright go, but change before you do!” you barely even heard the rest of her sentence, you were already off, heading towards your room. In record breaking time you changed from your formal dress to a special outfit you had made for you. You had been riding Rhaegal much more frequently, and today were the day of the arrival of Jon Snow, King in the North, and you had promised to stay for his arrival and then ride Rhaegal after, but you couldn’t help fidgeting, and were more than happy that Daenerys excused you. You put on your leather trousers, securing them with a harness that was connected to them, ensuring that they didn’t fall down, not even an inch, you had a tunic under your harness, pulling a shortened cloak over your shoulders and tying it to the harness, making sure the knots were tight, the cloak was warm but light, it reached just below your hips, but kept you warm. Next you threw on a pair of gloves made from cloth on the inside and leather on the outside, and then your boots, they were high, they almost reached your knees, and you pulled the laces tight, so they wouldn’t fall off during the flight.

Your room had an open balcony, just like Daenerys’, and you approached the edge, grinning widely as you waited. You couldn’t help the excited giggle you let out as you heard him roar as he came closer, and in a leap of faith you jumped off of the balcony, you let out a little huff as you landed on scales, and a few moments later you got a good grip, holding onto Rhaegal as you flew away from the castle, going high up and then soaring, admiring the landscape below, seeing a ship you presumed belonged to Jon Snow, you flew towards Drogon and Viseryon who were flying on the other side of the island. You could still just about watch Tyrion greet Jon Snow, and saw them making their way towards the entrance.

A wicked smile grazed your lips as you got an idea, and somehow Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal knew what your plan was, Rhaegal let out an ear shattering roar as you held on tightly, flying towards Tyrion and the two men he were leading up the long stone staircase. You leaned forward as you flew closer to the ground, Rhaegal barely managing to not hit the small people below, something that made you laugh loudly and you couldn’t help but cheer, Tyrion seeing you on Rhaegal as you waved at him, and you could see him shake his head, but you also knew of the smile he tried to hide, he was probably telling Jon that he himself wasn’t used to the presence of the dragons.

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

You heaved heavily as you ran into the throne room, your hair wild from the wind, your chest rising dramatically as you tried to catch your breath, standing besides Daenerys who did her very best to not smirk at you proudly, instead she tried to look as regal as ever, waiting patiently for this, Jon Snow, to arrive.

Rhaegal had barely managed to throw you off on the open balcony you jumped out of earlier, you almost bumped into a few tables on your way to the throne room, a fact that made you smile amused before trying to hide it. “Well, at least you made it back in time” her words could be mistaken as scolding, but you knew her better, and you couldn’t help the breathless giggle you let out “think I scared an inch or so off of Lord Tyrion” Daenerys let out a short, although quiet, laugh at your comment, shooting you a very poor attempt of a scolding gaze before looking back towards the large doors at the end of the throne room, making you straighten your back, your smile faltering and your hands placed in front of yourself, as you always did when you had attended any court meeting.

You watched the two strangers as Missandei went down the list of titles that your Queen had acquired along the way, something you took great pride in, she was your mother after all.

“And this is (Y/N) Targaryen, daughter of Queen Daenerys Stormborn, princess of the Seven Kingdoms and heir to the throne” Missandei finally ended, and the two men looked at you confused, giving you the impression that they didn’t know that much about your mother, and therefore you, they had probably only heard rumours, lies or other falsehoods, and therefore didn’t know of your existence, which was probably not a bad thing. You had heard of how the usurper King Robert Baratheon had sent assassins to kill Daenerys, even while she was pregnant, so who says they wouldn’t have been sent after you, back then nothing more than a little girl, had the usurper's children heard of your existence, and Daenerys’ love for you. You were snapped out of your day dream as Daenerys got up, approaching Jon Snow and his adviser, and first now you tuned in on their conversation, a small frown resting on your brows, hearing her words, but you couldn’t deny the pride it gave you, despite hearing all that she had suffered, “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it. We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now, of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me, I don't remember all their names. I have been sold like a broodmare. I've been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing, through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any god, not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries, until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea, any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, and I will, and so will my daughter.” Her gaze turned to you for a brief moment and you smiled proudly, one she proudly returned before turning back to Jon Snow.

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

You frowned as you watched your mother study the map in silence, you wanted to say something, you really did, but what could you say? The Iron Fleet was gone, Yara and Ellaria had been taken prisoner and Jon Snow refused to bend the knee and instead only wants to hack away at some mysterious stone somewhere in a cave on the island, claiming that an army of undead people and giants are the true enemy.

You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, you being the only one to actually make a sound in the entire map room “maybe…” you dared a glance at your mother, not that you feared her, but more that you knew of the thin ice you were balancing on “maybe you should just let him mine this… ‘dragonglass’... it means nothing to you after all” Daenerys looked to you slowly, and for a second everyone in the room were praying to whoever and whatever that you hadn’t crossed a line, but when you received no response, you continued, “you didn’t know it was there, no one did… there are two options here, either he’s right, in which it doesn’t hurt you or your army or your dragons to comply, or he’s mad, and it won’t hurt you, your army or your dragons either. There’s no outcome here where anything bad is an outcome, you complying will also show that yes, you are to be feared, but you are also complying and reasonable, and allowing one man, one person to mine something of no value is a sign that you are with the people of Westeros” there was another second of silence, but eventually Daenerys smiled at you, walked over to you and placed a gentle hand on your cheek, looking at you with a proud look in her eyes before walking off.

“Where is she going?” Tyrion looked at you baffled and confused, but you simply shrugged “to allow Jon Snow to mine the Dragonglass” you leaned over the map table, studying the different areas, looking at the different highlighted places, such as King’s Landing, Winterfell, all the places you’ve only ever read about, you couldn't wait to see them for real.

#Daenerys Targaryen #Daenerys Targaryen x Child!Reader #GoTFanFic

114 notes · View notes

sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Four

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2960

Warnings: Itsy bitsy amount of angst, bad language words, mentions of phone sex and masturbation

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

“James?”

You held your breath after you uttered the name into the phone’s speaker. Your heart galloped at the thought of actually speaking to him. You’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t imagined how his voice sounded. You pictured something deep and raspy but drawled and sweet.

In the last five days, you’d imagined many things about James. Not just the sound of his voice, but his laugh, too. Rich and soothing. And of his scent- distinctly his own or a fresh, citrusy cologne of bergamot and tangerines. You imagined his rough, calloused hands sliding over your skin in slow motion.

And how he kissed. You daydreamed about that, too. Often. You couldn’t count how many times you’d stared at his sorry excuse for a selfie. You found yourself drawn to it daily. It was only part of his face, but what you could see was ruggedly handsome. His lips looked soft and delectable. You pictured yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, deepening its color to blush pink.

A sharp sigh escaped through your nose as you waited for his reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard you the first time? “James?” you asked again. “Hello?”

No response.

You pulled the phone away from your ear to make sure you were still connected. The call-time counter ticked ominously second by second on the screen. You tucked the device back under your hair to find the call was still active.

Did he get cold feet and change his mind last minute? He hadn’t hung up yet, so you weren’t exactly sure why he was waiting. Maybe he was tongue-tied? Or hadn’t expected you to pick up?

“Did you butt-dial me, James?” you laughed, trying to dispel some of your anxiety.

You heard a muffled “ shit” and two beeps. You glanced at the phone’s screen again, and call ended flashed in bold white.

Ignoring the hang-up, you immediately re-dialed James. The line rang and rang. And rang.

You weren’t confident you were going to speak with James, the longer the rings continued. He wasn’t ready to talk to you yet, and that was okay. It had only been five days.

Five days wasn’t long enough to build a bond over stupid Would You Rather? questions or form a simmering crush on a stranger that made your stomach flip whenever he sent you a funny cat meme. Nope. Five days was much too short of time for anything.

A generic voicemail greeting clicked over and rudely beeped at you. You took a deep breath and quickly thought of a reason to be calling someone who didn’t want to talk. “Hey, James. Just calling you back. It’s (Y/N), by the way. I’m not sure if you meant to call the first time or if sneaky ninjas have accosted you and somehow did a crazy pocket dial. Y’know, because of the whole military-trained assassin athlete mchottie thing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And no pressure! If you’re not comfortable talking on the phone, I completely understand. I’m sweating bullets just talking to your voicemail box.” You chuckled nervously. You were starting to babble.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I hope you’re well. And don’t leave me hangin’. I really wanna know if you’d rather sneeze every hour or burp when you saw a pretty girl.” You laughed again. “Goodbye, James.”

You mashed the end call button and face-planted into one of the throw pillows on your couch. You groaned loudly into the fabric, chastising yourself in your head. If he didn’t want to talk before, he most definitely wouldn’t want to now. You shook your head in disbelief. Sneaky ninjas, seriously? What. The. Fuck?

Hours later, while in the middle of a Say Yes to the Dress marathon (dammit Robyn!) and a self-induced diabetic coma of ice cream and chips, your phone vibrated. You swat at it on the coffee table with a foot, only to realize you lack the limberness or the dexterity in your toes to retrieve the phone. As a result, it tumbled to the ground as you groaned in displeasure. Cursing your luck, you bent forward to pick it up. Awakening the phone’s black screen, a text popped into view.

James Sorry

Your heart lurched for a moment. With every second that had passed since you’d left your voicemail for James, the least likely you’d felt he’d call back or even respond. Hence the pity party with Ben & Jerry and Cool Ranch Doritos.

James My so-called “friends” grabbed my phone from me and led to accidentally calling you.

Ahh, the old “invade-your-friend’s-privacy” maneuver, you thought, shaking your head.

James I didn’t want to hang up on you, but I’m not quite ready to talk yet. I like what we have.

Your heart flopped. You liked what you had, too, but a small part of you- a dumb part- wanted just a little more.

Shaking off the feeling of longing churning your insides, you thumbed over the screen to reply.

You No worries, James. We can go at whatever speed you like.

It was weird to have the guy, for once, want to take things slow. Usually, it was always you pumping the brakes in the relationship. Was this even a relationship, though? Were all the texting and personal questions leading somewhere? Or were you bound to end up friends with an interesting story to tell your other friends?

Not allowing your negative thoughts to curtail the joy of finally texting James again, you quickly punched out:

You I’m just glad you’re okay and not being held for ransom somewhere.

James It would take a whole horde of ninjas to take me down.

You giggled at the confidence contained in this one text, but talking to a girl on the phone threw him for a loop. We are definitely back in junior high, you thought.

You You sound awfully confident for a man who wouldn’t talk to a friend on the phone.

James You don’t want to talk to me.

You pinched your eyebrows together in frustration to form a crease between them. Was he serious?

You Sure, I do. I have a bet going with myself on how your voice sounds. Is it deep and masculine or high-pitched like you sucked in helium?

James Which are you betting on?

You pulled your bottom lip in by your teeth, biting softly. You smirked as you thought of the two options. The former would be nice, but the latter would be pretty damn funny.

You I mean, deep and masculine is very desirable. Listening to the low timbre of a man’s voice is very relaxing for me. But, considering the ridiculous “selfie” you sent me, I’m placing my money on high-pitched.

James What was wrong with my selfie?!

Somehow, you knew that would get him worked up.

You Well, for starters: I can only see, like, part of your face! Did a blind person teach you how to take them??

You And secondly, there clearly wasn’t enough “Blue Steel.” With cheekbones and pouty lips like yours and a chiseled jaw, I’d be blue-steeling the shit out of all my selfies!

A wave of remorse washed over you once you hit send. Had you really compared him to Zoolander? Not only had you objectified him by mentioning how aesthetically pleasing he was (let’s face it- he’s really, really, really ridiculously good looking), but you may have criticized him for his terrible selfie abilities. At that moment, as you waited for the inevitable “fuck off” text to come through, you wished for a giant sinkhole to appear under your apartment and swallow you whole. What were you thinking?

James First off, I’m a selfie amateur. My past line of work limited my contact and/or exposure to the outside world. I didn’t learn what a selfie even was until recently. Remember, I’m also a man of mystery. I’m trying to keep up appearances and can’t reveal too much.

James What is “Blue Steel”? I’m not very pop-culture savvy unless it happened before 1944.

James Did you just call me pretty??

Your cheeks flushed with the heat of a thousand suns. He called you out as you expected him to do.

You Uh...

You Are we gonna talk about the fact you said you didn’t know about pop culture after 1944?? You are a grandpa!

James Nice try with the subject change! Admit it- you think I’m pretty.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be the thing he focused on out of the whole conversation.

You I have no idea what you’re talking about.

If all else fails--deny, deny, deny.

James Right. Sure about that, doll?

Your pulse spiked.

You never did like pet names before you met James, but doll had a goo-ing effect on you for some reason. Everything seemed to turn to mush whenever he mentioned the word.

You Absolutely. I have no reason to believe that if you weren’t a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie, you’d be a male model. None what-so-ever.

James Uh-huh. I’m going to pretend that you aren’t lying through your teeth and getting back to our scintillating game of Would You Rather?

James I’d burp every time I saw a pretty dame, by the way. I wouldn’t want to take my chances with sneezing in my sleep. Would you rather eat only fruits or vegetables for one year?

Several nights after the voicemail incident, you were sitting in Penelope with Robyn after work. She wanted to meet up to decide which centerpieces worked best for the reception. Scattered across the table were three samples she and Kevin had narrowed it down to. With your thumb, while playing with a corner of the hand-drawn example closest to you, a sigh escaped your nose.

Your sister’s talent mesmerized you. Each storyboard showed the intricate detail of the flowers and candles themselves and what the tables would look like next to each other with every centerpiece. You were in awe.

“These are so good, Robbie! They must have taken forever to put together,” you said, admiring a different sample on the table.

“Nah,” she replied, brushing the compliment aside. “Just an afternoon’s time last week.”

“Well, shit. I hope they’re paying you the big bucks at work.”

She quirked an eyebrow devilishly as she reached for her drink. “You know it,” she jested before taking a sip.

You laughed at her cheekiness. Robyn had always been a go-getter. One of the many attributes you loved about her. Never took no for an answer.

“Soooo,” she drawled as she set her glass down. “How have you been?”

You looked up swiftly, eyeing her suspiciously before returning your gaze to the storyboard in your hands. “I’m still alive if that’s what you’re asking.” You set the drawing down to take a drink from your glass. “Haven’t been murdered yet, but the night is still young.”

Robyn rolled her eyes at your petulance. “You know I worry about you. Are you still texting James?”

You smiled sweetly. “Each day that goes by, you act more and more like Mom. You know that?”

Robyn scoffed. “I do not!”

She could deny it all she wanted, but Robyn was turning into the spitting image of your mother. You laughed again. “You do too. Even down to the eye roll.”

She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for you to answer her question.

Two could play this game.

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your napkin unhurriedly. “If you must know, yes, James and I are still texting.”

“Has he sent any dick pics or asked for nudes?” Robyn asked earnestly.

“Yup. We engage in wildly pornographic phone sex every night.”

Robyn glanced around the restaurant with eyes wide as saucers, making sure none of the other patrons heard you. “(Y/N), I’m serious! Has he propositioned you?”

You huffed a small laugh. “Nope,” you admitted. “In fact, he’s the one that wants to take things slow. He accidentally called me the other day and hung up from jitters.” Robyn didn’t need to know the full truth.

“The jitters?” Robyn queried.

“Yeah. I even called him back, but he let it go to voicemail.”

“Then, he must be weird or ugly.”

You grimaced at her assumption. “Ew, Robbie. Don’t be gross,” you chastised. “He’s the opposite of ugly. I might even go as far as to call him handsome.”

“How? You don’t know what he looks like,” Robyn questioned.

You took a quick sip of your drink, holding up a finger. “Au, contraire mon frère. He sent me a selfie in the very beginning.”

Robyn looked at you, perplexed. “You know you just called me your brother, right?”

You waved a hand at her to dismiss her accusation. “Ma soeur just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” You pulled your phone out to offer proof.

“You can barely see his face!” she exclaimed. “What if he’s horribly disfigured on the other side? Or missing an arm?”

You shrugged. “Then, he’s missing an arm.” You got a distant look in your eyes as you recalled the last ten days of texting with James. “He’s different, Robbie. He’s smart and funny and caring. Polite. It feels like he has an old soul. He calls me doll for chrissakes!”

“Are you sure he isn’t some crusty, old man?” Robyn gagged at the thought.

“No, I don’t,” you chuckled in response. The faraway look returned after a moment. “To me, he’s just James.”

Realization dawned on Robyn’s face, lighting her up like a light bulb. “Oh, my god. You like him.”

“Well, yeah,” you acknowledged, “he’s my friend.”

“No. You like him like him.”

Your face reddened quickly with the awareness of your feelings. They weren’t real, were they? Shaking your head, you replied, ”Nothing will happen, Robbie. It’s just a crush.”

Skeptically, she agreed, “Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“I believe that as much as I welcome a cold sore on my wedding day.” She scrunched her nose at the thought of a gross, red blemish on her face for her big day.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “If I fall head over heels, madly in love with James by your wedding day, I’ll owe you a hundred bucks.”

Robyn raised a sculpted brow in interest. “I’m listening.”

“One hundred dollars. End of negotiation,” you stated. “I don’t have a spare hundred bucks, so it will be a motivator not to fall for James. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

She smiled smugly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”

“Will you stop saying that?” you said, throwing a piece of lettuce at her face. “You definitely sound like Mom.”

Robyn huffed in annoyance, back-handing your shoulder softly. “Shuddup! I do not!”

You chortled heartily at the mini tantrum she was throwing about becoming Mom. You’d say anything at this point to get her to forget about you and James.

In all honesty, there was no you and James. Not really. You were friends, but could you move past that?

He was hiding something.

Something big.

And it wasn’t part of the whole “man of mystery” persona, either. James was holding back.

He had a hard time giving up anything personal to you that went beyond his likes and dislikes, which led you to believe he had found it difficult to trust.

It angered you deeply without really knowing why. Something in his past had sparked the inability. You only wish you knew what.

Deep down, you could really see yourself falling for James, and that scared you to death.

Breaking you from your reverie, Robyn piped up, “You know, James is probably jerking off to your voicemail.”

“Oh, absolutely!” you retorted, both of you dissolving into a giggling fit.

After leaving Robyn with a clear choice for centerpieces, you made your way back home. After a fifty-minute subway ride, you popped into the corner bodega for some essentials for the coming week.

Sauntering up the stairs to your third-floor walk-up, you steadied your armful of groceries with each step. It had been a long week, and now with the revelation of how you felt about James clouding your mind, a glass of wine, ice cream, and a bubble bath sounded good right about now.

You could barely see over the bags and juggled them precariously. As you stepped onto your floor, you recognized the voice of your next-door neighbor down the hall. He was talking with someone, but you couldn’t tell with whom or what about.

Blindly, you called out, “Hey, Peter? Can you be a lifesaver and help a neighbor out?” You heard the scuffle of footsteps over tile rush toward you.

Sighing in relief, you relinquished two bags to the arms reaching out. “Thanks, Pete! You’re a pe-”

You stopped mid-sentence when your view was finally cleared. Your sixteen-year-old neighbor wasn’t standing before you but a tall man with chestnut hair tied in a knot. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes widened to take in the figure’s full breadth holding your groceries.

Your eyes flicked to Peter as everything came back to focus. He was adjusting your other two bags in his arms.

“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Mr. Barnes from my Stark internship. He’s a friend. He was helping me with some history homework,” Peter explained, gesturing to the hulking man standing outside your apartment door.

“Peter,” you admonished, “how many times-” Last names weren’t meant to be spoken by friends slash neighbors.

Peter winced. “Right! Sorry, (Y/N)!” he apologized. “This is Bucky.”

Recognition crossed your face at the name. Smiling, you stuck out your hand in front of you. “Bucky Barnes, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bucky shifted one of your bags in his arms to reach out his hand. He smiled softly, “ Li-likewise.”

Chapter Three | Chapter Five

Tag list:

@hommoturttle @courtneychicken @vidzbyemz @vicmc624 @shawnie--jo @redbarn1995 @learisa @austynparksandpizza @ddowii @comeasyoudar @notsoinnocentrebel @i-have-no-life-charlie @champagneacademiaproblems @oldschoolkiddo @jillweasley @thefridgeismybestie @versacefloors @justab-eautifulmess

@saiyanprincessswanie- to be added to reading list

Permanent Tag list:

@indigo123789

Send an ask to be added to the tag list!

#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health #dtibfyh #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

219 notes · View notes

thiefofstars16 · 3 years

Text

Right so I have a lot of Obi-Wan-centric ideas that will not leave me alone, but here's one that I wanted to write down the start of (and also Maz Kanata deserved more screen time):

Where Obi-Wan gets taught by Maz Kanata to deal with his overwhelming visions, questionably nice-ish Sith and frankly vicious Jedi holocrons, and somehow unexpectedly (or maybe predictably?) falls in love with Jango Fett, the future Mand'alor. Along the way, he royally fucks up the thousand-year-plan-to-rule-the-galaxy made by Darth Bane's idiots, saves the Haat Mando'ade and Mandalore as a whole, and gives the Jedi Order a collective kick in the ass to get their shit together.

----

Obi-Wan Falls while on Melida/Daan, and he's just...furious. Wants to rail at the injustice that he's suffered, at the injustice that the Young had faced, that he had faced on Bandomeer, on Phindar, at the Coruscant Temple itself, at his own Master who didn't even want him in the first place. But at his core, he's still the same even having Fallen, he knows this - he still wants to do good, still wants to help people. It's just...where does he go from here?

----

Obi-Wan Kenobi, cast out from the Order after the latest clusterfuck that was Melida/Daan, somehow ends up at Dex's Diner, alone, with no braid, no 'sabre, and honestly, no idea what to do next. He didn't even realize that he was in the diner that his Master - former Master - had taken him to in their brief time together.

Dex, though, sits across from this pint-sized former-Padawan, remembers that at one time the baby Jedi looked at him and decided that he'd save Dex because it was "the right thing to do " (the baby Jedi's words, not his). And Dex could not let this kid go out on his own, so he goes to his collection of interesting things - which was usually information - that included items which were supplied by a former pirate, who so happened to be quite knowledgeable in weird Force things.

Which is entirely the reason I'm entrusting Ol' Kanata with this kid, Dex thinks, a bit bemused, Though who's to say it's not Maz trusting me to lead Obi-Wan back to her? Considering she probably saw this coming in the first place.

So, he discreetly hands Obi-Wan the things he'd received from Maz for safe-keeping (who had given Dex a knowing look and said she'd be seeing these items again) - which, obviously, include a few holocrons (of slightly questionable nature), many spare credit chips, and (maybe not-so-suprisingly) two khyber and one adegan crystals that sing in the Force loudly enough to startle Obi-Wan from the daze he'd been in since he sat down.

"What's this?" Obi-Wan quietly asks, slightly wary, but intrigued at the hum of the crystals now in his hands.

Dex laughs. "Don't you worry, kid. I got all of this from a reputable source! In fact, that source could be your next stop, as from what I understand you ain't got no one to go back to?" Dex says, not unkindly.

A sharp sting of sorrow cuts Obi-Wan to the core, but he nods, somewhat confused.

"Well then, I can get you on a ship headed out to Takodana to stay with Ol' Kanata - she can get you settled real quick-like," he pauses, shrugs a little, "she'll also be able to help with any funny Force things that your kind get up to, Dark or Light."

The thing is, even only knowing Dex for a short while, Obi-Wan is one hundred percent sure that Dex knows an entirely illegal amount about what happened even if the larger populace remains unaware.

With this knowledge at the forefront of his mind, Obi-Wan is a bit wary. If he were a bit less numb, he'd probably be in tears at the suggestion that there might be someone actually able to help him deal with his recent trip into the well of the Dark. He knew that if someone were truly aware of how far he'd Fallen - because not even the Council knew the extent - then he would be in major karking shit.

But he counted Dex as a friend, and with a little questioning nudge to the Force, knew with certainty that Dex only wanted to help him, even if that meant skirting Republic law.

(He knew he Fell, he knew that he had killed people, though the memories of broken bodies and blood were so blurry that he couldn't remember their faces.

Their screams, on the other hand? Oh, he remembered those.

He couldn't stop remembering those.

A small part of him - the part that had raged at the Republic's refusal to get involved, at Master Jinn's own karking attachment to Master Tahl, at the Elders murdering each other, at the Elders killing their own damned children for the sake of war and death and blood - that part bared sharp teeth in savage triumph at the justice he had handed out and purred at the memory of those screams.)

Shaking himself from the direction his thoughts had taken, he looked at Dex and with a tremor in his voice, asked, "You think she could help me-help me get rid of my Darkness?"

The Besalisk sighed. "Kid, no one can ever truly get rid of their own Darkness. Hells, I know I'm not fully clean anymore and won't ever be," Obi-Wan slumped, and hastily wiped away the frustrated tears that had started to form; Dex leaned down to put one of his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, "But that doesn't mean she can't help you. Ol' Kanata knows a thing or two about Light and Dark, and she'll give you a space where you can sort things out for yourself, safely, and away from prying eyes. She knows quite a bit about staying off the Republic's radar, and she can give you a place where you can do all things you need to do. I know you, kid - I know that you won't want to stop helping people."

Dex paused, and said with warning, "It won't be easy, kid. There's all sorts hanging around her den - bounty hunters, smugglers, even Mandos - but she'll do right by you. And I have a sense that you need her. So. Whaddya say?"

The mention of those types of people, of Mandalorians, caused Obi-Wan to pale. But he frowned, opened himself up to the currents of the Force and tried to think this through, because really what choice did he have?

On some level he wanted to say no, to go crawling back to the Jedi Order and beg to be accepted again, to be a Jedi, he knew he was supposed to have been a Jedi Knight, he knew that war was on the horizon and that Darkness clouded the Force and that he needed to do something -

He stopped that thought in it's tracks. Because. Because...what was stopping him from doing something about what was coming? Truly? What was stopping him from being a Jedi? Yes, he wouldn't be a part of the Order, and maybe he wouldn't have a Master, but isn't the Code just a philosophy? Couldn't he strive to do good, to help others, to do as the Force willed on his own?

It was almost heretical. To be a Jedi that didn't bow to the Order. To be a Fallen Jedi that, that...that could work in the Dark to serve the Light.

He could do it, he mused. He could go to this 'Kanata', take the offer of shelter and learn from the artifacts given to him by Dex, learn from those who walked a different path. It would be dangerous, especially if there were Mandalorians involved. Though...if he did this, he wouldn't be a Jedi anymore, would he?

What else did he have to lose? He's already lost his chance at being part of the Order, at being a Padawan, at proving himself to the Masters that thought him too arrogant and brash and un-Jedi-like.

Well, Obi-Wan thought with a bit of self-reproach and no small amount of growing excitement, if I was already un-Jedi-like while actually being in the Jedi Order, then I suppose I really don't have anything to lose, do I?

With a nod of determination, a tight grip on the newly aquired items, and something of a new hope unfurling in is heart, he accepted Dex's offer of a haven with Maz Kanata and her possibly-not-so-legal den of wandering spacers.

Obi-Wan had no idea that in doing so, he changed the course of the galaxy.

(Somewhere, a bit later on, Palpatine feels a shiver of not-quite-unease crawl down his spine. But, he dismisses the absolute absurd idea that something had changed, that something had caused the galaxy to shift to the Light.

If he had looked into it, he would have found that one Maz Kanata, along with a former young Jedi by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi, had a curious little run-in with the bounty hunter and Mand'alor Jaster Mereel.

Arrogance, as per usual, would be the downfall of the Sith of Bane's Line.)

#yikes that was longer than anticipated #a thought - the song playing on repeat during writing this is awakening by unleash the archers #i want to continue this but i am decidely tired af atm #maybe I'll post another bit again next week or so #idk if I'll finish this #but if i do #ill tag it as something that i can come back to #theifofstars fic - awakening #jangobi #sith obi wan #or really morally gray Obi-Wan #maz kanata #not really qui-gon jinn friendly #obi-wan is a bit fucked up #and a lot sad #sw fanfic #star wars #good gods I've edited this so many times lmao #lemme know what yall think?#also anyone catch the assassins creed ref #and sw pun?#i figure there'll be flashbacks to just before this and melida/daan #awakening: pt 1 #actually the song that fits this is 'the wind that shapes the land' by unleash the archers now that im thinking about it #obi wan kenobi

157 notes · View notes

hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Love and Admiration Part 19- Goodnight Princess

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Warnings for brief depiction of sexual harassment (not from Bakugo), unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), degradation, praise kink, dacryphilia (crying kink), overstimulation, and dirty talk

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

As you walk up to the AHA building you spot Aizawa talking to a man with his back to you in a black bomber jacket, a white hood pulled over the back, with a black baseball cap on. Curiosity drives your feet forward a little faster until you get close enough that recognition finally hits and causes you to slow down again. Even with his back to you you’d recognize Bakugo Katsuki anywhere. Part of you wants to turn around and run home, message Aizawa some half hearted excuse about getting tied up in a villain attack and no longer being able to help out. Before you can though Aizawa notices your arrival and waves you over. “Here’s who you’ll be working with,” you hear your former teacher tell Bakugo and just as it sinks in that Bakugo was also clueless as to who he’d been working with, he turns around to see and your heart skips a beat. Yes he looks unfairly attractive the way he always does but what really caught your attention is his outfit. Right there in the center of his white hoodie is a black Mercury symbol, the same symbol stamped somewhere on almost all your merch and the same one you’ve been using as your profile picture on social media since your debut. Bakugo follows your gaze down to the incriminating symbol, his cheeks going bright red. He mutters out an excuse about tossing bags in the car so he can turn away although you’re a little surprised when he extends his hand out to you expectantly. You consider the man in front of you who still won’t meet your gaze. Hurt still burns unpleasantly in your chest but you hand over your duffel bag and with little more than a sheepish glance and nod as acknowledgment, Bakugo moves to the trunk of the car to load it up. “You and Bakugo can handle this right? I saw the news call you a dynamic duo so,” Aizawa asks and you nod immediately. “Yea, we’ve got this. You got nothing to worry about,” you assure the older man. “Good. Get into town, get some rest, one of the local heroes will fill you in on the situation in the morning,” he explains. You nod your understanding and then go to join Bakugo in the car. Once you’re settled in, Bakugo starts up the engine and pulls off into the night.

The silence is awkward. You stare out the window as the cityscape slowly starts to thin out. Once Bakugo pulls the car out onto the highway it doesn’t take long before you’re leaving the city lights behind entirely. When the silence becomes too oppressive you pop open the glove box and root around until you find a USB port. You use your phone charger to plug in your phone, scroll through to one of your chiller playlists, and press play. Music floats through the speakers and you feel yourself relaxing although a quick glance at Bakugo reveals he doesn’t feel the same. He’d discarded his jacket in the backseat once he’d gotten in the car and, as usual, had pushed the long sleeves of the hoodie up to his elbows. As a result it’s easy to see the tense line of his shoulders and the popping veins in his forearms. His grip on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles are almost white. You’ll be genuinely surprised if there aren’t permanent indentations of his fingers in the steering wheel by the time you two reach your destination. You’re tempted to just let him stew in whatever emotions he’s feeling at seeing you again for the first time since you’d hooked up, but then your eyes fall on where your hero name is written on the sleeve of his hoodie and you decide you’re feeling just generous enough to break the silence.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I got you.”

“Yea.”

“Why?”

Bakugo’s hands somehow tighten even more on the steering wheel before he bites out “Because I like it,” defensively. You roll your eyes and return your gaze to the window. No one can say you didn’t try. You’re about to give up and lament your fate to the groupchat when you hear Bakugo sigh next to you. “That’s not it. I mean I do like it but I didn’t think your dumb ass was gonna be here and it’s not the only reason,” Bakugo confesses. “Insulting me is not a strong start but what’s the other reason?” you ask. The pause is long before Bakugo speaks up again to admit, “I’ve missed you.” The incredulous look you give him almost makes him wince. “You’re the one who stopped messaging me you asshole!” “I know that!” “Then you don’t get to miss me!” “Well I don’t know what the fuck to tell you cause I do!” “Then why’d you ghost me?” “I panicked!”

Both of you go silent after that particular admission. This time it’s Bakugo who speaks up to break it. “Look I don’t date,” he sighs. “Who the fuck said I wanted to date you?” you ask defensively, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to apologize.” “Apologize better.” “If you shut the fuck up I will.” “I don’t think apologies are supposed to include telling the other person to shut the fuck up.” “I’m trying here (y/l/n),” Bakugo growls and the almost desperate edge to his voice is enough to make you swallow your next retort, instead motioning for him to continue. “I don’t date and I don’t usually fuck people I enjoy having around. I already fucked up with you enough so I didn’t want to do it again. I panicked and that only made shit worse until I didn’t know how to fix it, ok? People care about me and I’m shit to them, that’s just how it goes. I’m sorry you got caught up in it,” he finally admits.

You weren’t expecting that level of honesty from him, nor were you expecting his answer to be so vulnerable. You turn to face him as much as you can within the confines of the seat of the car and take in his body language. Had he always been this insecure about his relationships with the people around him? Maybe if you hadn’t spent years cataloging his every move and expression from afar you would’ve missed it, but looking at him now he looks cracked open. You get the distinct impression that as small as his list of people he likes is, the list of people he’s allowed to see him like this is even smaller. “That’s not true,” you offer but that only makes Bakugo scoff. “It’s not!” you insist. “I don’t need your fucking pity,” he grumbles. “Jesus Christ you really are an idiot. Midoriya, Kirishima, and Denki all have plenty of other friends asshole. If what you said were true they would’ve dumped you a long time ago so cut the pity party bullshit and give me a real fucking apology so I can forgive you already,” you insist, and it reminds you a little of how he’d encouraged you during the reunion. The glance he shoots you is calculating, as if trying to assess how much you mean those words. “You’re going to forgive me?” he asks skeptically. “With an actual apology? Yea. I swear to god you’re the only one who still sees you as the same person you were when we first got to UA,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. “I’m sorry for ghosting you,” he grumbles out, cheeks slightly flushed as he does so. “Good. You’re forgiven. Now what songs should I play the rest of the drive?”

The ride gets a lot easier after that. You’ve missed Bakugo and it’s nice slipping back into the groove the two of you seem to have with each other. He talks shit about your song choices but you still catch him humming along or tapping the steering wheel to the beat a few times. He reveals he got around to finishing your favorite movie and so you guys spend a long time talking about that and your recommendations for other movies going forward. It’s comfortable and before you know it Bakugo is driving past the welcome sign for the tiny town the two of you will be working in. There’s only one hotel. It’s small and could probably use some updating but it’ll do just fine for the short duration of your trip. As the two of you grab your bags and start to head inside Bakugo asks “What are the odds the old man sprung for us to get our own rooms?” “Doubtful, you know the association is cheap as fuck. It has to be. You’re stuck with me,” you tease. “Guess that ain’t so bad,” Bakugo shrugs, which causes your heart to pound a little harder in your chest. “I’ll check us in if you wanna grab some shit from the vending machine,” Bakugo offers and you easily agree, the two of you heading in opposite directions to complete your tasks.

As you make your way over to the vending machine you catch the attention of a middle aged man, likely another guest, who follows you over that direction. “Well hello beautiful, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing around here?” he calls as he makes his way over. You roll your eyes but otherwise ignore him as you instead focus on selecting something from the machine in front of you. “C’mon hot stuff, don’t ignore me. I can tell you’re a big city chick, probably been around the block right? What’s one more?” he insists, sliding his body in front of you. “Do you mind? I’m trying to grab something,” you reply as levelly as possible. It’s moments like this where you hate the spotlight of heroism. You would love nothing more than to make the man blocking your way move but that would be unbecoming of a role model for future generations. “Aww don’t be like that doll, lighten up,” the man grins before having the audacity to move away from the vending machine just enough to smack your ass. You are livid, your hand immediately grasping hold of his wrist to stop him from touching you again. You whirl on him to tell him off but before you can he’s being wrenched out of your grip and violently tossed to the floor. Before you can even fully process what’s happened Bakugo stands like a wall between you, all fury and fire and brimstone. You haven’t seen him this angry in a very long time and even if the man who’d been hitting on you doesn’t know who Bakugo is, the glare and overall body language is still enough to have him cowering at Bakugo’s feet. “If you ever fucking touch her again, if you so much as fucking look at her, I will make you wish you were never fucking born,” Bakugo growls out and god maybe you do have a murder boner like Nejire said because you should not find any of this hot but you definitely do. The older man scrambles to his feet with a nod and runs off with barely a glimpse behind him and certainly not one in your direction, allowing you and Bakugo to heave a sigh of relief. “I know you had that handled but dude pissed me off,” Bakugo explains. His voice is still rough and anger-laden and you try to ignore the way it sends shivers down your spine. “Thanks Bakugo,” you reply, grateful both for his defense of you and his acknowledgment that you don’t need defending. “Katsuki,” he corrects you immediately. “What?” “You’re not mad at me anymore right?” “No?” “Then call me Katsuki,” he insists gruffly. You can only nod in response, afraid that if you open your mouth something embarrassing will come out of it like how incredibly fucking hot it was watching him defend you or how saying his first name right now is bringing back a few too many memories of when he’d first demanded you use his first name in the alley.

Bakugo leads you to your room as you try in vain to rein in your rampant thoughts. Even as you finally arrive all you can think about is the feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of him filling you up, and what it was like to, for a moment, be the sole owner of his attention. He tosses his stuff on his bed and sits down as you move towards your own but your mind insists on picturing him fucking you relentlessly into it. “What’s up with your face dumbass?” Bakugo suddenly asks and the question makes you jump about a foot in the air, warmth filling your cheeks as you realize you’ve been caught mid-fantasy. “Nothing is up with my face!” you defend and you hope it’s the truth because you can feel how much wetness has pooled in your panties already. Bakugo rises up and stalks towards you and you can’t help but feel like prey, stepping backwards away from him until he’s got you crowded up against the wall. The similarity to that day in the alley is not lost on you and it only makes things worse. “What’s running through that head of yours princess?” he asks and the nickname is too much, a breathless curse slipping past your lips unbidden. You don’t have much time to be embarrassed by how obviously flustered you’re getting because one of Katsuki’s hands finds your waistband as if on instinct at the sound of you breathless. “If you don’t stop I won’t be able to hold back,” he admits and you can tell by the flush in his cheeks that he means it. “I thought you don’t sleep with people you like,” you reply with bated breath. “You’re the exception,” he growls out, pressing closer before seeming to think better of it and closing his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as if trying desperately to control himself, before adding “if you want to be.” “God yes,” you reply and no sooner have the words left your mouth is he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips as if he’s been quietly suffocating and you’re the last bit of oxygen left.

Katsuki tugs you away from the wall and you go easily, allowing him to push you towards your mattress until you’re lying down on it and he can comfortably hover over you, his lips barely leaving yours the entire time. It doesn’t take long to get you both down to your underwear, the entire process a blur. “You’re such a fucking mess for me princess,” Bakugo practically purrs as he runs his fingers along the damp fabric of your panties. Your hips buck up into the attention eagerly as you nod your agreement at the statement. “Yea, it’s only for you,” you tell him breathlessly and it might’ve been embarrassing if not for the way it draws a deep, satisfied growl from Katsuki’s chest his mouth dropping to your neck and then your chest and working further and further down. “Think you deserve a better apology then I gave you in the car,” he says suddenly looking up the length of your body to find your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask with what little breath you have in your lungs. “I’ve always been better at doing shit than talking. You thought that apology before was good just wait,” he grins up at you cockily and it already has your stomach doing somersaults even before his teeth find the waistband of your panties and start tugging them down your legs. The moan you release at the sight is completely unfettered as your already dripping wet pussy clenches desperately around nothing. Katsuki is nothing if not a tease so even once he’s done with your panties he doesn’t immediately head to the main course. He lavishes attention on your inner thighs, leaving countless hickeys in his wake but no matter how much you whine and squirm he shows no signs of moving his mouth to where you really want it. “Katsuki,” you finally whine desperately. “What is it princess?” he asks and you can feel him smirking against you, the bastard. “I don’t think apologies are supposed to be teasing like this,” you pant. “Oh really now? You got something to say about my apology princess?” Bakugo asks, the smirk sliding away. “I think you’re not much better at this kind of apology than spoken ones.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t realize my princess was such a whore. You want my mouth that bad? You want to cum that bad?” Katsuki asks and there’s an edge to his voice you’re pretty sure means trouble for you but you nod anyway. “Please Katsuki.” “Well if my princess wants to be a greedy fucking slut then so be it,” he agrees in that same lethal tone before diving in to devour you with an intense voracity you’re unprepared for. You moan loudly, hands grasping hard onto the blankets as he licks a hard swipe all the way from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit before pulling the nub into his mouth and sucking hard. He continues to lave attention on your sensitive clit even as he shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt and starts setting a brutal pace. Eventually he brings his free hand to take over for his mouth and stimulate your clit while he moves his tongue to join his fingers, stuffing you absolutely full. The attention is almost overwhelming and it isn’t long until you’re seeing stars, crying out Katsuki’s name. As you come down from your high you realize Katsuki is still pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Katsu- ah!” you cut yourself off with a shout as he resumes massaging your swollen clit. “S-slow down,” you moan but if anything it only makes him move his fingers more aggressively. You grit your teeth, grasping the blankets even more tightly. “What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this,” he taunts as he pushes you into your second orgasm of the night.

Your entire body is tingling now, thoughts filled only with Katsuki, but he still hasn’t stopped and you’ve never been so overstimulated in your life. “Kas’ki ‘s too much,” you moan, eyes watering as he continues to relentlessly massage your almost painfully sensitive clit. “Don’t tell me my greedy little slut is done already. I still haven’t filled you up yet,” he teases you as he finally removes his finger only to line his dick up with your entrance instead. “Come on baby, I think you’ve got one more in you. Don’t you want to be good for me?” he asks and every inch of your body is saying that you should tap out but instead you find yourself nodding. “Use your words baby.” “Wanna be good for you,” you pant and the devilish grin you get in response has your heart practically in your throat. Slowly but surely Bakugo starts pushing into you. It’s so much, too much, stimulation but even as tears start to run down your cheeks you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. He curses under his breath as he finally bottoms out inside you, taking a moment to collect himself so it won’t be over too soon. As he starts moving he lavishes you with praise while all you can do is whine and whimper, alternating between barely intelligible expressions of how fucking good it all feels and broken cries of his name. “God you look so fucking beautiful like this. You know that? Fucking gorgeous,” he groans as his hips move faster and faster. You can tell when he’s close, his rhythm starting to get sloppier. “You ready to give me that third one baby? Can you do that for me?” he asks and you nod frantically, coasting along that razor thin edge between pleasure and pain. He leans down to kiss you then, swallowing each broken sound you make, as he rocks into you harder and harder until you’re both too strung out to do much more than pant and breathe into each other’s mouths. You topple over the ledge first but Katsuki isn’t far behind, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. You sob out his name one final time as praises pour from his lips about how perfect you were for him. “Knew you could do it for me princess. So good for me,” he sighs as he continues to paint your insides white.

When Bakugo is finally spent, he rolls over and practically collapses next to you. You both have to take a minute to recover, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Unsurprisingly, Bakugo recovers first so he carefully pulls back the covers before bringing them back up to drape over the two of you. “You good?” he asks, eyes scanning over your body as if trying to catalogue any damage he might’ve done. “More than good,” you sigh contentedly. “Good. C’mere,” he commands and you’re more than happy to oblige, allowing him to pull you against his chest. He carefully wipes the tears away from your cheeks before wrapping you more fully into his arms. “I take back what I said,” you mumble into his chest, exhaustion creeping in as the steady beat of his heart starts to lull you to sleep. “What are you on about now?” he asks, but the fondness in his tone belies the harshness of his words. “You’re fucking amazing at apologies,” you mumble. “Shut up and go to sleep dumbass,” he replies but you can practically hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Goodnight Katsuki.”

“Goodnight Princess.”

A/N: Apologies are difficult for Bakugo. He’s a very actions speak louder than words kinda guy. Also as funny a trope as the whole “forced to share one bed at a hotel/motel cause there are no other rooms” trope is, it’s more meaningful to me if there are two beds and they still choose to share.

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys

#hopelessla #bakugo smau #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katsuki #hopeless.thirst

138 notes · View notes