#this heatwave has been driving me up the wall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plzu · 2 years

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heatwave - (Adrian Chase/Vigilante x afab!Reader)

Summary: Adrian finds a way to help cool you down during a brutal heatwave. (aka Adrian Chase is a menace with some ice cubes)

Warnings: MATURE/EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY, no Y/N, temperature play (ice cubes), oral (f receiving), bratty/cranky reader (due to the heat), no gendered terms are used to describe reader but they got thiddies and bagina

A/N: it's been a chilly spring so far so i wrote this up in an attempt to warm me up. also please be advised that i am a clown, and cannot write adrian fic without my clownery seeping in. i... apologize in advance.

Word Count: 3.5k +

It’s one of those hot summer days where the heat is suffocating, clinging heavy to the air. So bad that it still smothers you even once the sun starts to slip low beneath the horizon and leaves behind a chittering and sticky dusk.

It makes you cranky. Adrian picks up Thai for dinner, to placate you. He had suggested sandwiches - a nice turkey and provolone with crisp, cool bites of lettuce and thin tomato slices sounds ideal for the weather, but you begged to differ.

“Thai is refreshing,” you insisted.

“Hot food that can be spicy,” he countered, “versus a nice cold sandwich with a bag of chips and a chilled bottle of soda? Sorry, but you’re out of your mind. No offense.”

“Yeah, but the, the coconut milk, Adrian. In the curry.”

The heat turns your voice petulant. You were whiny, and stubborn, and you don’t usually behave like an overgrown toddler and it’s driving Adrian crazy. You had even stamped your bare foot on the linoleum floor.

His fists had raised to rest on his hips in disapproval at that.

Having the good grace to at least be embarrassed by your tantrum, you sheepishly added, “...and I really want Thai iced tea.”

And so he relented. Not without a snappish then why don’t you just say that- (he hates snapping at you but the heat is kind of getting to him, too, and you are being unbearable because you normally are more forthright with him, and if you banter it’s usually with laughter creasing your mouth because you enjoy messing with him. Now you were just being a mess.)

That wasn’t even the only argument you had today.

“Please, Adrian, please open the window. It’s so hot.” This exasperated him because you guys had the fan on in the apartment and you had scolded him countless times about rolling down the car window when the AC was on. He even reminded you of this. You sucked your teeth and pouted and he found it, quite frankly, insane how cute you looked whilst driving him up the fucking wall.

This heatwave is the closest he’s ever felt the itch to murder you.

(You caught him glancing towards the knife block in the kitchen when you were mid-complaint about the stuffiness. “Oh. Oh, I dare you.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t say anything!”)

Dinner is eaten in the living room, take-out containers littering the coffee table while some superhero movie plays on the tv. You usually take the time to savor the Thai iced tea but it’s gone in a few greedy gulps. When you eye Adrian’s, he notices and pushes it further away from your reach.

“Meanie,” you pout.

“Yeah, well, you’re a tea kettle.”

“...huh?”

“And I’m a pot? Because you’re hot. And the tea kettle boils water for tea, which is also hot. And pots are used to heat up food.”

“Adrian, what the fuck are you saying.”

“I don’t know! I’m saying you’ve been mean to me all day, and I’m not sharing my drink with you.”

You grumble, but the fight has left you. You exerted all your energy into being a needless brat while the day was still bright and smotheringly warm. The evening cools some of your nerves, even if there’s no real reprieve from the climate overall. The food sates you enough, makes you feel almost-content, and when you’re done eating, you stretch out your limbs and press your left foot against Adrian’s bare thigh, where he sits on the opposite end of the small couch.

With a full belly, the veil of annoyance has partially lifted and you’re finally able to admire your pantsless boyfriend. He’s still eating - Adrian’s so careful and patient and doesn’t scarf down food like you do, apparently - and you watch in amusement as he keeps having to push his glasses back up as it slides down the bridge of his nose now and then, and laughs at parts of the movie that don’t look like they were intended to be funny.

He’s wearing nothing but a baggy t-shirt that sticks to wherever he’s sweating, and trunks - teal - because who in their right mind could possibly wear pants on a day like today? His muscled thighs are still pale from work - shorts weren’t allowed at Fennel Fields, and he didn’t exactly have a summer version of the Vigilante suit. You hope you can find time on another day (less scorching than this one, more bearable) to take him to the beach and expose his body to the sun. Let him relax outside, not just train in the woods.

(God, you want to sink your teeth into the meat of his thighs.)

He makes comments about the movie. You’re not really listening - too focused on the hair at the nape of his neck curling cutely, tempting you to tug on it. You would, if you weren’t sprawled out, limbs akimbo, with the top half of your body resting sluggishly on your end of the couch. Instead, your eyes continue to trail the juncture of his neck still flushed pink with heat, the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the enticing sheen of sweat that the old, pitiful floor fan is doing a poor job of drying off.

You don’t necessarily want the sweat dried off his neck, now that you think about it. In fact, you maybe, sort of, want to make it worse somehow. With your tongue.

But it’s still too damn hot to move.

You sigh, disgruntled. Frustrated. The sound draws Adrian’s attention. He puts down his food, decidedly done, and picks up his drink. “Don’t worry. I think I have an idea on how to cool you down,” he reassures.

Adrian hasn’t been anywhere near as bad a crank as you’ve been all day. In fact, he’s been accommodating despite his clear impatience with your surly mood.

“How are you being so… chill? Excuse the pun, or whatever.”

“What do you mean?” he asks before taking a sip of his drink. “Wow, this is good. Surprises me every time. Good call, babe.”

“You see? That, right there. You’ve been so… impressively calm today. Relatively. How hasn’t the heat gotten to you? You’re usually such a crybaby about discomfort.”

“No, I’m not!” he counters. You raise your eyebrows at his whiny tone. “I mean-” he corrects, deepening his voice- “I’m not a crybaby. I react normally to things. Complaining about the supermarket being out of 2-ply toilet paper is valid, and you know it!” You huff. “And, I don’t know- I guess I’m accustomed to high temperatures ‘cause of the suit.”

“Okay, but you probably don’t have to do your hero thing when it’s hot out,” you point out. “It’s way too hot to commit crime.”

Adrian perks up, green eyes gleaming behind his frames. “Actually, that’s not necessarily true! Sure, on a day like today, who has the energy? But studies show the likelihood of assault actually increases as the weather gets warmer.”

“Huh. That’s weird,” you say, a little disbelievingly.

He starts popping the ice cubes from his drink into his mouth and talking around them. “Is it? I mean, you were kind of fighting me all day. So you tell me.”

You want to argue. That doesn’t count!, except, doesn’t it? You wanted to throttle his beautiful neck when he ate the last icee from the freezer that afternoon. (“You said you didn’t want any!” “I was saving it for later!” “Why are you crying!?”)

Also, wanting to argue in the first place probably further proves his point. Fuck.

Time ticks by with you sprawled out on the couch, limbs laying languidly away from your own body. The only thing you can stand to touch is Adrian, your foot pressed comfortably into his thigh as he continues chewing his ice. Which is odd, by the way. He’s never been one to chew ice. Says it’s bad for your teeth, or whatever. But you shrug it off, blame it on the heat. This one time exception in an attempt to keep cool.

Besides, watching his jaw work as he crushes them between his molars is… captivating, to say the least.

“Hey,” he calls to you. Voice breaking the silence in a tone he probably didn’t mean to come out so loud.

You blink at him, meeting his intense gaze. “Yeah?”

“Are you still hot?”

“...yeah?”

His look breaks away from yours to rove down your body in that hungry, appreciative way of his - at your exposed clavicle, at the cami clinging to your breasts, at the way your legs are spread (in a pair of his trunks, by the way- “They’re so airy,” you explained to him when he stumbled over his words at the sight of you in his underwear, “I’m trying to avoid swampass.”) It feels like your body heats up impossibly more under his scrutiny.

Adrian’s tongue darts out to quickly lick his lips, and he grins, snapping his attention back to your warmed face. “Great.”

He stands and goes to the kitchen, but not without tidying up the coffee table first. Neatly stacking the leftovers and throwing away whatever empty containers there are. He’s good that way- organized. Can’t stand to leave things cluttered or left open for too long. Even when he gets distracted, sidetracked, mind going elsewhere, his body automatically continues putting things in their place.

Like when he’s fucking you.

The entire time he’s putting things away in the kitchen, he’s talking very casually about the movie. As if he wasn’t just eye-fucking you on the couch. “Don’t you think that captain or whatever is a clear ripoff of Peacemaker?”

“What?” You glance, frowning, at the star-spangled character on the tv. Adrian made you wet without even touching you and now he’s asking for your opinion on some fictional superhero.

“You know. The helmet? The patriotism? He’s just some watered down version of Peacemaker.”

Adrian comes back from the kitchen with a cup full of ice. You eye it warily as he places it down carefully on a coaster. He continues prattling with disdain about this inaccurate version of Peacemaker.

Adrian has disoriented you. Your mind is reeling with arguments about how very unlike Peacemaker this character is, but your pussy is still uncomfortably damp from Adrian’s intense stare down a few moments before. Needing to soothe the pressure below, you start to sit up on the couch, bringing your right foot up from the floor so you can properly and discreetly bring your thighs together-

Adrian stops mid-sentence, hand darting to your knee to stop your legs from closing. “You gotta keep your legs open for me,” he says, your name on his mouth cementing the demand. His smoldering gaze meets yours, and it makes something blossom pleasurably low in your belly when he tacks on a, “please?”

Your thighs shake- it takes everything in you not to snap your legs close in response to his words, crushing his fingers between your knees. A pathetic little sound vibrates in your throat- his pupils dilate when he hears it.

Your legs remain where they are- quivering- not closing but unable to fully open again. Adrian situates himself so his right knee presses down into the cushion between your ankles. He presses the flat of his palm - warm, but nothing compared to the blaze of heat of your flesh right now - against your inner right thigh. A firm but gentle demand to spread open for him. Your thighs part slowly and he watches in perverse fascination as the action reveals that lovely secret spot of skin through the trunks, where the flesh meets your outer lips.

(Adrian can see a sliver of that, too- wants to put his mouth upon it. Consume you. Inhale you. But that just wouldn’t do right now. If he wants to torture you for what a brat you’ve been today, he needs to practice patience.)

“I know you probably think you can get away with being so mean to me because you’re hot,” he starts, smiling cheekily as his head does a delighted little bob from side to side at his double entendre- “and I usually like it! You know I do. But you were extra difficult today.”

He delicately reaches his fingers into the cup on the coffee table, scooping out a cube of ice that’s already starting to melt.

“And I just don’t think it’s fair,” he continues. “I can’t control the weather. But I can do my best to cool you down.”

He trails the ice cube against the soft flesh of your inner thigh, achingly close to that crevice near your heat. You hiss- the sudden cold contact against your blazing skin making you jolt. It’s a painful kind of relief. The liquid as it melts trails down until you can’t quite tell if the wet it from the ice or your own quickly dampening cunt.

“You know, you still haven’t apologized.”

His words make you feel guilty but the tone makes excitement course through your veins. Adds to the goose bumps that raise on your skin from the cool touch of ice. You bite back the urge to apologize, though. If only because maybe you aren’t that sorry if being mean to him led to this.

The ice cube finally becomes too small and runny for Adrian to maintain any sort of grip on it. He dips his fingers with the quickly dissolving cube into your underwear, drags it tantalizingly against the hot crease of your folds, making you gasp. “Adrian.”

“Is it working?”

You slowly bat your eyes at him, lost through the haze of wanting.

When did your jaw go slack?

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes- no- I don’t…”

It’s a struggle to answer. Do you feel better? He’s cooling you down and firing you up all at once. He’s making you wet. Your mouth feels dry. A whisper of a memory of some ancient commercial quickly flits through your mind - Is this how it feels to chew 5 gum - a small puff of air leaves your lips in a breathless chuckle.

Adrian’s lips turn down in a worrying frown, and he tsk’s. “Not enough, huh?” He brings his right hand up to you chest, curling his fingers into the top hem of your cami. The feel of them against your breasts - warmth against warmth - makes your pussy clench. “May I?”

You stare dazedly at his knuckles in your shirt. Your tongue pokes out to wet your lips. Your skin feels hyper-aware of anything and everything that’s touching it- Adrian’s fingers, the cloth of the underwear sticking to your sodden slit, and, distantly, the arm of the couch pressed against your sweaty shoulder blades. Your gaze drags away from his fingers and meets his eager eyes.

You nod.

In one fluid motion, Adrian yanks down your cami so that your breasts spill out, tits bunching together between the strain of the straps and the fabric framing them.

If the heat and lust weren’t clouding your brain, you’d be impressed with Adrian for withholding from immediately putting a nipple in his mouth. He usually descends upon them as soon as they’re exposed. Like, mid-conversation.

Instead, he takes another ice cube from the glass and circles it around your nipple, mesmerized at the way it immediately pebbles at the contact. Your hips buck- again that bite of cold against balmy flesh.

“Cool,” Adrian all but sighs.

He continues his ministrations, alternating from one breast to the other, giving equal attention to both. Your hips continue to buck, embarrassingly, frustratingly, against nothing- if only his thigh were closer- Fingers curled against the fabric of the couch on either side of you, you try to chase whatever friction you can get until Adrian decides to finally ease some of your suffering.

But only some.

While the ice melts in his right hand as he continues to drag it against your supple flesh, his left hand presses firmly down against your mound, holding you securely to the couch. You whine until you feel his thumb press against your clit through the trunks.

Between the cool soothing wet on your tits and the hot aching wet in your underwear, you think you might pass out.

Adrian was enjoying teasing you, making you fall apart, but his grin begins to falter as he watches your squirm. He’s hard for you- the self-restraint starts to slip. His hands are busy on your body so the only thing he can do is jut his hips forward- you feel the tent he’s pitching brush against your leg and it makes you lose your mind.

It all builds to something- makes you go blind with it- but just as your orgasm begins to crest, it all gets ripped away.

“Whew, that was close,” Adrian breathes. “Sorry, but I’m not ready to let you come just yet. ”

Your chest heaves with exertion. Can feel the melted ice mix with your sweat between your tits. It feels like you’re falling back down before even getting the chance to properly take off.

Perhaps you will give into that earlier urge to strangle him. “Asshole.”

He adjusts himself in his underwear, grinning stupidly at you, before popping another ice cube into his mouth. Absentmindedly shoves his frames back into place as they had slid down again.

“As good as you look in my underwear, I’m going to need you to take them off now.”

It only takes a second for you to process his request before you hastily begin to wiggle out of the damned things. They were so comfortable before; now they’re just in the way.

Adrian laughs at your desperation but curses as the ice falls from his mouth and begins to soak a spot into the couch between you both. “Fuck.”

He’s quick to replace the ice cube as you fucking teehee at him in retribution.

The thing is, your tits are out and your legs are spread in a silent invitation, cunt weeping, so the insta-karma is short lived. Because Adrian sucks at the ice in his mouth - you can hear the slurp of it behind his teeth - spits the partially dissolved cube back into the glass before his head plunges down, latching his cool lips and tongue around your throbbing clit.

He sucks on the rosy bud, and it punches the air out of your lungs.

Your eyes widen, head thrown back against the armrest, both hands flying out to grip at Adrian’s curls between your thighs. Your pelvis digs into his face to chase the cold, chase the relief, and he hums. Adrian’s hands grip at your hips in an attempt to keep you still, because of course he’s not done being in charge.

His tongue does what his thumb couldn’t before, touches you directly, and wetly, and so agonizing-

“Ohhh m-m-m-myygodddd-”

You yank at his hair to spur him on- faster..!- but it just makes him moan into you, hips rutting once into the couch before regaining composure. His tongue slides down to dip between your slit and finally lap up at the collection of moisture that’s been gathering there.

“P-puh-please Adrian, I wan-wannnuh-!”

You try to make eye contact as you beg for him to let you come, but his glasses have fogged up and, quite frankly, it’s kind of hard for you to see through the tears welling up in your eyes.

He comes up for air, but not without dragging his tongue against your folds, and swiftly removes his glasses. “That won’t do. I want to see you,” he needlessly explains, before continuing to go down on you.

The cold has dissipated from his mouth by now, but neither of you really care. The warm, sticky friction between your legs is intoxicating. Adrian loses himself in it, begins rutting against the couch cushions in earnest now as he makes warbly cries spill from your open mouth. As wet as you are, two of his fingers slip easily into you, and he begins to pump- build upon that pressure that was there before, that had you so close before he rudely tore it away from you.

His fingers crook perfectly up and into you, and you swear on your life that Adrian Chase was put on this wretched Earth specifically to eat you out-

When you come, it is with a loud, broken wail that bounces off the walls of the apartment.

Adrian groans as you squirm into his face, fingers still working you as your orgasm ebbs. All that effort to cool you down gone to waste- you’re sweatier than before.

Quivering, you yank forcefully at his hair again, tearing him away from you. You look down at him between your quaking thighs - take in his flushed face and the soft, brown curls that stick to his sweaty forehead. Looking cherubic despite his pupils eclipsing the green of his eyes- despite making you come with his skilled and ungodly mouth.

He smiles at you through the shiny glean of your juices that coats the lower half of his face. “It’s a good thing we kept the windows closed, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you grip his hot face between your hands and draw him up into a slippery, sultry kiss- licking into his mouth to taste your aftermath. When the kiss breaks, it breaks wetly, lips linked by a salacious strand of spit.

“Let me suck your dick in the shower?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #peacemaker #mine #writing #adrian chase #vigilante #fanfic #adrian chase eats pussy like a champ but what else is new?#i'll start working on a masterlist asap i swearrrr

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faultfindingfirebot · 2 years

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Ok I don't know if you know this but there's this HC going around that Heatwave is a former decepticon, that being an explanation to his almost immediate violent or aggressive actions. Your thoughts, mun?

[Disclaimer: This is my OPINION and you ASKED for it. If you feel differently then that’s fine. You do you, Boo. Love, Cat ❤️]

Um… Heatwave isn’t violent….

Easily aggravated yes, but I can’t recall any point in the series where he’s actually gotten physically violent or aggressive with anyone... Even when he could have seriously hurt Doctor Morocco (off screen of course) for threatening Cody and Frankie, all he did was pin him to the wall unharmed

Watch the others’ reactions when he’s growling in frustration at them or stepping toward them. No one flinches away, no one cowers, because they know damn well that he won’t hurt them and how much he cares about them! Is he sarcastic? Yes. Does he throw insults? Also yes. But the others straight up throw it right back at him, fearlessly. He gets in High Tide’s face for yelling at Blades and is incredibly upset when the Squilsh eats Chase and does everything he can to get him back. He’s always the first one in (barring situations where one of the others is more knowledgeable) and always the last one out (again barring situations where someone more knowledgeable has to take care of it.) He. Loves. His. Teammates!

Okay, imagine landing on a completely alien planet and finding out that, while you’ve been ‘asleep’, your entire planet, your home, has fallen. You meet up with the guy in charge of taking down the bastards who destroyed your planet and tell him “Let’s go get ‘em!!!” Only to be immediately shot down and told: “Nope, you’re staying right here. And furthermore, you can’t tell anyone who you are or where you’re from… You and your team are basically going into the witness protection program on this tiny island.”

As if THAT’S not enough, you get paired with this complete aft who, even after learning what and who you are, still refuses to acknowledge you as anything more than a simple tool of his trade.

Heatwave has every right to feel resentful and angry in season 1. While the rest of his team is making headway and bonding with their partners, Kade is still treating him like crap. Plus, I imagine he just feels like he’s let Optimus down by not being there when Cybertron needed protecting, so he wants to make up for it by joining the actual battle, but Optimus keeps brushing him off, so that’s not helping his mood either.

Heatwave is very team oriented, he hates the fact that his team is being made to act like mindless robots, he wants his team to be able to join Optimus in fighting the Decepticons. In fact, when Optimus finally does make him an offer, as a test, Heatwave is flattered, but won’t go unless his team is included.

It’s really REALLY difficult for me to imagine Heatwave as a Decepticon. It takes a lot of selfish ambition to stray from a job that prides itself on helping others and working as part of a team, to a position where you’re constantly striving to outshine everyone else just so you can live to be backstabbed by a ‘teammate’ or punished by your boss another day…

I CAN see him admiring Megatronus’s original idea to do away with the caste system and making everyone more equal, but I think it would become clear to him very quickly just how far Megatron’s ideals have fallen if he ever witnessed a Decepticon recruitment drive or something like that.

This boy is about as antithetical to a Decepticon as it’s possible to get.

#mun tag: cat's paw prints #[character study]#[this took HOURS but I’m happy with it]

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koskimakiforsberg · 4 months

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Its wednesday night, july, the heatwaves been and gone, its back to gray skies and humid rain, the heat may return in late august or it may be another year till we see the sun again. For two unbearable weeks, the city comes to a standstill, heat so wet you can taste it in the air, the mix of water particles in the air, sweat and grease creates a foul smelling cocktail, dressed with petrol fumes and the everpresent stench of piss and rubbish that seems unbudgeable even in the coldest months. Heat here is unbearable, the sun is hardly present for it hidden under a duvet of industrial clouds, the buildings retain the heat, cooking us alive within their thick stone, lobsters being boiled in their own shells, only redder. I remember a train ride, wall to wall bodies, sticky, blotchy, the colour of curdled milk, perhaps it was the dense soggy heat bubble on the carriage or the pure exhaustion of having finished one job only to be venturing to another, but on that midsummer day, i passed out on public transport in the midday sun.

Its been 24hrs since I was last at work. I'm twitchy, uncomfortable, and can't seem to sit still. Days off are easy, see your friends, read a book, smoke…a lot. It's the nights. When you train your body to withstand a certain level of labour, you become accustomed to a push of adrenaline at the same time most people begin to wind down. I can't sleep like I used to, I pass out, its the only way i know, by either physical or mental exhaustion. Once upon a time, i worked 52 hours a week, twelve hours a shift, night shift. Now i cant seem to handle three days on without having some obtuse side affect to my sleep. When i worked night shift at the warehouse, it was easy, ewe were a team, pushing and building boxes, shovelling shit into containers, wrapping and lifting, moving shit around, then before you know it, its 9am and you’re headed to the bus stop. Now, its just me. Theres no team, theres no boxes, no shit shovelling, just me and toad dressed up a prince aka my glass cleaner with dishwasher soap pumped into it. I work around 14 hours a day, the skin tends to peel off my fingers when the days are too humid, which is often, my back has an untieable knot, my hands crack when i move them and my feet could be mistaken for a man twice my age’s. I used to handle two jobs i can barely function doing the three shifts i do know, ive been sapped of stamina, of care and of any semblance of work ethic, i cut, i mice, i peel, i scrub, i rinse and i go home. The walk to the bus stop, fifteen minutes away feels as if my ankles are seconds away from rolling away down the hill, leaving me with stubs to collapse and bleed into the gravel pavement in front of the hordes and crowds rushing to find the cheapest drink, the quickest high, and the loudest music. Sometimes i can only dream of being swallowed up, consumed by the people passing by, to be taken away to wherever their waves take me, i unfortunately, will always end up at my bus stop waiting for a service that may or may not turn up. The use of personal pronouns make it sound as if this my story, but the experiences i speak of are shared amongst all my peers, coworkers, old friends, neighbours.

My mother talks of her generation migrating to London, the only place with jobs, a flood of glaswegians, headed toward one of the biggest cities in the world to find any semblance of a job, now my generation could only dream of that choice, we can barely afford to live in our own city, nevermind a place like that, we’re goldfish stuck, turning in the same cramped bowl, forced to swallow the same shit day in and day out. Minimum wage joy suckers are our only option, no matter the talent or prowess, the ability or the drive, we all end up bending over backwards serving, cooking or cleaning for the general public.

I dont believe in playing the victim, self pity was booted out of my repertoire pretty soon after my first shift scrubbing dishes for 16 hours, but i do believe in the truth. Thats what this is, the truth. A frank telling of the exploitative, mind numbing, capitalist hellscape of modern hospitality. What may have been an industry driven by love and passion for eating and drinking is now a mainstay of our patriarchal late stage capitalist orwellian nightmare world.

#my writing #writing #prose

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick, laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”

#my fics #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #smut #henry cavill request #henry cavill requests #my requests #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill reader #henry cavill reader insert #henry cavill reader inserts #rpf #fanfiction #henry cavill oneshot

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toorusluvr · 3 years

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ CALIFORNIA: IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

characters: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

cw: car sex, unprotected sex (please use protection if you hate kids), iwaizumi has a praising kink! mutual pining lol. if there's more let me know.

wc: 3k

crossposted on my ao3 🤍

The gush of the sudden heatwave was unbearable, you must admit. Stepping foot in California, a foreign country with no one to pick you up at the airport, felt awkward and scary at the same time. Your only goal was to visit your best friend, Iwaizumi, at the college he was studying at. Your plan was to give him a call once you arrived at the destination soon.

Taking a cab from the airport, the beach view came into your sight. The way your eyes shimmered at the beautiful view of people surfing and enjoying themselves at the beach was enough to tell that you actually had a great start being here. Iwa must have had an enjoyable time being here.. Is he homesick? It suddenly popped into your mind. He must be having a great time being in California. The weather’s great, and the scenery is pleasant.

The cab driver helped you with your luggage, though it wasn’t as handful as the other tourists, you still need help getting your big luggage out from the trunk. You heaved a deep sigh, breathless after dragging your luggage onto the concrete pathway. Without stalling your time, you searched for your phone in the pocket of your pants. Scrolling through your contacts, you finally found his contact number.

Within the first three rings, he picked up your call. His raspy voice greeting you the first thing. You heard he cleared his throat. “Hey, why are you calling me? Isn’t it like 11 in the morning there? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, considering your fucked up sleeping schedule?” a laughter was followed after he nagged you.

You laughed, entertained by his own way of making fun of you. “If I was in Tokyo, then the answer is yes. But I am not in Tokyo, to be frankly speaking!” you were hoping he would catch on to what you were saying. Your presence here was to surprise him, after all!

Iwaizumi had just finished training at the local gym. He wiped the beads of sweats forming on his forehead with the towel hanging around his neck. He glanced over the clock on the wall, 6:15 p.m. Don’t tell me that you are here? he thought. “What are you on, Y/N? Are you talking in your sleep right now?”

This guy, you grunted softly. He caught on but he was afraid if his instinct was not telling him the right thing. “What a dumbass. I’m here in California, you idiot. Come and pick me up at your college! I don’t know your home address for God’s sake!” you burst out. The heat was killing you and please God, can he be quick to pick you up?

He deadass laughed at you. “Are you for real? Oh my goodness! Aight, just give me 10 minutes! I just finished working out. Stay where you are, I am coming to get you!” Iwaizumi rushed to take a quick shower in the shower room. He has to look and smell nice before meeting you. Of course, he would.

“Make it 5, Hajime. I swear to God!” you said, lowkey threatening him. You looked like you were stranded in front of his college with your luggage beside you. Standing awkwardly while the passersby looking at you up and down with a questionable look on their faces.

His sinister laughter made you unknowingly clenched your thighs together. “I swear I’ll be quick. Just stay where you are! Don’t follow any strangers!”

Being the petty friend you are, you counted how long it took for Iwaizumi Hajime to come and get you. He took exactly 7 minutes and 39 seconds to come to your rescue. The matte black range rover parked in front you. Iwaizumi got out of the driver’s seat hurriedly. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were coming, dumbass?” he ruffled your hair. Trying to look good for him ended up being ruined by the person himself.

You rolled your eyes, “Obviously, it’s a surprise visit! Can’t you tell them apart or what?” you laughed, unable to hold your laughter any longer. “Nice car, by the way!”

“It's not mine. I had to borrow it from a friend to pick you up” Iwaizumi told, taking in your luggage into the trunk. He opened the passenger’s seat door for you -- his hand rested on the windshield, ensuring your head to be safe. You mumbled a soft thank you before he got to the driver’s seat.

“Where are you staying, by the way? It's dangerous to be out there all alone. Or, aren’t you afraid?” he asked, his right hand turning the steering wheel to drive out of his campus area.

You hummed, “There's a hotel nearby here I booked. But, if you wanted to pay the expenses for me, it’d be nice!”

Both of you burst into laughter, knowing too well both of you are joking around and no hard feelings involved! “Since you are here, let’s go to In-N-Out that you’ve always talked about” Iwaizumi suggested, his eyes glanced over you in the passenger’s seat. You looked excited to try out the fast food franchise you’ve been wanting to try.

It felt like old times, hanging out with your best friend even in a foreign country feels exactly the same. The skies were getting darker as time passed by. About half before 9, both of you headed to his friend’s car. Iwaizumi needed to send you off before midnight. It's unsafe for you to be alone, especially at this hour.

Sitting in the expensive car, both of you enjoyed talking about anything and everything. Time doesn’t seem to be passing by when both of you are together. How badly Iwaizumi wants you to be there for him every single day. He hesitated to ask you, but it’s now or never, Hajime.

“Uh, why did you come to visit me? Why not Oikawa?” he laughed, an uneasy feeling creeped into his heart. Did he make a mistake? He was just asking a question. There's no way you’ll be offended, right?

Shrugging off your nervousness, you covered it up with a lie. “Apparently, California is much cheaper than Argentina. So, I decided to visit you first before meeting Oikawa. Sounds like a genius idea, no?”

Great, now you looked like a pathetic liar. That doesn’t fascinate him, not even a bit. “Oh- that sounds like a great plan, by the way” he laughed. “You know, I am honored to be the first friend you visited!”

You smiled, trying to think of a sentence to reply. “Yeah, you should be.” Fidgeting with your fingers only made you look like a liar. You turned to look at him, both of you fell into an awkward somehow comfortable silence.

“I think I have fallen in love with you” Iwaizumi confessed. He paused for a moment, “No. Actually, I am in love with you.” He looked serious, yes he was. He had been waiting for this moment to come and it’s finally time to confess. It's about time to tell you the truth.

“Wh-what? Are you kidding or what?” you chuckled nervously. Between him and you, you’ve always thought it’ll be you who make the first move but your assumption was wrong.

“No, I am not kidding” he looked at you straight in the eyes.

Your fingers brushed over your face which is now slightly warmer than usual. You disclosed the gap between both of you, “What if I tell you I am in love with you too?”

Iwaizumi's lips formed into a smile. He didn’t know how to put his thoughts into words, but he was thankful for your presence. Closing the gap between both of you, he moved his hand to your face. His palm cupping your face and pressed his lips on your lips with a tender kiss. “Is this fine?”

With your eyes closed, you nodded confidently. You have always loved how considerate Iwaizumi is with others. “Yes, please.”

Both of you kissed for the first time ever. There was a taste of love instead of lust from two individuals who are looking for home in the right person. Brushing your lips with his thumb, he looked at you once again. “Do you want this? Are we taking things too fast?”

You chuckled softly, “It’s fine, Hajime. It's not like we don’t want this in the first place.” Your eyes looking into his green eyes, before a smile appeared on his face. He nodded, agreeing with what you said.

“Let’s get to the backseat” he whispered, nibbling on the sensitive spot under your ear while his hands caressing both sides of your face. You climbed to the backseat, adrenaline pumping in your system. Iwaizumi gently laid you on the leather seat, spreading your legs so he could be in between your legs.

He easily removed your thin top, unzipping your pants that it slid over your legs so easily. The sudden cold of the night sent shivers down to your spine. “Are you sure you’re fine with this?” he interrupted your thoughts. You held his face in your hands, “I will never regret this moment, Hajime. Trust me.”

You have convinced him to not hold himself back. He nibbled on your sensitive spot over and over again, leaving deep purple hickeys all over your beautiful neck. Clinging your legs onto his waist, you arched lewdly to his touch while your tongues clashing with each other.

Iwaizumi placed his hands on your bare thighs, brushing his fingers over your inner thighs crucially slow. You whimpered softly, your body kept on asking for him to give you more. Everything he has to offer. “Hajime, please. I need you” you begged. “Don’t hold yourself back, because I am not going to.”

Oh, how sweet you looked being under him with your glossy eyes, begging him for more. He would wreck you if it wasn’t for this cramped place. Pulling his shirt off of his toned body, he let you enjoyed seeing his defined abs and chest. “I guess I need to teach my princess one or two things about love, hm?”

You nodded your head, your voice caught up in your throat, unable to speak proper sentences. “Don’t worry, I’ll take a really good care of you. Because I love you” he whispered in your ears.

You tugged on the waistband of his briefs, the tent forming in his boxer couldn’t hide the size of his cock. You gulped, he is unlike the other guys you have dated. He is sweet and loving, sometimes aggressive. Is he aggressive while being intimate too? You wondered.

From the way he parted your legs apart, you knew he’s real good at this. Iwaizumi dragged his two digits on your slick folds, “You’re already wet, baby” he laughed. He looked at you and gave you an assuring smile before he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue laid flatly on your dripping pussy.

His licks made your back arched lewdly to his touch. Iwaizumi never thought the day he'd be making love with his own best friend has finally come. He's in love with you ever since you guys were in first year of high school. The years of mutual pining only made him crave your love even more.

“You’re doing so good for me” he said, smirking at you in a glance. Your fingers intertwined in his spiky black hair while he praised you endlessly. “You’re eager for me, aren’t you baby?” his raspy voice vibrated against your wet cunt.

“Please, Hajime” you whimpered. “I-i want you to fuck me, please.”

“Since you are doing so good for me, I guess I have to give my princess my cock, hm?” With a harsh thrust, a loud gasp filled the car. He gasped when your tight walls swallowed his cock. Using his thumb, he played with your clit as he rocked his hips slowly to build his pace.

You have never heard yourself let out a sinful moan like you did just now. You immediately threw your hand over your mouth to cover your moans. Your eyes rolled back when he pressed his thumb on your clit.

“No, baby let me hear you” Iwaizumi yanked your hand away. “I want to hear you screaming my name, because I am the only one who can make you feel good from now on, hm?” he grunted as he slammed his hips into you.

Your tears formed in your eyes, wrapping around his neck while kissing him deeply. He toyed with your clit while kissing you passionately, hips rocking slowly into you. “Ah- Hajime” you moaned in his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he grunted softly. "You’re doing so fucking good for me, princess. Taking my cock so well like this hm? Can you cum for me, baby?”

You nodded eagerly, “Pl-please. Make me cum, Hajime- ah!” your legs wrapped tightly around his waist when you felt your orgasm building up in your stomach. Iwaizumi bit his lips, continuing to grind against your g-spot as he eyed your fucked out face with your eyes rolled back and a single tear dropped down as you begged him to go harder.

“Fuck, you feel so- ah- good, Hajime” you cried out. “Please please please, I am so near!”

With the angle he's in right now, he managed to make you moan as if no one was there to hear. Iwaizumi was big, the tip of his cock bumping your cervix in every thrust, making your legs shaking badly and your lips quivering with pleasure and cries. It felt so fucking good, no one has ever fucked you this good. All the boys you dated were useless, never once making you cum.

Your cunt clenched tightly around his cock, telling him that you’re near. “Baby, come on cum for me” he dragged two of his fingers on your clit, flicking on it as he waited for your orgasm to break.

“Y-yes there! H-hajime, it feels so good!” you moaned, mixed with cries of pleasure. Your nails digging into his back muscle, leaving scratches all over his back.

“Here? Like this, baby?” he hummed through his teeth, flicking your clit over and over again until it made your whole body trembled. “Do you like that, hm?”

You nodded eagerly, words have flown out of your mind. Nothing can ever compare to his cock and the size of his fingers that could easily make you cum. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and cries. You came around his cock, your cum dripping on his length.

“I need you to cum one more time, okay baby? You’re doing so good for me” iwaizumi caressed your hair gently. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. You nodded, following his orders. He changed the angle of his thrust, pistoning his cock faster than he did before. His calloused hands playing with your hardened buds before taking one of them in his mouth and started sucking on it.

“Come on, baby” he grunted, biting his lips from cumming before you.

“I- I'm gonna- fuck!” you sobbed, it felt different than your first orgasm. Your legs trembled, “H-hajime please.”

“That's it, baby. Fuck, I'm cumming” he gritted through his teeth. “We can’t make a mess in here” he grunted softly. He looked at his cock being swallowed by your gummy walls. The mess that you made around his cock excited him.

“Fuck, just cum inside me, oh- shit” you sobbed, gripping onto his biceps as you came down from your high.

"Are you sure? Oh- fuuuck” you nodded, panting for air as he spilled his seed inside you with a deep grunt.

He laid on top of you for a moment, trying to catch his breath after spurting his thick cum inside of you. Iwaizumi kissed you on your forehead, “Let's stay like this for a moment. Can't afford messing up my friend’s seat, can’t we?” he laughed.

You chuckled, nodding your head. “Right. I have a tissue, Hajime. Don't you worry. But it’s in my luggage in the trunk.”

Iwaizumi giggled, sealing his lips with you sweetly while he tucked your hair behind your ear. “You did so good for me” he whispered in between the kisses. You giggled, “Yeah, as if we didn’t have sex in your friend’s backseat.”

He laughed, “He would have understand, right? Come on, let’s send you to your hotel it’s getting late.”

"Fuck, Y/N. I love you so much" he kissed you lovingly. You looked into his eyes trying to catch your breath. "I love you too, Hajime. Always have been."

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #iwaizumi smut #tw: unprotected #tw: praise kink #tw: car sex

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ficsforeren · 2 years

Note

Kanayama, destroyer of hearts far and wide and obliterator of Eren’s in all known universes… *clears throat* if I could just offer one suggestion, for your secrets between us series, why kill Eren when you could give us more pain by killing the reader and having Eren lament over how it should have been him. He has to live each day knowing that he was just a second late, that he wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t clever enough. That he just wasn’t enough to save the love of his life.

Eren’s usually calm in these situations. He’s a knight. A kingsguard. Be aware of your surroundings. Always have an escape route in mind. Never let your guard down. Stay calm.

Remain calm and level headed.

Levi always made sure to repeat that one. Because moment you lose your calm, you’re already dead.

As a knight, he’s sworn to protect the kingdom until his last breath. But he’s also dedicated his heart, his life, and his entire being to you.

No amount of training would have ever prepared him for this moment.

He can stay calm when Armin reminds him of his place as just your kingsguard. He is still levelheaded, not even breaking a sweat when the carriage is ambushed, and he’s outnumbered 25 to one.

But the moment an enemy soldier tears you from his grasp, driving a dagger into your heart.

He loses it.

Because why kill Eren when you’re the only reason why he’s alive.

You see, a princess has a duty to fulfill towards her kingdom. The moment Y/N was born, her life was dedicated to serving that of her people. But for Eren, his heart was always dedicated to you.

——

You know, I’m just a huge sucker for happy endings. So let’s just focus on how amazing Eren is as a dad.

Not only is rockstar Eren an amazing husband, but he just spoils his kids rotten. Irene and Jace always know how much their dad loves them.

He has a photo of them in his wallet, another taped onto his bunk so it’s one of the last things he sees before he falls asleep, and of course it’s his Lock Screen. He was never religious to begin with. But every day when he’s reminded that he has a family to come home to, he thanks God for a blessing that transcends all lifetimes. Poor Reiner still can’t convince eren to go to church with him though

Hope you’re doing well Kana. I hope your baby is doing well too. Have you had to deal with the terrible twos yet?

Recently there was a huge heatwave where I live and now it’s fucking cold today. My poor baby cousin who’s only 5 months old broke out in hives all over her body. Ok. I think I’ll just end my ramble here.

Sending you all my love and a bunch of virtual hugs!!

"Kanayama, destroyer of hearts far and wide and obliterator of Eren’s in all known universes" LMAOOOOOO PLEASE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH THIS IS GOING TO BE MY TITLES FROM NOW ON HAHAHA I FEEL LIKE I'M IN GAME OF THRONES

Well, honey, your idea is brilliant (hell, I want you to write the sequel for TSBU lmaooo), thank you so much for sharing it with us but unfortunately, I have something else planned for reader 😏😏😏

and your HCs for dilf rockstar eren? CANON! I LOVE EVERYTHING YOU SAID! yes eren definitely has a wall inside his tour bus covered in photos of his little family. he's such a doting parent, like he will literally brag about his kids and wife to every single person he met. eren literally can't shut up about his kids. whenever he's on the stage and they have to take a minute long break between songs, he'd be like "guys, you know what my daughter did the other day? she told me she loved me and she said she wants to marry me when she's older. can you believe that?" and the crowd would cheer and jean is going to groan into the microphone "bro you've told us the same story for like twelve times today! shut the fuck up! btw, irene wants to marry me, she told me herself."

my baby and i are doing well, thank you for asking! i hope you're doing well too wherever you are, darling. take care of yourself and make sure to stay warm and hydrated. i love you so much baby MWAH MWAH MWAH

#your HCs are top notch i love them #thank you for sharing your thoughts with me baby #the last song canon #in another life canon #the secrets between us canon #kana answers stuff

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curly-bangtan · 5 years

Text

Blizzard (M)

Pairing: roommate!Jungkook x reader

Summary: When a blizzard hits your town, you and your shy awkward roommate are forced to spend time together, not being able to leave the house due to the strong snowstorm. To make matters worse, the power gets cut in the middle of his shower. Which also means no heating.

Genre: roommate au, domestic au, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers

Warnings: bit of a slow burner, vanilla!Jungkook, virgin!reader, dry humping, penetrative sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), losing virginity, shy soft boy Koo with a crush and a noona kink, your heart could possibly burst from how cute he is

Word Count: 15.5k oops

A/N: (This fic is written in parallel to Heatwave, with an opposing concept in mind. You don’t have to read Heatwave to read this, but it would be interesting and funny to see the differences in the two scenarios that both lead to roommates hooking up.) Also, happy birthday, bunny boy! Sorry this was a day late, I was honestly swarmed. I love you, koo. Writing this very much gave me a bias crisis but it was all worth it. Enjoy! :”)

PS. Think April 2019 Jungkook

‘A severe snowstorm is set to hit us this weekend with temperatures dropping down to -16˚C. It is therefore ill-advised for anyone to leave their houses during this period until the blizzard subsides as the fifth snow-induced traffic accident has been reported this week in our town…’

You have always marvelled at how the weather lady announces such things with such a passionate captivating tone.

‘The calculated probability of a city-wide power cut is currently at 72%, so please be well-equipped to stay indoors for the next two days.’

Oh shit. A power cut?

This is not good at all. Not like you have any plans for this weekend anyway, and you wouldn’t necessarily mind being stuck inside since you are good at entertaining yourself. But to possibly have no warm water, no internet in the duration of these few days?

You are currently snugly rolled up in the warmth of your blanket burrito, a mug of chamomile tea fitted in your hands, the steam of which evaporates under your chin into a slick coat. Friday evenings have never been eventful for you as long as Jimin doesn’t drag you out to some bar with him. As introverted as one can get, you much prefer staying in and watching TV or endlessly browsing the web.

The distinct rattling of keys spins your attention to the front door. Hearing the plunge of the metal into the keyhole is strangely satisfying to your ears. In steps a pink-nosed, frost-dusted Jungkook, all wrapped up in winter apparel thick enough to make him waddle clumsily.

A gust of cold flares inside from the harsh outdoors, stray flakes of snow flying in after him and landing on the rich oak tiles of the foyer. From the couch, you see his silhouette breathe out a visible grey huff. The door behind him falls shut, once again entrapping the warm temperature into the confines of these walls.

You watch your roommate, humming to himself with his black earpods hooked in his ears, as he unties the scarf around his neck. He probably hasn’t noticed your presence yet; he’s always been a little clueless afterall.

Then he looks up and meets your lingering gaze.

You both jump a little, his humming ceases instantly, eyes scrambling, darting away to your surroundings: the quiet television, the arching lamp, the white powdered window panes. Anywhere but at each other.

Clearing your throat, you greet him softly . ‘Hi.’ Your thumb rubs at the lip-shaped tea stain on the rim of your mug.

‘Um, hi. Good evening, noona.’ He dips his head at you, hood drooping lower over his head. You are two years his senior, and despite your supposed familiarity, he insists on formalities.

The weather lady has now been replaced with the anchorman, who is droning on about the car accident this morning. Awkwardness hangs in the air between you, as it always does every time you speak. It’s now your turn to say something, you’re painfully aware. But what do you say?

‘Snow storm.’ It is a statement more than anything. As if he hasn’t noticed… Nice one. You immediately want to hide your face in the mint furry throw you’re wrapped in.

‘Yeah. Snow storm.’ The rubbery sound of the careless removal of his shoes against the floor is louder than his response. ‘Jimin didn’t make it.’

Your blood freezes. ‘Wait what?! Oh my god! What happened to him?’ It takes the blanket sliding off you for you to realise that you’ve stood up abruptly. Your body is immediately flushed with a breeze of cold, devoid of insulation.

The car accident… It can’t be…

Jungkook’s attention flickers to the glaring screen as he paces towards you and realises how he must’ve sounded. ‘Woah, sorry, I worded it badly. I mean, Jimin’s stuck at Taehyung’s because the snow is too thick for him to drive back. And the service on his phone is whack, so he can’t reach you. Taehyung told me. Sorry, I didn’t mean he didn’t make it.’ Nervous chuckle. Scratching the back of his head.

Never has he said this many words to you in one go, this must be a record. That, as well as your own silly misunderstanding of his words, makes you release a humoured breath. ‘Oh right… Haha… I’m stupid.’

‘No. my bad.’

Wow. If you two keep this up, this might just be your longest running conversation in the history of living together.

Because he’s looking at the floor rather than you, you feel the liberation to look directly at his face. His round nose is red from the freezing temperature, his teeth gnawing at his chapped lips. You follow his gaze travel across the dark wooden panels, reaching a halt at your feet.

‘You’ve got a hole in your sock, noona.’ He states.

Indeed you do. Under his wide-eyed glare, you can’t help but curl your toes inwards as if it would hide your pinkie jutting out of the fabric. The way he addresses you, how his lips form a pouted ring when he pronounces the “oo”, makes you particularly self conscious. ‘Oh… Yeah, I know, it’s fine. It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’ These socks have sheltered your feet for three winters only to betray you now, during a bloody blizzard. The icy floor licks at your exposed skin tauntingly.

Silence draws taut between you. Like you’re tied to opposite ends of a string and are both trying desperately to escape, to walk away from each other.

It’s his move now… Why isn’t he saying something? But at the same time, what can he possibly respond to ‘It’s my only pair of fuzzy socks.’?

‘Right… See you.’ Jungkook nods politely and heads for his room. And you know you probably won’t see him reemerge until tomorrow; it’s practically his batcave in there.

A shudder courses through your body. Though it’s not from the cold but rather the embarrassment of that encounter. Quickly switching off the TV, you hide back in the comforts of your blanket like a Halloween ghost and scurry into your own room to avoid seeing him again.

Jeon Jungkook.

Even the thought of his name makes you crease inward involuntarily like it’s some bad memory. Despite having lived under the same roof for more or less six months, neither of you have warmed to the other in the slightest. It’s not that you have anything against him; you’re sure he must be a lovely boy, but…

Well, when you put two shy individuals next to each other, you can’t really expect them to bond over their bashfulness. No, they both tend to retract into their shells.

How you came about living together is three simple syllables: Park Jimin. If it wasn’t for this one common thread you share, your worlds would never have collided.

Ever the caring friend, it goes without saying that Jimin would rent out his vacant room in his three-bedroom house to you without even a second of hesitation after Hoseok ditches the boys to move in with his girlfriend. You’ve met all his friends before. Jimin is a social butterfly afterall, how could he resist forcing all his best mates into a confined space and make them talk to each other, or more commonly known as a party?

Namjoon and you get along just fine, seeing as you both are whores for literature. Seokjin? As long as you compliment his cooking and force a giggle at his jokes, he’ll accept your friendship. Surprisingly, Yoongi took a liking to you; you guess is due to your mild mellow nature which must clear his headaches caused by this chaotic bunch. Unsurprisingly, Hoseok took a liking to you, well, because he’s Hoseok and incapable of negativity. Much to Jimin’s jealousy, you have a soft spot for Taehyung, his mysterious charm and boyish charisma; your friendship was almost instant.

But then Jungkook…

Your introduction was a blur of awkward hellos and unmet eyes. Every time you spoke to each other, it’s a nervous stutter from him or unwarranted silence from you. Worse, if the two of you happened to bump into each other in public, neither of you knew whether or not to say hi and commence a conversation like normal acquainted people, so it always ended up being an uncomfortably long pause before nodding out of courtesy then parting ways. It’s not like you belong to the same friendship group and see each other every week or anything.

Jungkook’s playful childisness shines brightly when surrounded by the boys, witch-cackle laugh and all. However, for some reason unbeknownst to anyone, this goofy side to him is immediately switched off in your presence, as if you’re the rain that extinguishes the flame of his candle. His body stiffens, eyes widen, voice stammers. Which only leads you to mirror his behaviour.

‘He’s just really uncomfortable around girls.’ Jimin has tried to offer the only plausible explanation. ‘Poor kid went to an all boys’ school his whole life, has only ever had one girlfriend who dumped him on their one year anniversary. Your femaleness scares him.’

That would be kind of cute, you guess, if you weren’t also a socially-uncomfortable hermit who requires soft gentle prodding in order to befriend. Because then you become two logs sitting beside each other, neither willing to inch towards the other.

Forgive Jimin’s mistake of thinking that sharing a roof would change this. Because how wrong was he… If anything, it only led to increased timidity around each other.

When you first moved in, Jungkook was eager to help you carry and unpack everything, seeing as he is the most physically apt person in the house. So you thought that it was his first step towards you, and that your dynamic was finally making progress into becoming one that’s more comfortable. He even lingered around your room the first few days with Jimin to help you open all your cardboard boxes.

However, he has since struggled to utter more than five words to you. Which has continued forth until this day. In the morning rush to class, you never encounter him due to your proneness to punctuality and his to tardiness. If you ever do, it’s only ever just a quick good morning, noona without looking up from his cereal. You both enjoy the safety of your own rooms, hence rarely peak your head out unless it’s for food. Jimin is always the one to drag you out by the foot, even if its just to his room or the sofa to watch a film with him. You say drag, but really you just enjoy seeing Jimin all pouty and whiny and sucking up to you in order to earn precious quality time with you; you actually enjoy being around Jimin. It’s worse for Jungkook though because he has his own ensuite bathroom, orders Deliveroo instead of coming out to eat with you two, and only ever joins social gatherings that you’re also involved in if a high enough bribe is offered.

Hence the time you and Jungkook are exposed to each other gradually diminished over time despite being roommates. At first you only suspected, but now you know for a fact, that he is purposely avoiding you like the plague.

It baffles you, if Jimin’s theory is true, how he could possibly be scared of you, regardless of his shyness towards the female specimen. Look at you, you’re this soft-mannered, quiet-spoken creature with a meek presence. You have more reason to be intimidated by his melon-sized biceps and aggressive shouts that echo from his room when he’s gaming at 2am.

So due to this mutually reciprocated mousiness, this awkward friendship-but-not-quite thing, has never been overcome in these months.

This is not a result of lack of trying, at least from your end. You do try to talk to him, exerting enough friendliness to burst your balloon of introversion. And you suppose he does make as much effort as he can as well. He once left you a note telling you to help yourself to the leftover pizza in the fridge. On your birthday, he gave you a card in which he drew cute little cartoon illustrations of you three housemates and wrote a short message.

Happy birthday, Y/N noona!

You are such a kind person, I hope we can speak more.

Jungkook :)

You thought the exclamation mark and smiley face were above and beyond for his standards. It made you smile for the rest of the day.

It’s 6:23pm and your growling stomach is exacerbated by the cold that has made itself at home in your bones. You’ve always been an early dinner person while Jimin and Jungkook are the opposite.

You’ve managed to get a hold of Jimin through Taehyung; your FaceTime call with him lasted a total of twelve minutes before the connection got too poor that it hung up on its own. Berating Jimin for leaving you alone with Jungkook, especially in this snow storm where everyone is basically on house arrest, all he did was laugh at your feign annoyance. You know it isn’t Jimin’s fault but you still like to blame him for all the awkward predicaments that are bound to happen.

After this chapter of the book you’re reading, you’ll go out to the kitchen and make some dinner, you decide.

Wait a second... Do you even have enough food in the pantry to last a whole weekend? Particularly since Jungkook can easily demolish three bowls of rice and a whole pound of meat, and still have room for dessert?

Looking out the window, you realise it’s snowing way too hard for you to feel confident to pop to the nearest grocery store without slipping and dying.

Shit! What are you going to eat these few days? Especially since the electricity can cut any minute?

Just then, you hear the echo of the front door shutting. Oh no… Jungkook did not just go out in this weather. He probably noticed the lack of food as well and decided to go for a shop. You know what he’s like, he’s a boy who’s really certain of his capabilities, over certain in fact. He probably does not see the hazard of leaving the house in such heavy snow, especially in the evening. Because nothing stands in the way between Jungkook and Food.

Do you go after him? Hell, if you do, you would probably get lost somewhere and slowly freeze to your inevitable death. You can barely navigate in perfect daylight.

Scrambling for your phone, you begin searching for his number. You’ve embarrassingly only called him once, and that was when you and Jimin got locked out of the house after a pub night.

No one is picking up.

In fact, when you check your screen, you don’t even have signal. The blizzard must be getting so bad that it’s refracting the radio waves. Which means it’s even worse for Jungkook to be out right now.

He’s such an idiot. Why did he think it’s okay to just take a walk to the supermarket right now in the middle of a snow storm? You’re such an idiot. Why were you too lazy to stock up on food during the day?

You pace around your room, phone clutched in your hand in case you miraculously get signal somehow. How on earth would you explain to Jimin that your roommate, his friend, whom he left in your care since you’re his senior, went out in a blizzard to buy food that you were supposed to have gotten this morning, and ended up dead from hypothermia?

Are you overreacting? Surely you’re overreacting. Everything is going to be fine! Deep breaths.

He’s going to come back any minute now and see you losing your mind over nothing. Right? Right.

Jungkook isn’t going to die. You’re being paranoid. Ridiculous. Overly anxious as usual.

But you can’t help yourself from pressing your face against your window to try to peek outside for a sign of him. The glass is ice cold against your skin, and it sends a blood-chilling shock through your veins. You can barely make out any shapes in the sea of greys and whites.

If you can’t even see out the window, how is he walking outside right now?

Screw it, you’re going to find him.

You’re a tornado getting dressed, whipping on your massive faux-fur lined puffer coat over two layers of fleece. A pair of gloves, double layer of socks, snow boots. Useless phone and hand warmers shoved in your pockets, you storm out of the house.

The cold that greets you burns up your nostrils and painfully invade your lungs. Snow is flying directly at your face, and you’re barely sheltered by your hood as you feel the icy flakes stab at your skin and melt away. Step by wary step, you steadily walk off your porch, careful not to slip. Your heart leaps out of your chest when your feet sink down at least 10 inches of snow, your squeal is muffled by the scarf you’re using as a ski mask.

It’s now been at least 10 minutes since he’s left. Jungkook is a fast walker, but in the snow, perhaps you could catch up with him.

The flickering lamp posts light up the night, but they may as well not be working because all you can see is white. Barely able to keep your eyes open, and batting away the heavy wind that’s threatening to blow you over, you trek in the direction of the local supermarket.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you realise that you don’t recognise the way anymore. Everything is a blur of snow. The cars, houses, street signs. All snow. Google maps is failing you; you’ve given up removing your gloves each time, your fingers instantly freezing at the exposure, to zoom in or rotate the navigation which keeps hopping from location to location.

You’re utterly and undeniably - lost.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you just plop down on your ass in defeat.

Where the hell are you? Where the hell is Jungkook?

Fear and frustration bubbles in your chest. It must have been half an hour now since you left the house. Surely he should be back, and surely he would’ve intercepted you on the way. That could either mean one of two possibilities: he got lost, slash, injured, slash, died on his way, or you have somehow strayed from the route to the store and he’s now frantically searching for you.

The lump in your throat festers into a ball of panic and despair. Looking around you, there’s absolutely no one. Just eerily-still buildings and snow-hidden cars. The only sound is the howl of the winter gust and your own uneven breathing.

You’re scared, and cold, and alone.

Why the hell did you think you could find him in this snow storm? You watch your warm visible exhale disperse in the icy air, the stinging of desperate tears piercing the back of your eyes. What are you supposed to do now?

And then it hits you. Perhaps you could trace your steps back since your feet have imprinted a trail in the snow. Looking behind you, you see that the downpour of snow has already began filling the footprints nearest to you. You’re praying that they haven’t already entirely covered your earlier steps closer to the house.

Gathering yourself together, you exert a lot of effort to stand up from the ground. Your butt is now wet, and a damp chill is seeping into your underwear. Determined, you follow your footsteps, which are growing fainter, back home.

You’re hoping you recognise the way now, that you’re not just convincing yourself that the street looks familiar.

Then an awful realisation hits you.

Both your hands are stuffed into your pockets, holding those hand-warming packets and your phone. But not your keys. You forgot your keys.

‘Fuck!’ Cursing is rare for you, but anyone would probably deem this situation as a very reasonable one to swear at.

Hot gushes of tears begin flooding down your face, painting streaks of cold that freeze over in a matter of seconds. How could you be this dumb? The snow is getting heavier right now. Checking the time on your phone, it’s 7 o’clock. The streetlights are dimming due to the weather, and the pitch dark night is starting to settle in around you.

You sink to a crouch.

This is it then, you guess. You’ve met your inexorable demise, rooted from your own stupidity. And Jungkook.

You can’t believe you’re going to die trying to find Jungkook in a goddamn snow storm.

The quiet sobs and sniffles that escape you are muted by the hood around your ears. A shiver overtakes your body as your muscles tremble as a last attempt to keep you alive. Your whole face is numb, teeth clattering, eyes clamped shut to stop the tears from freezing on your cheeks.

‘Noona?’

The voice is muffled but you recognise it instantly. Your eyes fly open to see a pair of shoes halted in front of you. You look up.

And there Jungkook is, eyes wide in shock, quivering lips parted in concern, carrying four plastic bags full of food and supplies. The streetlight situated directly behind him shines a halo around his head, painting a heavenly image of him. You’ve never been more glad to see anyone in your life.

Unable to contain yourself, you fling your ice-stiffened arms around his waist and bury your face in his coat-clad torso. Your knees give in and hit the ground. New tears spring from your eyes, but this time it’s tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of gratitude. A surge of his warmth washes over you, and all of a sudden, the cold cannot touch you.

‘W-What happened? Are you- Are you okay?’ Jungkook is rooted to the ground, he wants to wrap an arm around your small head or help you up but his hands are full with the groceries.

Gripping his sleeves, you tug yourself up to face him. You probably look like a mess, red eyes, nose and cheeks. But you don’t care. Jungkook is alive, you’re alive, and you’ve found each other. ‘Yeah, I’m fine, Jungkook. Everything is fine.’

‘You’re crying, noona.’ His ears are neatly tucked under his black knitted beanie.

‘Not anymore, I’m good now.’ Ferociously wiping the liquids profusely leaking out of your orifices, you give him the biggest grin your frozen cheek muscles would allow. ‘Let’s go home. Do you need help with the bags?’

‘No, don’t worry about them.’

Standing an inch apart, you walk side by side following his lead, assuming he knows the way. The material of your coats scrape at each other when either of you leans a bit too far towards the other.

‘What are you doing out here though?’ He asks quietly.

What are you doing out here? How do you give him an explanation that does not depict you as an idiot? Because once again, you’ve been stupid and dramatic and stressed over absolutely nothing. It’s twice in the same day now that you thought one of your roommates have died. When both of them turned out to be alive and well.

‘Um… Well, I thought it was dangerous for you to go outside alone in this weather, especially since it’s getting dark... I tried calling you but had no signal so, uh, I decided to... uh, come out to find you…’ Embarrassment begins to creep it’s way to your senses, it claws digging into your skin.

You peak at him in your peripheral vision to see him stiffen, eyes eerily focused on the snowy path in front. What is he thinking? Is he going to laugh at you? Think you’re dumb? Find you weird and obsessive?

‘Oh… Um.’ Clearing his throat, he glances at you and you quickly look away. Flustered. ‘You didn’t have to, I’m fine. I know this neighbourhood like the back of my hand, noona.’

‘Yeah, but you took so long. I got worried…’ You whisper the last bit.

An awkward pause is birthed. Your fists tighten around the hand warmers in your pockets.

‘I- I’m sorry for worrying you, noona.’ You hear his own fists tighten around the handle of bags as well, the plastic crinkling. ‘The supermarket around the corner was shut so I had to find another one that wasn’t. I made it just in time, though, right before this one closed as well. Then I also had to find a store that sells those so-’ He stops abruptly when he realises that he’s rambling.

‘Sells what?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Jungkook mumbles.

Another silence. The night has fallen, looking around, if it isn’t for the scarce light casted by the lamp posts, everything would be pitch dark. You’re so glad you’re not alone. Worse come to worse, you would’ve had to knock on these random houses and beg them to take you in for the night.

‘Wait,’ he says, ‘That doesn’t explain why you were crying.’

Well, crap. What are you supposed to say?

‘Uhh… Well, I got lost and my phone wasn’t working, so… I just kinda panicked.’ If your face wasn’t red from the cold and embarrassment from before, it definitely is now. You feel the blood pumping to your head, enough to make you sway a little.

‘Oh shit. I’m sorry, that was all my fault. I- I should’ve told you I was popping out in the first place. Ugh, noona, I’m sorry.’ You’ve never seen him display much emotion towards you, but currently, seeing him so alive with exasperation… It’s kind of endearing.

Screw earlier, this is the longest conversation the two of you have had, ever.

‘No, Jungkook, stop apologising. It wasn’t your fault at all!’

To be fair, you couldn’t have wandered that far if Jungkook found you on his way back from whatever shop he went to; you must’ve been close at least.

And so you two arrive safely to your house. Carefully wobbling up the porch slippery with slush, you stop in front of the door.

He looks at you expectantly. ‘Keys, noona?’ Of course, his hands are full.

Here you are, thinking you could’ve gotten away with not telling him you had moronically left your keys at home. ‘Um, I forgot to bring them with me.’ You utter, then add. ‘I was in a hurry.’

For a second, Jungkook looks like he’s about to tell you off for endangering yourself with such stupidity. But he just lets out a half-laugh half-sigh and bites down on his lip. ‘Mine are in my left, no, right back jean pocket.’

Right. He is asking you to get his keys from his back pocket.

His back pocket.

You freeze.

You’ve never so much as touched Jungkook, if you don’t count brushing shoulders. Hugging him back there was purely out of hysteria, which you retracted from the second you registered your action. Now, you’re going to grope his ass. This day just keeps getting you more familiar with him, doesn’t it?

Gulping, you suck up your cowardice and slide your hand into his back pocket, intentionally not looking at him while doing so. The firmness of his buttcheek fits snugly in your palm while your index finger hooks around his keyring. And what the hell, you strangely get the urge to squeeze it.

You yank your hand out of there before it can betray you and act on that impulse. Glimpsing up, you see that his cheeks are also crimson as he stares up at the ceiling a little too attentively.

After changing into some warm dry clothes and setting your snow-dampened ones on the radiator, you go out to the kitchen to see Jungkook cooking some ramen, which doesn’t come as a surprise as he practically lives off them. He’s dressed in sweatpants and a black hoodie; after cupping his ass through his back pocket, you can’t help but notice how round his rear is, especially in those bottoms.

God, what is wrong with you? You cannot seriously be checking Jungkook’s ass out.

This time his hood his down, and you appreciate how fluffy his hair is starting to grow. You can’t help but wonder what it sme-

Woah.

Why are you thinking so much about Jungkook?

Truth be told, that scare he gave you just now opened your eye as to how much you actually care about him. Despite never really saying much to each other, you guess you’ve grown a sort of fondness for him that you didn’t realise you have. It’s only natural; you have known each other for close to a year now, and half of which was spent under the same roof. Of course you would worry for his well being, you tell yourself.

The kitchen fan must be blocking his hearing because he doesn’t sense your approach, he’s singing softly to himself. He’s got a lovely voice, both your roommates do. But whereas Jimin sings loudly and proudly, Jungkook only does so in the shower or when he doesn’t think anybody is listening.

When he notices you finally, you’re peering over his shoulder. He jumps. You jump. The chopsticks he’s using to stir the noodles fly out of his hands, clattering on the counter.

‘Oh jeez, you scared me.’ He picks up the chopsticks.

‘Sorry.’ You squeak and take a step back when you realise your proximity.

‘Haha…’ He chuckles nervously, embarrassed. ‘Noona, you like jajangmyeon, right?’

Do you like jajangmyeon? You live and breathe jajangmyeon. You can’t go a week without jajangmyeon. You’ve had it for breakfast, lunch and dinner before all in one day. Those noodles in that sauce… Mmm…

‘Yeah, they’re my favourite.’ Is all you say though, you figure he probably doesn’t care for a whole speech about your love for them. Surely he knows at this point, there isn’t a single day in this house where the ramen cupboard is devoid of jajangmyeon.

‘Great, I’m making you some.’

Oh. Jungkook is cooking for you. A warmth creeps into your cheeks, and you’re not sure why.

‘You don’t have to, Jungkook. Just cook for yourself, I’ll make myself dinner after you.’ But then your stomach chooses now to bellow aloud like a bullfrog traitorously. You look at him, abashed.

A smile is playing at his lips, though he’s trying not to show it.

‘Go sit down, noona. It’ll be ready in a second.’ His eyes are fixed on the bubbling water, chopsticks hauling up the softening noodles to check their texture. Though you’ve never tasted his cooking, you don’t doubt ramen mastery, so you nod compliantly.

The bags of shopping are half unpacked on the dining table, so you decide to finish sorting them out. He’s bought gimbap, bread, cheese, some salad, mostly food that doesn’t require cooking; you can tell he has thought ahead for the potential blackout.

Then something else in the bag catches your eye.

‘Dinner’s ready.’ Jungkook carries two bowls of brown noodles, garnished with sausage and cucumber, just the way you like it.

He sets the bowls opposite each other on the end of the table that’s not packed with groceries. This feels extremely weird and domestic. Although you live together, you don’t remember the last time you’ve had a meal together on this table, just the two of you without Jimin. Yet now, you’re about to eat jajangmyeon that he cooked for you, right across each other. Extremely weird.

‘Thank you so much for cooking, Jungkook.’ You bow your head at him politely and take a seat opposite him.

‘You’re welcome, noona.’ He also mirrors your action. You can kind of understand why it must be so annoying to Jimin how you’re so formal to each other, it must sound so forced and awkward.

Which is what this meal is going to be. Forced and Awkward.

Jungkook waits for you to take the first bite before digging, which you have to do so without rolling your eyes back and moaning out loud in satisfaction. Jajangmyeon tastes so flipping good! Your one and only true love.

You’re too focused on slurping down the noodles that you don’t notice him smiling fondly at the rare sight of you so blatantly excited.

The meal goes by quietly, neither of you are talkers to begin with, much less while eating. Whether it’s because it’s your favourite dish, or because it’s a freezing cold winter day, or even maybe because it’s Jungkook’s own cooking, the food tastes especially scrumptious.

‘This is delicious.’ Your eyes are practically glowing at him; he shys away from the praise by sipping on his can of coke. Who drinks coke in this weather? A smile stretches your lips at the oddity of this boy’s taste.

Jungkook mumbles a thanks, avoiding your eye as usual. But the jajangmyeon has put you in a good mood, you’re feeling rather chatty actually. ‘Also, Jungkook, I saw you bought-’ You dig into one of the grocery bags and pull out what you spotted earlier.

‘Oh yeah.’ Jungkook stares at the two-pack of fluffy socks in your hand, wearing a slightly mortified expression. ‘Um… I thought... you could do with some new ones.’

Surprised, your whole body tenses. You had thought he bought them for himself after seeing you wear yours so comfortably. All thought flaps away from your mind like a flock of frightened birds, leaving an empty field. He- Why- What do you-

‘Oh.’ Clearing your throat, you murmur. ‘Wow, thank you so much.’ Unable to look at him for any longer, your eyes fall onto your noodles. Your hand holding the socks drop onto the table at the weight of his kindness. Then a realisation creeps up on you. ‘Wait… They don’t sell these socks in supermarkets…’

Glancing up, you find him fiddling with his fingers nervously. ‘Uh. I went to another shop that does.’

Knots upon knots begin to tie in your stomach. So that’s why he took so long out there, not only did he have to find another supermarket that was open, he also searched for a store that sells fuzzy socks. For you.

Why do you feel so warm everywhere?

When you fall into a silent trance of your own thinking, Jungkook gets worried. ‘Noona, do you not like them? Did I get the wrong ones?’

‘No, no, no!’ You frantically dispute, forcing yourself to look at him. ‘These are perfect! I’m just surprised… and touched. That’s all. Jungkook, you really didn’t have to.’ The fabric of the socks feel heavenly to touch, your thumb sinks into the clouds of its softness. Truly, this has taken you by surprise and you don’t know how to react.

‘It’s okay…’ Redness blooms across his cheeks like drops of watercolour.

First he cooks you your favourite meal, then he buys you fuzzy socks? Is this the same Jungkook you’ve been living with all these months?

‘No, here…’ You rip open the card of the packet and snap the plastic wire that holds the four socks together. ‘Take a pair, I only need one anyway.’

At you waving the socks in front of him, he leans back in refusal, shaking his head and muttering a string of no no no’s. You’re not at all a strong-willed person by any means, but you’re not backing down on this, not when he’s been so lovely to you all night. When he realises that you won’t take no for an answer, he sighs, scratching the back of his ears. ‘Okay, okay. You can have the mint ones.’

One pair is mint and the other is pink. You blink. He wants the pink ones?

When he realises what must be going through your head, he quickly says, ‘Mint is your favourite colour right?’

Mint is your favourite colour. Though how does he know? All your possessions are in a variety of pastels: baby blue, cotton candy pink, mint green and lilac purple. He couldn’t have possibly guessed…?

‘Yes, it is… But I seriously don’t mind if you want the mint ones, I’m not gonna make you take the pink ones.’

‘No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.’ Jungkook snatches the pink fluffy socks from you before you can argue and stuff them onto his lap.

Your heart does a little thing that you can’t describe.

The two of you finish your dinner in silence, mirroring each other with one hand gripping the socks ever so tightly and the other hand picking up the noodles with your chopsticks. Awkwardly, Jungkook take a glimpse at you. A tiny smear of sauce stains the corner of your mouth.

Does he tell you? It would make it awkward though, wouldn’t it? But then again, it would be worse for you to find out yourself when you look in the mirror and think that he didn’t tell you you have sauce on your face.

‘Sauce.’ He accidentally says before he could finish formulating what he’s going to say to you. Shit. What’s wrong with him? Why did he say it like that? In response to your confused expression, he gestures dumbly at the corner of his own mouth.

Instantly a blush flames across the apples of your cheeks. You are about to wipe it away with your sleeve when you realise a second too late that you’re wearing a white sweater.

Your hand dangles a centimetre from your face, wrist caught in Jungkook’s fingers as he notices the mistake in your action before you. His whole body is leaned over the table in order to reach you. Wide eyes locked on each other, neither of you dare to move at his sudden outburst of motion towards you.

‘Um.’ He peeps. ‘Careful, I’ll do it, noona.’

Before you can register, he lets go of your arm allowing it to fall onto your lap. When his index knuckle brushes against the end of your mouth, a wave of shock zaps down your spine. Your heart lurches down an abyss at how soft his skin feels on your sensitive lips. Then his touch is gone, leaving a warmth tingling in his wake.

As he looks around for something to wipe his finger on, pupils round like a puppy, your eyes refuse to leave him. Thank you sits at the tip of your tongue but your throat is too clogged to utter a sound. The clockworks are trying to turn in your brain but all you can focus on is Jungkook.

How is he this nice, kind, gentle boy? And how have you completely missed this about him? In fact, why have you been so demure with him when he’s… an angel?

Watching his tongue poke at the inside of his cheek, a much scarier thought dawns on you.

Do you have a crush on Jungkook?

White screen glaring at you, the words of your unfinished essay frowns at your lack of attention in disapproval. You can’t write about Jane Austen’s exploration of feminism when Jungkook has overtaken your capacity to concentrate on anything other than him.

The radiator by your desk acts as your foot rest, blazing the pleasant heat up your legs. Ever few seconds, your eyes would wander to those mint green fuzzy socks you’re wearing, so brand new that its fluff caresses your toes like a flower bed. Just the thought that he went out of his way to replace your old hole-ridden pair…

Stop.

Jane Austen. Focus.

But the phantom touch of his finger sweeping across the plump of your bottom lip is etched on your skin, the picture of his doe eyes staring at your mouth refusing to leave your memory.

What has happened to you? How have you just swung from two extremes: from hardly able to speak a word to him without stuttering, to daydreaming about his kindness towards you?

The cold is making you delirious. It has to be this godforsaken cold, because why else would you all of a sudden be so flustered from the thought of Jungkook?

You take a long hard sip of your coffee, and mark it as a new leaf. From now on, no more thinking about anyone else other than Jane Austen. Pushing up your sleeves, you straighten your slouching back and face the monster of you assignment head on.

Not 5 minutes later, your desk lamp begins to flicker. You throw it a quick glance as your fingers type on your keyboard. Weird, you just changed the bulb a few weeks ago. Nevermind it.

Then all of a sudden, all the lights in your room go out. Frowning, you get up and try the switch several times to no avail. Peaking outside your room, all that greets you is a cold darkness. So you turn on the flashlight on your phone and try other light switches of the house. Nothing. Even the heat begins to seep away from the heaters as they dim to a cool. Oh no, right now?

Using your phone as a torch, you pad towards Jungkook’s room and open his door before you can remember to knock. Perhaps your anxiety has overridden your common sense and courtesy. Unfamiliar with the orientation of his room, you trail your side against the wall to guide you.

‘Jungkook? I think the power’s ou-’

Your phone shines onto a tall silhouette, illuminating a view that makes you shriek and stumble back.

There he is, standing with a white towel around his waist, beads of water splattered across his naked body and dripping rapidly out his wet slicked back hair. The swell of his biceps catch your attention first, lined with prominent veins running all the way down to his large hands placed on his hips. Which leads your gaze to the illustrious v of his hips that arch down to-

Without meaning to, your eyes travel down to this bulge. His hefty unmissable bulge. The towel protrudes out like a tiny hill, and you want to scream at it.

If you had a drink in your mouth right now, you would surely spit it out all over him and choke to your death. But you don’t, so all that comes out of you is a strangled cat noise. Looking away from that sinful area as quickly as you can, you arrive at his face - shocked, alarmed and confused. Your cheeks burning in the flames of hell, you spin away hastily to sprint out of his room in horror.

Except you run into the wall.

The impact hits your forehead and thankfully not your nose. Phone flung onto the ground with the light facing up, you fall onto you knees clutching at the eruption of pain. But nothing hurts more than your pride and image.

‘Noona!’ One hand securing the towel covering his manhood and preserving his dignity, he scrambles over to help you despite himself.

You flinch away at his hand on your shoulder because he is now right beside you. And it’s as if you’ve zoomed in too far on a picture because his nakedness is suddenly magnified 100x. You want to Ctrl Z yourself out of his room and back into your own desk. Because what. the. hell.

What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?

Transfixed on the ridges of this abdomen, you cannot focus on anything other than the way his muscles groove up and down so smoothly to form a six pack. Shadows casted by the flashlight sculpting more definition onto his marble chest. Goosebumps are raised on his blemishless skin, which you almost want to stroke away with your warmth.

‘I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.’ You chant cataleptically in a daze. It’s more for your own reassurance than his. His bare upper body needs to let you breathe.

‘Are you sure?’ His concern is apparent in his expression, eyes examining your entire face for your injury.

‘Yes, yes.’ Desperately wanting to shoo him away, you wince at the pulsing ache burgeoning in your forehead.

‘I’m sorry.’ You both say in unison, though neither of you understand why the other is apologising.

Though he seems abashed about being shirtless, his humiliation comes nowhere near your level. Why isn’t he scrambling to put a shirt on?

To be fair Jungkook does seem awfully self conscious, you’ve caught him looking down at himself for about the fifteenth time now as he helps you up to your feet.

‘I’ll let you get dressed, sorry.’ Is all you say after snatching your phone off the ground, not even bothering to check for a cracked screen, before making your timely escape. This time more successful than the last.

Clutching your throbbing head, you race to your room and catapult onto your bed. The picture of a wet, shirtless Jungkook with only a towel to shield you from his crotch is now ingrained in your mind. You think shutting your eyes will help but you still see his divine abs behind your lids.

Holy shit.

What perhaps scares you more is how attracted you are to him. Since when did you find your roommate hot? This is shy, quiet Jungkook who plays overwatch until 4am. How dare he have a Greek God’s body to confuse you like this?

You need to stop thinking about his naked body right now.

Instead you check outside your window to see that the streetlights are off as well; it must be a blackout across the whole town, if not city. Without heating, the cold air begins to harshly sting your exposed skin. Panic starts to fester in your chest. How long can you last with no electricity whatsoever? You don’t even have phone signal, or something to charge your phone with except the one portable charger that may or may not be dead right now.

Though your door is wide open, Jungkook knocks on it politely outside your room. Which is what you should’ve done with him, you mentally scold yourself. Though he is now dressed in an oversized hoodie, your image of him is forever changed after seeing him fresh out the shower, hair still dripping. You blink hard in attempt to rid that thought.

‘Hi…’ He whispers. He’s holding two burning candles against his chest, their flames lighting up the underside of his sharp jaw.

‘Hi, come in.’

You can sense his hesitancy, the unease in the air between you, when he enters your room gingerly, feet clad in those pink fuzzy socks.

‘Sorry-’ You both say at the same time again, then release a breath of laughter. Mirth twinkles in his eyes, though his shyness does not stray from him.

‘I’m sorry for barging into your room like that.’ It’s an effort not to glance down at his adorable socks. ‘That was completely my fault, so don’t apologise.’

He swallows. ‘It’s okay, noona.’

His eyes hold yours for a solid moment before dispersing. A familiar blush is starting to paint your cheeks, you feel the heat from your chest blare up to your entire face. Unable to help imagining those solid muscles underneath his clothes, you tug at the hem of your sweater.

‘So,’ Jungkook places one of the candles on your desk. ‘This is for you.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Instead of using the flashlight of your phone, use the candle or one of the torches I’ve put on the table outside to save your battery. I’ve checked the main fuse, it isn’t switching back on. Good thing is that we still have running water and plumbing, just no heating or any electricity.’ He glances at your own socks. ‘We need to use the water sparingly though or the reservoir will run out. From the shops, I’ve bought some food that we can eat without cooking like gimbap or sandwiches. There’s also a stash of hand warmers in the drawer of the TV stand if you’re cold.’

That’s a lot of words to come out of Jungkook’s mouth in one go, all spoken to you. What he’s saying is sinking in and relief washes over you, yet you can’t help but focus your attention on the way his lips move as he speaks. The dark red gleaming with lip balm, curving over each syllable so prettily.

‘That’s great, thank you.’ You finally snap out of it. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ That last sentence slips out of you before you could stop it.

Pupils widening a fraction, Jungkook’s lips part in reaction. Why did you tell him that? Maybe you should just lock yourself in your room after continuously embarrassing yourself tonight. But then he pulls into a smile that melts away the ice that’s numbing your limbs and burning your lungs. The front of his teeth slightly jutting out sweetly.

Again, a fondness tickles your chest.

‘Me too.’ The tingle spreads into a pulse that crushes your throat. Is that why they call it a crush?

You simply cannot suppress your own growing grin.

Jungkook begins to walk away, but then stops at your door and turns back. There’s a reluctance, an uncertainty to his slow movement as he faces you.

‘If… If you get too cold without the radiator… you can…’ His voice barely a husk. ‘You can come over to mine.’

Then he’s gone. The aura lit up by his candle gradually diminishes away from you as he walks down the hallway to his room.

Frozen in place, you’re not even sure if your heart is beating anymore. Those final words ring in your ear like wind chimes.

You can come over to mine.

Does he mean what you think he means? Is he offering to keep you warm during the night?

You watch the candle he’d placed on your desk, its flame mirroring the small fire kindling in your core for the boy who went out during a blizzard to buy you fuzzy socks so your feet don’t get cold.

On the other side of the wall, Jungkook is on the verge of combustion at his bold proposition to you, red burning the tips of his ears. Though the memory of the look of pure euphoria on your face when you took your first bite of jajangmyeon burns his heart hotter yet.

The cold is brutal and shows no mercy. Despite your tossing and turning and effort to warm yourself up, sleep does not grace you. Part of the blame goes to Jungkook, you have not been able to cease thinking about him and everything he has done tonight. It makes you reflect on all your past moments together, whether he has always been like this and you were only too closed off to pay heed.

Sitting up from your bed, you decide you won’t be able to fall asleep without extra warmth. You need hand warmers stuffed down your pyjamas.

So, muscles stiff from the cold, you clamber out the little warm burrow of your covers and head for the living room, forsaking any light since your vision has adapted to the dark. On your way there, you walk past Jungkook’s room. Without knowing why, your legs betray you and stop outside his door.

You can come over to mine.

The low rasp of his voice still echoes in your head, stirring your unwarranted feelings for him into a warm pot of honey.

Had he really meant it? Did he honestly invite you to his share his bed? Surely not - this is Jeon Jungkook you’re thinking of, he doesn’t even speak to you most days, can’t not cower away from your glare. And he also knows what you’re like, how it took you two whole months to even warm to all of Jimin’s friends, how you only recently stopped using honorifics with those older than you.

And surely he must be at least mildly aware of the lack of boys and romance in your life, living just down the hall from you. Jimin is the closest male friend you have, and even so, you aren’t completely comfortable with sleeping beside him.

But then… All that has transpired about Jungkook’s character tonight, how sweet and kind and thoughtful he is which completely falls outside your predictions of the boy…

You realise you want to know more, want to explore the depths and mysteries that is your strange roommate. This intangible force that has been building up in the mere hours you’ve spent together this cold winter’s night draws you to him.

So screw those hand warmers, they last way too short anyway. Who needs those fidgety packets when there’s a whole Jeon Jungkook next door?

Gathering all the courage you can muster, you knock on his door.

The wood sends tendrils of cold into your knuckles. There’s a pause at first which leaves you thinking that he’s asleep, and to be fair, this late at night he has every reason to be. You’re about to turn away and head forth down the hall when you hear sheets moving, followed by his muffled come in.

Timidly, you step into his room, mind still fresh with the memory of what had happened last time you entered here unannounced, mere hours ago. Let’s not think about that right now, shall we?

Jungkook is sat up in his bed, black hood engulfing half his head. A single scented candle lit on his bedside table beside him illuminates the whole room into a golden ochre hue, it smells of freshly washed sheets.

‘Hi…’ You peep out, stopping in front of his bed.

‘Everything ok, noona?’ His eyes are fixed on your face in wonder, but when you meet them, they dart to your socks.

‘Um, yes.’ How do you put this? How do you formulate those words? ‘I just… It’s absolutely freezing with the radiators not working. Maybe- D-’ You exhale shakily. He’s gaze slowly crawls back up to your face as he realises where you’re going with this. ‘You know how you suggested that we should… sleep tog- on the same bed… to keep each other warm…? Well...’

Jungkook blinks at you. For a heartbeat, all you want to do is curl up into a ball and roll out of here. You couldn’t even finish what you were saying because your jaw has simply refused to move, refused to let you carry on embarrass yourself.

Then, although he was already on one side of the bed, he scooches over to the left. He doesn’t look at you when he replies, ‘Of course.’

Your heart is pumping fast, almost making you choke on your constricting throat. Warily you clamber onto his bed, but stop when only your knee is on the mattress. The bed frame creaks. Jungkook is regarding you with an unreadable expression, nibbling on his bottom lip. ‘Wait, if this is weird, just tell me to go.’

‘N-No. It’s fine.’ Pulling the covers over his chest, he crosses his arms shyly. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, though you could be mistaken due to the odd lighting. ‘I was struggling to fall asleep from the cold as well.’ He adds when you don’t seem convinced.

Both of you are making this a bigger deal than it actually is, you are fully aware. It honestly pains you how awkward you two are with each other; if this were Jimin, he’d be dragging you onto his bed by the waist, letting you flounder about in his arms like a cat trying to escape before smothering you with his affection. But this is Jungkook. Quiet, shy, awkward Jungkook. Jungkook who hasn’t spoken more than ten words a day to you before the events of tonight even though you live together. Jungkook who you’re slowly learning more and more about during this blizzard.

Plus, he was the one who offered to share his bed earlier in the first place. This is fine, just fine. Act normal.

Overly conscious of how he’s watching your every movement carefully, you slowly burrow into the comfort of his bed. Immediately you’re enveloped in his residual body heat under the duvet. Now you realise that he moved over to the other side of the bed, the cold side, so you can relish in the warmth that he’s been collecting under these covers.

Why is Jungkook so… considerate?

Again, the same fuzzy feeling as before tugs at your heartstrings. Suddenly you want to reach out to him, but instead, you tug at your sleeves.

You’re both staring at the blank ceiling as if it is some fascinating art piece, with enough space between you to fit a Jimin. The candle has casted long grey shadows across the room, occasionally flickering haphazardly.

Everything that is currently whizzing through your head is driving you insane. This is actually happening. You are sharing a bed with Jungkook, the guy who you can’t even look in the eye when speaking to, your roommate who has only ever tried to avoid you. This day is a jack-in-the-box of Jungkook-themed surprises. What’s going to be next?

‘Feeling warmer, noona?’ He breaks the silence first, and you can’t help but glance over at him. His side profile is mostly masked by his hood, yet you can still see his jaw clenching. You can only imagine how uneasy he is currently feeling.

‘Yes.’ It’s barely a whisper you manage, so you clear your throat. ‘Much better Jungkook, thank you.’

Another silence. Though this is an improvement from before, you still feel a chill in your bones; the cold is a resilient pest that aches your muscles and numbs your face.

‘Should I blow out the candle then?’ You ask.

‘Oh right, yeah.’

You huff at the small flame but it refuses to go out, and you kind of don’t want it to as it provides a strong beacon of heat as its smoke licks at your face. You huff again. Still, it only wavers. You’re so cold that you don’t even have the strength to take out a candle. Peaking over at Jungkook, his eyes are locked on you patiently.

‘I’ll do it.’ He leans across the bed over you, you feel his warmth radiate into your proximity as his should hovers over your face. His scent, a clean soft musk, swims up your nose; you never noticed how pleasant he smells. The veins on his neck are protruding as he strains to reach over. When he extinguishes the candle with a single harsh blow, embarrassment rains on you.

Darkness enshrouds you two. As he returns to his position, you notice that he’s closer to you than before, now only less than a foot away. The sound of his breathing provides a steady rhythm that soothes your wild thoughts.

Though your social skills are subpar by nature, Jungkook has a way of magnifying your awkwardness. Should you say something? Good night? Thank him again?

Then you realise, he’s shivering. Of course, his hair must still be wet from his unfinished shower that was cut short by the blackout. God, he must be freezing.

‘You’re cold.’ You state, though you mean it more as a question.

‘I’m fine.’ Hums his response, yet his inhale is shaky.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you know what you’re going to do next is completely out of character and will require more guts than you actually possess. Your hand gropes at the space between you until you find his hand. It’s ice cold. Jungkook jumps at the contact and you hear him turn his head towards you. You hope his sight hasn’t adjusted to the dark yet so he can’t see how abashed you are.

‘You’re not fine.’ His fingers are stiff when you interlock yours between his. Everything is screaming inside you. What are you doing? What the heck? If Jimin were here to see this his jaw would drop all the way down to hell.

Unable to suppress the urge either, you also turn to look at him. In the dark, you can barely make out the outline of his face, the shape of his glossy eyes reflecting the moonlight seeping in through the window. Slowly, his fingers curl up around your hand. Your heart flips.

Blood roaring in your ears, you inch towards him like a frightened deer until your sides are pressed against each other. Your faces must be a hand’s width apart, but the darkness fuels you with a brazenness that allows you to not cringe away. His whole body tenses in response.

‘Better?’ Voice so soft he strains to hear you.

Jungkook nods, eyes never leaving yours. ‘Better.’ His response rumbles into your ear and percolate into your mind, and only now are you aware of how close he is.

An amalgamation of unidentifiable emotions stir inside you. You feel your own warmth trickle towards him as his does with you, and slowly his presence plucks away the cold you are plagued with.

‘Good night, Jungkook.’

‘Good night, Y/N noona.’

Though it’s only briefest of movements, you feel his thumb stroke over yours once, twice, as your eyelids fall shut.

The next morning, you wake up first with your head fitted cosily on his heavily breathing chest, his arm draped across your shoulder, shielding you from the chilly morning air.

The power still isn’t back on.

It’s now nearing 24 hours since the blackout first hit.

You’ve wasted the day wandering about the house, unsure of what to do with yourself. Though you tell yourself it’s the withdrawal symptoms from the internet, it’s mostly due to the fact that you slept next to Jungkook last night.

The earlier half of the day was spent subtly avoiding him because what the hell are you supposed to say to him? Do you just carry on your usual selves around each other or are you, like, friends now? You caught yourself watching him sleep this morning, serene breaths in and out through his nose. There’s a tiny mole under his lips that you’ve never noticed before. You had poked it with your pinky before you could stop yourself. And thankfully he’s a heavy sleeper, he didn’t even stir.

With more effort than you thought would require, you pried yourself out of his arms, a cold breeze instantly welcoming you in an embrace as you left his bed.

Those scenes keep replaying in your head: him finding you out in the blizzard, watching him cook you jajangmyeon, discovering that he when out of his way to buy you new sock, then walking in on him almost stark naked from the shower, and finally, falling asleep enveloped in his warm and scent.

You’re definitely crushing on him.

You’ve stopped denying it when you saw him meander wearily out his room at noon, bed head ruffled, eyes still droopy from sleep. Wordlessly, you had passed him the ham and cheese sandwich you prepared for yourself and you don’t even know why because you were absolutely starving.

The downpour of snow only stopped for a good 10 minutes this afternoon, a tiny window in which you poked your head out for some fresh air. Jungkook had tried to shovel away some snow to clear the porch, but quickly ran back inside when he saw your worried face plastered to the window watching him.

There isn’t much either of you can do with no electricity, no internet, no television, trapped indoors. So you occupy your day curled up on the couch, nose buried in a novel, completely immersed in that beautifully crafted fictional world.

Until Jungkook walks out in a white t-shirt and shorts.

Your eyebrow raises, peeking at him from behind the pages.

‘I’m gonna work out here, if you don’t mind. There isn’t enough space in my room.’ He scratches the back of his head.

‘Sure.’ You exhale, knowing your demise is looming over your head like a storm cloud. A lot of self control is exercised in order to not ogle at his calves.

Training your eyes at the novel in front of you with great determination, you turn the page. The first minute is easy enough, you just have to angle your book to block your view of him. But then his breathing grows heavier, panting every rep. At that, you can’t help but glimpse past the corner of your page.

Oh Lord. He’s doing push ups.

Though his biceps are mostly covered by his sleeves, the muscles of his forearms tensing at every contraction catch you eye. You marvel at the way his tendons flex out, and the way his serpentine of veins snake down his hands.

Jeez.

Then he lets out an unholy grunt, setting your whole skin on aflame. Scarlet stains your cheeks, you’re sure of it. But the sinful sounds do not stop. Sweat his now seeping through his shirt, rendering the material transparent down his back. And his ass…

You snap your focus back to your novel.

Just in time as well because he stops onto his knees, head falling back as he sits on his ankles, panting. His neck is shimmering with his perspiration, droplets trickling down like a brook.

Jungkook glances over at you to see you reading intently, jaw clenched from what he guesses is due to the excitement of the plot.

But then you stand up so abruptly that it startles him. You can’t sit here and spy on his workout any longer, you physically cannot take it. Not to mention, it makes you feel so awful, like you’re perving on the poor clueless boy who only wants to break a sweat.

The both of you just stare at each other, flustered for different reasons. His breathing slows.

‘I’m gonna-’ You don’t know where you’re going with the sentence. Gulp. ‘Uh, see you later.’

Scampering away into your room, you don’t wait for his response. Why are you panting heavier than he is when he’s the one exercising? Your book is pressed tightly against your pounding chest as you lean your back on your door. Your legs give way and you slowly slide down onto the cool floor.

There’s one thing you know for sure.

Jeon Jungkook is not good for your heart.

It’s almost midnight and Jungkook is standing outside your door. Fist clenched, inches away from rapping on the wood, but completely frozen in action.

Just do it, idiot. He scolds himself.

After an ice cold post-workout shower, this time early enough so he doesn’t have to sleep with wet hair, you both had gimbap for dinner. It was an excruciatingly silent meal which he blames himself for, though he can’t help the way his tongue gets tied every time he wishes to speak to you.

And now, bed time, he is at a dilemma of whether or not to ask to sleep with you again. It may come across as too forward coming from a guy, he doesn’t want to scare you. But he also knows that he will be missing the warmth of your body beside him if he goes to bed alone.

Jungkook sighs and lets his hanging hand fall to his side.

If you wanted to, you would have gone to his room anyway. Might as well save the awkward rejection and just take this as a no.

However, your door suddenly swings open. He’s confronted with a pyjama-wearing, baby-faced you, flinching back a step at the surprising sight of him.

‘Op- I was just....’ His sentence falls flat. He was just what?

‘I was just coming to find you.’ You mutter, eyes softening if he isn’t mistaken. A flood of relief rushes at him, so you were planning on coming to him tonight.

Wordlessly, you pad after him to his room. Everything is dark but you see his figure clearly in front of you. It gives you a false sense of confidence which leads you to trip over his charger wire you so clumsily missed.

You don’t know how he reacts so quickly to your yelp of distress, but he turns around in time to catch your outstretched arms by the elbows. ‘Watch out.’ Feet fumbling over each other, he stumbles back onto his bed as you fall onto him. The weight of your bodies sink down onto the mattress.

Hard muscle cushions your fall. Chests pressed against each other, you don’t realise your hands have instinctively circled around his shoulders for balance. Your nose is touching his fabric of his collar, his musk instantly overriding your senses. When you look up, his eyes are a crystal clear pool somehow reflecting the constellations of the night sky in this darkness. His breath caresses your forehead. Your gaze drops to his mouth, pink and parted.

You want to kiss him, you realise. So badly. Every fibre of your being is currently yearning to meet his lips, longing to know whether he tastes better than he smells.

But then your limbs are moving for you, propping yourself up and off him. Your own mouth forms and quiet ‘sorry’ as you shuffle under the sheets. It’s as if you’re watching your own actions through your eyes, controlled by your logic rather than desire. You couldn’t let yourself kiss him.

Jungkook silently squirms into his bed beside you, unwilling to look your direction as much as you’re averse to his.

So this is how it’s going to be again. Two sleeping logs next to each other.

There’s an ache of regret in your heart for being so timid. Annoyance at yourself drips down your throat, fist clenching at the sheets. You should’ve kissed him right then and there, consequences be damned. When will you get another chance? But perhaps it was fate. You have no idea how he would’ve reacted; the pessimist in you thinks he would’ve been disgusted. Yes, it was fate. It was right not to have kissed him.

Wait, no. A boldness suddenly pours down on you. Shyness and introversion has gotten you nowhere before, and it will not help your situation now.

‘Jungkook.’ Your voice comes out crisp and clear.

‘Hm, Noona?’

‘I’m still cold.’ Turning to face him, you see innocent confusion settle in his expression. The sound of your thumping pulse has reached your ears, your heart is a speeding motor flying off to find him. ‘Come closer.’

The shadow of his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. His focus does not stray from you as he slides across the bed hesitantly.

‘Closer.’

He edges further towards you. You can now just about make out the shape of the scar that flecks his left cheek.

‘Closer.’

This time, his exhale tickles your neck. Warm bodies touching, confusion and perturbation cloud his glassy orbs as he scans your face for an answer to the plethora of questions swimming in his head.

‘Thank you.’ You breathe, though it feels like no air is entering you. You can’t believe what you’re doing. This close to him, you’re entire being bathes in his presence, his aura; a familiar tingling ails your soul as your eyes flicker to his lips.

Every single muscle in Jungkook is frozen in shock, unsure of what is going on and why the sudden change in your demeanour towards him. And when you turn onto your side away from him and inch by inch back your body onto his front, his heart

stops

beating.

Nose buried in your floral-scented hair, vacillating thoughts tell him to put his arm around your waist and hold you close to him. You sense his unsureness in the way his hand rests on your side and pauses for too long before pulling you into his chest.

His frame engulf yours, the curve of your back lining perfectly with his. You feel safe, protected. His furnace touch on your waist burns through the thick fabric of your jumper and seeps into your core. The effect he has on you is nothing you’ve ever experienced before, and neither have you ever been in this position with anyone. Although it isn’t much, merely just cuddling, this feels so remarkably intimate and intense, like you’ve finally stepped through a threshold built into the emotional wall that towers between you and him.

You’re not entirely sure if you’re breathing.

Despite being the one to instigate this, you’re awfully apprehensive, not daring to even twitch incase it rattles him and sets him scrambling away. The two of you are like a pair of squirrels, slowly approaching to sniff each other, curious yet easily frightened.

His hot breath rushes down your spine like smoke. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking. Is he as nervous as you? Do you feel comfortable to him as he does to you? Or is he already falling asleep?

You should close your eyes and try to. Though who are you kidding? You’d never manage to catch a wink when you’re an accidental turn of a face away from kissing him, at least not right away anyway, not until you calm yourself down with a mental meditation exercise or something.

The urge to check if he’s indeed asleep is yanking at you, but you use all your willpower to resist, not wanting to risk rousing him when he’s as skittish as you.

But then you feel it.

Him.

It’s subtle at first, just a gentle pressure at your bottom.

Innocent and untainted as you are, you don’t even realise what it is at first, so you shift your hips unconsciously.

Then it’s stiffness grows, and grows, until it’s a baton poking at your rear.

Something in your core ignites, your chest constricts, and a wildfire of lust you’ve never felt before smoulders from your scalp to your toes before finally rooting itself in your sex. Ten hells, Jungkook’s boner is touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner and it’s touching your ass. Jungkook has a boner because of you and it’s touching your ass.

Your brain is devoid of all senses except a formidable hunger for him. Suddenly, though he’s almost surrounding you completely, the only thing you can feel is his hard member prodding you.

Is he asleep or not, you need to know.

Then a strange force possesses your lower half, and like a puppet on a string, your ass sinks back further onto him until his length is tunnelled between your cheeks.

The softest moan escapes him, almost a gasp even.

You think he’s going to say something, move away or stand up and leave. Instead he pulls himself away and slowly thrusts forward again. His clothed length slides smoothly up your crack, brushing ever so slightly over your slit. It sends a wave of arousal convulsing up your core, so powerful you almost choke.

Continuing to encourage him, your hips move in tandem with his, rubbing your ass all over his pulsing erection, occasionally letting it slide between your thighs against your clit. A pleasured mewl escapes, though you’re not sure who from. You’ve never felt anything like this, the ruin that overtakes your core at the friction. This is a divine sensation, luxury of the gods.

Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist as his pace increases, his breathing slowly shifting into wavering panting. Finally you succumb to the urge to twist around to look at him. Your heart erupts at the pure devastation contorting his face. His brows angled in pleasure, teeth clamped down on his lip to suppress those unholy noises, lids hanging heavy at the weight of his thirst for you. When his eyes lock on yours, something unleashes in him and devours you wholly.

Fire and ice. His lips feel like both fire and ice. Fire because your entire mind is burning at his smoothness, fuelled by your unkempt want for him to take over you. Ice because everything that isn’t him feels numb and insignificant, and your feelings for this man holding you is the purest flake of snow.

Your first kiss, and it’s already the best kiss you’ll ever have, you’re sure. Because the way his lips meld onto your, the desperation in the way he leans so far into you, the heat of his arousal forging it’s mark between your legs. Nothing in this world can top that.

‘Noona.’ He sighs into you. It drives you absolutely insane.

Fingers grappling in his wavy locks, you reposition yourself completely to face him. His length twitches against you as your leg swings behind him to pull him closer. He is holding your neck with a heartbreaking delicacy, thumb stroking your jaw like it’s the most fragile of chinas.

‘Jung-’ You whimper. ‘Koo…’

Tasting of mint, his tongue gently laps at yours when you open for him. You’re drowning in his essence, lungs filling with his air, though you welcome your sweet painless death like it’s a heavenly gift.

Knowing his docile nature, you move his hand underneath your top, giving him permission to roam freely on your skin. He snakes around your back and circles around your front before finally meeting your sore breasts. As he kneads them tenderly, you feel a warmth ooze out of you into a puddle of concupiscence in your pants.

Oh God.

Your own hands wander beneath his hoodie, raking up the bumps of his god-sculpted abdomen and taking hold of his muscular chest. His wet kisses are a drug, and you’re completely and utterly under its control.

‘Jungkook, I want you.’ You moan.

When his eyes fly open, you’re met with pools of desire, seething into you like jets of lust. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d experience him like this, covetous for you and withering under your touch.

‘Noona… Fuck.’ He trembles as your hand travels down his navel, daring to slide under the band of his sweatpants. ‘I want you so bad, noona.’

The whimper that leaves his mouth when you palm him through his boxers sends a flood of yearning down to your core.

Holy shit.

He feels…

Massive.

Heavy with girth, only about half of his length fits in your palm. You have to stretch your fingers in order to fully encompass him. He is fully at your disposal, groaning, grip tightening on you.

As he huffs into the edge of your jaw, his own hand comes down to find your pussy pulsing for his touch. When his touches your clothed slit, a compulsion forces your hips to buckle forwards. And when he begins to rub circles right on that tender spot, waves upon waves of ecstasy hit you.

Whining like an animal, your head falls back at the newfound pleasure he’s showing you. With you neck presented so openly to him like a platter of dessert, he plants dulcet kisses onto you, his gentleness kindling your fire for him. Despite your attempt to wind your focus back to him, your grip on his erection slackens at his vibrations on your cunt.

‘Can I?’ Jungkook whispers into your ear, softness tickling your lobe. You don’t waste a second before nodding eagerly.

Then his fingers slide underneath your panties. Sensitivity explodes at the contact between the pad of his thumb and your clit. A string of moans release from you. His fingers stroke tactfully up your slick, lubricated by your wetness for him. And when he slides his digit into you, the thread that holds your soul to sanity snaps.

‘Oh my god.’ He pushes through the sleek pressure of your walls. ‘Jungkook.’ The whimper of his name rolling off your tongue sends a rush of blood down to his aching cock.

‘Noona, is that okay?’ The genuity in his voice squeezes your heart.

‘Yes, it feels so, argh, good.’

He latches his lips onto your neck and sucks clouds of lavender to your smooth seamless sky. His finger is slowly pumping in and out. It is a foreign feeling, so strange and unfamiliar, yet all the more exciting. The rise of his knuckles hit your wall at eye-rolling angles. Your hips roll in his rhythm to help him reach newer depths. The pleasure is unforgiving, relentless.

Another feeling gnaws at your chest, a longing to please him.

‘I want to make you feel good, Jungkook.’ You mumble, shy.

He looks up at you, finger gradually ceasing its movement. The pure passion alit in his eyes drives you thrumming for him.

‘O-Okay.’

‘You… You have to teach me though.’ Redness flushes your cheeks.

‘Okay.’ He says again, and you wonder if you’ve broken him at the way he’s frozen.

Sheepishly tugging down his pants, you inch yourself down and settle between his legs, the duvet rested upon your shoulders. He bobs free from the restraint of his apparel.

Your eyes bulge at his cock that is, despite the darkness, standing tall and proud, beaming at you. How is that monster going to fit inside you?

A strong vein runs down the course of his length. Angry red tip swollen and trickling with a clear liquid. You look up to find him staring helplessly down at you, gulping. A nervous fear is eating away at your throat; you’ve never done this before, how are you supposed to know how right now?

‘Teach me.’ Your fingers come around the base of his shaft and he gasps audibly.

‘Uh-’ Another gulp. ‘Lick the tip.��

You lick the tip. Drawing your tongue over his engorged head, tasting his salty precum that continues to leak out of him profusely. He curses.

‘Like that?’ Your mouth doesn’t leave him as you say.

‘Mhmm.’ He runs his hand through his dark locks in exasperation. ‘Suck on it gently.’

You suck on it gently. Lips wrapped around his tip like a vacuum while you breath him in. Your cheeks hollow. You look up at him for approval. One eye is clamped shut, the other is barely held open to witness the most seraphic scene.

‘Fuck, noona, like this.’

You try to take in more, letting his wide cock slide into your mouth, careful not to scrape your teeth against his hilt. When he hits the back of your throat, you gag and splutter around him. Embarrassment shoots at you, yet when you glance up, he doesn’t seem to care.

Instead, he brushes your hair behind your ear and coos, ‘Careful, noona.’ He’s so sweet, so dear, you feel a crack in your heart.

So you try again, this time slower, swallowing as much of him as you can. Your hand swirl around his shaft while his massages the back of your scalp. You roll your tongue around his head every time you come up, flickering at his slit. Soon, your pace increases along with your confidence. Jungkook is a mess under you, thighs quivering, toes curling. Humming in satisfaction, your vibrations resonate into his dick and he yelps.

‘Noona, stop before I cum.’ The way he pleads sends your cunt throbbing. You pull his member out of your mouth almost obscenely, inhaling sharply for air.

He gently places you on your back, finger tracing your drenched lips in endearment. ‘Was that ok?’

‘That was perfect, noona. Are you sure that was your first time?’ Doe eyes wide in awe of you. You giggle and nod, glowing in timid pride. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

At that, the reality of this situation hits you. This is happening, this is actually happening. You’re going to have sex for the first time. With Jungkook.

Are you sure you want to do this?

You are sure you want to do this. If not with him, then no one else.

‘Yes.’ You state firmly, eyes never once wavering from his.

His gaze on you is so soft, yet so intense, you want to melt under him. ‘Okay. I- I need to go find a condom in Jimin’s room.’

Fuzzy with your feelings for him, you watch him scramble off in the dark to the other room. Loud clangs echo down the hall, you can’t help but smile at the thought of him digging through Jimin’s pig sty, frantically searching with his rock hard cock.

Jungkook returns moments later to the sight of you completely naked on his bed. Gaping like a little boy, he almost falls onto you as he climbs onto the bed while he tears off his own top. For a minute, you two just stare at each other’s bodies, allowing the beauty to sink in and etch itself forever in your souls.

‘Noona, you’re so beautiful. Do you know that?’ He leans over to kiss all over your face.

A warm prickle sieges your heart. No one has ever called you beautiful before. Emotion floods you like an ocean, and you’re suddenly met with a familiar sting behind your eyes.

He hovers over your lips, nose rubbing on yours so lovingly you want to cry. You’re at a loss for words, so you just nod, not daring to peep a sound lest a tear escapes from you.

His hands are shaking as he rolls on the condom. Prudently, he kisses up your inner thighs before spreading them open with care. Finally, he pecks the top of your flower fondly.

Then slowly he rests his elbow beside your head and situate himself between your legs. Both your breaths are wobbly, you search his face for security and find it. His irises reflect his galaxy - you. And your fear ebbs away.

Stroking his tip along your wetness, he kisses the shell of your ear. ‘Are you really really sure?’

‘Yes, Jungkook.’ Your fingers entangle in his hair assuringly.

‘Tell me to stop if it hurts a lot. Promise, noona?’ His concern is heart wrenching.

‘Promise.’ You whisper, other hand locking with his.

Only then does he begin to ease into you. At first you don’t feel much, just his tip diving into you. Then the rest of his length pushes in, plunging through a tremendous pressure built into your walls. Pain blooms inside you as he enters deeper and deeper, it’s an ache that you anticipated but never imagined. You both cry out, though for different reasons.

‘Are you okay?’ You can tell he’s struggling to stay still, shoulders tensing at the temptation to thrust again.

‘Mhmm.’ You manage to gripe. Because despite the blinding pain, you are okay.

‘I’m gonna go as slow as I can.’ He ensures you, fingers tightening around yours.

When he plunges into you again, you expect the hurt to lessen, but it doesn’t. It overwhelms your whole body, yanking inside you. Though, every time he kisses your lips so tenderly, your forget the soreness he’s impaling into you for a fresh second. Opening your eyes, you see him panting at your tightness, trying with every muscle in his body not to go wild at you.

‘Fuck, noona.’ He exhales, forehead rested on yours.

Seeing him so berserk with pleasure calms your running anxiety. His thrusts inevitably quickens, and you just about begin to see pass the pain. Behind the ache, there’s a gratifying sting clenching your walls. The slap of his hips against your thighs ring loud.

‘Still okay?’ Jungkook asks again, worry painting his face at your silence.

‘Yes, you can go faster.’ You answer despite the ever-present soreness. When he drives hard into you, stars and tears blurring your vision.

Something in him snaps as you feel him twitch inside you. His movements grow sloppy and feral, just like the grunts that he heaves. Chasing his climax, you can tell how close he is to his sweet release.

‘Oh- Noona, I’m so cl-ose.’ He’s whimpering into your neck.

‘Jungkook, baby. Come for me.’

At your name for him, he goes crazy, ramming into you with a strength and stamina that you couldn’t expect less of from him. ‘Noona…’ He begs. The pressure inside you is easing, pain dulling, though you know you won’t feel any pleasure this time round.

Then, in one last powerful push, he ejects into you with a loud cry. You pull his lips to yours immediately to soothe his euphoria. This look of pure pleasure on his face rips you to shred as he refuses to let go of your hand. His hips jerk into yours to ride out is high as his whole body deflates onto you.

Although it’s a freezing night, goosebump plaguing both your skins, neither of you feel cold. Instead, you are enshrouded by the warmth of your passion and desire, all you feel is each other.

You, wrapped tightly around him, and him, spasming inside you.

Heavy with exhaustion, he nuzzles up to kiss you. Long, slow and hard. You have never truly appreciated his beauty until this point, under the subtle snow-clouded moon, eyes boring into you with a never-dimming glow of adoration.

Jungkook removes himself from you, hastily disposing the condom to not miss a moment by your side. Dressing you first so you don’t catch a breeze of cold, his touch feels so much warmer, gentler.

Snuggled up under the covers, he holds you so close to him that you hear his beating heart. For a timeless passage, you stare into each other wordlessly, fingers tracing delicately over every patch of skin.

‘Y/N...’ He muses out loud. ‘Y/N… You don’t know how perfect you are…’

Again, he has rendered you speechless.

Caressing your cheek in his palm, he continues. ‘I wish you could see yourself through my eyes because then you would understand why I’m so completely in love with you.’

At his words, your throat constrict. ‘What?’ You choke out.

‘I’m in love with you, noona.’ His lips are trembling, chest pounding against you. Disquietude emanates from how he’s peering at you.

‘Oh.’

‘I don’t know how you never knew, I mean- I guess it’s pretty obvious from the way I act around you. Even Yoongi-hyung spotted it right away…’ He begins to ramble, focus hopping to the collar of your jumper that he’s toying with. ‘I just… I don’t know. There’s something so special about you that I can’t find in anyone else. I thought it was just a crush but... but then you moved in with us and… And my feelings for you just drove me insane. That’s why I kept trying to avoid you. I know I wouldn’t be able to hide it if I actually spent time with you, I’m kinda stupid when it comes to girls if you can’t tell already.

‘But the truth is,’ he takes a deep breath and sighs, ‘I am truly, deeply, madly in love with you, Y/N noona. Everything about you. The way you devour jajangmyeon as easily as breathing. The way you never go a day in winter without wearing these fuzzy socks. The way you only drink lattes and chamomile tea. The way you would rather spend your friday nights curled up with a book. The way you pretend to find Jimin annoying but secretly love the attention he gives you. The way you rushed out to find me in the snow and forgot the bring your keys. And the way you can’t talk to me without stuttering just like how I can’t look you in the eye when we have a conversation.

‘I know this is a lot to spring onto you, and I don’t expect you to love me back at all. But just know that I’m here for you whenever you need. I’m your furnace in a snowstorm, hand warmer in a blizzard. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same for me, I’ll still be here.’

Jungkook finishes with a final huff.

You stare at him, dumbfounded by his confession. Emotion floods your veins at the revelation, and you can all but break down into sobs. Jaw gaping, you regard him from his arms, trying to piece together your scattered thoughts.

‘Noona, say someth-’

You kiss him, urgently and desperately. Like you’ve been drowning in a sea of lostness, aimlessly floating about to try to find your way, and he’s your first gulp of air. Mist of perplexity is finally starting to clear away, and you see the path ahead of you with crystal lucidity.

It’s Jungkook. Jungkook, who knows your favourite colour when even your own mother doesn’t. Jungkook, who waddled out into the freezing snow to buy you new socks. Jungkook, who so gently and delicately made love to you tonight. Jungkook, who has loved you unconditionally and will continue doing so regardless of your feelings towards him.

‘I think… I think I’m falling truly, deeply, madly in love with you too, Jungkook.’

End

extras: christmas special

@shookpreme @hazelelizabeth99 @teenage-hippie @bunbundesu @tangledsparkles @gingerpeachtae idk who wanted to be tagged lol 😬

02/09/2019

12K notes · View notes

stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

[against all odds, your hand is in mine] [2/4]

Seasons change, and with each comes a different story. In a world where the dead roam around, romantic companionship seems unlikely. Yet Ericson stands, and within it are four couples who are proof that it's possible.

Summer: Clouis | sleepless nights, purple and orange skies, adventure, rooftops

Read on AO3

Notes: Hi. Have some clouis I wrote at 3 o’clock in the morning when I couldn’t sleep. Just as much hand holding and smoochin’ as the last one.

[screenshot used is from the lovely @pi-creates who also helped me figure out this damn school layout... well as much as possible. the school layout is wild.]

---

Clementine used to dread night.

Before she and AJ had a stable roof over their heads, comfortable beds to sleep in, and a room to call their own. That's when night used to weigh down on them. Many sleepless nights she would lay awake in the back seat of their car with AJ curled at her side. Every little noise kept her alert, feeding into her worry.

Noisy bugs, the coo of an owl, walkers groaning in the distance, hungry animals, and sometimes dangerous people trying to survive by any means necessary- they were what occupied her mind every damn night.

What if she fell asleep and walkers surrounded the car? What if scavengers broke in and took their stuff at gunpoint? What if the place they parked wasn’t safe? What if she couldn’t get to her bag in time, or the knife from beneath the seat?

Then night would end, dawn would break, and another morning sun would rise. They would survive all over again.

Sometimes dawn was worse. She always wanted to let AJ sleep just a little longer, but couldn’t. They were back on the road with empty stomachs and never enough sleep in their systems. The same thing every damn day. She would promise AJ they would find something, that one day they would find a safe place they could call home.

She was never sure that day would come, but it did.

They were saved after a car accident that should’ve left them to the walkers, and brought to Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth.

It wasn’t easy ensuring this place as a home for herself, AJ, and the rest she’s come to love as her family, but it was worth it. Clementine doesn’t have to sleep clutching a knife in her fist anymore or lay awake wondering when they’ll find their next meal.

She doesn’t even have to worry too much about her recovery.

The loss of a leg like that? Clementine knew she wouldn’t have survived that if they were still out on the road.

Everything they went through was worth it.

While walkers still roam and there are other dangers out there, most of her other troubles were in the past. She has family to rely on now. Aasim and Louis are by her side to keep things running smoothly. AJ takes on more responsibility the older he gets. Not everything falls on her.

The only things she should think about at night now are the good things. The fact that AJ sleeps peacefully in the bed across from her, and how Louis’ arm feels draped over her waist as he rests beside her. Sleep should be easy, and night shouldn’t be intimidating.

And yet, she lies awake with thoughts so loud and overwhelming, she’s surprised they don’t rouse the entire dorm. It doesn’t help that her leg has been bothering her with “ghost pains,” as Ruby calls it, and the dorms are sweltering from the heatwave this week, leaving the air stuffy and uncomfortable. Sweat sticks to her brow and everything is uncomfortable. No matter what position she lays in, no matter how dark it is out or how open the window is, there’s no escape from any of it.

It’s hot enough that Louis suggested he sleep in the other bunk for the night so that they didn’t smother each other. They both knew that wasn’t going to happen, but it’s sweet that he tried. They’ve shared this bed for over a year now, and even though his arm is heavy and does nothing but make her warmer, it’s harder to sleep without him there.

He even tried his best to sleep as close to the wall so he could give her more space, but no matter what, he always ends up rolling over closer to her.

With a small sigh, Clementine reaches up to feel atop the dresser beside the bed. First she grazes wood- her peg leg. Pushing that aside, she finds the water bottle she kept there. Maybe that’s what she needed. The heat always made her throat dry, and the air in here is so humid it’s nearly driving her insane.

Wrapping her fingers around Louis’ wrist, she lifts his arm to slide away as gently as she can so as to not disturb him. A quick, sharp pain shoots through her thigh, and she has to bite her lip to suppress a wince. It doesn’t linger, but damn, sometimes it’s enough to put her whole body into shock.

A soft gust hits her from the window as she sits at the edge of the bed, a small relief that goes as soon as it arrives. She hopes for more windy days. At least then the heat is bearable in the shade. When everything is still and the sun is in full bloom, there’s no escape.

Louis shifts, arm spreading out across the space she no longer laid. Something about that makes her smile. Most of his face is buried in the pillow, the rest obscured by his dreadlocks. She reaches over to brush them back. Her fingers linger after tucking them behind his ear, revealing his serene expression.

There were so many nights that Clementine slept alone in the woods. Before she got AJ back, there were nights where she was convinced she’d never sleep in another bed again.

Damn it.

These thoughts… they won’t go away.

The water is just as warm as everything else, but at least it leaves her a little less parched than before. What she would give for some ice. Hell, at this point, she’s tempted to hobble out of Ericson, down to the river, and fling herself into the cool water. She wouldn’t even care if she scared away all the fish or got all gross and muddy.

The heat of a hand brushing her back startles her, causing water to dribble down her chin.

Louis rubs soothing circles over the thin material of her t-shirt. Staring up at her through drowsy, lidded eyes, he sighs.

All thoughts of the river are gone.

“Clem?” His voice is rough, quiet.

She smiles down at him. His hand falls to rest against her arm as she whispers back.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

A hum sounds from his throat, and for a moment, she thinks he’s doing as she said. But instead, Louis props himself up on an elbow to better see her through the dark.

“Your leg?” he asks, cocking his head, his brow furrowed with a concern that spreads warmth through Clementine’s chest. “Is it bothering you?”

“Only a little,” she admits with a shrug, then offers him the water bottle. “More thirsty and sweaty, if anything. Hard to get comfortable in this heat.”

Louis takes a swig of water, grimacing at the taste. “That all?”

“Mostly.”

“Bad dream?”

“Have to sleep long enough to dream.”

“Ah,” he says. Closing up the water bottle, he scoots closer to her kiss her clothed shoulder, resting his chin there. “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

“Everything, nothing,” she tries, relaxing against him. “I don’t know.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“The everything, or the nothing?”

“Whichever.”

“Nah, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“Too late, love,” he yawns. “I’m wide awake.”

She smiles. “You sound it.”

“Mmhmm.”

Clementine rubs her heavy eyes, and her hand falls into her lap only to be grabbed by him. A bit of embarrassment washes over her knowing how sweaty her palms are, but Louis doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s hot,” he grumbles when she doesn’t speak. “It’s bullshit.”

She really must be tired because she nearly chokes on a laugh. Her other hand presses against her mouth, and she freezes to check on AJ. He’s still fast asleep, sprawled over the bed and snoring. Louis chuckles into her shoulder.

Despite complaining about the heat, Louis presses closer to where he’s almost beside her. He watches outside the window. It’s not as dark as it was when they were laying in bed. Dawn’s coming, and that makes her sigh. Her only consolation is that even though she knows she’ll be tired all day, maybe it'll be enough to make her want to sleep when night comes once more.

Louis hums, and then pulls away so quick, she almost falls back. When he speaks her name, he’s strangely serious.

“Clementine?”

She loves the way he says her full name. She never told him that, but somehow he was able to figure it out.

“You up for a little adventure?” he asks.

She raises a questioning brow at him. “Uh, what kind of adventure?”

He’s out of bed, silently moving about as he whispers, “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He grabs her slipper and his boots from the corner, and her makeshift peg leg from the dresser.

“Right now?”

She’s sure by “adventure” he means playing piano in the common room until morning arrives and they have to get the day started, but it’s a bit early for that. Usually, their piano lessons are in the evening time.

Louis kneels down in front of her to help secure her peg leg. She waves him away with a suppressed giggle when he tries to slide her slipper on like in that old princess cartoon. Both hands in his, he pulls her up from the bed, only to then grab her crutches. Odd.

She’s gotten better at balancing on her peg leg for short distances, only using crutches on busy days where she needs the extra support.

“You’ll need them for where we’re going,” he explains, handing them to her.

“The common room isn’t that far.”

“Who said anything about the common room?”

Before she can respond, he grabs two pillows from the top bunk above their bed and presses a finger to her lips. He nods over at AJ, who’s still fast asleep. They try to sneak out as soundlessly as possible, but that’s hard with how loud her crutches tend to be when moving. Luckily, they don’t seem to disturb the slumbering boy.

They’re hit with the refreshing morning air as soon as they step outside. Louis walks ahead of her, stretching his arms high above his head and letting out a yawn that turns into a satisfied groan. Clementine inhales as much as her lungs allow her, the scent of cool dirt and something floral an intoxicating combination.

“Y’know, I’m not much of a morning person,” Louis says. “It’s a shame.”

“Neither am I.”

They’re both notorious for sleeping in and being the last ones up. Might be due to them being night people or having troubling sleep patterns. Either way, AJ usually has to shake them awake, and even then, they end up lying in bed until they have to get a move on.

“And yet, you’re up so early.”

“Funny,” she knocks into his shoulder with a smile. “So are you.”

“Who do we think we are?”

Louis wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to plant a quick kiss on her temple. Together they head into the admin building, passing the common room to make the slow climb up the stairs.

“So, where exactly are we going?” she asks. “Because if it’s to play piano, we missed our turn.”

Louis winks back at her. “You’ll see.”

“You have another secret piano that I don’t know about?”

“I wish, but no.”

When he brings her through a blocked-off hallway, they have to climb over a bunch of furniture and debris. She damn near gets stuck, but Louis is able to lift her up with ease. He’s gotten good at that.

She’s never been through this part of the school. It’s more decrepit than the main parts of the school she sees every day. From what she can tell, the rooms aren’t classrooms, but maybe they used to be offices? Who knows, most of the lettering on the plaques are falling apart.

At the end of the hall, there’s a ladder leading through a hole in the ceiling.

“Uhm…?

“I take it you’ve never been to the attic?” he asks, noting her puzzlement.

“Nope. I didn’t even know this place had one.”

“It’s pretty spooky up there. Lot’s of big spiders, maybe a couple of bats, and possibly a boogeyman. And a lot of old teacher shit,” Louis gives a disgusted shiver. “I think the headmaster kept some of his things up here, too. Been a while since I’ve snooped around.”

“You want to look through the headmaster’s things, or are we here to fight this boogeyman?”

“No, and no,” Louis smirks, and tosses his pillows up one at a time before stepping aside and motions for her to go first.

“Are you sure this thing’s stable?” she asks, wigging the ladder. Dust puffs all around it. It clearly hasn’t been used in a long time.

“No,” he replies, “but I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

“And what if we both fall?”

“Then I’ll break your fall, and you’ll break my ribs.”

She rolls her eyes. “Great.”

It’s tricky climbing such a steep ladder, but he’s right behind her to keep her steady.

The musty heat of the attic hits her first, nearly making her gag. It’s not as dark as she expected, but there is something eerie about the unknown shadows of everything stored up here. It's the kind of place where your eyes play tricks on you, making you believe things are all around you, ready to pounce. She gets another whiff of something moldy and wrinkles her nose. Dirt and dust stick to her legs and shorts, and her hand brushes something sticky, like a bundle of webs. God, she hopes she doesn’t get spiders in her hair. It’s longer and curlier than it’s ever been, and she doesn’t even have her hat to protect it.

“This is…” she trails off.

“Super romantic?” Louis questions as he climbs up the ladder. She doesn’t even need to see him to know amusement's plastered all over his face.

“No. Not even a little. It’s gross.”

Louis laughs, helping her up to wipe the grime off her back.

“Not much has changed,” he says, peering around. “Except I think something died up here? Though I don’t think I need to know for sure, and that’s not why we’re here anyway.”

He leads her over to one of the double windows, the one with the least amount of breakage. Grunting, he tries to force the rusted lock to detach. She gets a good grip on the other end, and on the count of three, they pull. Once loose, the window slides up with little effort. The problem is the remaining glass. It cracks and drops to the wooden floor, shattering.

“Damn it,” Louis curses, doing his best to kick the shards out of the way. “Here, I’ll go first, just watch where you step. That’ll go right through your slipper.”

“Yeah, that’s what I need. An infection in my other foot,” she mumbles more to herself, but Louis snorts a dry laugh anyway. She hands him the pillows and her crutches before bending through the open window herself.

It leads to the balcony overlooking the entire yard. It’s much bigger than the broken balcony outside the office, the one beneath them. It’s perhaps more than twice its size. Finally, the stench of the attic is gone with the brush of the wind. Not too strong, but enough to cool the dampness of her skin. She closes her eyes, breathing it in.

“Y’know, if we told Ruby about what’s in there, she’d have a heyday tearing it apart,” says Louis.

“She’d make you help her clean it out.”

“Well, hey, let’s not get too crazy,” Louis laughs. “I think she’d rather have Aasim’s help. It can be their special project.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he’d love that.”

Clementine’s never been up here on this balcony. She always wondered how to get up here and what the purpose of it is. Why have two dormers of the slanted roof leading to an unusable balcony?

Hell, when Mitch and Aasim hung the threatening banner across the admin building for the raid, she assumed they climbed up from the outside. She had no idea the windows opened from inside the attic.

“Huh…”

Turning from the roof, she heads to the end of the balcony. From here she can see far over their walls and through the miles of trees that are nothing more than black silhouettes against the lightening sky. It’s not the highest point overlooking the school, but it’s enough to make her a bit woozy when she looks straight down over the edge.

“Wow.”

“Pretty nice, huh?” Louis says over his shoulder. “It’s a wonder we don’t come up here anymore. The view is worth braving the attic.”

Realizing he’s not standing with her, Clementine curiously watches him throw the pillow onto the pitched roof. They slide down a little before sticking against the worn and sun-damaged tiles. She knows there isn’t anything flat on top, though. It’s an edge, so what’s he doing?

“Uh, Louis?”

“Tell me something, Clem,” he says, bracing himself against the wall of the dormer as he climbs the slope. He climbs on top of it with ease, snatching back the pillows as he asks, “When was the last time you woke up early, sat down, and enjoyed a good sunrise?”

The question isn’t what Clementine expected. Truth be told, she’s watched the sunrise many times. All those sleepless nights that occupied her thoughts tonight, they all ended with her watching with a pit in her stomach as the sunrise brought morning.

But thinking about it now, she hasn’t watched a sunrise since…

“Well, the last sunrise I saw was when I was bitten,” she says slowly. “AJ and I walked through the woods and didn’t stop until morning, but I guess that doesn’t really count. I wasn’t sitting… and I wasn’t paying too much attention to it. I was worried about other things.”

Louis is quiet, and she can tell he’s panicking, second-guessing himself.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I uh… I didn’t mean to bring that up. I forgot that you… shit.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head, moving away from the edge. “Louis, it’s okay. I know.” She sets her crutches against the other dormer and smiles. “You gonna help me up?”

Relief loosens his shoulders, and he grins back. She can still see the uncertainty lining his dark eyes, and makes a note to reassure him once she gets up there.

Locking his hand with hers, Louis helps pull her up to him. He loops an arm around her waist, and with ease, she’s sitting on top of the dormer's roof, facing him. She can see why he brought pillows. This would be painful without them. It takes them a moment of shifting and fussing with the pillows before they find a comfortable position. Facing where the sun would eventually rise, they sit close with their legs laying off the side.

They both catch their breaths, and Clementine places a hand over his that rests comfortably on her thigh.

“You good? How’s your leg?’ he asks.

“A little sore, but that’s nothing new.” She brings his wrist to her lips. “Thank you.”

He chuckles a bit, tipping his head forward as if to hide his smile. That wouldn’t do. Leaning forward, Clementine caught his lips with hers for a quick kiss, only for it to be broken when she nearly lost her balance.

“Don’t fall off!” he exclaims, clutching her waist. “If you fall, I’m gonna have to fall after you, and it’ll be embarrassing when the others find us all mangled up here.”

"Don't worry, I'll break your fall."

"Ha ha."

She follows his gaze to the sky.

It’s light blue now, almost a cool gray with wisps of burgundy clouds, and all the stars are gone. It’s peaceful, the ambiance of rustling leaves and birds chirping their morning songs soothing. The breeze even brings with it a chill that tingles through her arms.

It’s so much different up here than it was in the dorms, or even just in the yard. It’s crazy to her that not an hour ago, she was lying in her bed, uncomfortable… overwhelmed. Now, the smallest bit of glow teases behind the trees, and she can only think about how Louis’ hand in hers makes her chest swell.

It’s easier to keep those unwanted thoughts away, and she wonders if it’s silly to think that the thoughts can’t find her up this high. As if those miserable, painful memories couldn’t always find her.

Everything matters, and yet up here, so does nothing, and she’s strangely happy about that.

The radiating light blooms, warming blues into purples and oranges, light bleeding through the trees onto the grounds of Ericson. An amber cast washes over them and the dark rooftop.

It’s never looked like this before. Or if it did, she ignored it for years.

Clementine steals a glance at Louis, admiring the glow against his freckled skin. It reflects in his dark eyes. Her heart quickens. She always thought of him handsome, and he only grew more so the closer they became over the years.

But sitting here with him on the roof of the admin building, watching dawn break all the colors of the world, she could only think of him as beautiful. Not just because of his looks, or even the things he said to her tonight or any other night. It’s in the way he holds himself and who he was and who he became. It’s the way he smiles not only with his lips, but with his eyes. She trusts him. She hasn’t felt so safe in the arms of another since she was a little girl hugging her parents or entrusting her life with Lee, and that meant everything to her.

“We don’t have to talk about what’s bothering you,” Louis says suddenly. “I just want you to know that I’m here, okay?”

He’s watching her now, studying her now that he’s caught her staring.

“It doesn’t matter,” she manages, voice coming out much shakier than intended.

“Yes, it does.”

“I don’t want to think about the past.”

Louis kisses her wrist. “Okay.”

That’s more than enough reason for her to lean over and hug him, and when his arms wrap around her, she decides she wants to stay up here. She’d give up sleeping in, her worst habit, to do this again.

He kisses her slow, hand brushing the back of her neck to curl in her hair. She shivers, bringing him closer than before to deepen the kiss. They’ve done this hundreds of times before, but kissing Louis never fails to make her forget everything else, even if only for a fleeting second.

Nothing else. Just right now.

"Clementine."

This moment.

His lips on hers.

The sun. The morning air.

These feelings.

Like every day, the sun rises, and it’s another day.

#[against all odds your hand in is mine]#twdg clouis #twdg clementine #twdg louis #clouis #clementine twdg #louis twdg #twdg louisentine #louisentine #summer: clouis #thank you for reading #it's super appreciated! :D #twdg fanfics #twdg fanfiction

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.15

Jealousy Incarnate

11/09/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 6,639

Warnings: language, angst, pining, fluff, jealousy, confused Peter Parker

A/N: Oh man, I’ve had a WEEK. My pain flared up out of nowhere and then I just couldn’t focus my brain. It was hell to get this chapter out, not because I didn’t want to but I just couldn’t. It rarely happens but I just couldn’t concentrate. Anyway, I hope you like this one. Things are...changing. Let me know what you think! As this story gets so many comments, I cannot reply to all of them but I DO read them all. I will try and respond to some of them. I love y’all so much. You mean the world to me. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

TAGS ARE CLOSED FOR THIS STORY!

You didn’t know you could be this angry. This hurt. This…jealous?

The festering boil that Maggie’s constant mention had brought, you thought, had been done away with.

True to his word, Steve did everything in his power to show you that it was you and only you.

As you’d begun your descent through the castle's pretty dark oak hallways, warm wooden walls lined with portraits and colorful tapestries, you’d almost made up your mind to pull him aside and just give in.

Love him as you were meant to. As you’ve been wanting to do.

You've been feeling less and less apprehensive with his Majesty and you’re just about ready to welcome him back into your bed.

Back into your life, properly. As your husband.

You still need to tell him about the baby too. Another month gone and you still haven’t told him, and your belly is just starting to swell.

You reach down and give it a quick caress over your dress, fingers tracing the delicate and ornate embroidery of the firm black bodice. The orange silk shirt underneath with it’s ruffled and off the shoulder neckline keep you cool in the last heatwave of autumn before true winter comes. Does it snow here? You aren’t sure.

The gray skirt is light weight, flowing around you like a gossamer cloud with only the faintest hints of black thunder within.

Around your neck you’re wearing your locket. Carefully you reach up to fix it as you head for the garden, where you know his Majesty will be.

He goes every day to walk the space, wondering if today will be the day you come down, or so he says.

You’ve tried to catch glimpse of him in the weeks past and you do see him wandering around in the afternoons.

Today you’re sure is the day to forgive him. Truly forgive him. For everything. Today, you and his Majesty can start all over again. Today is the day that your new life begins.

Turning into the garden, your feet stutter as you watch his Majesty walk towards the hedge and flower maze entrance, his wide shoulders relaxed. He has his hands held behind his back, but his face is happy, smiling, not a care in the world it seems.

Not even for you.

Despite his proclamations of coming down here to wait for you, there he goes, walking side by side with a blonde woman who stands taller and firmer than you will ever be. Her body even through the luxurious diamond blue gown she’s wearing is clearly fit and able.

You’re no slouch but her body is ridiculous. Carefully crafted protection. You shouldn’t compare. You shouldn’t do it, but your body is swelling. Your breasts are already growing larger. The fatty places, already soft and jiggly are thickening more.

She reaches out to grab his Majesty’s bicep and gives it a squeeze as she laughs, and he laughs with her.

He’s laughing with her!

You’re not expecting the tightness in your chest at the sight of him smiling and laughing with someone else. Not pulling away when she touches him the way he’d done so many times with you.

You can still remember trying to reach for his hand on your wedding day and he’d quickly pulled his hand out of reach.

You see red and huff. Fed up.

He turns to talk to her but then as you step back, your movement seems to catch his eye.

Quickly as you can, while his smiling eyes are taking a split second to recognize you, you turn and hurry back towards the castle, moving around the garden gate and out of sight, a flurry of voile skirt following in your wake.

You hear him before you see him, heart pounding with betrayal.

Suddenly he’s on you, his hand around your wrist as you turn to look at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes.

“Y/N…” He says in thick desperation that forms a lump in your throat. “You came.”

He smiles. And you hate him all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come with me.” Nat urges you, moving to pull you up from bed.

“Nat, I’m not even dressed yet.” You complain, moving towards the basin in the corner of your room where you’ve taken to running every morning. Sometimes after midday as well.

This baby is not making your pregnancy easy.

Nat sees where you’re headed and her excitement fades as her brow furrows instead.

“You okay?” She releases your hand and instead wraps an arm around your lower back.

“I’m fine.” You chuckle, pushing her arm away.

She and grandmother have been fussing over you since she arrived, watching your every move, every pain, every dizzy spell.

“Just a bit sick to my stomach. Nothing out of the ordinary.” You assure her and stop by your table instead to pick at your breakfast.

You stare at the jam in agony, wishing you could take a bite of the strawberry delicacy that his Majesty had sent up for you two mornings ago. It was better than the last and you wish you could eat it, but the baby does not like it and so, it sits there. Ignored.

You eat only a bit of bread. Then carefully raise the cup of wormwood and mint tea, suggested by grandmother for its calming properties.

Scrunching your nose, you sip it, and relish when your stomach settles a little. The taste is not exactly your favorite, but you’ll gladly sacrifice your taste buds to stop being sick every five minutes.

“Are you sure? I can fetch Grandmother.” Nat offers, adopting the name you’ve been calling the old woman since she arrived.

“I’m sure. I’ll feel better when I can eat. I’m hungry but at the same time, I cannot stand to look at food.” You sigh, missing your jams and jellies.

“Well, let’s get you dressed.” She hurries over to your wardrobe to look at your dresses and opts for something simple.

A white gown made of flowing light fabric. It kind of looks like cotton but not quite. It’s minimal compared to the other gowns you’ve worn around the castle. Just white. No design. Only a simple ruffle around the neck to accent your bust.

“Why?” You plead without whining.

“Because I have something to show you. Something that you must see. No exceptions. I also have something for you when we get down there.” She offers ominously.

“Down where?” You ask, moving to her as she throws your dress over the back of the opposite chair at your table then holds her hands out and waits for you to stand still to strip you.

“You’ll see.” She’s grinning like a cat, and you’re suddenly terrified.

It turns out to be the garden that Nat wants to take you to.

Fresh air is just what you need, and you find that your stomach settles completely once you’re out in the open space.

“This was a good idea.” You smile, feeling at ease and better than you’ve felt since you got back.

Of course, his Majesty is always on your mind. He’s the whole reason you’ve come back.

He’s the last piece of your puzzle. The reason you don’t sleep soundly.

And yet, he’s your husband. How can someone that’s already yours drive you this mad?

“I’m glad you think so.” Nat smiles beside you, her arm wrapped around yours as she leads you down the familiar path.

The gardens are alive with the end of the season. Dragonflies glisten with pearlescent wings, birds and bees fill the air, whizzing by in the comforting breeze. The sun pimples your skin as you soak it up and your hand subconsciously moves over your still normal tummy, excited to give your baby healthy sunshine.

The air is fragrant. The endless flowers, which you now notice have been left to grow wild, paint the garden in vibrant colors.

He listened. You can’t help but think. Because you’d told his Majesty that your only criticism with the beautiful space is that everything was too well kept. Too structured.

Now the gardens have begun to resemble the wildflowers you’d napped in on rolling green hills back in Malibia.

This garden…most of it anyway, makes you feel like you’re home.

You make to turn to the left, away from Margaret’s pavilion which his Majesty had banned you from using—the only spot in this lovely place that makes you feel like an intruder still…unwelcome—but Nat pulls you to a stop and turns towards the right.

“Let’s go this way. We never go this way.” She insists, forcing her manipulation to sound like genuine pleading. You can see right through her though.

“Because there isn’t anything over there, except a place that I’m not allowed to go.” You sigh and move once more towards the left, pulling your arm from Nat's when she doesn’t move.

You get three steps before there’s a deep sigh. “Wait!”

Stopping, you turn to look at the wily Goddess and she rolls her eyes, reaching into her dress pocket to pull out a thick piece of parchment.

“What’s that?” You wonder, suddenly nervous because you know very well what it is.

“I wanted to see your face when you see it, but I suppose I should just do it his way. Here.” She offers the parchment to you looking disappointed.

“His way?” You repeat, confuse and moving back towards her.

Taking the folded piece, you open it up and stare down at his Majesty's familiar hand.

My Darling,

He begins, and your heart beats crazy.

I understand why you cannot see me. Rather, why you won’t see me. I have done nothing but make you feel as if you do not belong here. Such is my crime.

You frown, hating the reminder.

I didn’t know what you would come to mean to me. How could I when you came out of nowhere and struck me down like a bolt of lightning? I want you to know that I wholeheartedly regret the things I said…and did. You didn’t deserve them. I was a fool. I wish I could take them back. All of them.

Especially our wedding night. My heart is raw knowing that I hurt you that way. I love you. I can’t believe I…

From this day forth, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you know just how much you mean to me.

You’re chewing your lip furiously, anxious and somehow grateful for the words he’s written but only time will tell how well he can keep that promise.

This is your home, sweetheart. You’re my one and only from now until our dying day. Forgive me for making you feel as if you had to compete with someone else.

The funny thing is, you can see the intent behind his words even though he only half means them.

You can tell that he means them in the sense that you are his future. He loves you as his current wife. The woman who will be the mother of his children though, he doesn’t know that yet.

In that sense, he means it, but he also meant every word about Margaret. He loved her to death and when she died, he fell apart. He ceased to function.

She had a part of him that you can never touch. Not in the same way and you feel slightly sad that he feels he must bury that down to make you happy.

He should make you happy just as you want to make him happy, but that doesn’t mean you like the way he’s going about it. You’d much rather he be open with you, no matter how painful hearing about Margaret might be.

Maybe so long as he doesn’t compare you, then you’ll be okay?

I hope this small gesture will prove to you that I mean what I say. I’ve instructed Nat to take you.

You’ve been walking down the pathway towards the opening with the pavilion and suddenly it springs out of the greenery.

You gasp, completely thrown by the fact that Margaret’s red daisies are gone and in their place are what must be hundreds and hundreds of pale pink and peach peonies.

They rustle in the breeze, wafting sweet fragrance towards you threatening to knock you off your feet with how much you want to swoon.

With shallow breath, a gasp of air you hadn’t realized you’d been depriving yourself of, you look back down at the letter.

For the one that I crushed. I am the biggest moron in the twelve Kingdoms.

I love you, Y/N. Believe me or not, it does not change the fact that it’s true. Never forget that I am waiting.

I will wait forever if I must, patiently. Longingly. Desperately waiting for you to love me and this time I will gladly let you.

Yours forever,

His Majesty King Steve G. Rogers

You don’t know what to do. You want to cry because you’re so happy, but you also want to laugh because this letter is everything you’ve wanted him to tell you. You’re angry because it isn’t in person, but you have only yourself to blame for that.

You begged him to stay away and you do still want him to keep his distance. But you wish you could look into his eyes and see if he means these things he’s writing.

“Y/N?” Nat checks, peeking around a small hedge. “You okay?”

You turn to her and nod, smiling lightly as tears glisten between your lashes but do not fall.

“I…Why couldn’t he be like this from the start?” You sigh, looking down at your letter and then looking up at the peonies standing in pleasing contrast against the dark stone of the little build.

Nat sighs. “I think he wanted to.”

You look at her, not believing her one bit. “But…”

“I think that’s exactly what made him mean. Steve has always been one for commitment. For duty and honor and marrying you was not exactly his choice. I’m not saying that he isn’t glad he did it, but the council pushed him to marry quickly. Before he was ready to let go of Maggie.

“I don’t think he was expecting to like you as much as he did. To love you. Truly love you and also still love her. They made promises to each other when they thought that they had forever and then forever was gone. But he still made those promises and ever a man of his word, he tried to keep himself from giving in to you.” Nat smiles at you, reaching over to rub your back.

“So, what you’re saying is that he was purposefully cruel because he was in love with me and didn’t want to be?” You repeat for her.

Nat’s smile turns apologetic and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I don’t know if I can forgive him, Nat. I have had no experience in love. I was a virgin when we married. I…Thor was my first kiss. My first real one that wasn’t taken by force.” Some of the men of your village were disgusting and only a knife to the throat could deter them. “It should have been Steve. His hands should have been soft and gentle. Instead, he held me down and…”

“He knows that you need time.” Nat assures you. “But do you think you can forgive him eventually? Enough to be with him? To be his wife again?”

You lapse into silence, staring at the romantic gesture before you and notice inside the gazebo a small table has been set up with teas, biscuits, and jams.

Your heart swells, fluttering in your chest as you huff a small breath of delight.

Now that you’ve been outside for a while, you realize how hungry you are and your stomach growls loudly.

“Is he trying to overfeed me?” Your heart grows wary. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

You turn to Nat who shakes her head. “Of course not. No one but Grandmother and I know and we’re not telling anyone until you’re ready. But Y/N, you can’t keep this to yourself for long. The council will usurp Steve if he doesn’t produce an heir. You have just under five months left to announce your pregnancy and have a doctor examine you to ascertain the validity of your pregnancy.”

“I know.” You move towards the pavilion, taking in the tall steeple roof that you just now realize ends in a point made of glass. It gives view to the sky. “I just didn’t want him to love me for the baby.”

“He’s already in love with you.” Nat promises. “Baby or not. He wants you.”

“Will he be happy?” You wonder. “Truly happy? Will he regret that it isn’t with Maggie that he’s building a family? Will he love my baby as much as he would have loved hers?”

Your mouth runs on, asking the questions only your heart knows. Afraid of being second to a memory. Afraid to hear him say those words again, “Maggie wouldn’t-Maggie would-Maggie did-Maggie, Maggie, Maggie”.

“Y/N…” Nat begins.

“It’s stupid to be jealous of her. I know that.” You sit in the small padded seat and reach over to lather jam on a biscuit and take a nice big bite.

No nausea.

“When you’re ready, ask him. And I’m sure he will tell you exactly how he feels about you and your baby. His baby, Y/N.” She reminds you.

You nod. “Our baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s just a peek. That’s all Steve wants. Just a quick look.

He knows you came down here because Peter came to tell him.

Peter who has been moping around Steve instead of being with you and Nat as he usually is because you’ve instructed him to stay away too.

He’s right beside him now, walking silently the way the kid does.

His mouth is a different story.

“What did I do? Do you think I offended her Majesty in some way?” Peter asks, gesturing his chest over his pale green tunic. “I understand why she doesn’t want to speak with you or having you around. You were a huge ass to her. But me?”

Steve turns to glare at him, frowning as he turns back towards the smaller hidden pathway that leads to your pavilion.

“What? I didn’t do anything to make her angry.” Peter reiterates.

“No.” Steve sighs. “She might just need some space. Talk about women’s problems with Nat.”

Or tell her about things that you’d done with Thor that you didn’t want to say around Peter?

Even though Thor had assured him that he hadn’t lain with you, Steve wonders.

“You’re sure she never asked about him?” Steve questions your guard and Peter frowns at him this time.

“Why do you keep asking me?”

“I just want to be sure.” He explains. “They spent a lot of time together.”

“Your Majesty, Steve…if she wasn’t in love with you, she wouldn’t be pushing you away right now. She has to really care about you to be pissed enough to give you the cold shoulder. If she were talking to you like normal, then I think you’d have reason to worry.

“If she stops getting angry, then it means she doesn’t care.” Peter nods. “She never asked about Thor. Not to me.”

Steve stares at the kid—at twenty-two he’s not really a kid anymore but to Steve he’ll always be that massively strong little twerp that stole his shield—and realizes that he’s right.

You’re angry. Which means that you still care. Steve smiles and walks on, shifting into a semi-crouch as they get closer to a small opening in the hedge that is hidden behind a well-placed tree.

“Why are we here?” Peter asks, whispering because Steve’s crouching makes everything feel sneaky.

“I just want to see if she likes it.” Steve stops behind the tree, peeking out towards the pavilion.

All of Margaret’s red daisies are one, replaced by large, fragrant, and beautiful peonies in peach and pink shades.

His heart gives a small ache at the absence of the flower he’s associated with Maggie for almost twenty years, but then he sees you, sitting in the pavilion, smiling from ear to ear.

You’re a vision in white. No…more like a cream, with a pale green ribbon around your waist. The ruffles on your neckline accentuate your breasts and Steve’s heart gives a small ache. He wants to have you in his arms again.

Beneath him, beside him, inside you as one but properly this time. Showing you just how much he should have been worshipping your precious body from day one.

You laugh lightly, chuckling at something Nat has said then reach out to grab a biscuit and smear some jam on it.

You take a bite and the sticky pulp smears against your pretty lips.

Steve swallows hard, then his mouth falls open as he gapes at you while you lick your lips clean. Had your mouth always been so tempting?

He’d been fighting himself so hard that he had never given himself a chance to really look at you and appreciate the small details of your body. Now it’s all he sees. The way your hands elegantly curl around a tart. The gentle way you throw your head back and laugh as Nat serves your tea.

He grins when you slouch and then as if you’re remembering you shouldn’t be slouching, you suddenly sit up straight and he can see you chastising yourself silently for the slip.

He’d give anything to move to you and rub your back, assure you that you can slouch and lay back if you want to. Convention is only for when the public can see you. At least in these instances. Tiny things like this…you should be comfortable in your home.

Suddenly, he realizes that you are. Forgetting to sit up straight, laughing in the pavilion, surrounded by the flower and its fragrance that has permanently seeped into your skin and hair. You are completely at ease in this spot and he feels a pain in his gut that moves up along his ribs and into his chest carving out splinters because this should have always been yours.

He made you feel unwelcome…how can he ever make it up to you?

“Steve…?” Peter whispers, and Steve’s head inches to turn to him but when he doesn’t Steve takes the nod as assent to continue. “Do you really love her?”

For a moment, Steve can only stare at you and ask himself that same question. You lay your elbow on the back of the bench and lean your head into your hand as you take a bite once more, staring at Nat as she animatedly recounts some tale.

Your hair falls around your face, the small smile that stretches your lips is angelic. Perfection. Why did he have to wake up to your true charms so late? Why couldn’t he have given in sooner?

“I do.” He confesses.

“Because if you don’t—and you’re just using her so that you can get your heir and keep your crown-” Peter begins.

Steve rounds to look at him so quickly that Peter takes a step back, hands twitching at his side, ready to web his way out of the garden if Steve tries anything.

“There was only one time that I used her. One time. And it was to save Morgana from marrying me. I think I’ve loved Y/N from the moment I saw her standing in my throne room…in that blue dress…looking excited and terrified. And heartbroken when I told her that she could never make me happy.” Steve sighs. “Now she’s the only one who can.”

He looks at you but you’re rising, eyes brimming with recognition and excitement.

Although he can’t hear you, he sees you open your mouth in an exclamation of delight. Calling to someone out of sight.

You raise your skirts and hurry down the steps of the pavilion and hurry towards the hedge path.

Lumbering out of it comes Thor, blonde hair flowing behind him as he rushes to meet you.

The two of you collide and he can hear Thor’s laugh, booming around the space and filling it with his deep chortle. He can’t hear yours, but he can see it in your face as Thor lifts you and turns you around slowly.

Without hesitation, he leans in and kisses your lips. A quick peck that might be in friendship but the both of you shut your eyes and Steve must look away as his chest is cracked open. He wraps his hand around the backside of the tree he’s hiding behind, fingers crumbling away at the bark as he curls his hand around it in a fist.

He tears his eyes back up to the two of you, forcing himself to watch.

All that affection…over a month…

“What did I do?” Steve wonders, trying to see it all through new eyes how he pushed you and neglected you and refused to give you love.

Thor’s got his hands on either side of your waist and he’s looking down at you as if he’s examining your body and Steve hates him again. And himself. Mostly himself.

Thor steps aside and from the path comes a smaller body, thinner, long straight brown hair flying behind her as she races to embrace you.

Morgana.

Tony and Pepper follow a few steps behind but stand back to allow you and your sister to reunite.

“Steve?” Peter checks with worry in his voice. “You okay?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Your Majesty?”

“No.” Steve admits. “I’m not. I have work to do.”

Without another word, Steve pushes past him and heads back up to the castle to finish what he’d started in his office.

If he’s going to win you back, he’s going to have to really try.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re at a loss for words, arms clinging to the teen girl because her own hug is so very tight.

With wide eyes you look up at Tony and Pepper who stand there smiling at you fondly.

You can’t say what you’d like because Thor is here so instead you carefully tuck Morgana’s brown hair behind her ear and coax her head up to look at you.

“Mara…” You coo, happy to meet your sister at last. “I’m so glad you’re finally home.”

“I’ve been home.” She says, half laughing and it’s only now that you realize how distinguished she sounds. How much of a princess she really and truly is as opposed to you… “On the way here, I was telling Thor that I’d only seen you a few times a year so when you offered to take my place as King Rogers’s bride, I was so full of love and gratitude. I can never explain the complexities of how I feel to finally have you in my life once again. Thank you.”

She’s letting it all out, spilling everything in so few words. Telling you that she’s grateful that father found you and that you agreed to marry his Majesty. She’s telling you that she accepts you as her sister and that she understands that where you come from is a secret and she is going to do everything in her power to keep it for you.

You smile at her, hoping it’s with fondness that you do so.

“Tell me everything.” She suddenly gushes, and then slides to stand beside you. “Can I stay with you for a few weeks? Will Steve mind?”

Even Morgana calls him by his first name?

You nod. “You can stay. I’m sure he won’t mind. You’re my precious sister. I dare him to try.”

Morgana laughs, wrapping her arm around yours and leading you back up to the pavilion where Pepper, Tony, and Nat follow.

The next few weeks are full of time spent with your family.

Every day you wake up and have breakfast with Morgana, Thor, or Tony and Pepper until they finally have to leave to deal with kingdom business. Morgana stays. So does Thor. And because you’re not ready for anyone to know about the baby yet, you have to make even more adjustments to your day-to-day life.

Before the castle wakes, Grandmother comes to see you. Often, you’re already up, spewing your dinner into its designated basin. Nat isn’t around this early so it’s up to you to take care of yourself.

Grandmother checks your body, measures your stomach which steadily begins to curve outwards. After a month, your bump is finally large enough to notice, but only when you stand naked or when someone comes to feel it.

Nat does this every day and she has to look for it to feel the hard, little pebble that seems to be growing in your belly.

You’re so happy and it’s dimmed by only one thing.

After lunch you take your reading and writing lessons, and as he always does, his Majesty waits to cross into his council chambers as you exit the large library.

He stops, his eyes devouring the sight of you.

Every time he does it, your cheeks burn, and your neck overheats. Every day he looks bit more tortured.

Finally, after the third week of not speaking with him, he sends word with Nat.

“Another one?” You ask, looking across your room at the vases of flowers that he’s sent. There are gifts still unopened on one of your tables by the window.

They’re lovely, and you are grateful, but you’re starting to think that he may be wanting to buy your affections, so you stop opening them and just stare at the slowly growing pile.

“It’s just him telling you that he’ll be walking in the garden if you ever wish to join him. He’s getting desperate.” Nat’s lips curve into a satisfied half smile.

“Why is that funny?” You wonder, staring at the letter before moving over to your window to try and get a good look at the garden but from this side you can’t see much.

“No one has ever made him work this hard.” She tells you. “With Maggie everything was just decided. They were together one day then they were getting married. It all just fell into place.”

You sigh. “I wanted it to be that easy for us.”

“I know. But I’m glad it isn’t. I think it’ll make you both stronger in the end.” She nods.

With a sigh you turn to look at her, watching her fill your bath.

“What about you?” You demand.

“What about me?” She widens her green eyes, shaking her head as she measures your oils.

“When are you going to stop torturing Bucky and marry him?” You bite.

“Oh, no. Not you too.” Nat gripes.

“You know what? I think that’s a valid question.” A deep voice offers.

In your doorway, Bucky stands with his arms crossed over his chest.

“When are you going to marry me? I can’t keep waiting for you, my scarlet rose. I’m an eligible bachelor. I have many women who would love to be Lady Barnes.” He boasts.

“Oh, is that so?” Nat wonders, eyes narrowed to slits. “Well, then I guess you don’t need me then.”

She shrugs.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, your Majesty. I’m going to go fetch you some more hot water.” She turns and moves past Bucky, nudging him with her shoulder as she passes.

Bucky is speechless, staring at you with confusion as to how his gentle teasing went so wrong.

“What-?”

“You’re really going to just let her walk out after that?” You offer.

“Shit.” Bucky gasps, then sprints from the room after Nat. “Natasha!”

You peek out at the garden again, and this time you can see his Majesty’s wide shoulders and golden head as he waves slowly through the hedge maze in the distance, hands behind his back in contemplation.

Suddenly he looks towards your room and he stops to stare, the two of you sharing in this moment of utter pining.

Will you and he ever be as close as Nat and Bucky?

You rub your tummy and bite your lip.

How long will he wait?

~~~~~~~~~~

“Steve?” The blonde woman calls, and rounds the gate, eyes searching for him.

Steve?! She calls him, ‘Steve’?!

You stare at him, this new revelation painful.

His mouth opens and shuts as he finally sees past his own happiness to see the discomfort in your eyes.

“Oh.” The blonde says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you—You must be Y/N.”

You know damn well that she should be calling you by your title, so your heart grows a little colder and you carefully yank your hand out of his Majesty’s grip.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She hurries to his Majesty’s side and curtsies before wrapping her arm around his elbow as his own brow furrows as you inch away.

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady…?” You wait for his Majesty to speak. He should be the one to introduce the two of you.

She gives his arm a squeeze.

“What?” He looks at her and realizes what’s happening. “Oh, right. Forgive me. This is Lady Sharon Carter.”

Then he hesitates.

You fix your eyes on him, wondering what the uncertainty is for.

“Sharon…” He looks at the blond whose angelic smile is soft and controlled but real and her hand is still around his elbow! She’s a true lady. Like Morgana, so put together and controlled. A golden swan before a dulled brown pigeon. “Sharon is Margaret’s cousin. We grew up together.”

Seriously? Another Carter? This is just perfect.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You tell her, speaking quickly. “If you’ll excuse me, Lady Sharon, but I don’t feel well.”

You turn and leave them, storm cloud skirts swishing along your ankles.

You’re inside when you hear the hurried steps that then break into a run before that same heated hand is around your wrist again.

“Wait, Y/N…don’t go.” His Majesty pleads.

As you turn to pull your hand free, his Majesty tightens his grip and so it pulls you closer to him so that you’re standing inches away.

“Release me.” You speak sternly.

“Why are you upset? Did I say something?” He suddenly looks deep in thought, replaying the past ten minutes in his head.

“Your Majesty, please, release me.” You beg.

“Your Maj-? Steve, please Y/N. Call me Steve.” He doesn’t release you. “Why are you trying to leave? You came down finally. Does this mean you’re ready to speak to me?”

And he sounds like he’s finally been put out of his misery. He’s so happy that your heart aches because you made him miserable this past month and you hadn’t anticipated that. You’d only wanted a break from everything he’d brought you. Pain. Humiliation. Neglect.

You hadn’t meant to hurt him in the process.

Once more you attempt to pull yourself free, but he suddenly throws his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest.

“Why are you trying to leave me?” He asks, bringing his voice down low and quiet so that you and he are the only two in the hallway, the castle, the world.

“Did you get tired of waiting for me? Did you need company?” You ask of him, wondering if he’ll pick up on the jealousy you’re feeling. The sting of it is unbearable.

Being jealous of Maggie had been one thing. She’s gone. That blonde…Sharon…she’s right there. Clinging to his arm.

He sighs, a small smile tugging at his lips. The heat of his breath warms your lips and your body melts without your permission. He quickly compensates for the lack of resistance and cradles you closer to his body.

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” He smiles a little more, this time it reaches his eyes and they’re so dazzling in their sparkling blue that you nearly forget that you’re upset about the blonde woman with her arms on your husband. “Sharon arrive late last night. She heard that I was in the garden and came to look for me. I wasn’t expecting her.”

He licks his lips, dipping down to wrap his arms, both of them, around your waist better. He stands up straight pulling you along with him so that you’re standing on your toes a bit to compensate for the difference in height.

“I’ve only been waiting for you, pigeon.” He assures you.

Your heart flutters, stomach tumbles, as he scrunches up his nose.

“I’m not sold on the pigeon name.” He suddenly says.

“What?” You gasp, so breathless that it makes him smile a little wider.

“You are not a pigeon.” He explains. “And I’d hate to jinx us and call you a bird only to have you run off on me again.”

“I won’t-”

“I’d rather not risk it.” He sighs and begins to rock his body from side to side, taking yours with it.

“Your Maj-”

“How about pearl? Can you be my pearl?” He shakes his head. “No. You’re full of beauty and elegance. A true Queen. Noble. Royalty. A diamond? Maybe you’re my gem?”

His words sting because they’re all wrong. You’re not a true queen or noble or even remotely royal. You’d be lucky to be on the same level as a pearl. You’re definitely not a gem.

You don’t know what makes you do it. Maybe it’s because you’ve been in such pristine specimens of the upper-class lady in Morgana’s and Nat’s company? And with Sharon here too?

You’re nothing like these women. You’re nothing. No one. A peasant. A commoner.

“I’m not.” You tell him.

“If you don’t like being my gem, we can pick something else.” He says, not understanding.

“I’m no one, your Majesty.” You continue.

“Steve.” He chastises.

“I’m a peasant. Truly.”

He stops rocking.

“Father…King Anthony found me on the side of the road, helping an old woman fetch her purse from a bog. I’m an orphan. I come from nothing and no one. I’m not his true daughter. He wanted to save his daughter and you, and he begged me to do this for him and I agreed…I’m of no consequence.” Your lip trembles, threatening sorrow as you realize that you’ve told him your last secret.

The only one that matters.

He’ll kick you out. You’ll have to go back to Malibia a failure.

“I’m no one.” You repeat.

His face serious, stern, and those blue eyes boring into your own, his arms tighten.

“You’re a Rogers.” He tells you, so certain that your heart skips a beat. “You’re my wife. My Queen. And you’re my flower.”

He smiles slowly, happy at last with his term of endearment.

“And tomorrow, I’ll throw you the wedding feast that you deserved. I’m going to dance with you and make sure everyone knows that you’re mine. Especially Thor.”

You huff a laugh. Your heart soars.

He leans in towards you, licking his lips as he does.

You shut your eyes.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice floats down from behind him.

His Majesty breathes in sharply, angrily, frustrated, but turns to look at Bucky while gently placing you back on the ground.

“I’ll be right there.” His Majesty assures him, apparently exchanging words with a mere glance, then turns back to you.

“You have nothing to worry about with Sharon.” He promises, caressing the side of your head. “We’ll continue this soon?”

He’s genuinely asking you for your permission and you nod, so stunned at the sudden shift that your mind is reeling.

He leans down to kiss your cheek.

“I will send for you, Lady Rogers.” He smirks, then leaves you to stare after him and Bucky, your legs numb.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #medieval au #arranged marriage au #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #mcu fanfiction #avengers x reader #pseudo princess #pseudo princess pt15 #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #king!steve x y/n #king!steve rogers x y/n

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jupitermelichios · 4 years

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RIP to my abandonned fics

This is just me pouring one out for fic ideas that I’m never going to finish writing. If any of you fancy taking any of these ideas out for a test drive, knock yourselves out. It’s not like I’m using them.

During Tony Stark’s time at MIT he decides that to get the full college experience he needs to start a shitty garage rock band, so he puts ads up around campus and the people who answer are the OG MCU Avengers line-up. (I don’t remember now who was going to play what instrument, except that I’m fairly sure Thor was supposed to be the drummer, which is just proof that this idea could never have worked, because obviously Thor would play Keytar.)

Captain Cold gets set on fire during a LoT mission and Heatwave is way too into it.

TV Constantine persuades Chaz to have bad-dom style unhealthy BDSM sex with him in order to summon a demon they need to speak to, but Chaz will only agree if he gets to prove to John he can treat him right after.

Tim Drake is a shop assistant at Dinah Lance’s florists. Bart works at a coffee shop and keeps nearly getting fired for drinking the cinnamon syrup straight from the bottle. Kon works at Roy’s tattoo parlour. When Tim comes in to get some piercings done, Kon realises that this is the coffee-addict customer Bart’s been crushing on, and tries to set them up, but ends up falling for both of them in the process.

When criminal law professor Bruce Wayne goes missing from his college campus, it’s up to his kids, and the deranged Ethics professor they’re not supposed to know he’s dating, to figure out what’s going on. But some of these clues look a little too much like red herrings, and can they even trust a man who claims Joe Kerr is his real name?

At the height of prohibition, some priceless jewells on loan from to the Gotham museum go missing and private security guy Jason Todd realises he makes the perfect fall-guy. Fortunately Wayne Foundation boys stick together and Officer Grayson has a recommendation for the best private dick in the city. And sure Drake’s a little squirrelly and a lot weird, but he’s Jason’s last hope.

Tony doesn’t want a kid. He’s pretty sure he’s the last person on earth who should be trusted with a child in fact, but when he realises SHEILD are keeping a super-strong wall crawling four year old in a cell because they don’t know what else to do with him, what can he do except take the boy home with him? At least he’s got JARVIS to help him co-parent.

When Wade Wilson finally got a cure for the worst of his memory problems, he was expecting to get back a whole lot of mundane memories, maybe a few assisinations he’d forgotten committing. What he wasn’t expecting was to find out that apparently in all the months when he could barely remember anything day to day, he’d somehow managed to seduce the Mutant Saviour himself. Now he just has to figure out how he did it, and whether Nate even still wants him.

Getting recruited to SHIELD at seventeen was weird enough. Clint getting sent undercover to a shitty highschool in the middle of nowhere to recruit an escaped child supersoldier experiment calling himself Deadpool is a whole new level of weird. Especially when it turns out, he kind of likes his mark.

When he realises that Stiles is never going to make sensible decisions about who he sleeips with, Derek decides it’s his job as a good alpha to take control of Stiles’s sex life. He just wasn’t expecting to enjoy the control so much.

A Teen Wolf x Nailbiter AU. Beacon Hills is notorious accross America because despite being barely big enough to support a high school, it’s produced fifteen of America’s worst serial killers. When bodies start turning up in the woods, it’s up to Scott and his friends to figure out what it is about their sleepy town that produces monsters before the people they love get caught in the crossfire.

Rorschach doesn’t know what he is. When he’d asked his mom, back when he still small enough to try and reach out to her, before he learned that she’d never reach back, she’d just said “A monster.” Mostly he doesn’t care. His abilities are useful, and the work he does proves over and over that humans the real monsters. But there’s something about Dan, about the trust he shows, the way he smiles after a hard patrol, the way he’s always fussing and worrying over him, that makes Rorschach wish he was just a little more human that he is.

Everyone expected Nate to leave the Shatterdome when his co-pilot died, but he’s detirmined he’ll get back in a Yaeger one day. He takes over training the new recruits, always on the lookout for someone drift compatible, but it’s not until he catches the base’s scarred half-mad janitor doing drills with a mop that he feels that connection. It turns out Wade’s like him, a former pilot left too damaged to get back into the fight, but Nate’s sure if he can just persuade the higher-ups to give it him a try, Wade’s the second chance he’s been looking for.

The last thing Strange does before Thanos kills him is to send Tony’s conciousness back in time. He wakes up the morning after Obie’s death with a decade of memories that haven’t happened yet and absolutely no idea how to turn this into a plan to save the world.

If people are interested, I might turn some of these into not!fic, and if anyone wants to use one of these sets up as a prompt feel free (but please credit me).

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adifferentbrandofbeans · 4 years

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Heatwave

I’ve never faced an issue with seduction before. With all my partners it had come naturally, both of us sensing that the moment was right to take things to a physical level. Never have I had to think so strategically about my surroundings in order to entice someone. I’ve spent hours agonising over the smallest details; do I play music? What music would put us both in the mood without being a dead giveaway that I’m trying to get into his pants? Is music too cheesy? Would it be distracting? I can’t exactly casually put Marvin Gaye on and expect him not to raise an eyebrow. No music. Just talking. And wine. Wine’s romantic right? Can’t go wrong with a nice glass of red to relax us both. But what if we get too relaxed? Wine does have a tendency to make me sleepy, and heaven knows the last thing I want to be doing tonight is sleeping. Maybe something bubbly? Make the night into a celebration?

I grab the bottle of Moet I was gifted a few months ago, placing it on the coffee table beside some strawberries that I’ve already started doubting the need for. That’s too obvious. I might as well have lit a fire and had us lay in front of it on a furry rug.

I don’t have long enough for my doubts to spiral into full on despair as there’s a knock at the front door. I walk over to it, taking a moment to check my appearance in the mirror. I’d had no clue what to wear. What does one wear when trying to subtly get it on with the guy they’ve been seeing? I thought about going all out, wearing the skimpiest pieces of lingerie I own and ‘covering’ myself in a sheer floor-length robe. But I don’t think we’re there yet. I’d love to show him my sexiest pieces and have him stare at me, drinking me in and struggling to swallow around the lump in his throat. But I know I need to be patient. The fact that I’m stressing so much about tonight reinforces how much I need to take things slow. That’s why a simple white sundress felt like the right choice of attire, showing a little skin but nothing too raunchy. Stomach twisted in a knot, I nod to my reflection in the mirror, accepting my appearance, and open the front door to my flat.

There he is. Harry. He holds his jacket in one hand, scrunched up by his side, clearly having no use for it in this weather, the evening sun still beating down despite its position. In his other hand, he holds up a bunch of daylilies, a smile poking through the yellow petals.

“Hi gorgeous,” he says as he steps into the room, pressing his lips softly against my cheek before handing me the flowers.

“Hi,” I utter back, my voice quiet and slightly timid. I thank him for the flowers and stretch up on my toes to place a small kiss on his lips. “I have a surprise for you too,”

“I’m intrigued,” he replies with a fiendish smirk and follows behind me when I take his hand, leading him into the living room so he can spot my choice of refreshments. “What’s all this for?” he asks, bemused.

I turn into him, snaking my hands around his waist until they meet at his spine, “Just felt like celebrating. I feel really lucky to have you, you know?” I say, looking up into his bright green eyes, swearing for a second that I could have seen them glimmer at my words. It’s true. Though we haven’t been together all that long, I truly love having Harry in my life. His kindness and general demeanour never fail to warm me to my core.

“You’re incredible,” he grins, pressing his lips to mine gently. His kiss is infectious, seeming to send a muscle relaxant through my whole body until I can’t help but melt into his arms.

We sink into the sofa, limbs wrapped up in each other as hands run through hair, glide along the sides of our bodies, and pull each other closer. I can feel him smile against my lips and can’t help but copy him. There’s something about kissing Harry that ignites a part of myself, previously buried deep within me, now desperate to erupt, bubbling at the surface. He makes me feel wanted. Every touch of his lips against my skin bathes me in a new light. I feel desirable. Confident. Cherished. I want to give all of myself to him. I want to share everything I have with him. I want to make him feel as good as he makes me and show him how desired, confident and cherished he deserves to feel. I want all of him.

Now or never, I tell myself. My hands drag themselves away from my grip on the back of his neck and the tangle of his hair, finding their way to his waistband, pulling slightly on his belt buckle. I had expected this to urge him along, hoping that showing him how desperate I am to feel him would excite him and encourage the same from him. But it doesn’t. Instead he stills, placing his hands on top of mine to calm them. He stops kissing me and sits up in an attempt to cool things.

“Is everything okay?” I ask feebly, my voice barely above a whisper, partially from embarrassment and partially due to breathlessness.

“Uh,” Harry clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, I just remembered I have some work to do… admin stuff, really boring but needs doing you know…” he trails away, avoiding looking at me entirely as he scrambles to his feet and says he’ll call me later before rushing out of the door.

I let out a huff of confusion as I slump back into the cushions of the sofa. How did this go so wrong so quickly?

***

Harry didn’t call last night.

Nor did he call this morning.

The unopened bottle of champagne mocks me as I open the fridge door, grimacing at the memory of having to put it back last night. What did I do to ruin things? Things were going so well. I like Harry so much, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known, let alone anyone I’ve dated. He’s so thoughtful and selfless, always doing sweet things to let me know he’s thinking of me or squeezing me a little bit tighter when we’re out and people start to crowd. He makes me feel so special, which I know must be hard when he leads such an incredible lifestyle and meets spectacular people all the time. Maybe that’s just it; I’m not all that spectacular. I’m not glamorous. I don’t fit in with his world. I can’t even try to compare to people he’s dated in the past, and I’ve heard the rumours of what kind of guy Harry is around girls. I’ve heard all about the Harry Styles who’s passionate and exudes sexuality, hell, I’ve seen it when he performs. So why isn’t he like that with me?

I finally close the fridge door, slightly disappointed to lose some of the coolness it was providing against the sticky temperature of the day. There’s a knock at the front door and I begrudgingly answer it, fanning myself with my hand with little avail. I freeze in my tracks.

“Hi,” Harry says sheepishly, offering a small and awkward smile. “Can I come in?”

I step aside and he walks in, standing nervously in my hallway, eyes fixed on the floor and the walls; anywhere other than my direction. I sigh and break the silence, “I’m sorry for yesterday,”.

He snaps his head up and looks directly at me, “What?”

“I made you uncomfortable and I shouldn’t have pushed things. I get it if you’re not into me in that way or you don’t see us doing that,” my voice peters out, my gaze dropping to the ground in embarrassment. I should never have assumed he wanted things to get physical, maybe he just wants to be friends after all.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Harry exhales. I lift my gaze, confused and searching his face for some form of explanation. “I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you,”.

I can feel my heart start to thump loudly against my chest, my entire body heating up with anxiety. A million possibilities are running through my head. What is he going to tell me? Is he seeing someone else? Was he never actually interested in me? Is he gay?

“I’m sorry I never told you this but I was just worried you’d hate me or see me differently, and things were always so good and easy between us and I never wanted to screw things up…” he pauses and collects himself, “I kind of… I used to fool around a lot. You know there were suddenly all the opportunities being thrown my way and all this attention and I didn’t exactly reject any of it. And it was good for a while, but then the excitement of it all kind of faded away and I started resenting the position I was in. It became purely physical and I was really selfish and wasn’t really treating anyone properly, including myself. I just felt like people only wanted me because of who I was in the world and not who I am without all the bright lights and the glamour. So, I made a bit of a deal with myself; vowing not to have sex until it actually meant something again. Until I found someone who makes my blood boil, makes me feel properly wanted,” at this point he reaches for my hands, tracing his thumbs over my knuckles, “Then there’s you, swanning into my life and making me feel like nobody ever has, and believe me, I definitely see you in that way. You drive me crazy. I don’t think you could understand how difficult it’s been for me to be around you so much and not just tear your clothes off,” he says with a smirk, a small smile of my own starting to form, “I just freaked out yesterday because I want to do things right with you. Give you all of me. But you deserved to know the truth. So, I’m sorry for yesterday, and for not telling you the truth earlier, please don’t hate me too much,”

I’m silent for a moment, processing everything he’s just told me, before a smirk breaks out across my lips. “I really drive you crazy?” I tease.

Harry laughs, relieved, “More than you’ll ever know,”.

I grin and pull him into me, hands immediately running up to caress his face. Our lips are feverish against one another, clearly both of us relieved at not having to restrain ourselves for any longer. My hands untangle themselves from the mess I didn’t know they’d gotten into in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, they travelling to the hem of his shirt and move to lift it when he pulls away from me.

“Harry, I swear to God if you’re about to blue ball me again,” I tease, only half joking.

“No,” Harry laughs gently before placing a hand on the side of my face, lightly rubbing the soft of his thumb against my cheekbone, “I really like you. I hope you know that. Like, I really like you,”

I nod in agreement, understanding by the way his eyes are boring into mine that he’s trying to tell me he loves me.

“You too,” I whisper, our foreheads resting together as we make a point not to rush this moment. “Now can you please fuck me?” I say, eliciting a light chuckle from Harry. He nods his head slightly against mine and reconnects our lips, softer this time, both of us knowing that neither of us are going anywhere in a hurry.

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winchest09 · 5 years

Text

Heatwave

Title: Heatwave

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Universe: AU

Word Count: 3711

Summary: A heatwave isn’t the only reason Dean Winchester is struggling to sleep. He ends up on your doorstep, and cooling down isn’t an option.

Rating: 18 +. NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Fingering, finger fucking, oral (female receiving), wall smut, kitchen smut, sweaty hot summer smut.

A/N: So this is my smutty entry for @negans-lucille-tblr‘s challenge!

The prompts i chose were: “man i ain’t ever seen an ass like hers” and “i don’t deserve you” these will be outlined in bold!

Also any mistakes are my own, please do not repost my work anywhere however reblogs are fine and welcome :) I’ll give you a virtual hug if you did reblog or comment, means the world <3 Main Masterlist

Let me know what you think!

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Dean was tossing and turning in his bed sheets, Kansas was currently being held by a heat wave that showed no signs of going away any time soon. Earlier on in the evening, the air conditioning unit in Dean’s room had decided to break, even though he did all he could to try and fix it, it was of no use. The parts were old and needed replacing, something he could only do in the morning. This left Dean hot, sweaty and incredibly frustrated. His frustration was not only being caused by the heat, it was also being caused by the thoughts of you writhing beneath him the day before. The way your body rubbed against his as he snaked his fingers into your panties, the way you nibbled his bottom lip as you tried so hard not to scream his name, you were in a public place after all.

His phone buzzed for the umpteenth time that night. Rolling over to his night stand, Dean sucked in his bottom lip, running his tongue over it as he opened the newly sent message. He groaned audibly, running a hand through his slightly sweat dampened hair before throwing the sheets off of his naked body. He couldn’t sleep, he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon so he may as well be productive with his time. He pulled on his pair of dark jeans, not bothering with underwear before throwing a grey t shirt over his body, grabbing his car keys from the top of his drawers. He padded down his stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible so he didn’t wake his little brother as he made his way to the hallway for his shoes.

“Dean?” The voice that sounded in the darkness made Dean jump out of his skin, one foot halfway in his boot. Turning around he saw his not so little brother standing in the archway that led into the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand.

“Oh…erm…hey Sammy,” Dean replied awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Sam creased his brow as he looked down to see his brother’s feet half in his boots.

“Dean it’s two in the morning, where are you going?” He questioned, arching a brow at Dean’s sheepish look, watching how his elder brother continued to rub at his neck when it suddenly clicked for Sam. “Wait…you’re going to Y/N’s aren’t you?” He asked incredulously. Dean just rubbed his forehead as he stood straighter, letting out a sigh as he did so.

“I can’t get her out of my head Sam. I can’t sleep, this damn heat wave is killing me, the AC unit has broken in my room and all I can think about is seeing her again,” he admitted, his hands out wide from his sides, a smirk adorning his lips, “man I ain’t ever seen an ass like hers.” Sam just shook his head as a tiny laugh escaped him, his brother was unbelievable.

“So what, you’re just gonna show up to her door unannounced in the middle of the night?” Sam asked, walking around Dean to get to the solid wood staircase, ready to take himself back up to bed. The elder brother just shook his head, his smirk still on his lips as he looked to down at his shoes, slipping them further on his feet.

“On no, she’s knows I’m on my way…she’s been texting me all night. Sinful, sinful things Sammy,” Dean divulged, winking at his little brother. “Don’t wait up!” Dean pointed at his brother as he made his way out of the front door, Sam just waving him off with a roll of his eyes.

Dean made his way to his beloved impala which was parked out front, the night air thick and sticky. As he walked out of his yard, his thoughts were on you and the messages you had been sending him. He could feel himself hardening as he walked, the last text you sent burning in his mind, the picture of you in nothing but your underwear. As he slid into the drivers’ seat, he pulled his phone out and looked at the photo once more, a slightly audible groan escaping his plump lips as he studied it. You were wearing a lace maroon coloured bra with matching panties, you were lying back on your bed, sheets tangled around your legs with your hand resting just above your chest. To Dean, you looked delectable and the message that accompanied your picture cemented his decision to race over to you.

I. Need. You.

Placing baby in drive, he sped off in the direction of you. Not one for keeping to speed limits, Dean knew he’d be at your front door in less than ten minutes, if he really pushed and the lights were in his favour, maybe even less. With one hand on the leather of the steering wheel, his other hand was free to palm at his erection through his jeans. He was desperate for another taste of you, desperate for another taste of your lips; desperate for another taste of your sweet pussy.

He couldn’t believe his luck when he saw you again just over a week ago. He felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs, like he had been punched in the gut when he saw you walk elegantly across the marbled floor in your navy floor length dress. You looked just as beautiful as the day he stupidly left town to continue his family business, to take over from his father and become the CEO of Winchesters Inc. Dean didn’t know it then, but the moment he saw you wave goodbye in his rear view mirror would be the last time he saw your face, until now. You both tried the long distance relationship thing but Dean was young, reckless and the temptation of women closer to him became hard to resist. Within a couple of months, after a couple of arguments, you decided to call time on your relationship.

However, no matter how hard Dean tried, no matter how many women he slept with; not one compared to you. They didn’t feel the same underneath him, his name didn’t sound right coming from their lips in moans, nothing could compare to the feeling of being balls deep inside you. He missed you, but he knew his ship had sailed. Or so he thought. Fast forward four years and here he was, racing with a painfully hard cock to your front door. The charity function that a local art gallery had arranged was the last place he thought he’d see you again but there you were, mingling with the locals, looking even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

It didn’t take long to fall back into natural habits with each other, Dean tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear as he asked what you’d been up to and you biting at your lower lip as you looked up into his moss coloured eyes to answer his questions. It felt like you’d never been apart, like you hadn’t lost those four years so it was no surprise to either of you three hours later when Dean slammed you up against the wall of the arts office, bunching your dress up above your hips before running his long fingers through your soaked folds. He then dropped to his knees and lapped you up like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit, his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy as you clung to his head for balance. That night you had the best orgasms of your life and you both rekindled what you had lost.

After exchanging numbers once again, neither of you went a day without texting nor calling. Dean had you back and he would be damned if he lost you again. He pulled up outside of your home, all of your lights were off and the clock read 2.13am. He had made it to yours in just under ten minutes, his cock still hard in his jeans, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you. He swung open the impala door, the hinges squeaking slightly before shutting it behind him. He half jogged across your yard, running a shaky hand through his hair before gently knocking on the front door. He waited with baited breath, the last time he saw you was a week ago; your schedules not allowing either of you any time to be together. After a couple of seconds, he heard the lock being undone and the door opened, revealing you on the other side wrapped in a bed sheet. His cock twitched at the sight and he let out the long breath he was holding.

You smiled at him coyly, opening your door wider before walking back a little bit. Your hands wrapped around your sheet as you slowly unwrapped yourself from the cotton, letting it pool at your feet to reveal you standing there in nothing but heels and your maroon underwear. You’d been waiting for him and Dean licked at his bottom lip at the sight of you. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.

“Damn sweetheart,” he husked, as he walked into your home, shutting the front door with his foot, “I don’t deserve you.”

He didn’t give you time to respond as he had taken the two strides to get to you in no time at all, wrapping his large hands around your hips as he pulled you into him. Your breasts were pressed tight against his chest, your arms instinctively going around his neck as he captured your lips in a crushing kiss. His tongue running along your bottom lip, begging for entry to which you granted. His hands didn’t stay on your hips for long, after a gentle squeeze, he slid one hand into your hair whilst the other slipped under the waistband of your panties. You moaned softly into his kisses at the feeling of his fingertips gracing your skin, goose bumps erupting over your body at his touch. His nose nudged yours as he moved his head to change the angle of his kiss, pulling you impossibly closer to him before teasing his fingers lower into your underwear, his fingers now dipping into your folds. He groaned loudly when his fingers became coated in your juices, when he realised how wet you were and that it was all for him.

Dean’s cock was straining against his jeans and you could feel it hard on your hip as he pressed himself against you, his hand still in your panties as he started to stroke your tiny bundle of nerves with his thumb. His fingers were teasing the entrance to your pussy and you whimpered against him, feeling how you were coating his fingers with your fresh slick. Dean started to walk you backwards, his mouth still on yours, grumbling against your lips. You felt the coolness of the wall collide with your skin as Dean pressed you into the it. The events from the week before flooding your mind, the way his lips felt wrapped around your clit, his tongue snaking its way through your folds; the thought alone made you quiver. Your hands gripped at Dean’s biceps to steady yourself, your nails leaving crescent marks in his skin as Deans fingers slid into you until they were knuckle deep. You gasped, breaking contact with Dean’s lips as you let a wave of euphoria wash over you. Dean wasted no time, his lips were attacking your skin, nipping and kitten licking your neck. He started to pump his fingers in and out of you in a fast rhythmic motion, the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit as he finger fucked your soaked pussy.

Dean was relentless in his attack on you, he craved your whimpers, he needed your moans and he yearned to have his cock buried to the hilt inside of you. He continued to curl his fingers inside of you, his palm rubbing at your sensitive nub as his lips trailed down your neck to your breasts. With his free hand, he pulled the cups of your bra down, taking one of your nipples immediately into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the bud, his fingers were fucking you incessantly and the coil in your stomach was tightening. Your grip was very much still on the tops of his arms, nothing but pornographic noises were leaving your mouth as your knees started to quiver.

“Oh god…De…Dean,” you stuttered, your eyes screwed closed due to your impending orgasm. Dean just growled against your skin, the smell of your perfume mixed with the musk of your sex was a scent that he could happily drown in.

“That’s it Y/N, let go baby,” he husked, his mouth placing hot kisses against your breasts before he moved back up to the other side of your neck.

With a flick of his fingers and the friction from his palm, you came undone. His one arm was now wrapped around your waist to stop you from falling as he felt your pussy pulse around him. You coated his hand in fresh slick before he pulled his hand out of your panties slowly, bringing his fingers to his lips. You watched how he sucked off everything you had given him and you couldn’t wait for him any longer. You needed to take control. Tiny beads of sweat rolled down your chest, the heat of the night starting to affect you as well as Dean. Your breasts were heaving and you noticed how Dean was watching them intently as you sucked in your bottom lip. Pushing back on him slightly, you ran your palm across his clothed hardened cock and you smirked when he hissed. You were impatient. You grabbed at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head to discard it behind him before placing your lips on his neck, sucking at his pulse point.

Dean growled at your bold movements, his hands coming to your thighs, his fingers leaving indents in your skin as he focused on the feeling of your soft lips. You kissed up to his ear, before working down his jawline, relishing in the way his stubble was leaving a pleasurable burn on your lips. He captured your lips once again in his as he roughly picked you up from the floor, you instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. You licked at his bottom lip before biting down on it gently, causing the Winchester to moan against you. You felt a gentle breeze as he carried you the short distance to your kitchen, placing you down on the cool granite of the island that was situated in the middle of the room.

As his lips massaged your own, his hands made light work of the clasp of your bra and he chucked it behind him, your undergarment landing in the sink. His hands ghosted over your skin, sliding from your sides down to your hips before one large hand placed itself over your abdomen, pushing you down gently, encouraging you lay flat on your back. You did as you were told, your hair splaying out beneath you as you looked up to see dark green lust filled eyes staring back at you. His toned chest was heaving with each breath he took. He took one leg in his arms, kissing from your ankle all the way to behind your knee, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he ghosted his lips over your ruined panties. Dean smirked as he saw how your arousal had soaked through the silk, sucking on the spot before trailing his kisses down your opposite thigh. Dean hooked your legs over his shoulders, bringing both of his large hands to your panties, a devilish smirk on his lips as he ripped the material clean off.

“I hope you weren’t fond of those, sweetheart,” Dean growled, the sight of your bare pussy glistening in the moonlight making him lick his bottom lip. His action had made you gasp slightly as you tried your hardest to rub your thighs together to gain a bit of friction but his strong hands were holding your legs apart.

“Nuh uh,” you mewled, desperate for him to make his move. You didn’t have to wait long, the sight of your slick covered pussy caused Dean to go at you like a man starved. His fingers of one hand parted your folds as he licked a long strip from the entrance of your sex to your clit. You heard him groan with pleasure as he tasted you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. Your hands clawed at his short brown hair as you moaned, Dean was relentless. He had no particular method, no particular pattern, his tongue was just working you the way that Dean had always worked you. The coil in your stomach was tightening once more, the way he looked up at your writhing body as he flicked his tongue over your sex was enough to finish you off. You arched your back against the cool granite, something that was welcomed as your skin was clammy. The thick heat that was filling the night air doing nothing to cool you as you recovered from your second orgasm of the night.

Dean grinned, running his tongue slowly over his top lip as he placed wet kisses over your abdomen, your slick glistening over his mouth. You whimpered, you were sensitive and desperate for him to fill you. You needed him to fill you. Not willing to wait any longer, you moved your legs from his shoulders and pushed him backwards, your hand sliding straight away into his jeans. You were not surprised to find him not wearing any underwear, the fact he was commando turned you on, it had always turned you on. Dean’s lips were attacking your neck once more as you placed desperate kisses against his chest, working the button and zip of his jeans. You pushed them eagerly down his legs, his hard cock springing free and you groaned at the sight of him. He was long, thick and precum was seeping from his tip. Dean was painfully hard and he hissed when your hand wrapped around him. You started to pump his cock, massaging his balls in your other hand as Dean’s lips made their way back to your mouth. His kisses were breathless, his eyes were tight with pleasure from your touch but he couldn’t take any more of your hand. Your pussy was begging for him and he needed you, now.

Dean broke free from your lips once more as he pushed you back flat against the granite surface, your breasts heaving with each breath you took. Dean raised both of your ankles to his chest, your heels providing temporary cool relief against his burning skin as he separated them, placing one either side of his head. He looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust as you felt his cock nudge at your entrance, one large hand flat on your stomach to hold you in place. He coated his cock in your slick a few times, rubbing it through your soaked folds before he slowly entered you. You gasped, throwing your head back at the pleasurable burn Dean’s cock gave you as you accommodated him.

“Fuck Y/N!” Dean groaned when he was fill to the hilt inside you, your pussy squeezing around him, “you’re so tight.” You looked back up at Dean, your ankles either side of his head, his hands on your hips as you tried to move.

“Move, De,” you mewled, “fuck me,” you begged breathlessly. Dean didn’t need to be asked twice, his grip on your hips was tight as he fucked you hard and relentless on the counter top. Your breasts were bouncing with each of his thrusts, the sound of your slick and Dean’s balls slapping against your ass echoing around the kitchen. You moaned, you panted and you were desperately trying to grab onto something.

Dean threw his head back as he felt your pussy tighten around him, this angle was definitely one of his favourites, he felt like he was going deeper with each thrust. He growled as you clenched around him once again, the movement encouraging him to pound into you harder, his hands bringing your pussy down onto his cock with force. You felt that familiar tightening once again, your coil wanting to snap at any moment. Dean recognised the look on your face, he knew when you were close. You screwed your brow slightly, your lips parted just a little, your eyes were half lidded. He brought one hand from your hip to your clit and he began to rub in little circles as he fucked you hard. He felt his balls tighten, he wasn’t far off from cumming himself.

Your legs were the first to tighten, your toes curled into your heels, your hands were trying to grasp at anything they could as an explosion of euphoria overwhelmed you. You were repeating Dean’s name like a mantra as your pussy pulsed around him, wanting to milk him for everything he had. This is what Dean had been craving, this is what he needed; you. He came undone at hearing his name fall from your lips in plea, at feeling your pussy tighten against his cock. He gave you everything he had, releasing hot ropes of cum inside of you, filling you entirely.

Dean fell slightly on top of you, using one hand to hold himself off you as beads of sweat trickled down his toned chest. Your weak legs fell from his body, dangling off the edge of the counter as you came down from your third high. Dean placed loving kisses against your body as his cock started to soften inside of you, his seed dripping from your entrance. In this moment, he didn’t care about the heat wave or the four years he had lost with you. You were his oasis in a desert, and he was never going to give you up.

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A/N: I hate how tumblrs removed the page break. Anyway...I hope you’ve enjoyed this little one shot! Let me know your thoughts HERE! :)

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