#warm sidewalk … sounds so good …

[lust-lizard]

day dreaming doing an AMA and i can get a buncha words out of my head but i cant do that so i just start napping on pavement instead yawnnn

#we need to invent slightly cozier sidewalks #warm sidewalk … sounds so good …

[wintaerbaer]

bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts fanfic

[rynwritesreid]

I like the way you kiss me| Spencer Reid

A/N: So, I haven’t written smut in a good while, but I hope this okay. It’s defo romantic, but I promise soon there will be some good angst.

Summary: Spencer is nervous about being in a relationship with you, because of what his friends would think and the age gap you two had. But when it comes down to it, all that matters to him, is you.

Content: Smut 18+. Fluff. Fem!reader. Use of nicknames (just princess). oral(R!receiving). PinV.

Masterlist| request are open| navigation

Spencer Reid knew dating you was playing with fire. You were younger, and you had never been in a serious relationship. Spencer knew if his friends found out about the two of you, he would never hear the end of it. But when he was with you, he didn’t care, all he could think about was you. 

He couldn't resist the way your eyes lit up when you talked about anything you loved, or how your pupils dilated when you were looking at him, or how you laughed when he told any joke.  He was infatuated with you, although he knew he should never have got attached to you.

But despite the risks, Spencer couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you. As he watched you across the table, he couldn't help but smile at the way you crinkled your nose when you were deep in thought. Your passion for life was infectious, and he found himself getting lost in the sparkle of your eyes.

Maybe he loved you, or maybe he loved the idea of you, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed been around someone who saw life as colourful and bright, rather than how he saw it and how the majority of everyone he knew saw it. 

But if Spencer was to ever admit what he truly liked about you, he enjoyed the way you kissed him. How every kiss you gave him was memorable. He could tell with every kiss you missed him when he wasn’t around, you cared about him and that he was the last person you thought about as you drifted asleep.

As the night grew late and the restaurant began to empty, Spencer realised he couldn't keep pretending that what they had was just a casual fling. He needed to admit to himself that he was falling for you, hard and fast. The way your hand felt in his, the sound of your laughter filling his ears, it was all too much to ignore.

"I can't keep pretending that you don't mean everything to me," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You make life worth living. Whenever I see your name flash across my screen, or every time I remember your face, I want to kiss you.”

“Spencer Reid as romantic, who could have imagined.” You chuckled, you felt the same way, but you could never put it into such words. “I feel the same way. I want to be yours.” 

“You’ll always be mine. You are perfect for me, and I am, well perfect for you.” Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your lips, feeling the weight of his confession lifting off his shoulders. In that moment, surrounded by the fading chatter of the restaurant and the gentle glow of the streetlights outside, Spencer knew that he had found something rare and precious with you. As your fingers intertwined with his, he couldn't help but smile, a genuine, unguarded expression of happiness spreading across his face.

*

Spencer flagged down a taxi, he couldn’t wait to get you home. The taxi pulled up to the curb, and Spencer held the door open for you, a small smile playing on his lips. The city lights glimmered in your eyes as you settled into the backseat, his hand finding yours instinctively. The ride home was filled with comfortable silence, the air crackling with unspoken words and promises.

Once the taxi had arrived outside his apartment, he leaped out and open the door for you. “A real gentleman you’ve got there.” The taxi driver smiled, giving you a knowing look as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. Spencer chuckled softly, a hint of colour rising to his cheeks at the driver's comment. Escorting you up to his apartment, he couldn't shake the feeling of contentment that settled over him like a warm blanket.

Once you were in the comfort of his apartment, he grabbed your face and pulled it closer to his. He gazed into your eyes, seeing a reflection of his own desires and emotions staring back at him. Without uttering a single word, he closed the distance between your lips, kissing you with a fervour that spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings for you. In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered to Spencer except for the connection he shared with you.

As the kiss deepened, a wave of passion and longing swept over the both of you, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and desire. Spencer's hands moved gently to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly as if to reassure himself that you were real and not just a figment of his imagination.

Maybe it was out of instinct, but Spencer moved his hands down the back of your dress and felt the smooth fabric beneath his fingertips. His fingers found the top of the zipper and he slowly started pulling down, while his mouth found its way to your neck.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. “You are beyond beautiful.” Spencer gently whispered against your skin; his breath warm against your neck.

Spencer's fingers traced a delicate path along your spine as he slowly lowered the zipper of your dress, his touch felt like feathers dancing along your skin. Every nerve in your body felt alive and electrified under his gentle caress, and you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

His lips found yours once more, the kiss deep and hungry, filled with a raw intensity that threatened to consume you both. Lost in the heady rush of desire, you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as if trying to fuse your very souls together.

Spencer was never the kind of man to hurry into get you naked, he liked taking it slowly, savouring every moment and committing it to memory. His hands moved with purpose, but also with a tenderness that spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings for you. As the dress slipped off your shoulders and pooled at your feet, Spencer's eyes roamed over your exposed skin, drinking in every curve and contour as if committing them to memory.

“I don’t how I ever got so lucky.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes filled with a mixture of adoration and desire. Spencer guided you towards the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. In the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, tonight felt more romantic, more intimate.

Spencer gently laid you on his bed, his gaze never wavering from yours. The room was imbued with a sense of intimacy and affection, as if every object bore witness to the love shared between you and Spencer. His fingers traced delicate patterns across your skin.

Though Spencer was still fully clothed, you didn’t feel vulnerable, you felt loved and adored. You felt as if Spencer was your biggest fan. But Spencer, been the gentleman he is, wasn’t going to allow you to be the only one naked. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, revealing the expanse of his chest as he shed the fabric, every movement deliberate and filled with a silent promise.

As his shirt fell to the floor, Spencer lowered himself onto the bed beside you, his body radiating heat and a quiet intensity. His mouth left a trail of kissed down your body, igniting a trail of fire along your skin as he worshipped every inch of you with his lips and tongue. Each touch was a testament to his adoration, a silent vow of devotion that echoed through the room.

His lips started moving down your body, his lips finding your nipples and gently sucking them, his tongue flicking over them. But they weren’t the centre of his focus, because if Spencer was one thing, he was giving. He loved hearing you moan for him, how you complete surrendered yourself to him. He enjoyed knowing he had ruined anyone else for you, because he knew you the best, he knew what made you squirm. He wasn’t usually the type of man who wanted to ‘own’ something, but you were different. He had always wanted you for himself, even if at the start he was nervous.

His hands moved lower, caressing your hips, your thighs, his fingers dipping into you, the warmth of your body accepting him wholeheartedly. He felt you tremble under his touch, your body responding to his every move, and he felt a surge of power and desire within him.

Your breathing quickened, every gasp and moan a testament to the pleasure that was building within you. Spencer's eyes met yours, the fire in your eyes mirrored in his own. He knew then that this was more than just a physical connection, it was a soul-deep bond that took his breath away.

He paused, the tip of his finger hovering over your sensitive spot, teasing you. You knew what you wanted, and you could tell that Spencer knew it too. He smiled, a warm and genuine smile that made your heart flutter.

"Please," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Please, what princess?” Spencer teasingly asked, stroking your inner thigh with his fingers.

You swallowed hard; your desperation clear in your eyes.

“Use your words.” He insisted, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I need you,” you whispered hoarsely, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

His lips were soon on your clit, his tongue plunging inside you, tasting you, exploring you. Your body arched beneath him, a silent plea for him to keep going, to never stop. And he obliged, his tongue darting in and out of you, his fingers working in perfect rhythm, driving you higher and higher until you finally shattered apart underneath him. You came with a cry, your body convulsing beneath his, and he felt the wave of your release wash over him, taking him to a place of pure ecstasy.

As your body relaxed, he pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours, his face a picture of pure satisfaction. He moved up beside you, his hands steadily exploring your body, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

But Spencer was far from done. He knew exactly what you needed; he could read your body like an open book.

Spencer slowly slid inside you, feeling the walls of your body cling to him like a force of nature. He moved slowly at first, savouring every moment of the connection that flowed between them. Your body arched towards him, eager to feel him deep inside, seeking the completion of a desire that had been building for so long.

As he thrust deeper, Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of the moment making your heart race and your breath quicken. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your body craving the warmth and connection.

He picked up the pace, each stroke more fervent than the last, the sounds of your breath and his groans filling the room. The air was thick with desire and the scent of your arousal, heightening the passion between you.

Your hips met his with each thrust, matching his rhythm and pulling him deeper into you. Every movement felt more intense, every touch more electric. In that moment, you and Spencer became one, moving as one, feeling as one.

Your fingers dug into his back, pulling him closer, every sensation heightening, every touch becoming more intense. Spencer's breathing was ragged, mirroring yours. The room was alive with the sound of your bodies moving in a primal dance, lost in each other's eyes.

Your breathing became higher pitched, signalling your orgasm was coming. You arched your back, your head falling back as you screamed his name. Spencer felt the walls of your pussy clenching tighter around him, and he knew that he was going to cum too.

He thrust harder, feeling the heat of your body engulfing him, taking him over the edge. His orgasm was explosive, shooting wave after wave of pleasure through his body. He held you close, his lips pressed against your neck, his breath still ragged with desire.

Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest heaving, his face flushed with exertion and desire. You lay there, breathing heavily, your bodies still connected. Spencer gently stroked your hair, his expression filled with love and affection. "You are my everything," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “And I can’t wait to tell the world about you.”

~join my taglist~

~taglist~

@iluvreid @nomajdetective @drspencieee@katieeeee314@evvy96 @oliviah-25 @starkid024 @emalynvtgtgfhvgg @krokietino @xohoneybun @spencerreidwifeee@purplepistachi0 @pleasantwitchgarden @bitchassbecky691 @piperb400@queermaxwooo @gemofthenight @luvpiercethekaty@anna-belle-xd@catsareawesomek@drreidsfavwhxre@oureternalbond@beth-gallagher22 @keiva1000 @k3nzxx@lookingforgodintheclouds @firstunmannedflyingdeskset @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @r-3dlips @keiva1000 @peppersapro @just-a-harmless-patato @spenxerslut @skulliecadaver-blog@svnfully@reidsgirlhottie@amethysssssst@bluepuppethidinginafilingcabinet@lover-of-books-and-tea @Indigosamsblog@jem08 @ladylincoln @khxna @Kimm4710@Karenfranco

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

[dreamescapeswriting]

Contracted Love ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 7.1K

GENRE: CEO AU, marriage contracts, blackmailing, fake dating, fake marriage, falling love and realising you’re scared, (might actually be my fav piece)

PAIRING: Yoongi X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

As Yoongi began to walk through the bustling heart of the city he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back from the meeting he had just left and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what had happened.

It had been his grandfather's will reading, something that heartbreaking in and of itself but what was getting to Yoongi more was the stipulation that came along with his portion of the will. 

"It is not my wish for you to end up like me, old, alone and afraid of love."

Was that the piece of paper read, his grandfather was giving him strict orders to follow if he had any chance of getting his grandfather's portion of the company he owned and he needed it.

There was no way it could go to his father's side of the family, the vultures as his grandfather called them. They only hung around him long enough to know that they were going to be put into the will and didn't want to know his grandfather any other time. But it was all stupid. In order to collect his portion he had to be married and have a child all within a year.

A man who had hardly dated before was supposed to married and have a child within twelve months if he wanted any chance of keeping his company alive. Now Yoongi could have sworn he heard the ticking of a clock in the back of his mind as a constant reminder that he hadn't got much time.

"Please, I promise I can get it for you by the end of the week if you just give me some more time!" A voice pleaded, interrupting his thoughts and making him freeze on the sidewalk wondering what was unfolding in front of him.

"I've heard this a million times, Yn, I'm sick of hearing it." A male said, angrily staring down at you as you whimpered a little. He was your landlord Richard and he had just served you with an eviction notice for your business.

"Pages & Aromoa's will be a hit in no time and you'll have all the money I owe you." You sniffled but Richard handed you the piece of red paper and walked away, ignoring your begging and driving off.

"Fucking cunt," You hissed before heading inside of the door.

Yoongi stared up at the cafe sign it was basically falling apart but it was easily readable. The brick walls of the cafe had patches of Ivy clinging to the surface as if trying to breathe life into the ageing structure. The windows were slightly grim but offered a glimpse into the warmth inside that awaited anyone walking by. 

The cafe was nestled between two giant skyscrapers, one of which belonged to Yoongi but he'd never even noticed the cafe before. Sighing to himself he wondered if this was the cafe his grandfather had been boasting about before he had died and he found himself walking inside. The bell above the door sounded as he did so but you were nowhere to be seen.

"I'll be just a minute," Your voice called out. Despite the outside appearance of the building, Yoongi was pleasantly surprised when he walked inside. The interior was a sanctuary of tranquillity and refinement. Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of vintage bulbs that were casting a warm ambience in the cafe. The perfect place to hide away and work or even read which was something that clearly happened here.

There were shelves lining the walls, stretched from floor to ceiling, the books all looked used and loved. Plush armchairs and cosy reading nooks were all over the place, offering a place for someone to lose themselves in the pages of a good book or work in silence. It was obvious why his grandfather had loved this place and had been talking about it for months.

"Stupid, machine." Yoongi heard you grumbling as you finally came up from behind a counter and smiled warmly in his direction. The smile that sent a warmth throughout his chest he suddenly felt guilty about having.

"What can I get you? And please, don't say coffee because the press is broken and the machine won't work," You pleaded with him, Yoongi's mouth opened to say something but he found himself unable to speak, struck by something he didn't understand. His chest was fluttering and his stomach was in knots, he didn't know what was happening. 

"Oh! Are you deaf? I know some sign language but I can write stuff down if it's easier." Before Yoongi had a chance to protest you were beginning to sign to him, something he didn't even understand himself but he was pretty sure you'd gotten it wrong.

"Can I get some tea?" He didn't know what was going on with his stomach but his grandfather always told him that tea solved most issues. Something warm to settle a raging stomach.

"Sure! I have a whole selction-" You were about to list off the extensive list you had when Yoongi shook his head,

"Early grey would be fine, with Milk."

"To go?" You arched a brow at him, most people that came in dressed the way he was got all of their orders to go. You knew the type he was, a businessman, too busy to learn the name of the place they were in but were loyal to it, it was nice.

"Erm," Yoongi glanced around and then down at his watch. He wasn't due back at work for another hour or so,

"I'll stay," He smiled at you and you nodded, pointing around the shop for him to sit anywhere he wanted. It wasn't like it was going to get busy anytime soon and your regular customer you'd had for a few months had suddenly stopped coming recently.

"Sure, make yourself comfortable." You gestured around the room and Yoongi stayed frozen in place,

"Don't you need my name for the order?" Yoongi countered you smirked a little at him.

"Because it'll get lost in the sea of customers?" You asked sarcastically, laughing nervously at the end,

"I guess that's true." He chuckles a little, and for the first time in a long time it feels like a genuine laugh from him, something he hadn't done for a long time

"He died?" Your voice was so sympathetic as soon as Yoongi told you about his grandfather, Rath, who had been your most loyal and regular customer. The two of you had been discussing your business for a while and you'd mentioned to Yoongi about having to close down soon if you weren't picking up in business.

"I wondered why he stopped coming by," You slowly sank down in the armchair opposite Yoongi and he smiled sadly down at the cup of tea in his hands. 

"Were you close to my grandfather?" You weren't close with the man but he'd been coming in every day it felt like you were friends.

"I wouldn't say close but we did talk a lot whenever he was here, he loved you." You smiled, Rath had spoken so much about Yoongi that you felt as though you knew him but he hadn't been at all what you were expecting. 

You'd expected some small, nerdy-looking guy but Yoongi was the opposite, he was built well, dressed in the finest of suits and looked as though he could be in the pages of magazines.

"I have a proposition for you." He suddenly said. Yoongi wasn't blind, he could see the business was going under and he knew you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Which is?" You laughed a little, looking up at the time and then back to Yoongi. The two of you had been sat talking for almost two hours now and still not a single other person had come in, which hadn't gone unnoticed by Yoongi, who was already concocting a plan in his mind.

"I need to get married." He said bluntly.

"And I need your help to do it." You held back the urge to laugh as you stared at him, you weren't sure what his grandfather had told him but you didn't know anyone in the market at the minute.

"Unfortunately I'm not sure I'm your girl, I can't help."

"But you can. You see, I have a lot of money and you need a lot of money." You knew that already, the Min family were richer than rich, one of the richest families in the world.

"What makes you think I NEED money?" You were trying to play it close to your chest, but it was true. You were desperate for money, your coffee machines were broken and you were behind on four months worth of rent.

"Yn, let's be real, your business is going under and I can help. I can keep you afloat or make you a huge success, whatever you want I can do that." As amazing as that sounded you still didn't know anyone that would be willing to just randomly get married to him,

"But I don't know anyone that wants to be married." You shook your head but Yoongi smirked at you,

"You can marry me," The words registered in your brain and you bit back the urge to laugh in his face.

"Are you insane?" You added a nervous laugh at the end and stood up, moving away from where he was sitting but he was quick to follow you.

"I have a lot of influence, I can easily make this place well known." He told you with a giant smile, your hands nervously tugged at the cleaning rag in your hand and you stared at him. 

"Just for marrying you?" 

"Just marrying me. All fake, no one would have to know we're not really together," Shit like this didn't happen in real life, only in books and really bad film adaptations, there had to be a catch. 

"What do you get out of this? Why do you need a wife so badly?" Was this something he did on a regular? Ask random women to marry him and then never follow through with all of his promises.

"If I get married, I can collect my grandfather's part of the company but I need a wife." He was going to ignore the child part until absolutely necessary, he was sure there was a way out of that.

"Why wouldn't he leave it to you?" You frowned, Rath had seemed so sure of Yoongi, you were positive he would have left his Grandson something. 

"He doesn't want me to end up alone," Yoongi admitted, your heart breaking a little as you remembered Rath mentioning he wished he'd never divorced Yoongi's grandmother,

"Oh."

"You'd get your business up and running, booming, I'd get half of the company away from my vultures of a family and everyone will be happy." You'd heard stories of the other side of Yoongi's family, stories from Rath and things you'd read about in the media.

"Okay...But there have to be some rules in place...A contract?"

"Agreed," Yoongi glanced down at his watch and bit his lip, he was already late for a meeting but that didn't matter.

"Come up to my office tonight, give your name to security and they'll bring you up. We'll work out a contract and hash out all of the details." He smiled warmly at you and you somehow believed him that all of this was going to work.

"My business will be fixed if I do this, right?"

"I promise." He breathed out before rushing out of the door, your heart racing at the thought of all of this becoming true. You glanced down at your outfit before cursing yourself, you were dressed in clothes with holes and your apron was torn to pieces.

"New outfit," You mumbled, heading to the door and locking it up. If you were going to go into business with Yoongi then you wanted to look the part. 

"Come in," Yoongi called as he heard a small tapping at his office door, the day had gone on for longer than he'd liked and he was looking forward to writing out the contract and heading home for the night. 

"Mr Min, Yn is here." His assistant announced before shutting the door, Yoongi slowly glanced up from his desk and his eyes almost popped out of his head.

He had been expecting you in the same scraps of clothes you had worn this morning but instead, you were dressed in a black pencil skirt and a red silk top that was unbuttoned to show just enough cleavage.

"Is this okay? It's the only thing I had left from my office days," You laughed nervously when you noticed him staring at you a little longer than he had done that morning.

"It's-It's erm, perfect." His voice stuttered and cracked as he stared at you. He had no idea that you could look this way and now he suddenly felt as though he was out of his depth. 

"Please sit," He gestured to the seat in front of his desk before grabbing two bottles of water and sitting back down. By now you'd gotten out a worn leather-bond book from your bag and smiled.

"Let's get straight to it," You said, your tone businesslike yet hidden with a little humour. Yoongi smiled to himself, preparing his own notepad.

"We need some rules in place, so nothing is blurred along the way." He stated simply.

"Your business will be my number one priority during all of this. We'll sit down with a bookkeeper and organise your bills as well as figure out anything that's owed." You suddenly felt your chest tighten, you were in a massive amount of debt. Yoongi had already gone into research mode when he got home and knew everything you needed to pay off.

"T-That might be a lot. Are you sure you're up for it?" You hated that you were in so much debt, when you'd ventured out alone to own your own place you'd been so sure it would be great you could pay it back in no time.

"No issue, I assure you, I didn't become the CEO Of Min Media but shying away from challenges." Your debt wouldn't even cause a dent in his savings but he wasn't going to tell you that and make you feel bad about it.

"That means a lot...Thank you," You smiled warmly, the smile sent his stomach into knots once again, he really wanted to see someone about that.

"We need to keep everything strictly professional." You finally stated, looking up from your notepad and back at Yoongi who was, once again, staring at you.

"Agreed." He jotted it down on the notepad.

"Secondly, we can't tell anyone it's not real. It's imperative to me we keep everything hidden. We keep up a genuine illusion to appease my family and the shareholders." He told you, if anyone found out this was all fake he'd most likely lose his shareholdings as well as be the laughingstock of the media world.

"Agreed." You wrote it down, and Yoongi eyed you up. You'd been quiet about your family finding out and it worried him a little. He didn't want you to go around telling anyone it was fake, it would only take one slip-up for the world to know.

"What about your family?"

"What about them?" You asked, staring up at him with a blank expression on your face, Yoongi frowned.

"You can't tell them the truth." He reminded you and you nodded, your lips in a line as you shrugged your shoulders a little.

"Not a problem, I haven't spoken to them in almost four years since I went out on my own to own a cafe."

"Understood. We must present as a united front," He stared at you. His heart felt heavy at the thought of your family ignoring you for following your dreams. 

"We will have to attend social events together, support each other publicly and appear as a happy married couple at all times." You nodded at him.

"I can handle that." It was no big deal, you'd get to dress fancy for a while and it would be fun,

"Living arrangements?" Yoongi wrote down and then stared at you,

"Well, I currently have a place in the lower part of Seoul, you're more than welcome to come and live with me," You teased only to be met with widened eyes.

"That was a joke Yoongi," You clarified with a small laugh,

"You can move in with me." He stated plainly, you frowned at him. As much as you hated your place you weren't sure moving in with him was the best idea.

"Is it necessary though?"

"Yn, once we're seen together you'll never get peace...People will want to know why a soon-to-be-married couple are living separately." You knew he was right, there would be too many questions and you didn't want to have to deal with them,

"Okay."

"I'll arrange a moving van for you tomorrow." He smiled, writing down on a sticky note to remind himself once the two of you were done.

"Can I suggest one more?"

"Sure." He looked up at you, expecting something about asking to be paid, or for more than you were getting out of it. All of which he was willing to do if it meant getting what he needed out of you.

"No falling in love. It's a business arrangement and any romantic feelings that may develop should be ignored." Yoongi was taken back but nodded his head at you. 

"Of course. We have a deal." He smiled shaking your hand across the table.

With a sense of determination, you added a final clause to your contract: Yoongi would take over the financial management of Pages & Aromas, ensuring its stability and prosperity while also shouldering the burden of its debts.

"We will be announcing our marriage this weekend, it'll be held here. In the meantime, I'll pay your rent for the cafe," He stated as you both signed along the pieces of paper, Yoongi took them both into his grasp and filed them in his drawer his eyes lingering over the clause about not falling in love.

"I'd like it if you didn't work for a few months if that's okay?" He suggested, staring at you as you frowned.

"We can fix up the shop a little, have it redone to your specifications and then announce it as a grand opening." 

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You can do whatever you want, money is no issue."

"It is for me."

"We'll be married, what's mine...is yours," He stated before laying down a black card in front of you.

"Yoongi, it's already enough you're helping my business I can't take your money too." The statement was shocking, everyone Yoongi knew was always after his money, it was why he'd never dated in the past.

"Fine. But please keep it, you can use it as an emergency card, or if you need an outfit for an event...it's yours," He told you as you flipped the card over, already finding your name inscribed on it, had he been so sure about all of it since this morning?

"Okay. Fine."

"I'll have Alan drive you home and I'll see you tomorrow at my place." He smiled warmly at you as you got up from the chair, feeling a little overwhelmed with everything but nodding your head.

With a sense of nervousness mingled with excitement, you stepped into Yoongi's luxurious penthouse apartment. Your final box had been taken up by a group of men and you were unsure of what you were supposed to do now. You walked through the door, slipping off your shoes before your eyes widened at the opulence that surrounded you. The spacious living area was adorned with sleek modern furniture and tasteful artwork while floor-to-ceiling windows offered sweeping views of the city skyline below. You could practically see all of Seoul from up here, how did he get anything done? You knew you'd find yourself people-watching more than you should.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you set about unpacking your belongings, your mind racing with thoughts of the new chapter that lay ahead. As you sorted through boxes and arranged your stuff in their designated places, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place in such a lavish environment.

"Mr Min will be late this evening, he said to make yourself at home," Alan, who had driven you home the night previous, said with a warm smile on his face. But how were you supposed to do that? You didn't know what you were and weren't allowed to do or even where to go. Did he have rooms off-limits to you? More questions flooded your mind but as the afternoon waned into evening, you found solace in the familiar routine of preparing dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of food cooking on the stove grounding you in the present moment.

You'd always loved cooking, you were hungry and determined to make a good impression on Yoongi. Even going as far as to make your famous cake no one could say no to it.

By the time Yoongi arrived home, the apartment was filled with the tantalizing scent of home-cooked food and freshly baked treats. Stepping through the door, he was greeted by the sight of you bustling about the kitchen, a warm smile gracing your lips.

"Welcome home," You said, your voice infused with genuine warmth, something Yoongi hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in years. His eyes lit up with surprise and appreciation as he took in the scene before him. 

"You've been busy," he remarked, a note of amusement in his voice as he watched you carefully. You shrugged modestly, a warm feeling spreading onto your cheeks. 

"I wanted to do something nice for you. Dinner will be ready soon, and I made cake." Yoongi's smile widened as he crossed the room to envelop you in a grateful hug.

"Thank you, Yn. You didn't have to do all this." You were in shock at the hug at first, your heart thumping as you tried not to overthink it. He was just grateful for the food. You smiled a little, returning the embrace, a sense of contentment settling over you. 

"I know. But I wanted to." You admit before going to set everything down on the table ready to eat. 

It had been almost a week since the news had broke that you and Yoongi were going to be married and he'd been right. People followed you EVERYWHERE. You'd gone grocery shopping two nights after the news was released and you'd been followed by men with cameras, all of them screaming questions at you. Luckily you and Yoongi had already come up with a story for you both, something easy to remember. You'd met because of his grandfather and it had almost been love at first sight. 

Tonight though you were at a restaurant together, your hands linked on the table as you stared lovingly at one another. All of it feels a little too real for you. 

"Tell me something about you that I wouldn't find in a magazine or news article." You begged Yoongi. Since moving in with him you'd done extensive research on him, wanting to be prepared in case any of his crazy family members tried to doubt the two of you. 

Yoongi stared at you, hesitating for a moment as he thought about it. He was torn between the desire to open up to you and betraying your agreement but the look in your eyes made it hard to resist. 

"Well, I've always loved astronomy," He confessed, his eye staring down at the glass feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"There's something about the vastness of the universe that puts everything into perspective." Your eyes lit up with interest, finally, something about him that wasn't run-of-the-mill CEO shit.

"That's beautiful," You whispered, 

"I've always been drawn to the stars as well." You admit, the two of you getting lost in conversation and completely forgetting about the many people snapping photos of you together. Yoongi let himself open up to you more, finding himself falling in a freefall for you. His head reminded him of the agreement you'd made together, no falling in love and he couldn't risk jeopardizing everything. 

"Why haven't you spoken to your family?" He suddenly found himself asking over dessert, your fork freezing midway to your mouth as your throat suddenly ran dry.

"They decided they didn't want me to ruin their family name,"

"But you were following your dreams, shouldn't that be something they were proud of you for doing?" He didn't understand how someone couldn't support the person they loved in everything that they did. 

"The Score family don't follow dreams, they crush them," Your voice was flat and dry as you placed your fork down.

"Score? As in-"

"Lawyers, the best in the business." You hissed out, you hated that all of this was being bought up but you owed it to Yoongi to tell him the truth.

"I don't speak to them, biologically I'm their daughter but legally I'm not."

"You were emancipated?" He watched you closely and you nodded your head,

"As soon as I left the company I did it myself," You admit with a smile on your face, you were proud of what you'd done. Being a lawyer had never been your dream and if the people that had raised you had it their way you'd still be another cog in the inner workings of their awful company.

"Believe me Yoongi, they have nothing to do with me-" His hand was on top of yours, rubbing over your skin in a soothing motion.

"It wouldn't bother me if they were still in your life." He promises, a weight being lifted from your chest as you let out a happy sigh.

The two of you continued to talk all night long, discovering things each other you hadn't known before and it was starting to feel like a true friendship was forming.

Months began to fly by as you and Yoongi worked on your fake relationship and countless parties you attended together, business and personal, but tonight was the one you were most nervous about. You were pacing around in the living room of the apartment waiting for Yoongi to come down and meet you. Your hands nervously played with the purse you were holding, the prospect of meeting his family tonight looming over your head like a dark cloud. 

The door to the living room opened and Yoongi stepped inside, freezing when he saw you pacing around but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were in a stunning floor-length gown, crimson colour to match his tie but it clung to your body perfectly, seeing you turned his blood to fire. You paced away from him giving him the perfect view of the back of the gown, which had a crisscrossing strap at the back, the fabric shimmering and glowing with every step you took.

"I don't know if I can do this." You admit to Yoongi once you notice him there. You'd been faking it with everyone and everyone believed you so far but were his family going to be so easy to convince?

"Your family...they're going to see right through me." Your voice trembled with uncertainty and Yoongi smiled weakly walking over to you. He was nervous himself but he wasn't going to admit it to you.

"Yn, you're stronger than you think." He told you, his hand gently reaching out and rubbing your arm.

"We'll get through tonight, together." He had no doubt the two of you could convince his family you were together, to be honest, he had a hard time convincing himself it wasn't real. 

"What if they ask about our relationship and I cock the story up? What if they see through me?" He smiled down at you, running his hand over your cheek.

"We'll handle it, Yn. I won't let anything happen to you," And he meant it, if anything were to ever happen to you he knew he'd never survive it. 

After months of spending every second by your side, he felt himself falling harder and harder in love with you until the point where everything was blurred except for you. All he cared about was a future with you. His words were like a lifeline pulling you back from the edge of panic, you took in a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on everything again. 

"And if they don't believe us? What happens to me?" You asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"I'll make sure your business is taken care of, I'll not let anything happen to you but for now, let's focus on getting through tonight together." He whispers, kissing your hand softly as you feel a spark running through your veins. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that as long as you faced them together, you could conquer anything that stood in your way. And with that realization, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

As the two of you made your way through the entrance, all eyes turned to greet you, your presence as a couple commanding attention amidst the sea of glamorous attendees. 

"They're staring." You uttered to Yoongi as he smirked, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked together, your steps synchronized in harmony. Heads turned, smiles were exchanged and greetings were offered as you passed by people. 

"How could they not? You look like you stepped out of a magazine, you look beautiful." It wasn't the first compliment that Yoongi had ever paid you, in fact, you'd grown used to the compliments he'd give to you all the time. Including the small hugs and kisses the two of you would share even if you were in public, it was clear lines were starting to blur but you weren't entirely sure you minded anymore.

"Look, it's Min Yoongi and his fiancée," Someone whispered, their voice tinged with awe. 

"They're a stunning couple." Her date said back to her, their eyes trailing over you both as you moved through the crowd. 

"Let's give them something to talk about," Yoongi whispered but before you had a chance to ask what he was talking about he was taking you over to the dance floor. 

His hand rested gently on your waist, guiding you with a tender pull as you began to move around the dance floor together, the rest of the world fading into the background. 

Your movements were slow and deliberate, each steps a silent conversation between you as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. Your heart raced with every beat, your breath catching in your throat as you allowed yourself to be swept up by the magic of the moment.

"You look beautiful," Yoongi whispered, your eyes locking as you stared at one another.

"You said that already," You mumbled nervously as he smirked to himself, moving in time with you as you fell back into a comfortable silence. Not a single word needed to be uttered as you knew what was happening to you, you were falling in love with him too fast and everything was falling apart around you. You continued to dance together, neither of you daring to speak the words that lingered in the back of your head. Knowing that acknowledging your love would shatter the delicate illusion you'd worked so hard to maintain.

"So this is the lovely Yn." You turned your head to face Juliain, Yoongi's father and Yoongi wrapped his arm tighter around your waist.

"Lovely dance the two of you did, your mother made me dance shortly after." He chuckles softly but Yoongi remains deadpan and unreadable, his grip on you tightening. You'd heard about Julilan from both Rath and Yoongi and you knew the man was bad news, a slimeball only after money.

"Julilan. Lovely to see you, shame you didn't make it to grandfather's funeral, it was a lovely service." Yoongi said coldly, your eyes staring up at him. Julian had refused to go to the funeral but had gone to the reading of the will, only to see what he was entitled to. 

"I have no doubt, you always knew how to throw a party." Julian laughed but your heart shattered, Rath had been an amazing man and to insinuate that a party was held for his dying instead of a grand funeral boiled your blood.

"Party? A man died-"

"Hush. You don't speak unless spoken to." Julian said in a dismissive tone, your mouth dropping open as you couldn't believe the man in front of you. 

"With all due respect, sir, I am not a decoration on Yoongi's arm I am his Fiancée," You spoke clearly but Julian turned to look at his son who was now red in the face,

"I see she has no manners or concept of brains. Where did you pick her up? A brothel?" Your stomach dropped as you looked down at yourself, was he implying you looked like a whore? The woman who had dressed you tonight told you that you'd looked elegant.

"Don't." Yoongi seethed through gritted teeth,

"Women should be seen and not heard. Act like the trophy wife you are meant to be." Julian was in your face but within seconds he was shoved away by Yoongi, a smirk playing on his father's lips as he realised he was getting under his skin.

"Don't speak to my wife like that." He ordered but you pulled at his arm, you could already see people starting to stare and Yoongi didn't need the bad press.

"You're not married yet. Are you really going to cause a scene over a woman? Behave." He hissed at him, you stared at him as you waited for him to insult him one last time.

"Still just a child." He muttered, about to walk away when you finally found your voice once more.

"A child who has done more than you'll ever accomplish in your life." You hissed out at him, earning a smirk from Yoongi, he had to admit he was proud of you for not backing down from him.

"Why you little-" A hand was raised in the air but Yoongi caught it, shoving his father away from you.

"I see why you hate the man." You mumbled as Yoongi checked on you, his eyes softening once he saw you were okay.

"If he'd hurt you just then." It didn't bear to think about, he was angry, blood-curdling as he thought about the way his father had gone to strike you. 

"He didn't." You whispered to him, your hand rubbing his back softly but it did nothing to calm him down right now.

"I'd kill him."

"Yoongi." You pleaded with him, but he was lost in his own anger.

"He's a disgusting piece of shit and I would have killed him." You stepped in front of him, your eyes finding his as he stared down at you in shock,

"But then I'd have no one to watch the stars with," You whispered only for his whole body to relax and he nodded slowly at you.

"Let's get some food and go out on the balcony, we can go and look at the stars and pretend Julian isn't even here," You offered to him.

Yoongi ventured off to fetch some food and you found yourself alone in the gala, looking around at everyone who was dancing together or mingling. This world was something you'd never thought you'd fit into before but after spending so much time in it, it almost felt like home.

"Ah, Yn dear, there you are." You slowly turned around to see Mia, Rath's ex-wife making her way to you with a giant smile on her face.

"I've been meaning to have a word with you," She said as she reached you, her voice gentle and a welcoming contrast compared to her son.

"Of course, Mrs Min. Is everything alright?" You eyed her up as she smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"No one's called me that in years, call me Mia." She begged, you nodded at her and slowly made your way out onto the balcony to talk better together.

"I wanted to first tell you how happy I am that Evan has found someone like you." Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart fluttering at the unexpected praise.

"T-Thank you, Mia. That means a lot to me." Mia reached out to pat your hand affectionately.

"You know, I've seen the way he looks at you. It reminds me of the way Rath used to look at me." Your breath caught in your throat at the implication of her words.

"I...I'm not sure what you mean." She chuckled softly at you,

"Oh, my dear, don't be so modest. It's written all over his face- He loves you, and I couldn't be happier for the both of you, even if you were faking it at first." You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to process everything you'd just heard. Yoongi loved you - truly, deeply and unequivocally and that sent a surge of panic through you.

"Rath would have adored seeing you both together," Mia added before giving you an envelope.

"In my side of the will I was to give this to the beautiful girl from the cafe, now I assume that's you." You stared down at the envelope and nodded, quickly placing it into your bag to look at another time, when you weren't so stressed. 

"I-I have to go," You rushed out, panic taking over you as you began to hurry through the crowded hall. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, you loved him too but there was no way you could do this. You raced around a corner when you collided with Yoongi, sending you both sprawling to the floor.

"Yn, what's wrong?" Concern was etched in his features as he reached out to steady you. Your breathing turned tagged as you struggled to compose yourself, slowly standing up.

"I...I need to talk to you," Your voice barely came out above a whisper but Yoongi nodded, leading you to a nearby alcove away from prying eyes.

"What is it, Yn? You're shaking." He reached out to touch you and you took in a deep breath, words tumbling out in a rush as you fought to make sense of everything.

"I just spoke to your grandmother, and she...she said that you love me, Yoongi. And...I...I don't know what to do." Yoongi's expression softened as he reached out to cup your trembling hands in his, his touch sending a shiver of warmth coursing through you.

"Yn, listen to me. I know this is overwhelming but you need to understand something...you belong here with me," You stared up at him as he didn't deny falling for you, tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head.

"I ran away from this world."

"And now you're back but I promise it'll be nothing like your family's world." He breathed out as you stared at him, his eyes boring into you,

"You belong here, with me."

` "What if you suddenly decide I'm not good enough for you? What if I can't give you everything you deserve?" Yoongi brushed a gentle thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear.

"You're everything I need, Yn. Your love, your strength, your unwavering support - it's more than I could ever hope for. And as long as we have each other, we can face whatever comes our way." Tears began to melt away as you stared at him.

"I love you, Yoongi." You whispered, the words feeling like a weight was taken right off our chest.

"I love you, Yn, Always." He whispered. 

With a soft sigh, he closed the distance between you and you leaned in slowly to him. It felt like an eternity until your lips met in a tender kiss, time seemed to stand still as you savoured the sweetness of the moment, your hearts beating in harmony as you finally surrendered to the pull of love. It was a kiss so full of tenderness and longing, of hope and promise. 

When you pulled away your foreheads touched and you giggled a little.

"Let's go home, I wanna show you how much I really love you," He winks, as you squeal a little taking his hand and practically dragging him out of the party.

Months Later 

"CEO'S Expecting: Min Yoongi and Min Yn Announce Pregnancy, Anticipate The New Heir To The Legacy?" You read out the title of the "Webber Files" newspaper and stared over at Yoongi with a blank expression.

"I see why their paper sucks," You grumbled, folding it up and staring at your husband who hadn't been able to take his eyes off you.

"Don't look at me like that, the last time you looked at me like that, this happened!" You stated, pointing down at your baby bump and whining at him.

"But we had fun," He wiggled his eyebrows at you and sat down beside you on the sofa, the two of you curling up together on a lazy Saturday morning.

"We did," You giggled as he ran his hand over your bump, smiling happily to himself. Not long after you found out you were expecting Yoongi told you the other stipulation about getting his grandfather's portion of the company and that was a child but you couldn't have been happier it was happening.

"Julian will flip a lid." You laughed at the thought of his father finding out about his son having a child but more importantly, you couldn't wait for him to figure out he was getting nothing in the will besides a small shop in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh, I meant to say. Gran asked if you'd looked into the envelope yet. Whatever that means," He frowns and you reach out for your bag, opening it up to find the envelope still sitting there.

As you took it out and opened it you couldn't believe what you were reading.

"By now I assume Yoongi and yourself are together and knowing My Mia she would have given this to you at the appropriate time, but enclosed are the deeds to your cafe. All yours, all paid for, as well as the number to my lawyer who will arrange for you to inherit some money as an investment to you and your dream.

Best Wishes,

Rath,"

You and Yoongi stared at one another, laughing a little as you realised Rath had been planning your get-together for a very long time.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #suga #suga x reader #suga imagine #suga imagines

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.4K] request from anon: what about Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before? 

“Sloppy?” Steve grimaced, smiling through your word choice despite the disappointment he felt for you. 

You shrugged, nose crinkled as you remembered. “Yeah. Wet, y’know? And not like— it was just too much…tongue.”

There was a silence, a sad kind that filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say. You kind of regretted telling the boy. So you sighed and shrugged it off again, biting the head off of red Sour Patch Kid.

“Maybe I just don’t like making out,” you sounded defeated and Steve hated it, frowning as he watched you chew your candy mournfully, your back pressed to the side of his unmade bed. “That’s normal, right? Like, some people just don’t like things like that and—”

“Hey, hey,” Steve knocked his foot against yours, legs stretched out across his bedroom floor. The pack of playing cards had been abandoned beside some unopened twizzlers and Steve’s can of cherry soda. “Look, of course that’s normal. And— and if that’s how you feel, that’s totally okay, alright?”

The boy hesitated, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and wondered if he should keep talking. You watched him, brows raised expectantly. 

“I just think—” Steve cleared his throat, his pointer finger dragging patterned across his carpet. He shrugged, all faux nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound like a creep, not to his best friend. Not to you. “I just think that maybe you’ve not had a good kiss, y’know?”

You didn’t answer, not right away. And Steve didn’t try and backtrack, or explain himself, he just waited, watching you think. His bedroom window was open, the sounds of the early evening slipping through. Someone’s backyard pool filter, their sprinklers out the front, the quiet spin of a kids bike going down the sidewalk.  

You didn’t look at Steve when you finally asked, “well, what is a good kiss?”

You felt stupid, asking such a thing at your age but maybe you’d grown up picking all the wrong kinds of guys. Impatient boys, greedy boys, selfish boys. Boys who turned into men who didn’t have the time of day to take it slow with a girl like you. Boys who thought they were men, who used too much teeth and tongue and pressure and tasted like cheap party beer and the leftover smoke of their cigarette. 

Guys who got too handsy too quick, guys who didn’t care that when they pulled away from your lips, you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth and tried not to frown. 

Steve shifted a little, cheeks turning pink as his eyes found yours. “Well,” he gestured at you, awkward. His gaze settled on your lips before he blinked and looked away. “I mean, it helps when you really like the person, y’know? The uh, the chemistry of it all.”

You swallowed, throat feeling tight, chest feeling too warm. You remember Nancy talking about those kinds of feelings when she first kissed Jonathan, a dopey, soft smile on her lips as she recounted it, telling you of the buzz under her skin, the flips that her stomach did when he leaned in to meet her, eyes closing. 

“Sure,” you agreed. You don’t think you’d ever felt that way about the boys you had kissed. “Right.”  

“But I guess you’re supposed to take your time with it? I mean, at first, when you’re getting to know someone.” Steve smiled, soft, reassuring. His knee knocked yours. “You find out what they like.”

“What they like?” You asked, voice cracking a little. You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands. You picked up a green sour patch and bit its leg. “What does that mean?”

Steve looked bashful, miles apart from the boy you’d know in high school, with a girl on his arm in the hallways, a different one in his lap at a party that weekend. 

“I’d, uh, I mean— person A would go slow with person B, right? They’d start soft. Gentle, I guess? You gotta— they’d have to figure out how the other person likes to be kissed. Not everyone shoves their tongue down your throat, y’know.”

You huffed out a laugh but it sounded weak, too breathy. You wanted the boy to keep talking, you wanted to watch his pink cheeks and his pretty eyes dart across your face, like he was searching for something. 

You wondered if he’d find it. 

“Not everyone?” You whispered. 

“No,” Steve shook his head, his smile wry. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he was closer now, closer than before and you could smell his cologne, the cherry soda fizz that hung in the air along with Mr Jackson’s freshly mown grass. “No, no, not everyone. I’d give the girl a peck at first, yeah? Just something PG-13. Then, when she relaxes and you know, she moves closer, kisses me back, I’d—”

Steve broke off, blinking like he was getting rid of something hazy. He’d been looking at you as he spoke, words coming too easy, the air between you both warm despite the setting sun. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, awkward again, a bashful thing that made him suddenly even more endearing than you thought he ever could be. 

“You’d what, Steve?” You blinked, feeling warm, wondering if the boy could tell. You didn’t know what to do so you moved, leaning forward until you could fold your legs underneath yourself and your thigh bumped Steve’s shin. “You’d what?”

Steve’s eyes searched yours, his gaze falling to your lips and back again. You thought he found it then, that thing he seemed to be looking for. Because he cleared his throat and let one hand fall to the carpet between you, his fingers brushing over your socked toes and you almost jumped at the contact. 

The silence was too loud now. 

“I could show you, if you wanted.”

Someone’s lawn mower started up a few yards over, white noise buzzing in the distance as you tried to take in what Steve had just said. He was watching you, head tilted to the side, cheeks still rosy and when you looked at him carefully, you could see the barely concealed panic in his brown eyes. 

He pressed his lips together and tried to smile, tight and nervous and he was picking at the carpet, fingers fidgeting as you sat there dumbly. You heard the shake in his voice when he tried to say, “I am—,” he choked on his words, panicked. “—so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Steve,” you stopped the boy with a hand on his shin, your warm palm against the denim. “We’re friends, right?”

The word seemed to burn on your tongue, like it tasted like a lie, like it was as dangerous as one. You waited, breath held, wondering if you wanted Steve to agree or not. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly so serious. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course we are.” He worried at his bottom lip again, looking at your own. “Best friends.”

You nodded, tongue feeling too big for your mouth to speak. Words felt clumsy, your skin too warm. Buzzing. Fizzing. You weren’t sure if it was you or the air. 

“Show me.”

You thought Steve would maybe hesitate, maybe he’d back out or shout, ‘got you!’ like those prank shows Dustin liked to watch. You thought he’d maybe lay down some rules, maybe he’d tell you how this didn’t mean anything and really, he was only doing his sad friend a favour. 

He didn’t do any of that. In fact he didn’t say anything else at all. Steve just let out a breath and nodded once, almost to himself before he let his hand curl around the back of your calf and he tugged, gentle. 

He lifted his chin, a casual ‘c’mere’ that had your heart thundering and you wondered if this confidence, this way of acting so sure of himself, was how he got all the girls. 

A quiet sort of assertiveness that made your stomach flip inside out. 

You unfurled yourself from your sitting position, shuffling to your knees as you moved across Steve’s bedroom floor, bare shins burning against the carpet. You leaned back on your heels, brought yourself down to Steve’s level where he sat against his wall, legs stretched out before him. 

He didn’t warn you when he brought his hand to your face, fingers cupping your cheek and his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth and you were suddenly left wondering when Steve’s hands had gotten so big. You’d watched him grow, from a middle school kid to king Steve the senior. You’d seen the new muscles, the height, the hair. You’d never noticed his hands before but now they were on you, it’s all you could think about.

Dizzy. You felt dizzy. 

“Okay?” Was all he asked, voice softer and quieter now he was so much closer. 

You nodded, face too warm and licking across your bottom lip like a reflex. You weren’t sure where to look. Or where to put your hands. Most kisses you’d shared had happened in the crowds at parties or in the front seat of a boy’s car after a date. You usually lay your palms on their shoulders, holding on and wondering if every boy took these opportunities to grope your ass like a pile of dough. 

“We can stop,” Steve told you. He looked nervous and if anything, it made you feel more anxious than ever. “Whenever you want, ‘kay?” 

You nodded again, unable to really speak, too scared that your voice would crack or something equally stupid would happen. And maybe Steve knew this, maybe he knew you so much better than you ever thought he would, because he smiled and nodded too. 

“Okay,” he announced, quiet and soft and he was moving closer, noses bumping, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here goes.”

“Wait.”

Steve paused, gaze back on your own and he looked concerned, he looked worried and before he could ask you what was wrong you were sucking in a panicked breath and asking: “what if I’m the bad kisser?”

“What?” Steve let out a laugh, breathy and disbelieving and he was still so close, his hand on your jaw and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the apple of your cheek. He was shaking his head, smiling, looking too pretty and suddenly this seemed like a monumental thing, something gargantuan. “No, there’s no way.”

You squirmed on the floor, shifting further and then closer and Steve loosened his hold on you but you didn’t go anywhere. You just blinked at him, pained with worry. “How could you know?”

Steve paused as he thought and you wondered if he had an answer, if he was going to say something truthful or he was simply thinking of something sweet to say to placate you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and seemed to search for that… thing, again. 

I— I just—” Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t give you an explanation or a reason. 

He simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was chaste and sweet and entirely innocent, lips closed and nothing close to scandalous. But then he parted from you just a breath, looking at you from heavy lidded eyes, watching you from beneath his lashes. And when you didn’t move, you didn’t panic, Steve leaned in again, kissing you the same way until he nudged your chin up with his hand and his lips slotted between your own. 

He moved slowly, carefully, with a practised ease that made your toes curl and it was still sweet, it made your tummy warm and your head spin and Steve’s lips were soft, tasting like cherry soda and sugar. 

You caught up after a beat or two, your hand that wasn’t braced on the floor reaching up to cling to where you could reach. Your fingers found the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, fisting the soft material and doing everything to make sure he didn’t move away. You moved with him, lips meeting and parting over and over until Steve sucked in a breath and tilted his head to the other side, pressing closer, a little deeper. 

After another soft peck, he pulled away, eyes still closed and his thumb on your chin as he whispered, voice hoarse. “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, pressed his fingers under your jaw. “And now, a guy should be testing the waters, right?”

“They should?” You whispered back. Your eyes were still closed too, your fingers sneaking up past Steve’s collar to stroke at the skin at the base of his throat, experimental, adventurous. “How’d they do that?”

You were sure you felt the boy smile, sensed it. A warm breath across your lips as he moved closer again. “Like this—” 

Another kiss, the same as before, once, twice and then Steve was parting his mouth over your own and letting the tip of his tongue lick over your bottom lip. It was a fleeting touch, a zap, a buzz, a tingle down your spine and you gasped without thinking about it, lips parting for the boy and you followed suit, tongue moving past Steve’s lips to meet his own. 

He groaned then, a vibration against you, his hand skating back from your cheek to thread into your hair and he let his tongue move over your own, lips clicking every time they parted. It was slower than you’d been kissed before, something sensual about it despite being sat on your best friend’s bedroom floor and it made your insides somersault, the skin where Steve slouched burning. 

“Told you,” he murmured, breath heavy as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about,” he repeated and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, face blazing with heat, Steve was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Mhmm,” you agreed, barely listening, eyes still on the boy’s mouth, fingering the collar of his shirt, not ready to let go yet. “You must be a good teacher, or something.”

Steve looked distracted, Adam’s apple bobbing, gaze on your lips too. You weren’t sure he had stopped looking at them. “Yeah, yeah. Or something.” He swallowed, throat tight. “Do you wanna stop? Or—?”

“No,” you said, maybe too quickly. “Do you?”

“God, no,” Steve agreed just as fast. “You can keep going— just— what do you want…?”

Steve’s words died on his lips as you moved suddenly, rising to your knees only to push Steve back to the wall. His hands fell to his sides, hovering in mid air as he stared, watching as you swung a leg over his knees and sat carefully on his lap. You were cautious, more on his thighs that closer to anything else but you tried to breathe evenly as you took in the position. 

“Okay?” You asked him, voice caught sticky in your throat with nerves but Steve nodded, head bobbing hurriedly. You sucked in a breath, smoothing your hands over Steve’s shoulders before you did as he had, smoothing them up the sides of his neck and holding his jaw carefully. “What do I do now?”

‘Whatever you want,’ Steve wanted to beg. But apparently this was a lesson of sorts and he  had something to teach you. So he cleared his throat to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack and held your hips, hands gentle and polite. “You, uh, you find out what I like.”

You nails scratched at the back of his neck, unconsciously. You licked your lips. “How do I do that?”

Steve’s hands flexed on your hips, climbing to your waist, holding you a little tighter. Something seemed to shift then, his eyes lighting up. He looked like he was ready to fight, like you’d asked him if he were up for a challenge. It made you grin. 

“Kiss me.”

 So you did. 

You did as Steve had at the start, kissing him soft and slow and chaste, pulling away before he could catch you, teasing, nose bumping his and breaths mixing, cherry soda to fizzy candy. And just before Steve was about to groan, frustrated, you shifted closer, chest pressed to his and you parted your lips, catching his bottom lip between your own. 

It was a greedier kiss and Steve let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk, opening his mouth for you, nails digging into your sides when you licked over his tongue, exploratory, gentle. You felt him nod, the tip of his nose smushed to your cheek and you smiled, amused at his praise. 

“Like that?” You asked, breathless, barley parting from him to speak. 

“Yeah, like that,” Steve agreed, sounding just as wrecked. “Keep going, please.”

He didn’t have to ask again. Fuck, he didn’t even have to ask as nicely as he did because you were back on him in a heartbeat, kissing your best friend like you didn’t want him to remember anyone else. 

“Slower,” he whispered, muttering instructions against your mouth and you didn’t feel scolded, you didn’t feel embarrassed you just followed Steve’s instructions, pulling back slightly to kiss him softer, lips moving with his slower, slower, slower. 

You heard him groan, felt his chest rumble and his hands squeeze at you in silent praise and you knew then he liked it like that, liked to be teased. You nosed at his cheek, did as he had done and pushed your thumb under his jaw to bring his mouth up to yours, his head tipping back, back, back. You pecked over his cheeks then, over the bridge of his nose and at the corner of his lips until he was panting, waiting for you. 

“Yeah?” Was all you asked. 

“Yeah,” he hummed, feeling like he was vibrating. He let his eyes shutter closed, waiting for your next touch. “Yeah.”

You felt bolder, brazen, pushing your lips back to Steve’s and when you pulled away this time, you nipped at the boy’s bottom lip, pulling at it gently with your teeth and until it popped softly back into place and Steve swore, he cursed, he grunted and his hips shifted under yours. 

“You like that,” you noted with a smile and it wasn’t a question. 

Steve didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Instead he stared up at you and nodded, dazed, throat bobbing as he swallowed tightly and tried to get himself under control. 

You moved into each other again without discussion, an unconscious need that didn’t need a conversation. Your hands went to his hair, holding onto the messy ends at the nape of his neck as his travelled the expanse of your back, fingertips lifting the hem of your shirt every downstroke, his skin on yours. It was enough for you to make soft noises against him, nudging closer and Steve helped, his hands pulling at your waist until your chest pressed against his and were seated over his crotch. 

You felt him then, hard and pressed underneath his jeans and it made you kiss him like you had something to prove, mouths moving together, open and panting, tongues touching teasingly, teeth grazing against lips to try and make the other moan louder. 

And when Steve’s garage door opened, a groaning, grating sound below his window, it was an interruption that told you both his father had arrived home. 

You slid from his lap, chest heaving and eyes heavy on Steve’s pink cheeks. His lips were shiny from your work, his hands leaving your waist at the very last second, your butt hitting his carpet rather ungracefully as you backed away, suddenly so aware of the line that had been crossed. 

You were burning still, an ache between your legs that hadn’t quite been satisfied and your lips buzzed from Steve’s kisses, the slow, careful way he’d pressed his to your own. He’d paid attention, you realised, picked up on every noise you made, every shift against him, the way you kissed him back eagerly when he did something you liked. And you’d done the same, taking in his gasps and sighs, stomach flipping when his hips bucked and his chest moved a little quicker than before. 

Your fingers touched your bottom lip before you pressed the back of your hand to it, as if to hide the evidence. Steve was still staring at you, panting, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. 

And when his front door opened and closed and you could hear his fathers footsteps lead into his office, Steve stayed quiet. Only when the sound of the door clicking shut filled the silent house did he smile, boyish and all charm.

“See?” He reminded you, cheeks still burning. His hair was a mess from where you’d pulled on it. He looked rumpled, undone at the seams. “Told you, you weren’t a bad kisser.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington drabble

[jobean12-blog]

Aftermath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 2,318

Summary: Bucky has kept you safe for as long as he's had you but the first time you don't follow his orders is definitey going to be the last.

Author's Note: These new pics are giving lots of mob/mafia vibes and I love it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angst in the beginning and illusions to violence, mentions of a gun, Bucky is soft and there are lots of fluffy moments but he's pissed you didn't listen and he needs you.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily when Nat doesn’t pick up the phone. She only called you two minutes ago. Right after she sent you a text telling you she needed to talk. Under any other circumstances you would never leave your perch at the bar. Never leave the safety of Bucky’s club and go against his orders.

However, your best friend needs you. She just had a bad break up and things are still rocky so any time she calls you were sure to be there for her. So here you are, standing on the sidewalk outside Bucky’s nightclub, phone pressed to your ear and your foot tapping rapidly against the concrete.

Bucky told you about the heavy tension building between him and a rival boss trying to impede on his territory. He told you that your safety was his first priority. That’s why you were with him at his club right now. He didn’t want you out of his sight.

But you were only just right outside the door…

You’ll try Nat one more time then go back inside and wait for Bucky like he asked.

The phone starts ringing and you hold your breath, hoping she’ll answer. Just as you hear her voice on the other end a car pulls up at the curb and with one glance the occupants have you swiftly turning on your heel and heading back toward the doors of the club.

“Nat,” you say quietly. “Are you ok?”

“I’m having a rough night,” she sighs. “I need your opinion on something.”

“Of course.”

You’re walking at a brisk clip, realizing that during your musings you had wandered farther from the door than you intended to.

Nat is still talking but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears starts to drown out any other sounds.

Four men get out of the car, none of which you recognize. You need to get inside quickly. One of them, carrying a baseball bat, twirls it lazily in his hand as he saunters closer, looking you over appreciatively.

Apprehension shoots up your spine, intuition guaranteeing that they’re here to start trouble.

“Nat I have to go. Call Bucky.”

She starts to reply but you hang up before she can, hoping she heard the trepidation in your voice and does as you asked.

Before you can reach the entrance, two of them lunge in front of you and block your progress.

“Where are you goin’ so fast beautiful?” One of the men asks.

“Excuse me,” you say.

A third man circles up behind you.

“Let me by,” you tell them.

The man holding the baseball bat ignores you.

“You belong to Barnes don’t you?”

Your suspicions are right. These are bad men and they are definitely looking to cause some trouble for your husband. And you.

You shrink back on purpose, appealing to their inflated arrogance and hoping they will underestimate you.

“Please. Just let me go.”

The man with the bat laughs as he runs the coarse wood along your bare calf.

“Think your man will miss you?”

Before the bat reaches your thigh you smack it away. Even though the attempt is most likely useless you’re hoping to pass more time. One of the men behind you snakes a hand around your elbow and yanks you toward him.

“Get in the fucking car baby,” he sneers. “It’s for your own good.”

The fourth man, still in the car, pushes open the back door and lets out a whistle.

“Come on gorgeous. I’ll keep you warm for Barnes.”

You take a deep breath as they propel you toward the car and only put up a small amount of resistance. As soon as you sense they are under the false impression that you’re coming willingly, the hand on your elbow weakens and you act.

With sharp and quick movements you reach for the baseball bat now dangling loosely from the leader’s hands and grab it, swinging it in a large arc to buy yourself some room.

Two of the men jump back, having been caught off guard, but it connects with the leader’s rib cage and he let’s out a vile curse, falling to his knees.

You back up as the other two men approach. Unfortunately, it’s in the direction away from the doors.

“He should have locked this one up,” the man closest to you laughs. “She’s full of fire.”

“And I’m going to enjoy that,” he leader says as he stands, still holding his ribs.

You bring the bat down hard as he lunges for you, but he dodges the weapon and barrels himself closer until he can wrap a strong arm around your waist.

The bat is ripped from your hands and your back is plastered against the man’s chest, his hand creeping up between your breasts to wrap around your throat.

He squeezes hard, tight enough to cut of your air and reflectively your fingers claw and try to pry his hand away.

You try to focus, getting ready to go limp and convince him you’re out cold, so you can somehow disable him.

Just as you’re about to put your plan into action the front door of the club flies open, hitting the side of the brick building with enough force to crack the metal.

Through your dimming eyesight, you can make out several men, including Bucky, before his ferocious growl of denial echoes through the air around you.

It startles the man choking you enough that he eases up on the pressure, allowing you to suck in precious oxygen.

Guns are drawn just before your knees hit the concrete and your stomach twists with renewed fear.

“Bucky,” you whisper, getting to your feet and stepping closer to him.

His haunted gaze makes you swallow hard and you can see the emotional battle written all over his handsome features. With his long finger poised on the trigger, he clearly wants to end the man who had his hands on you.

Without a word he tears his attention away from you, indicting your captor with a nod of his head.

“Steve.”

Steve, his own gun held in a tight grasp, moves in front of Bucky and toward the other man.

“He doesn’t go anywhere,” Bucky seethes.

The other two men from the rival group, still outside of the car, lower their weapons, watching with no emotion as Steve wrestles their leader to the ground with the gun to his head.

Finally, they let out a string of curses and hop back into the car, leaving their ‘friend’ behind as they peel away from the curb.

Bucky motions to Clint and Sam. “Follow them. This ends tonight.”

As Clint and Sam rush off to follow Bucky’s order he slowly saunters forward, the open collar of his shirt blowing wider in the light breeze.

He picks up the bat with a nonchalance that contradicts the tightness of his body and swings it deftly in his metal hand. When his fingers close around the handle you hear the wood crack under the pressure.

Bucky comes to a stop directly over the left-behind leader, and his gaze meets yours for a brief, heavy second, before he raises the bat high and brings it down with enough force to make you gasp.

Your heart races out of control, breathing shallow in your ears. The bat connects with the sidewalk next to the man’s head, sending shards of wood in every direction.

Your relief is short lived.

Bucky crouches down and looks the cowering man straight in his eyes.

“You. Are a dead man.”

Slowly and purposefully he rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you. You swallow the hard lump in your throat and place your fingers in his. In a split second you’re swept into his arms and tugged against his hard chest.

He drags you toward his car and tucks you into the passenger seat, buckling your belt and then slamming the door shut.

Through the closed window you can still hear him shout to Steve. “You know where to take him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The silence stretches long and thin through the car and you can almost feel Bucky’s rage. You open your mouth to speak but promptly shut it when you hear his huff of warning.

He hates the feeling of fear so instead he welcomes the anger, focusing on it, wishing it’s enough to block out the image of you being choked, your feet scraping at the ground and hands clawing at your neck.

If he dwells on it too long his whole word will collapse and he has to get you home. To safety.

At the reminder of what he saw as he walked out of the club, his grip tightens on the leather steering wheel, almost making the car swerve.

When he pulls up in front of your house he checks his surroundings before driving in through the gated driveway. He looks to you, a silent demand to wait, before he gets out of the car and does another sweep of the area.

Once he deems it safe he opens your door and helps you out of the car.

When you’re safely inside the house he leaves you standing just inside the door, inside the large and opulent foyer, as he flies around the nearby rooms and checks every window and lock.

Your gaze follows him the entire time, trying desperately to draw him in and away from the rage. He staunchly defies it and after he feels satisfied the house is safe he takes you by the arm and leads you toward your shared master bedroom.

He walks to the nightstand and opens the drawer, reaching deep into the back to retrieve a gun.

“Bucky, please. Will you just talk to me?”

He can feel you standing close.

“You will stay in this room, with the door locked, until I come back. Anyone tries to get in that isn’t me, you shoot them. Understand?”

When your silence becomes too much he turns to you, keeping his eyes steady as he pleads.

“Tell me you’ll listen. That you understand.”

You take a deep inhale but still don’t speak.

“I’m waiting for my answer doll.”

You move closer and everything inside him tenses up.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

You lay a hand on his chest, immediately making him tremble from head to toe. His eyes close defensively as your hand moves higher and sneaks under the open buttons of his shirt then to his neck and finally into his hair.

Your lips press to his neck.

“Please Bucky. Don’t leave me. Stay.”

He shakes his head, unable to speak and it only makes you drag your lips higher, along his jaw until they hover just above his mouth.

A groan leaves his parted lips before he can stop it.

“I’m scared. I need you.”

Your lips brush over his, once, twice. The hand in his hair runs smoothly along the back of his neck and then coasts over his broad shoulder and down his chest.

“I have to go doll.”

His words are gritted and tortured before his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“You know where I’m goin.’ Don’t make me say it.”

When he notices the glossiness of your eyes it strips him bare and he falls back a step, ready to fall to his knees for you.

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

He’s shouting now.

“If I hadn’t gotten to you in time? One minute later, baby. One fucking minute!”

Your fingers tremble as you reach for him.

“I know, I…”

“You would have been gone. How can you expect me to survive that.”

He breaks off, not able to put the horrifying thought into more words.

“Fuck. I’m so mad at you doll. So mad. But all I can think about is how I need to be inside you. Need to feel you wrapped around me. Feel you everywhere.”

You tightly grasp the lapel of his jacket and drag him closer. He comes easily. Willingly.

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just thought I’d be outside for a second. Nat needed me…I never thought…”

Every word you speak continues to topple the reinforced barrier of anger he’s built. The only thing keeping it standing is that there’s still some physical space between you both.

But then you take a step closer and curl your fingers in the hem of your dress to draw it up over your head, the whole time letting your knuckles and hands brush along his heaving chest and every ounce of his self-control vanishes.

His heated gaze rakes over you and his hands fist at his sides.

You press yourself against him and deliberately untuck his shirt, slipping your hands underneath the lush fabric and running your fingernails up his rigid stomach. His muscles contract beneath your fingers.

“I need you baby doll. So badly.”

You unhook your bra and drop it to the floor, tingles racing over your skin as his jaw grinds with his devouring stare. You lower your hand to palm and squeeze his straining arousal.

“You can have me now Bucky. Now and always.”

His expression softens long enough for you to catch the brightness in his eyes and then his mouth is on yours, his hands frenzied as they grasp and smooth over every inch of your bare skin. He never breaks the kiss as he walks you backward toward the bed, letting you gently fall to the soft mattress before he settles himself between your spread legs.

“I can’t touch all of you at once and it drives me crazy,” he whispers against your lips as his hand slides down between your legs. “I need everything, always.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50 @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #mob!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #mob au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Lessons in Love.

Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 3615

Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x

Masterlist. Requests.

“No way. How is that even possible?”

You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.

“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.

“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”

The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.

You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.

Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.

A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.

“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”

Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.

You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.

You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.

　            ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.

The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.

Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.

And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.

Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.

He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.

“Hi.”

Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.

“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.

“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”

You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.

It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.

You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.

He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.

“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.

“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.

“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.

You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.

You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.

“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.

“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.

“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”

You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.

“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.

“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.

Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?

He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.

He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.

“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”

Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.

“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.

He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.

At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.

Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.

“Bucky,” he murmurs.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.

“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.

“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”

You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.

You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.

“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.

“There’s more than one kind of milk?”

Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.

“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”

He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.

“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”

She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.

You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.

“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.

“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”

No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.

Instead, he answers cautiously.

“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.

“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.

Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.

“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.

You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.

Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.

“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.

“What, me?” you tease.

“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.

“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.

“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.

“Why don’t we do it together?”

A pause. He’s confused again.

“Do what together?”

“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”

It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.

You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.

“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”

Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.

“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.

“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”

He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.

You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.

“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”

He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.

“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.

　            ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.

Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.

“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.

You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”

He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.

You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.

Underneath your name, only one thing is written.

I love you.

You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,

“You do?”

That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.

“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”

You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.

“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.

“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.

He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?

You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.

He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.

Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –

“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”

I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #marvel x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fluff #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier fluff #bucky barnes x oc #marvel x oc

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

masterlist

#x reader #reader insert #smut #suna x reader #suna rintaro smut #suna smut #hq smut #haikyu smut #suna rintaro x reader #haikyu x reader #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro fic #suna rintaro haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #haikyuu #suna rintaro x you #rintarou suna #suna rintarou #fanfiction #fanfic

[teamatsumu]

where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)

summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions

word count: 1981

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties

event masterlist

There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.

There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.

It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.

Friend.

The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.

High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.

Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.

Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.

“Ready for dinner?”

Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.

When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.

“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”

He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”

You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”

And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.

You can feel your shoulders drop.

After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.

As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.

When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.

“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.

“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”

You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.

“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”

Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.

Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.

“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”

You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.

“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”

And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.

……………………

Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.

Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.

Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.

Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.

You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.

You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.

He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.

“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.

“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.

“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.

You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”

You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.

“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.

“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”

“Me too.”

“Okay good.”

Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.

“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.

Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.

That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.

A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.

“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.

You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.

“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”

He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.

“I like you tons.”

You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.

“I like you tons too.”

Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.

#hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo haikyuu #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo fluff #hinata shoyo fanfiction #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #hinata shōyō

[alwaysmoncheri]

oh my goodness! your james potter fic is amazing!! can I request something where they’re walking to a cafe or a restaurant and he follows the sidewalk rule? <3

in my james potter era again? kidding, i’m taking all requests! (can you see how hard i’m trying to keep you guys sending requests?) thank you for requesting, love! i hope this is what you were looking for!

cw: fem!reader, mostly shy!reader (reader does do a few non-shy actions tho), established relationship, minimal kissing, james being a sweetheart, 876 words

<3

“hey, jamie, do you know where my scarf is?” you ask, and your footsteps echo down the staircase as you make your way towards the front door in a rush. james stands still for a moment, hand resting on the doorknob, eyes watching closely as you gently pat down your hair, as if it’s a mess. you’re pulling on your coat when your eyes meet his, frantic and questioning, awaiting his response. 

“no, I haven’t seen it, lovely.” james responds, his hand leaving the door as he takes a couple steps towards you, “where did you see it last? he asks, his tone patient as you search your mind for the answer to his question. 

“I don’t know, I don’t remember,” you reply with a deep sigh, disappointment radiating off your face. james feels a tug at his heart, desperate to make you feel better. 

“how about you take mine and we can look for yours when we get home?” james suggests, already tugging at the end of his scarf and offering it to you. 

your face lights up and you find yourself forgetting all about your missing scarf in a heartbeat, “oh, you’re the best,” you practically swoon, quickly taking the scarf from james and wrapping it around your neck. you then grab james’ face with both of your clothed gloves and kiss him so quickly that he doesn’t have a chance to kiss back, but he doesn’t have to because you mean it as a ‘thank you’ to his kindness towards you, “okay, lets go before the cafe gets too busy.” you say, covering your nerves from your bold action and not noticing james’ silent moment of complete infatuation towards you because you’re quick to grab his hand and tug him towards the front door. 

when the breeze of the cold winter morning hits your face, you’re suddenly extra grateful that james lent you his scarf. you peek a glance at him, as you walk down the sidewalk hand-in-hand, a light dusting of snow covering the top. you notice his cheeks are red, the color spreading down to his neck and into his coat. hoping to make him feel better, you wrap your other hand around his bicep and lean your head onto his arm. james glances down at your attempt to warm him up with a gentle smile grazing his frozen lips. 

“if you’re wondering, i’m warming you up.” you confess, noticing his eyes on you and breaking the comfortable silence with your gentle words. james chuckles, the sound warming you more than you did him. 

“thank you, darling,” james begins, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at you, “if this is what you’re like when I lend you my scarf, maybe we don’t need to find yours.” 

you roll your eyes but your cheeks flush at his suggestion, “you’d like that.” you retort, kicking at the small amounts of snow beneath your feet.

“yes, I would.” james replies with zero hesitation, nuzzling his nose into your pink-tinted cheek, from both the cold and his words. you giggle, pushing his face away from yours, but james pursues, wanting to hear more of his absolute favorite sound come from your mouth. when you finally get him to stop, you take a deep breath, allowing your oxygen-deprived lungs air from all the laughing. 

then, you retangle yourself within james’ arms before whispering, “maybe, we don’t need to find my scarf.” james smiles because he hears your words, even when you think he doesn’t. 

as you continue the walk to your favorite cafe, you cross a street, ending on the opposite side of the sidewalk. james gently grabs your wrist, causing you to release your grip on his arm, before he’s pulling you around to his other side. you look up at him, confusion written across your face, but james doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. you notice which side of the sidewalk you now stand on and only now do you realize the reason for james’ abrupt actions. a smile creeps onto your face and you look at your toes to hide your excitement, however james knows you too well.

“what are you smiling at down there?” james asks and you can hear the wide grin on his face in his tone, the way it questions you with joy hidden underneath the surface. 

“nothing.” you sing out, turning your head to look at james, and for a moment the two of you just walk, staring at each other with silly grins on your faces. 

“right.” james hums, finally looking away to watch the sidewalk in front of you, making sure to steer you in the direction of the cafe. 

a giggle bubbles from your chest, “just thinking about how much I love you.” you say, leaning your head on his arm once more. 

james kisses the top of your head, “I love you more, lovely.” he replies and you know it’s true. because everything he does is for you. and if you even tried to do the same amount of things that he does for you, he would still manage to top it every time. 

you sigh, a sound of complete contentment as the two of you continue to walk, “I know.��

<3

masterlist . james potter masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @annoyingmidgetwhowrites

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

#my works ──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !! #masterlist #marauders james potter #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james fleamont potter #james fleamont potter x reader #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #marauders era #marauders fluff #marauders fandom #marauders imagine #james potter x you #james potter smut #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter headcanon

[enha-stars]

✧ Invisible String — Soulmate AU

Pairing: non-idol!jay x fem!reader (fluff)

Summary: In a world where Soulmates exist, you never truly cared about the phenomenon. It would happen, and you would have no control over it. But when you visit your aunt in the winter, you realize that having a Soulmate isn’t so bad. Not when he’s so perfect for you.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, kissing, some swearing, suggestive, fluff, the smallest amount of angst if you squint (wc: 9.2k)

Soulmate Masterlist

The cold February air hugs you tight, kissing your cheeks softly as it paints your face cold. If you had known that it would be this chilly, you would have dressed warmer. 

But you didn’t know, because no one told you. 

It was a surprise trip your parents had planned, wanting to take a break from your mundane, ordinary lives. So they packed up the car and drove two hours south, stopping only when they reached your aunt’s driveway. 

Now, you were waiting on the sidewalk for your cousin. She had run in to grab her purse. Unconsciously, you rubbed the small J on your right wrist. Although you didn’t necessarily care for your Soulmate as much as everyone else did, you still found it slightly comforting.

Knowing he was out there. 

“Sorry!” Your cousin tumbled out of the front door, heaving. “Sorry. Your mom kept handing me money and my mom kept telling me not to take it.” She looked up at you, flushed and smiling. 

You grinned, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Both your mothers, being sisters, often did things like this. It was funny to everyone else, but serious for them. You usually waited them out, knowing there was no point until they gave up. 

You waved your hand in dismissal, instantly dropping it. “Let’s go?” Your cousin had pitched the idea of going to the famous, local music restaurant and you jumped at the idea. You really couldn’t stand another family game night. 

You strolled down the road side by side as she caught you up on everything. You really did miss her. Being the same age, she always understood you. She knew of your impassiveness and you knew of her obsession. 

“Guess who found their Soulmate,” she asked you, her eyes wide. You laughed before you bit your lip in thought. You knew most of her friends, having grown up alongside her before your family moved. 

You shrugged, opting for her to just tell you. “No idea. Who is it?” 

She clapped her hands. “Heeseung!” At your raised eyebrows, she laughed. “I know, right? He went out with his parents last week and she was the hostess there. They’re actually really cute.” 

You nodded in surprise, a warm surge of something in your chest. It always happened when you heard of others finding their Soulmate. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for them. He was looking, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He kinda gave up but I guess fate had other plans.” She eyed you before glancing at your wrist, the one you were still rubbing. 

“What about you?” She tried to keep the intrigue out of her voice but you could see it in her eyes. She really wanted you to find your Soulmate, but you weren’t necessarily eager. She had found her Soulmate as soon as she turned eighteen, having been friends with him for years. 

You shrugged before dropping your wrist. “You know me. I’m not looking. If he finds me then I guess that’s it.”

She frowned, pursing her lips. “Y/n, you don’t have to sound so… defeated about it. It’s a good thing. It’s a beautiful thing.” She rubbed her wrist, the red S glowing. Before, she used to be very adamant about finding your Soulmate. But when you explained to her that not everyone grows up with their Soulmate, she understood. She was extremely lucky. 

You rolled your eyes, having heard this conversation many times before. “I know. It’s just… it makes me uncomfortable, you know? I’m just supposed to trust that this man is perfect for me?”

Your cousin nodded in understanding, because she did understand. You had always been the one who asked questions and wanted to remain independent. A lot of people were like you. It was hard to comprehend that the universe created two people perfect for each other. 

“Just,” she sighed as you neared the restaurant, “don’t push it away, okay? Don’t run from it. From what I’ve seen and gone through, it’s a really beautiful process. It’s like breathing for the first time.”

You nodded, opening the door for her. “I’m not against it. I’m just not super for it either. I’m just… indifferent. Yeah,” you smiled. “Indifferent.” 

She laughed before fixing her coat. She had texted her friends to meet at the restaurant and you were excited. You liked all her friends and some of them were really good singers and attractive. It had been a while since you had seen them, years for some, and you knew you would have a good time with them. You always did. 

Walking into the restaurant, you inhaled the sweet scent of wood and whiskey. Your eyes wandered, taking in the cabin-like furniture of the establishment before glancing at the bar, then at the stage. A band played their music while people sat and listened, some singing along and some just enjoying the atmosphere. This was your first time here since you became an adult, and you now understood why everyone loved it. It was just up your alley, dark and comfortable. 

Your cousin grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her friends, smiling and waving at them. You laughed at her excitement. She was more excited for you to see them than she was. She immediately made her way to Sunghoon, kissing him passionately. The day they had both turned eighteen changed everything. The only reason you had high expectations was because of them. 

They were truly perfect for each other. 

All her friends waved and greeted you both loudly, smiling. “You guys made it!” You smiled at Heeseung, having known him for years. He smiled at you before side-hugging you. He looked good. His eyes shined brighter and he had a permanent smile etched onto his lips. He patted your back before bear hugging your cousin. 

You greeted everyone else, hugging those you were close with and smiling at those you weren’t. Some faces you recognized; Jake and Jungwon. They greeted you warmly, glad you had come tonight. 

There was a man you didn’t recognize and you smiled at him as he introduced himself. “I’m Sunoo. It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

You laughed, finding him adorable. He had bright eyes and his black hair fell to his eyes. “Only good things, I hope.”

Sunghoon threw his arm around Sunoo and grinned at you, his fangs making an appearance. “Now, Y/n, you know that’s impossible.”

You grinned before slapping his shoulder. “I’m not completely terrible.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Say that to the hole in my wall.”

At his words, your eyes widened and your mouth dropped to the floor. Sunoo laughed in disbelief, slapping Sunghoo’s chest. “She’s the one who put the hole in your wall?” 

Sunghoon nodded, not looking displeased about it at all. In fact, he looked elated. 

You grimaced. “I can’t believe you haven’t gotten that fixed yet. It’s been years.”

“It’s been one.”

You threw your hands up in shame, a sheepish smile on your face. “Okay, true. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know your walls were so weak.” 

Sunoo stared at you both, back and forth before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, what happened?”

You dropped your head when Heeseung threw his arm around you, grinning. “Are we talking about Y/n’s famous misadventures?” 

You shook your head as Sunoo and Sunghoon nodded. You hid your face in your hands as Heeseung and Sunghoon told Sunoo the story of you trying to do a handstand in his basement when you fell over, your foot crashing into the wall, making a hole in the center of the wall. 

You sighed and dropped your head back as the three laughed, a slow smile creeping onto your face at the sound. It was nice, being surrounded by jazz music and the laughter of your friends.

At the sound of laughter, your cousin, Jake, and Jungwon make their way over to you. You smiled at them as the other three lost their mind, howling over other mishaps you kept finding yourself in. You truly had a knack of getting into weird situations when you were in this town. 

“I’ll fix that hole in your wall for you,” you said. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you as his laughter turned into heavy breathing. “I’m serious. I know how.”

Your cousin nodded, resting her hand on your shoulder. She was so happy you were here with her, with her friends. With your friends. “She’s really good,” she agreed. “Y/n fixes up both our houses.” She narrows her eyes at Sunghoon and he crumbles.

Sunghoon crosses his arms. “Alright. How much?”

You shook your head. “Never bring up that story again?”

Jake laughed. “But it’s such a good story. One of our favourites, actually.”

Before you could answer, Jungwon smiled. “I’m sure we’ll have more stories to tell about Y/n before this week is over.”

At your deadpan look, Jungwon and Jake laughed before you all found your seats at the table. “I’m never coming back here. There’s a reason we moved and it’s because of all of you.” At your pout, Sunghoon pats your head. You allowed it only because of your cousin and the way she smiled up at him, all foolish and in love. 

“Alright, Y/n. If you fix the hole in my wall, I’ll never bring up the story again.” You both stared at each other before shaking on it. 

“By the way,” Heeseung said. “This deal only applies to Sunghoon.”

You smiled at Heeseung. “Die.”

He laughed before checking his phone. A stupid smile took over and you had a feeling that his Soulmate had texted him. You glanced at his wrist and stared at the red letter. That’s what happened when you found your soulmate and touched them for the first time. The black letter turned red and remained red. 

“Where’s Jay and Riki?” Your cousin asked Heeseung, passing a glass of water to you. You didn’t know who Jay or Riki were, but you assumed they would make an appearance before the end of the night. 

“Riki’s at practice and asked Jay to stay with him. They’ll be here soon.”

Your cousin nodded before leaning into you. “What do you wanna eat? I was thinking of onion rings.” You scanned the menu. “Hm. What about calamari?” Your cousin nodded, knowing you both were going to share, regardless. 

After the orders of food and drinks had been placed, Jake leaned back in his seat. “So, what’s up, Y/n? What have you been up to? It’s been what, a few months?”

You nodded, sipping on your water as the conversations picked up around you. “Yeah. It’s been a while. I’m good! Just finishing up school and working. Honestly, my life is pretty boring right now.” 

Jake and Sunoo nodded in understanding. Jake glanced at your wrist before smirking. “So, any news on the Soulmate?”

You rolled your eyes and showed him your wrist, your black letter on clear display. “Nope.” You eyed their wrists. “What about you guys?”

Jake and Sunoo both showed their wrists, their black letters vibrant against their fair skin. You watched as Jake lowered his wrist but Sunoo stared at his own, a twisted frown on his pink lips. He traced the letter once before dropping his wrist, staring at his water. 

You wanted to ask but you only met him today. When it came to Soulmates, some were more sensitive than others. It was a centuries old phenomenon but it never got easier to accept. You had an inkling that Sunoo was more sensitive than others. Instead, you smiled at him when he caught your eye. 

You tuned into the other conversation happening at the table and instantly sat straighter. Heeseung was recounting the night he met his Soulmate and you listened carefully. Although it happened all the time around you, the stories always made you melt. The ice beneath your exterior slowly breaking. 

“And then I touched her hand. I just brushed her hand but my entire body was on fire. Then our marks began to burn and they turned red. After that, well, we didn’t talk much.” He grinned, a twinkle in his eye. Everyone laughed and your cousin shoved his shoulder, mumbling about having decorum. 

Only to have Sunghoon raise his eyebrow at his Soulmate, smirking. “We didn’t do much talking either, babe.” You wanted to gag just for the sake of it. 

“Did the burning hurt?” You furrowed your eyebrows. It was always different with certain people. Sometimes it burned in a cool, tingly way and sometimes it burned the way warm water on a cold day burned. For your cousin, she said it felt like a bucket of cold water had poured over her on a hot day. 

Heeseung shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. “Not at all. It burned the way an itch that you’ve finally scratched burns. It was like relief settled in my bones.”

The other listened carefully, despite having heard all of this before. Heeseung was lucky because he was young. Your letter appeared when you turned eighteen, and many people spent all their twenties finding their Soulmates. Now, he was the third person in their friend group to have found their lover. 

“And where is she?” Your cousin asked, shoving a piece of calamari in her mouth. Sunghoon smiled fondly at her, his hand resting on her thigh. They sat pressed together and you almost wondered why she wasn’t sitting on his lap but chose to ignore that thought. 

“She’s working tonight. Begged her to take the night off but it was too late.” His eyes were saddened but then he was smiling. “I’m seeing her later tonight.” 

The rest of the night was spent drinking and talking, with the occasional performance by Heeseung and Jake. The night was filled with warmth; constant laughter and conversation flowed with the help of drinks and snacks. Your cheeks felt warm and your stomach was full. This was the most fun you had in a while and you were so thankful. 

As it neared midnight, you stood from your seat, blinking the haze from your eyes. Your cousin and Sunghoon, along with Heeseung and his Soulmate, had been on the makeshift dance floor for a while. All the couples swayed to the music, carelessly in love. You had spent the better part of your evening with Jake, Jungwon, and Sunoo. They made amazing company and you couldn’t stop laughing. You stumbled and Jake reached out, steadying you. You smiled at him before walking towards the dance floor.

You nudged Sunghoon’s shoulder and grinned at him when he raised an eyebrow at you. You stared at him before you slapped his forehead. Your mind was a bit fuzzy from all the music and the ambiance. “Can I have her back? We should get home.”

Sunghoon groaned into your cousin’s hair, refusing to stop swaying. Your cousin laughed before pulling away from him, kissing his cheek. “She’s right, baby. We gotta go.” 

Heeseung caught your eye and waved at you, blowing you an exaggerated kiss and his Soulmate smiled at you before they went back to dancing.

Sunghoon sighed before nodding, he flicked your forehead before pulling you both back to the table. You said your goodbyes, kissing and hugging the boys. Jake ruffled your hair before making you promise to hangout with them again. Jungwon kissed your cheek and told you to let him know when you planned to fix Sunghoon’s wall. Sunoo hugged you and asked for your number. Your cousin promised to make another group chat, one with everyone. You smiled at Riki, finding the teenager adorable. You met him today but you already loved him. He grinned at you, giving you a thumbs-up. 

Sunghoon drove you both back home, mumbling about curfews and the time. You barely listened as you sat in the back, staring out the window. It had been a good day. A really good day.  

Parking in your driveway, you stepped out of the car, blowing Sunghoon a kiss and flipping him off. You chose to ignore the makeout session as you stepped into your aunt’s home, hoping everyone was asleep. 

They were.

After a few minutes, your cousin stumbled through the front door, frowning at the ledge she always tripped over. You both giggled before trying to quietly make your way to her bedroom. 

You both passed out side by side, makeup only wiped off and clothes thrown aside. It will be a good week. 

Jay slowly opened the basement door with his foot, balancing the tray carefully on his left hand as he adjusted his sweater with his right hand. He thought this was all unnecessary but Heeseung insisted, and well, he had a hard time refusing him. 

Heeseung had chastised Jay for skipping the other night instead of showing up with Riki. The younger boy, while only allowed on one side of the restaurant, showed up despite being exhausted. Jay had no excuse besides not being in the mood. So, here he was. Holding a tray full of all their favourite finger foods because he was pathetic. 

Sighing, he slowly walked down the stairs. He had told Sunghoon so many times to let him add carpet to the stairs but he always refused. Something about authenticity and aesthetic. Jay could hear their chatter and his small frown curled upwards. Despite his sighing, he was happy. It was cold out today but the sun shone brightly and all his friends were together. 

As soon as Jay stepped onto the cold basement floor, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He told Riki and Jungwon to help Sunghoon cleanup but it didn’t seem like they did. The faint smell of Chinese food lingered in the air and he sighed. He’d have to open a window. 

Jake spotted him first and threw his head back in relief, his hand on his stomach. “Thank god, man. I’m starving.” 

Jay raised an eyebrow as he set the tray down on Sunghoon’s only table. “You’re always starving, Jake.” 

Jake only shrugged before jumping up, walking to the tray without a care. Heeseung laughed at him and Sunoo swatted Jake’s bottom as he passed. Sunghoon lifted his eyes from his phone before frowning at Jake. “Don’t spill any crumbs.”

They all watched as Jake chomped down on a slider, crumbs falling on the floor. Sunghoon sighed in exasperation as Jungwon laughed. There were truly some habits that could not be helped. Jay sank down on the empty bean bag next to Riki and stretched his legs. He unconsciously rubbed his wrist, his finger tracing the black letter. 

“Jay,” Heeseung called. Jay lifted his head and looked at Heeseung. “You honestly should have showed up the other night.” Jungwon and Sunoo nodded in agreement, snacking on the plates Jake made them. Heeseung thanked Jake before looking back at Jay. “You would have loved Y/n.”

Jay had been hearing your name quite frequently the past couple of days. You were Sunghoon’s Soulmate’s cousin, someone who left town a few months before he came. He had heard your name a few times over the years, somehow always missing you. Every time you were in town, he was preoccupied. To him, you existed in the fantastical stories that Sunghoon and Jake told him. 

He glanced at the hole in the wall next to him, grinning at the story Sunghoon loved to tell. He almost wanted to punch the wall to see how weak the drywall truly was, but he respected himself too much to go through with it. 

“My bad, Hyung,” Jay ran his hand through his hair. “I was honestly exhausted and would not have made good company. Let’s plan something else in a few days.” 

Heeseung nodded, going back to playing the game with Jake. Soft music played as everyone lounged around, basking in the quietness of the afternoon. They didn’t get many moments like this. Not with everyone’s hectic schedule. 

“When is Y/n coming over to fix the wall, Hyung?” Riki asked Sunghoon, controller in his hands and crackers in his mouth. Jay slowly turned his head to Sunghoon, eyebrows raised and lips parted. 

Sunghoon pursed his lips. “I think after six? That’s what she said yesterday.” 

“What?” Jay stared at Sunghoon, mouth agape. “I’ve asked you for months to let me fix that hole! And you’re letting Y/n do it?” 

Sunghoon shrugged. “Yeah. She asked.” At Jay’s unimpressed look, Sunghoon smiled. “Plus, the missus told me to.” At his confession, Jay dropped his shoulders. There was nothing to argue if Soulmates were involved. 

Still, he frowned. He could be a bit annoyed by it. He knew he could have fixed the hole in less than thirty minutes, but Sunghoon never let him. He said it was funnier, and it was a nice reminder, but Jay simply thought he was crazy. 

“Y/n was nice,” Sunoo mused. Jay shifted his eyes from the screen to him, listening. “She’d never met me and tried her best to engage me in conversation. Plus,” he smiled, “she didn’t even ask about my Soulmate.”

Jay raised an eyebrow at Sunoo’s words, slightly impressed. Sunoo wasn’t the most subtle when it came to his feelings, so he often got many questions. Jay was just glad his friend was comfortable and had a good time. 

“You guys should have seen her last year,” Heeseung laughed. “Before the wall incident, she figured out a way onto my roof. It was the craziest thing I had ever seen. One second we’re all in my garage and then she’s on the roof.” 

Jake and Jungwon burst into laughter, clearly remembering the incident like it happened yesterday. Sunghoon grinned at his phone as he typed away, and Sunoo smiled at what Jay could only assume was his imagination, trying to picture it. 

Riki pouted at the television. “I wish I got to see that,” he mumbled. 

“Yeah,” Sunghoon nodded, still primarily focused on his phone. “She’s a good one. She’s not super into the whole Soulmate thing, though.” 

Jay’s eyes widened a fraction before he bit into a cracker. He didn’t know many people who weren’t absolutely smitten with the idea of Soulmates. Although he knew it was inevitable, he couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure about it. He didn’t even know who he was, so how could the universe make someone for him? Who could truly stand him and his flaws? Who could look at him and decide they loved him anyways? 

Jungwon nodded, munching away. “Yeah, she mentioned it the other night. It’s kind of interesting, actually.” He looked at Jay. “She thinks like you.”

Jay rolled his eyes, snorting. “Oh, so she has common sense?” He dodged the pillow Heeseung threw at him and grinned before looking back at Jungwon. “Anyone with common sense would find it a bit weird.” 

Immediately, the other six boys in the room shook their heads. They were used to Jay’s rambling and thoughts. In retrospect, they could understand where he was coming from. Jay had grown up relatively lonely, and so he learned to be independent and capable very early on. 

Jokingly, Jungwon had joked about Jay and Y/n being Soulmates to Heeseung. The older boy only slapped his shoulder and shook his head. He knew neither party would appreciate the joke.

“Everyone knows you’re a romantic at heart, Jay.” Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “You can drop the tough boy exterior. We won’t tell anyone.”

Jay laughed before throwing the pillow at Jake, hitting him right in the chest. He grinned at Jake’s baffled expression before dropping his shoulders. “Shut up.” 

The boys laughed. As much as they liked to tease Jay, they all loved him very much. He was a busy guy and any time they got with him was precious. Riki shifted his beanbag and laid his head in Jay’s lap. Sunghood said nothing as he picked up Jay’s empty plate and passed him a full one, knowing that Jay sometimes got too busy to eat properly. 

The next few hours were spent leisurely; alternating between playing games and having weird, in-depth conversations about random topics. Jay’s cheeks hurt from laughing. His sweater had come off hours ago and now he laid on the floor, Jungwon draped over him as they watched Heeseung and Riki play an intense game of Twister. 

Jay glanced at his watch and cursed, gaining the attention of Jungwon and Sunoo. “What is it, Hyung?” Sunoo asked, eyes on Heeseung’s trembling form. If Heeseung lost, Riki got to tell Heeseung’s Soulmate one secret. If Riki lost, he had to yell Heeseung’s name at his next game before he scored. The stakes were extremely high.

“Shit,” Jay shuffled upwards, smiling apologetically at Jungwon’s irritated look. “I gotta go, guys. I promised dad I’d help him.” He stood up, shrugging on his sweater.

Sunghoon frowned, glancing at his phone. “It’s only five forty-five. Don’t you want to meet Y/n? You should stay for a bit.” 

Jay did want to meet you, and he wanted to see just how good you were at carpentry, but he had committed to his dad. Part of him didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay and waste time, but the softer part of him refused. He smiled at Sunghoon. “I’ll be back. I’ll try and stop by as soon as I’m done. I’ll keep you updated.”

He pocketed his phone and laughed as the other boys yelled out their goodbyes, all exaggerated and gross. Jake even grabbed his face and kissed him right on the forehead, which ended with Jay pushing him off, groaning as he wiped his cheek. 

“See you later, Jay!” Heeseung yelled, trying not to fall over. He lifted his head and grinned. “Thanks for the snacks, by the way. You’re such a good malewife.” 

Jay blinked as Jungwon and Riki shook with laughter. Heeseung often called Jay terms like that but it never made it easier to hear. Jay wanted to walk over and push both Riki and Heeseung over, making them both lose, but he just rolled his eyes and flipped them off. 

“See you.” 

Twenty minutes after Jay left, you and your cousin parked the car in Sunghoon’s driveway. You were excited as you reached in the back, grabbing all the tools you needed. You had taken an interest in carpentry after your mother had damaged her wall and didn’t have the heart to tell your father. After that, you realized it was pretty easy to do. 

Plus, it made you feel better about yourself. You didn’t need a man to do these things for you. You were fully capable and it eased the tension in your shoulders. A small, miniscule part of you wondered if all the skills you had gained were simply to compensate for everything else you lacked. 

Your cousin shut your car door as you balanced everything in your uncle’s toolbox. He didn’t even ask when you declared that you needed his tools. He simply sighed and told you to go crazy. 

Your cousin rang the doorbell and the door was instantly pulled open by Sunghoon, his entire body shaking with excitement. He pulled her into a long, passionate kiss and you just stood behind her, looking up. You cleared your throat once, then twice.

“Ahem,” you coughed. This time, your cousin heard you and pulled away, laughing at the pout on Sunghoon’s lips. She kissed him once more before throwing you an apologetic smile. She simply pushed past him and waved to you to follow.

You snickered at Sunghoon’s lovestruck expression as you walked by him, pulling him out of the trance he was under. He caught up to you and bumped shoulders with you, smiling at you. He glanced at the tools in your arm and shook his head, not wanting to even ask. 

You followed your cousin down the basement stairs and frowned at the uneven bumps and screws. When your feet landed on the cold floor, you turned back to the stairs. “You should really get carpet on those stairs, Sunghoon. It’s dangerous to have such uneven steps.”

The chatter behind you quietened and Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. You turned back to face him and found them all staring at you, curiosity swimming in their eyes. Your eyes drifted from Jake to Riki and you frowned. “What? Are you super sensitive about your stairs too?”

Sunghoon quietly shook his head, tilting it in thought. “No, you’re just not the first person to tell me that.”

You sighed in relief and shrugged. “Oh. Yeah, obviously.” You eyed the stairs again. “Those are some weird stairs.” You didn’t pay attention to the eyes on you as you walked further into the basement, putting down all the tools by the wall. Everyone else shared a curious look before going back to doing whatever they were doing “So who else has mentioned the stairs?”

“Jay,” Jake answered, shoving a piece of fruit in his mouth. “He’s always talking about them.”

You nodded, slowly understanding this Jay character. “Are you guys sure that Jay is real? All this talk and I have yet to meet him.”

Heeseung laughed, slapping his thigh. “Oh, he’s real. Very real.” 

Your cousin raised an eyebrow at Sunghoon. “Where is he?” Sunghoon shrugged, kissing her forehead. “Had to help his dad with something.” 

You turned around, smiling at everyone. You ignored the way your cousin and Sunghoon took up the whole couch and walked to Jungwon and Riki, sitting in between them. They hugged you and you ruffled Riki’s hair, holding yourself back from pinching his cheek. You all watched as Jake and Sunoo played an intense game of twister. 

You quickly fixed the hole in the wall, a bit nervous because of all the eyes on you. It didn’t help that everyone refused to let you hold the drywall knife even though you had only had one mishap with a knife years ago. Once it was done, Sunghoon nodded in approval and you felt accomplished.

Later, the basement was filled with laughter and music, a comfortable blanket of warmth covering the coldness of the evening. You finished your slider before looking up at Jungwon. “Hey,” you mumbled. “Who made all the snacks?” You knew how far Heeseung and Sunghoon’s skills went, and this seemed to surpass them.

“Oh, that would be Jay Hyung. He’s our resident chef.”

You nodded, in thought. You still had to meet Jay. He was supposed to come the other night but he never showed up. You thought you knew him, though, with how often the boys mentioned him. You had heard of Jay before, too. Somehow, you always seemed to miss him. He almost didn’t seem real. Despite Heeseung confirming that he was. 

“He’s a really good cook,” you shoved a dumpling in your mouth. You weren’t the best cook, despite your constant efforts. You could follow a recipe closely enough, but you didn’t have that natural talent that you assumed Jay had. 

After you had lost the game of Twister with your cousin, you sat on the sofa with Riki and Sunghoon. You leaned into Sunghoon and he wrapped his arm around you. To him, you were like a cousin. Someone he didn’t have to see or talk to all the time, but knew that when you did, things would be fun. Riki laid slumped against you. He didn’t usually get comfortable so quickly with strangers but he already knew you from the stories, and you thought he was just the cutest.

You watched as your cousin tried beating Sunoo and Jake at Mario Kart, but all you could do was laugh. She was horrible at it, but she was smiling and having fun. You knew Heeseung was just itching to grab the controller out her hand and you parted your lips to make a comment when your wrist hurt.

You glanced down at your right wrist and your eyes widened when the slight stinging pain turned into something warmer. You gripped your wrist and held your breath when the J on your wrist turned a solid, dark blue. You gasped at the colour, immediately standing upright. You caught the attention of everyone in the room and they stared at you.

You glanced at your cousin with wide, frightened eyes. What was happening? You rubbed the letter, wondering if you were seeing this. No, no, this can’t be.

“Y/n?” She dropped the controller, slowly standing up. She walked to you and grabbed your wrist, gasping at the blue letter. Suddenly, everything around you became quiet and loud at the same time. Everyone stood up and surrounded you, eyes wide as they stared at your wrist. 

Heeseung laughed, biting his fist in excitement. Sunoo and Riki shared a look of disbelief. Jungwon could only gape with Jake, neither hadn’t actually witnessed a tethering in real life. 

Your cousin said your name softly, pulling you out of your haze. She smiled at you and grabbed your other hand. “Y/n. Listen to me,” she squeezed your wrists. “Do you know what this means?”

Numb, you could only nod. When your Soulmate is close, your letter turns blue. The two letters then tether together a string of fate that tries to pull both Soulmates together. The string is invisible to everyone but them, and is inevitable once it has appeared.

“Can you see the string?”

You blinked and looked down at your wrist, eyes widening as a blue string appeared in front of your eyes, connecting your letter J with someone else’s wrist. Your eyes followed the blues hue until you glanced at the basement stairs. 

“This is so exciting,” Riki whispers, earning a shove from Sunghoon. He could see the turmoil on your face. The hesitance and the need that swirled in your eyes. Any second now, and you would begin to–

Breathing heavily, you yanked your wrists from your cousin's hold and booked it upstairs, running towards your Soulmate. Your cousin stared at where you once stood before she yelled your name, running after you. Sunghoon and Heeseung followed, calling both your names.

Panicked, Jake grabbed the car keys and ran after them. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki followed him, all four of them scrambling up the stairs to the front door. Jake watched as the four of you ran down the street and decided it would be better to have one car. He shoved the three younger boys in the back and quickly pulled out of the driveway. 

You ran as fast as you could. There was a red car driving ahead of you, and you knew it belonged to your Soulmate. It had not gotten far when you ran out the front door, but now it was leaving you in its wake.

Blood pumped to your head as your lungs burned. You could hear your cousin, Sunghoon, and Heeseung behind you but you didn’t care. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, all that you knew was that you needed to see him. To touch him. It was as if a centuries old feeling had overtaken you, throwing all common sense out the window as primal need and want swirled inside of you.

Abruptly, the car came to a stop in the middle of the road. The blue string tightened as you neared the car, out of breath and sweaty. Slowing down, you began heaving in deep breaths when you were only twenty meters away from the car. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon caught up to you, huffing and sweaty. Heeseung put his hand on your shoulder as the three of you caught your breath, your cousin now speed walking to you. His eyes narrowed at the familiar license plate and he shared a look with Sunghoon, both holding their tongues. 

Your eyes were focused solely on the driver side of the red car. You didn’t care about the model or the plate, just the person who drove it. Your heart was beating so loudly in your chest you could feel it in your fingernails. You were still out of breath but it had nothing to do with running. Your Soulmate sat in that car and you had no choice but to meet him. 

Your cousin reached you and put her hand on your other shoulder. She was excited and nervous but she could feel the tension rolling off of you in waves. She squinted at the car and gasped, immediately being shushed by Heeseung and Sunghoon. Somewhere behind you, a car had been parked. You could hear other voices join the cloud of noise in your mind. 

“Y/n,” Heeseung whispered. “Don’t be scared. I promise you that he’s a good guy. There’s nothing like meeting your soulmate for the first time.” He squeezed your shoulder. “Remember, he is perfect for you.” 

You nodded, tears in your eyes. You had imagined this scenario many times in your head but it was never real. You knew that realistically you had a Soulmate but you never expected to meet him so young. Now, with hundreds of emotions clashing inside you, the only one you could identify was longing. 

Slowly, you put one foot in front of the other until you slowly started getting closer to the car. You stopped after a few steps, hands shaking as you realized that only you were moving. You purse your lips at the thought of your Soulmate not wanting to meet you.

“He doesn’t want me,” you mumbled. You took a step back but your cousin’s chest stopped you. She stood directly behind you and held both your shoulders, a frown on her lips. “What? Y/n, of course he does. He’s probably just as nervous as you.” 

You shook your head, trying to ignore the blue string that looked so tempting, so inviting. “He’s not even moving.” You tugged your hand back, wincing when the letter burned for a second. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Dumbass,” Sunghoon whispered, rolling his eyes. Of all the moments he chose to be slow, this is what prevailed? Sunghoon wanted to drag him out of the car and shake him until he reached his senses. 

Heeseung grabbed a small pebble from the road and eyed it. He glanced at Sunghoon who only shrugged. Nodding to himself, Heeseung threw the pebble right at the car. You watched as the small stone hit the car’s back window with a quiet smack!

However small the stone, it did its job. You held your breath as the figure inside the car moved. You watched with wide, shiny eyes as he slowly opened the car door and stepped out. Your eyes travelled from his black boots up his dark blue jeans. You eyed the black sweater before you glanced at the side of his face. Your entire body shook and you audibly gasped when he slammed the door closed, turning to you.

Your shiny eyes met his dark brown ones and everything around you stopped. All the noise disappeared and the presence of others behind you no longer existed. It was just you and him. It was always going to be you and him.

Jay was frozen. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, his palms sweaty as he tried to breathe. He had driven to Sunghoon’s house and parked, before he realized he forgot his phone at home. He pulled out of his driveway and began to drive when his wrist burned and the letter turned blue. In shock, he kept his foot on the pedal, unable to process anything.

It was only when he saw your figure in the rearview camera that he parked his car, breathing heavily. He blinked a few times, mouth dry, as he stared at you. You stood in front of him, hands trembling and so beautiful. He ignored the audience behind you, his sole focus on you. 

You were so beautiful, so perfect. His heart swelled in his chest and he was sure this wasn’t healthy. His lungs almost burst and his hands twitched. He needed to do something. He needed to see you up close, touch your face. This couldn’t be, Jay wanted to shout. She’s too pretty. 

You swallowed as you stared at him. He was beautiful. With his strong jaw and sharp eyebrows that were covered by his black hair. Your eyes trailed his face, memorizing the shape of his nose and lips and his broad shoulders. 

He looked so big and strong and yet so gentle, you almost collapsed. His tan skin made you want to kiss him, and the way he was staring at you, eyes wide and twinkly, made you think he wanted the same.

The blue string tightened and pulled you both into each other, impatient; you started moving towards him and he started moving towards you. Neither of you had any control over your limbs as fate pulled you both together, space lessening. 

Jay broke into a run, needing to breathe you in. He almost called out to you when you began running towards him, wanting you to save your breath because he was coming to you. Breathless, you both stopped in front of each other, eyes locked on the other. 

You were shorter than him, and when you looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with trepidation and excitement, Jay’s knees buckled. You smiled at him, at the closeness, breathing in his scent. He was so handsome, masculine features mixed with soft, angelic ones. At your smile, all of Jay’s initial worries melted. As long as you smiled at him, he knew he would be okay. 

“Hi,” you whispered. Your voice, soft and anxious, brushed against his chin. You wanted to reach out to him, touch his sharp jaw. Your blue letter itched, the need to turn red weighed heavily on both of you. 

Jay smiled and you melted, all your insecurities and indifference dissipating. How could you have had any qualms about this? About him? He was perfect to you, from his smile to his trembling hands. 

“Hi, pretty.” Jay inched closer to you, tips of his shoes touching yours. Your cheeks felt warm at the term, knowing he genuinely meant it. He was staring at you with so much passion, heat infused into eyes. 

Slowly, you reached up. Your right hand slowly inching towards your face. Jay watched you closely, wanting to paint a perfect picture of you in his mind. His eyes briefly glanced at the blue J on your wrist and his smile deepened. That’s right, he thought. You were his and he was yours. 

Gently, you cupped his cheek and you both winced in pleasure as your wrists began to burn. He leaned into your hand and it felt like all the stress you had been harboring for years had lifted off your chest. Your heart felt lighter and fuller and when you breathed, it felt like you had taken your first breath of fresh air. 

Jay closed his eyes as his wrist burned. He nuzzled his face into your warm hand, tears pricking his eyes as all of his hardships and insecurities melted away. He suddenly felt like he could rule the world, like he deserved everything good the world had to offer. 

He felt like he deserved you; someone so beautiful and soft, with a kind smile and wide eyes. 

Jay lifted his right wrist, keeping it parallel to yours. You both watched as the letters turned permanently red, something warm swirling in your stomachs. Once the burning lessened, you tried pulling your hand away but Jay caught your wrist, keeping your hand on his face. He lifted your other hand to his face and you grinned when his eyes fluttered shut. 

You rubbed his jaw, silently impressed by the sharpness. Everything felt warm and electric. You could feel your insides turn to mush when he smiled at you, his eyes lighting up. His lips looked so soft, so plump. Without thinking, you ran your thumb across his bottom lip, transfixed by the pinkness. Jay almost whimpered at the feeling, his entire face warming up. 

With an urgency Jay had never felt before, his hands gently came up to your waist. His eyes squinted in question and you nodded, needing his hands on you. His strong hands rested on your waist, pulling you in closer to him.

“I know we have a lot to talk about,” Jay’s voice brushed against your lips, “but I might pass away if I don’t kiss you.” His eyes were filled with adoration, desperation leaking into his hold. 

You nodded, pulling his face closer to yours. “Kiss me,” you begged. You didn’t even mind the audience behind you, knowing that they didn’t matter. Nothing did, not when his lips hovered over yours. 

Jay smiled as he pressed his lips against yours. You gasped into his mouth, a wave of emotions crashing into you, pushing you further into him. The warmth in your chest erupted, spreading over your whole body as he kissed you. His lips softly pressed against yours and he pulled away. Before you could think, you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him back, slamming your lips against his. 

You could feel his heart beating and knew yours was beating just as loudly. Jay pulled you flush against him, kissing you back just as hard. He had never felt like this before. He had never wanted to fall to his knees in devotion the way he wanted to right now. He could have if your grip on him wasn’t so strong.

Everything inside you begged for your hands to roam, to touch his body. But you couldn’t. Not yet. You didn’t even know his name. With a heavy heart, you pulled away, panting into his mouth. Your eyes were still closed when he rested his forehead against yours, both breathing the other in. 

“I called this,” a familiar voice said behind you. 

Jay opened his eyes first and couldn’t help but smile at your expression; lips plump and eyes shut. You looked breathtaking. He almost pressed another kiss to your inviting lips but his eyes glanced to the side and he froze. All his friends, all your friends, were staring at him with goofy smiles and mischievous eyes. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes and Jay looked back at you. You smiled shyly at him before looking down. He still held you close to his chest, his hands warm on your waist. Your hand was still gripping his sweater and cupping his cheek. You didn’t have it in you to let go. 

“Everyone’s staring,” you whispered. “Aren’t they?” 

Jay nodded, a soft smile on his face. You wanted to kiss it. Your heart couldn’t handle it. It was such a beautifully sculpted smile, the edges of his lips turned upwards as his eyes shone. “They are.” He narrowed his eyes slightly at them. “Do you want me to tell them to go?”

You shook your head. You knew you were still in the middle of the street but if you were alone with him, you may get yourself in trouble. He was too much. You didn’t trust yourself enough, part of you knew that you wouldn’t mind if he began to strip you. “It’s okay. They wouldn’t leave, anyways.”

Jay tilted his head, his head filled with clouds of desire and affection. He licked his lips and tried not to smirk when your eyes fell on them, wide with curiosity. “I know I should have asked before, but what’s your name, pretty?” 

You laughed, smiling in embarrassment. If Jay could have bottled the sound, he would have. If he could have bottled it, he would have worn it around his neck, wanting to keep it close to his heart. He had heard many laughs over the years, but none that sounded as beautiful as yours. 

“Y/n,” you answered. You grazed his cheek with your thumb, not noticing the way his eyes widened. “My name’s Y/n.” You looked up at Jay and frowned at his surprised expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and you purse your lips. “What? What is it?”

“You’re Y/n? The Y/n?” 

Slowly, you nodded. “Yes? I’m sorry,” you pulled your head back, “you know who I am?”

Jay opened his mouth to answer but then paused. Disbelief bubbling in his chest. He glanced back at Sunghoon and Heeseung’s pleased faces and realized he hadn’t answered you. Shaking his head, he laughed. You simply watched him in confusion as laughter took over his body, his eyes tearing up. 

“I’m Jay,” he finally answered. He watched as the information processed in your mind, watched as your lips parted and your eyes grew. You stared at him like he was a magical creature and he wondered if he was looking at you the same way. 

“You’re Jay?” You grabbed his chin, turning his head back and forth, trying to sear his face into your mind. “As in, the Jay who always complains about the stairs and cooks?”

Amused, Jay simply nods. You both stare at each other in wonder, hundreds of emotions brimming underneath the surface while unspoken words sit in between you. All those years that you had missed each other, all those occasions that could have been. 

“So, isn’t this interesting?” 

You broke your eye contact with Jay and turned at the sound of Heeseung’s pleased voice. You smiled as they all walked up to you, happiness shining in their eyes. Jay rolled his eyes before he stepped beside you, his arm still around your waist. 

Your cousin grinned at you and you smiled back, still in shock. She stepped towards you and you moved away from Jay, wrapping your arms around her. She hugged you tight, whispering quiet nothings to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears on the verge of spilling. She pulled away and you wiped a tear that escaped her. No words were exchanged because you already knew. You could feel it. You understood it all now. She simply kissed your cheek and smiled at Jay. 

Sunghoon ruffled your hair and you frowned, slapping his hand. He grinned at you before bumping his shoulder against Jay’s. Jungwon and Sunoo hugged you, congratulating you. Jake pressed a soft kiss to your head, telling you how proud he was. Riki was crying and you hugged him. You rubbed his back as he sobbed, as the true emotional baby he was. 

You teased Riki, whispering quiet phrases of encouragement before he let you go. This was the first time he had watched Soulmates meet and it was beautiful. He wanted to find his own so badly. 

Quietly, Jay stepped beside you, his hand resting on your lower back. He needed you close to him. While he appreciated all his friends and their teasing and jabs, he really just wanted you alone. He wanted to get to know you, to know you beyond the stories he had heard. He wanted to memorize your taste and your smile. He wanted to begin his forever. 

You smiled at him and realized that his eyes were bright with something else. Something dangerous. You turned your head, facing Heeseung as Jungwon recalled his joke from the other night. Your entire body felt warm and you tried to ignore his body heat beside you. 

Your cousin, being the best person to exist, noticed the quietness between you both and she nudged Sunghoon. With a single raised eyebrow, he understood her unspoken words and nodded. He cleared his throat, interrupting Heeseung. “Maybe we should give them some space? Jake, let's take your car back.” He winked at Jay and winced when your cousin elbowed him. 

Jake nodded, understanding how important this moment was. He fetched his keys from his pocket and clapped his hands. “Okay! Everyone who’s not Jay or Y/n back to my car. Pick the laps you want to sit on.” 

You and Jay watched as the seven of them walked away, arguing and laughing. You stood in the middle of the road until you could no longer see Jake’s care. Your breathing had gotten deeper, a bubble of anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. 

Jay turned his head and looked at you, suddenly nervous. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him, smiling. “Have you eaten? Do you want to get something to eat? Or drink?” 

Your smile widens at his words. He was just as nervous as you were. It calms you down a bit, knowing you didn’t have to pretend with him. “I could eat.” You admit. Jay’s eyes soften and he nods. He slowly pulls you to his car and you follow him, nervous. 

“I can’t believe you almost drove away from me,” you teased. Jay’s ears turned red and you laughed, finding him adorable. As you neared his car, Jay’s shoulders dropped. 

“I was nervous,” he admitted. “And a bit scared. I didn’t expect to find you like that.” 

You nodded in understanding because you did understand. Still, you purse your lips. “You’re not still nervous, are you?” You wanted to keep your own insecurities out of your tone but he caught them. “I mean, you’re not upset that you found me, are you?”

Jay stilled at your words. You didn’t even notice until your hand slightly grazed the roof of his car. You turned, only to find Jay in front of you. He stepped towards you and your back hit the side of his car. You looked up at him, surprised. He caged you in, arm on either side of you.

Your throat dried at his closeness and his eyes; gosh, his eyes. Dark and blown wide with fondness and desire. He dipped his head down to yours until his breath made your ear tingle. 

“Y/n, you have no idea how happy I am. My heart is about to burst out of my chest and I am one second away from bursting into tears.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “I want to touch you all over, learn everything about you, but I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He pulled back, smiling gently at you as if he didn’t just ignite a fire in your whole body.

Your eyes shut at his words, knowing you had mistaken his hesitant demeanor. He watched as you breathed his scent in, wanting to coat yourself in his smell. The intensity of your want was killing you. Is this how it felt for all Soulmates? 

You opened your eyes and Jay almost fell to his knees at the need and want in your eyes. He felt the exact same way, but he wanted to be patient. He wanted to spend more time with you, learn more about you, before he made love to you. He wanted to be a gentleman, someone who you wouldn’t mind calling your Soulmate. 

Jay kissed you, smiling when you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pushed into you, wanting to feel every crevice of your body. Your hands pushed into his hair, pulling him closer to you. All you wanted was him. 

When you pulled at his hair, Jay pulled away, breathing heavily. He pressed a soft kiss to your pout, unable to help himself. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling when you kissed his cheek. 

“We have forever, love.” He kissed your nose. “Let’s take things slow. Let me treat you well.”

a/n: its finally done! this is for the lovely @luvkpopp who requested soulmates! if you guys like this, i’m open to writing a soulmate au for all of hyung line!

#enha!writings #╰┈➤ park jongseong #✦ A Fated World; Soulmates #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jay #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x female reader #jay enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #jay soft hours #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #jay x reader #jay fluff #jay park fluff #jay angst #enha jay #enha x you #enha smut #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha imagines #park jongseong fic #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong #park jongseong x you #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader

[sweetercalypso]

Texas Hold ‘Em || Joel Miller

Summary: when a heatwave interrupts your lake house vacation, you and dbf!Joel find another way to have some fun

Word Count: 2.4k

Notes: minors dni; stripping, blowjob, unprotected p in v sex, pull-out method, reader on top, implied age gap, afab reader, mentions of alcohol and drinking

Summer in Texas is hot.

Cracked asphalt sidewalks burn underfoot, paired with sharp, dry grass that pricks at your skin when you stray off the path in search of relief.

The sun is too bright, the air is unbearably warm, and the humidity is enough to take your breath away.

Days like this are best spent inside.

With an impending heat wave looming in the forecast, it seems like summer might pass by entirely before you have the chance to enjoy your break. Joel Miller – a drinking buddy your dad had picked up in recent years – had offered you a trip to his lakeside cabin with the promise that a cold drink and a dip in the water would be the perfect remedy for the high temperatures.

You’d arrived three days ago, and every afternoon since had brought a thick, sweltering heat that made it impossible to pull yourself away from the comfort of the living room. Even the calm, inviting waves lapping gently at the lake’s edge weren’t enough to tempt you back outdoors to fry under the brutal sun.

The only solution was to sulk inside, bitterly cherishing the tiny air conditioner working overtime to keep you cool. Joel didn’t seem outwardly bothered by the heat, but you could tell he preferred to stay indoors, too.

“S’posed to be in the high 90’s today,” he says, strolling into the living room with his attention turned to the vivid landscape beyond the patio doors. “But it’s so humid, it’ll feel like a hundred.”

You tip your head back and let out a dramatic groan, resenting the prospect of another day spent inside. You liked Joel, and his cabin was nice, but you wanted nothing more than to feel the sun on your skin, to be submerged in the cool, twinkling lake like you’d been promised.

“Can’t we go sit by the water, just for a little while?”

His mouth turns down at the corners, frowning as he thinks. “That’s up to you, darlin’. Just don’t want you gettin’ burnt up out there.”

You know he’s right. Even from the comfort of the living room, you could tell that it was too hot to venture outside. The handful of other cabins scattered around the lake were all vacant for the season, driveways sitting empty and abandoned canoes rocking idly at the pier.

“How ‘bout we find something else to do? Don’t have to sit here bored just ‘cause we’re stuck inside.”

Joel’s cabin was barely furnished beyond the necessities – an outdated kitchen, a stiff living room set, and a couple beds tucked away in otherwise empty rooms. But you couldn’t complain.

No one comes to a lake house to admire the décor.

He perches himself on the other end of the couch and you move to sit up beside him. “What d’you want to do?”

“Well,” he drawls, stalling as he looks around for an answer. “There’s cold beer in the fridge. Got a deck of cars around here somewhere. That could be a good start.”

“Beer and poker? Sounds like quite the party.”

“Hey,” he laughs, hands raised in mock offense. “It’s the best I can do for now.”

Your head tilts as you consider his offer.

Joel was handsome, aged like fine wine with a glint in his eye that spoke of a hidden depth you’d like to explore. Maybe you could have some fun this summer after all.

“All right,” you decide, slipping off the couch with newfound interest. “You find the cards, I’ll get the beer.”

Five minutes later and you’re sitting across the cabin’s small, circular kitchen table, dealing cards from the worn-out deck that Joel had pulled from the junk drawer.  

“Poker, huh?” He grabs his drink by the neck of the bottle. “We don’t have any chips, though. How are we gonna know who wins?”

You place the rest of the deck to the side and pick up the two cards you’d been dealt, fingertips gliding over their frayed, softened corners. “I know another way we can play.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Instead of winning poker chips, whoever has the best hand picks something for the other person to take off. If you refuse, you lose.”

“So, strip poker?” he says with a dry laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. Besides – as hot as it is, we don’t need clothes anyway.”

Joel shrugs and tips back his drink, thinking about the day you’d arrived at the cabin, still clinging to your hopes of having the perfect vacation.

Stubbornly glued to the beach towel you’d placed at the edge of the water, sweat glistening on your bare skin, donning a swimsuit that would’ve made a lesser man blush – he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested.  

“Okay, fine.” He concedes and rests his forearms against the table, a wry grin pulling at his features. “But I’ll have you know, I’m very good at poker.”

Four rounds later, and Joel had yet to live up to his claim. Maybe it was just the luck of the cards, or maybe you’d spent enough time observing the man’s expressions to call his bluff, but you’d won every hand so far.

The first round was a close call – a full house versus three-of-a-kind. You’d chosen Joel’s watch to ease into the game, and he’d stared you down with a fire in his eyes as he placed it face-up on the table.

Next, you’d doubled down and won with an ace high, and Joel had been relieved of his shoes and his belt, which he’d dropped onto the floor with the promise of a comeback. The third hand played out the same way and you’d demanded his flannel, stealing glances at his toned arms as he handed over your reward.

By the fourth turn, you were reeling from the high of your winning streak and ready to make your move.

“I thought you said you were good at this, Mr. Miller.” You bat your lashes at him with an exaggerated simper as he deals out the next hand.

“I’m a pro, sweetheart. Just thought I’d let you have your fun.”

Throughout the round, your attention flickers back and forth between your cards and the man sitting across from you. Joel’s left with only his t-shirt and jeans to gamble away, and while you’re deciding which to relieve him of next, he slaps his cards down with a boisterous laugh.

“Well, would you look at that – a royal flush.”

A king and queen lay strewn out on the table, their stony, time-worn faces taunting you with their triumph. You’d been too distracted to notice that the community cards all shared a common suit, lining up perfectly with the cards Joel had been dealt.

He sucks in a slow breath and looks over you in careful consideration, debating what to take for his win. Finally, he gestures to your top and says, “take it off”.  

Still shocked by the unanticipated loss, you place your cards down with a huff and shrug the thin material over your head without complaint. The sunlight glaring through the windows warms your exposed skin as you reveal yourself to Joel’s unwavering stare.

You toss your shirt at his chest and he catches it with a raised brow, eyes tracing over the curve of your breasts before trailing gradually back to your face. He adds your top to the growing pile of clothes littering the floor around his chair. When he speaks, his voice is low in his throat, like he’d finally understood your plan.

“Just beautiful, darlin’,” he says under his breath. “How ‘bout we raise the stakes a bit?”

“What’d you have in mind?”

His jaw tenses as he mulls over his options. “If I win, you come over here and use that pretty mouth for something other than trash talkin’. If you win, I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

You bite your lip to hold back the pleased grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. Either way, you’re bound to have a good time.

“Sounds like a deal, cowboy.”

A palpable tension fills the air as Joel shuffles the deck with a renewed confidence. He lays out the sequence and flips the first three over, and it doesn’t seem like the cards are in your favor.

It’s an aimless, faceless group, and the next two aren’t much better. None of your cards pair together, and there’s nothing to do but accept your fate.

You muck your hand onto the pile with a mumbled profanity, waiting for Joel to flaunt his win. When he drops his own useless cards in the middle of the table, you look up to find him just as perplexed as you.

It’s a tie.

Neither of you have enough to make a decent hand, leaving the game in a dead heat. All this built-up tension relying on this pivotal round, and it’s a tie.

“Well,” Joel says, scratching absently at the salt and pepper stubble lining his cheeks. “I’d say it’s a draw.”

“So, who wins?”

He thinks for a moment before leaning back in his chair and not-so-subtly positioning his knees with room for you to sit in between them. “I think we both win.”

You take the glaringly obvious suggestion and pull yourself out of your seat, slinking around the table to situate yourself between Joel’s legs.

“Claim your prize, Mr. Miller.”

Your hands sweep over his thighs as he pops open the button of his jeans and drags his thickening cock from the confines of his boxers. Beaded precum drools from the tip as he languidly palms his shaft.   

The sight of his digits running over the length of his cock is hypnotizing – rough, calloused fingers against warm, flushed skin. A burning fire builds in your core as you imagine how his cock would feel inside of you.

“Open up for me, sugar.”

He cups your jaw with his free hand and guides you closer until his salty head rests against the plush of your bottom lip. When your tongue darts out to trace the vein on the underside of his cock, he groans and inches forward in his seat.

“Fuck- take it all.”

You eagerly bob over his length and Joel revels in your rapt attention, in the way you dedicate yourself to the task at hand.

“Such a nice mouth,” he pants, prodding the head of his cock against the inside of your cheek and admiring the protrusion it creates. Your fingers twist into the material of his jeans and you chastise yourself for not starting the game with a bolder approach.

Joel’s hips buck against your face as he dips his cock further into your mouth, lingering briefly on the back of your tongue before hesitantly pulling back with a hiss.

“As much as I’d like to keep you down there all day, we’d better stop now if you want your reward.”

You’d almost forgotten about the bet you’d made, too preoccupied with swallowing Joel’s length to remember how you’d gotten into this position in the first place.

He holds a hand out to help you up, and you lick the remnants of his presence from your lips.

“Where d’you want me?” He trails a hand over your arm, sending a shiver up the length of your spine.

“Here,” you say with impressive ambition. “Right here in this chair, just like I’ve pictured all evening.”

“Yeah? Gonna ride my cock right here in the kitchen?”

You nod with conviction and Joel grins as his hands move to the button of your jeans. He yanks the material down past your thighs, fingers hooked into the waist band of you underwear to leave you bare in one move.

“This too,” you mention with a tug to his t-shirt. You want to see everything while you have the chance – who knows how many times a simple game of poker will amount to this.

Your jeans pool at your feet and you step out of them while Joel throws his shirt somewhere off to the side, dark curls sticking up in odd directions from the fabric disrupting their shape.

He leans back against the chair and holds your waist while you position yourself in his lap, his cock twitching with interest as it brushes against your skin. You’re not sure who’s more eager for what’s to come – you or the man beneath you.  

Joel laments the lost opportunity of taking you apart on his fingers and his mouth, but there’s no delaying the zealous way you sink down onto his cock. That’s alright, he thinks with a choked noise, there’s always next time.

His thick length parts your walls with a delicious pressure, nudging against your sweet spot when you settle completely onto his lap. You’re still for a moment as you adjust to the strain, chest heaving with the effort of keeping yourself upright.

“Oh, fuck- you feel perfect.”

Joel’s hands travel up your sides until his warm palms find the swell of your tits. He leans in to sweep messy, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat, distracting himself with your heavy breath until you’re ready to move.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting in greedy impatience, you regain your strength enough to wrap your thighs around his waist, molding yourself to his frame as you lift up halfway before coming back down, smearing slick over his skin.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Take what you need.”

Your pace quickens each time you raise off his cock, coming back down and grinding against his pelvis in one fluid motion. His broad, freckled shoulders are warm under your hands, an anchor for the rhythmic cycle of your hips over his.

“M’not gonna last much longer.”

You pant as his hand abandons your breast to stroke circles against your puffy clit, carrying you to the precipice of your release.

When your movements falter and you crumple against his chest, Joel picks up where you left off. He thrusts up into you in search of his pleasure, grunting as your walls flex around him.

Just as he’s about to tip over the edge, he slides his length free and grips the base with a tight fist, rubbing the head of his cock against your balmy skin as he paints the evidence of his arousal over your naval.

The air is filled with a litany of lewd sounds, pants and sighs overlapping in your equal states of bliss. Joel’s softening cock rests against your thigh as you run your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and he flattens a hand against the arch of your back, both thinking about how fortunate it was that Joel suggested a card game to cure your mutual boredom.

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel x you #joel smut #tlou joel #tlou #the last of us smut #the last of us x reader #tlou smut #tlou x reader

[bakvrue]

“Hey! Wait up!”

Bakugou looks over his shoulder and sees you waive your arm as you run out of the training building behind him.

He exhales, frosty breath making a grumpy cloud in front of him. He was the last to leave for a reason, or so he thought.

He doesn't stop walking but he slows his steps until you catch up to him. Your winter coat is haphazardly thrown on, and the laces of your boots aren't tied, rather they're tucked into your boots. Would probably be dangerous if you slipped on the ice.

“Hey, thanks for waiting.” Your breath comes out in short puffs. “I was worried about walking back in the dark alone and then I heard the locker room door close. Grabbed my stuff and ran out. I had a feeling it might have been you.”

“What were you doin’ there so late anyways? Why didn't you go back with everyone else?”

Katsuki can feel your eyes on him, almost as if you're surveying him, looking for something hidden in his features. He keeps his heart steady, praying that it's dark enough now you can't see the way his ears warm under your gaze.

You sigh, frustrated, defeated. “I haven't been able to get one of my new moves down right. What I'm trying to do is do a kick and then send the force of my quirk through my heel. But every way i try to kick either ends up with me on my ass or in a position that leaves me vulnerable right after or leaves me with my heel not in the right spot. I end up off-balance no matter what.”

You take your hat out of your bag, pull it over your eyes and let out a frustrated sound in annoyance. Almost like an angry cat.

Katsuki has watched you train, hell he's even gone up against you. He knows how strong you are. If this is something bothering you maybe it has to do with form? Or flexibility?

“Can you do a pistol squat?”

You stop walking, “A what?”

He turns and puts his bag on the sidewalk. “It's a really deep one legged squat.”

He balances on one leg, and then lowers himself slowly. His other leg extends in front of him and his body lowers so that his femur is parallel to the ground at knee length.

“Yeah I cannot do that,” you laugh. “I'm pretty sure my knees would explode.”

“Try it.”

“Do you want to see me fall in my ass? In the snow? Are you evil?”

He raises his eyebrows and you already know his response.

“Fine, let me try.” You put your bag down next to him and take a deep breath of the chilly night air.

One leg out, arms out for balance. Lower yourself, slowly, slowly… slow…

“WAA”

Your body falls backwards, your arms swinging around for anything to save you, panic setting in quickly.

Hands connect with yours just before your ass would have hit the cement.

You open your eyes, not even realizing that they squeezed shut, and you see Katsuki's hands holding yours.

Your heart thumps in your chest, your cheeks instantly hot enough to melt snow.

Katsuki's gaze follows yours, and he quickly looks away. But he doesn't let go.

“You good?” His cheeks and the tips of his ears flush.

“I— yeah, I'm good.”

He pulls you up, and both of you grab your bags.

“We should probably get back before Iida yells at us about curfew.”

“Right, let's go.”

#💕.katsuki #bakugou x reader

[wearywinchester]

In the Rain

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When Dean forgets to pick you up, the pouring rain is relentless on your walk back home.

Warnings: angst, arguing, fluff

You waited in the library entrance for at least half an hour by yourself, the downpour outside only getting heavier the more time that went by. Dean had told you he would pick you up from campus at around six, you even reminded him earlier that day for that matter. But the closer it got to seven the more you figured he wouldn’t show up.

He was never late.

The tears were welling up by now and you stood up, frustratedly slinging your bag over your shoulders before you pushed open the heavy glass door. You didn’t have an umbrella, and your hood didn’t do you any good as you rushed along the sidewalk, your thoughts starting to get the better of you.

Maybe it was just an honest mistake and he forgot. Or maybe he didn’t really care and found something better to do. Your mind tricked you into believing that was the only possible explanation.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly to stay as warm as possible, the rain quickly soaking through your jacket. The wind was damn near impossible the bear, putting chills straight through to your bones. It was nearly dark and your heart was pounding at the thought of being alone.

You were thankful when you saw your apartment complex, and you were thankful it wasn’t a lengthier walk, picking up your already fast pace, sighing once you got inside.

Your shoes made an uncomfortable sloshing sound with each step you took, clothes sticking your your skin along with the fall weather nearly making you freeze. Not to mention the stares you had gotten in the lobby.

When you stepped in your apartment you locked the door behind you, taking off your backpack. While you were opening it you could already see the rain soaked through pretty much everything, your text book pages having been wrinkled and warped, and the months worth of notes you had taken since the new quarter looked the same as your book, the words you’d written now bleeding into each other till it was barely understandable.

You threw everything down with an angry groan, backpack thudding to the floor in a pathetic mess. Then your phone vibrated, then again, and again. When you looked you saw messages from Dean, and it only made you more frustrated, tossing your phone on the bed before you stomped off to your bathroom. You hadn’t bothered to read them, not yet.

It was next to impossible trying to get out of your clothes, your arms growing tired trying to get your long sleeve shirt off and the anger was enough to send you over the edge. The tears you had been holding back flowed now, steady one after another down your cheeks as you put the last item of soaked clothing in the hamper, wrapping a clean towel around yourself.

If Sam weren’t over at Stanford, he’d pick you up, you thought to yourself. Maybe you were being over dramatic about it all. But it was just the icing on the cake after the crappy day you’d had. And it had left your insecurities to run ramped and you were too tired to rationalize it.

Just as you pulled your sweatshirt over your head your phone rang again. “Stop calling me, Dean.”

“Sweetheart, would you just let me explain?”

“Explain what? You forgot about me. That’s it. I walked home because you forgot. If you don’t care, that’s fine.”

With that you hung up before your voice could give out and let him know you’d been crying.

No, it was not fine.

With a huff you climbed into bed, switching on the tv to try and distract yourself. Fighting with Dean was never something either of you wanted to do, and it didn't happen very often. It was over something so trivial too the more you thought about it. He never picked you up, didn’t even tell you he’d be late. Nothing. You had a right to be a little upset with him, maybe not quite so harsh but you’d already yelled at him now.

Sighing, you pressed play on the remote and tossed it to the empty space next to you, scooting down beneath the blankets. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't focus on the show you'd put on, too in your head about him. After all, you never let him explain, though you were sure your insecurities wouldn’t listen. The whole situation was a mess, torn between playing into your thoughts of if he really even cared about it and being understanding of what had happened. Your head spun with every thought and scenario and you sighed, rubbing your eyes frustratedly.

It’d been about an hour, a knock at your door waking you from your half sleep a little startled. You checked the clock on your phone, 9:23 pm. And there were more messages and calls from Dean. You got up, heading for the door, heart skipping a beat when you opened it. You nearly slammed it in his face but he caught it with his foot and you rolled your eyes, turning to walk back to your room.

“Sweetheart,” He drew out, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that,” You grumbled.

“Hey,” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around to face him, face softening at the sight of your tears. “You know I wouldn’t do that on purpose, don’t you?”

You were quiet, looking anywhere but at him as you tried to tug your arm out of his grip. When you did, you retreated back to your room but of course he followed.

“Just leave me alone, Dean. You don’t have to pretend you care,” you snapped, hating the way your voice cracked.

“Y/n, Bobby needed an extra hand at the shop and I lost track of time. Will you stop being so dramatic?” He said a little louder.

He immediately regretted the words the moment the leave his mouth. Dean Winchester, notorious for saying stupid things, notorious for not thinking before he speaks.

“Dramatic? Screw you, Dean. I didn’t ask you to come here and yell at me.” You turned away before he could really see you cry.

He was quiet then, probably because he knew you were right, tears running down your cheeks again. He knew he messed up just now, and he knew he messed up a few hours ago. And getting defensive the way he does certainly adds fuel to the fire. He knew he was the bad guy right now and he could accept that.

“Just go h–“

You cut yourself off when you turned around, your books in his hands as he tried to flip through the pages, guilt on his face when he saw that it wasn’t salvageable. The feeling sat heavy in his stomach like a rock, growing heavier the more time that passed.

He set them down gently, rain dampened hair flopping over his forehead as he stood up. His mouth opened to say something but he closed it again, instead wrapping you up in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, kissing your cheek, and then your nose. You didn’t know whether it was the hug or that look on his face, but you lost it, burying your face against his chest. He held you tighter, shushing you in an attempt to calm you down, and after a few minutes it did.

“No, I’m…I should’ve just waited for you.”

He brushed your hair away from your face, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing where you blame yourself.”

“It’s true,” you shrug, wiping your face with the back of your hand. You brushed by him to get out of that room and into somewhere that felt less confined at the moment. He kicked off his boots and his wet jacket, hanging it on the coatrack. “You don’t have to stay because you feel bad for me. It’s fine.”

He gave you a look of disagreement, shoulders slumped at the way you were acting. “It’s more than just this, isn’t it?”

“It was just a bad day, Dean. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter when it’s getting you upset like this,” he reasoned with a louder voice and you rolled your eyes, letting out a big sigh. “You know I won’t make you talk, but at least let me be here.”

You leaned against the counter for a moment, rubbing your hands over your face. He wasn’t leaving and you knew that. “Okay. I guess you can stay.”

You were caught up in your own head for a little bit, Dean’s feet coming into view while your eyes were focused on the floor. You grabbed his hands, noticing the black grease still under his nails and smudged on his hands, rubbing your thumbs across them gently. The sight only made you feel worse, so much worse.

It wasn’t because he didn’t care, not even a little. It was because of exactly what he’d told you, what he’d been trying to tell you this whole time.

“‘M sorry for getting mad,” you said softly, dropping his hand to brush the hair away that stuck to his forehead.

His hair was still plenty wet from the rain, the occasional drop falling from the end. And you brush it away, running your fingers through it to get his hair out of his eyes. You always did like the longer hair choice, no matter the fact that either looked good.

Things fell silent again and you sighed quietly, hand falling back to your side.

“You’re all wet,” you say softly, and he can hear the guilt in your voice.

That smile of his appears, a soft chuckle leaving his lips that makes you frown and furrow your brows.

“It’s alright,” he shrugs. “I ain’t gonna melt, sweetheart.”

You narrowed your eyes a little more.

“You pickin’ on me, Dean?” You ask, and you watch that smile get a little bigger. “Of course you are.”

You try your best to sound grumpy, to sound ever so displeased, but it never worked. Never. Especially not as he chuckled again, that stupid laugh of his that you loved more than anything. Especially not as he pulled you in close, despite his rain soaked clothes. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not as he nestled in against you.

And even despite the fact that he was all wet with rain, despite all that, the warmth from his body heat still radiated through to you and blanketed you in it.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you this time,” you murmur, tipping your head back to look at him.

“Oh good,” he hums, barely getting the words out before he dips down to kiss you, his lips warm and lingering.

You could never stay mad at him, no matter how hard you tried to.

—

Taglist: @harrysweasleys @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @deandaydreaming @agalliasi @malindacath @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @awkward-and-indecisive @drownthewitch @happyt0exist @sparkycorleone @humanmistakes @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy @elliewigginton20 @wandering-winchesters @senjoritanana

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction

[ozzgin]

I can order a yandere cute (kawaii), who maybe because of his cute and innocent appearance managed to get close to his beloved, but maybe this boy is not only cute and has a very disturbing past...

When you described a cute yandere with a messed up past, all I could think of was Kanato from Diabolik Lovers. This one's less of an asshole though. Hopefully. I also wasn't sure what you had in mind for 'disturbing past', I may have gone overboard.

Cute!Twisted! Yandere x Reader

Children will say the strangest things. Such as the marriage promise you’ve received from the little boy you befriended a long time ago, when you were rather young yourself. Yet sometimes the words aren’t entirely devoid of meaning. He definitely hasn’t forgotten his intentions, and your current fiancé is a mere delay to his plans.

TW: mentions of abuse, obsessive behavior, violence, small age gap, death

He still remembers the day you met, so clearly and vividly. His most cherished memory. 

It was particularly cold despite the sun and his feet were hurting. He didn't have the time to put any shoes on, he ran out the moment he'd heard the sound of glass breaking. 

Mother was so scary when she'd get upset. The bulging eyes, the screaming mouth, the wild hair scattered over her face, darkening her features.

What if she were to follow him outside? No, she was never mean in front of others. Then again, the street was empty...He bit apart the skin on his fingers in panic. 

"Isn't it a bit late for pajamas?"

His eyes darted up and met hers. A girl somewhat taller and older, holding a basketball under her arm and staring intently, visibly confused. He was, after all, shivering outside by himself, barefoot and in sleeping garments in bright daylight. He blushed in embarrassment. 

"I snuck out for some fresh air."

"Rebellious already, huh?" She smirked and walked over, dropping herself on the sidewalk next to him. "I'm (Y/N). Do you live in the area? We could hang out when you feel like it. No need to sit by yourself."

She pointed to a house unexpectedly close. Has she always been nearby? Then again, he was never allowed outside. Besides the spontaneous escapades in order to avoid the burning rage, he didn't see other people much. It had always been him and Mother. 

For his own good, really. At least that's what Mother used to say. When she wasn't angry, she'd cry and hold him tight, telling him how much she pities him between hiccups and candid sobs. A vile creature like him would surely be mocked by the rest of the world. Not his fault, the poor little angel. Alas, his miserable fate still had a glimpse of hope, because Mother would never abandon him. He would always find acceptance from her all-forgiving heart.

And yet, there was always the seed of suspicion in the depths of his mind. Her sweet, soothing words felt like a hot slap over the blooming wounds already adorning his body, shaping a paradox.

Then he met you. You didn't seem to be disturbed by his presence. The following days, whenever he approached you, you'd welcome him with the same warm smile. Just like you promised. He couldn't find the ridicule he'd so often been warned about.

The puzzle pieces didn't fit together, and it became painfully obvious once Mother confronted him about his secret outings. Somehow her wrath had faded. Her shouts were mere waves echoing from somewhere distant, only grazing by his ears. She must've noticed his indifference, too, because she began rummaging her pockets for the basement key. Perhaps an old fashioned discipline would have helped him regain his voice. But the dark, cramped walls of the basement no longer frightened him. During his time spent outside, he had discovered a fact of stunning novelty:

He didn't have to listen to her. Staring into her ferocious, bottomless pits, he only found the reflection of (Y/N)'s face. Her peaceful, loving expression, devoid of pain, or fury, or punishment. 

His little hands reached for the box cutter.

"It's you that has to go downstairs, Mother. You're a liar. I hate liars."

Was it the right choice? His small outburst had ultimately cost him your company. That evening he politely called emergency to let them know his Mother had gone mad. And so they dispatched a couple of officers to investigate the gruesome cadaver, sprawled along the stairs with too many gashes to count. They shyly investigated the basement, and a social worker carefully inspected the little boy's abundant markings. This couldn't have been a suicide, but the tearful, frightened eyes of the child kept them from pressing further. Whoever had stepped foot into their home that day most likely did him a favor. Nonetheless, he was now essentially orphaned, requiring an adult, and was swiftly shipped to the first available relative.

He didn't have the time to meet you one last time. A shameful departure given his final meeting: completely inebriated with ardent affection, he dared to present to you his innermost wish. One day he'd marry you, he was certain of it. You chuckled and extended your pinky finger reassuringly. A sealed deal. 

All he had was your name and your promise and God, how dearly he clung to them every night, every passing year. His true glimmer of hope.

You're scrolling through your emails, waiting for the bus to arrive, when a gentle tap on the shoulder startles you. Behind you is a young man, although the soft, feminine features give him more of an androgynous appearance.

"May I help you?"

"You're (Y/N), aren't you?" he bats his eyelashes expectantly. 

"I am, but how do you-" 

You gaze at the stranger intently. The big, innocent eyes, the childish demeanor, there's a certain familiarity to it. Who could it be? Suddenly you're overwhelmed by nostalgia. 

"It's you! How many years...? And you haven't changed one bit!" You laugh merrily at the sight of your shy, quiet friend, all grown up. 

"H-hey now, surely I look more mature this time." He tries to emulate a somber frown as a way to prove his adulthood. "Do you have time? I'd love to catch up."

He missed you so much. 

"Right now is a little difficult, but I'll tell you what. Why don't you come over to our place in the near future?"

Huh?

"This way I can introduce you to my fiancé!" You flash him your phone in order to exchange numbers, enthusiastic about the surprise reunion.

He vacantly stares at the lockscreen depicting an unknown man holding you close to him. When he searched for your name online, he didn't find anything regarding a relationship. He didn't expect this. He shouldn't have expected this. His fingers tighten around the small velvet box in his pocket. 

Did you forget your promise to him? Or was everything a lie? No, you wouldn't...you couldn't...He fucking hates liars. But you're not one of them, are you? You're not like Mother. No, no, no, no. Breathe. It's his fault. Of course, naturally. He vanished without a word and you must've thought he abandoned you. How careless of him. How terribly rude to blame you for his mistakes. It's okay, it's alright. He'll make it up to you. Sweet, darling (Y/N). 

"Are you okay?"

He looks up and notices your worried face. 

"Me? Yes, definitely. I was just a little surprised. Hehe. Who would've thought?" He grins and winks at you. "I have an even better idea! Why don't you two come to my apartment instead? I never got the chance to congratulate you for your engagement."

"Gosh, haha, don't worry about i-"

"Please. Pretty please?" He pouts dramatically, holding onto your coat, and you blush slightly at the adorable display. "It's my way of thanking you for the nice childhood memories."

"You really have your way to convince people, huh?" You ruffle his hair and he lowers his head, enjoying the touch. "I'll let my fiancé know."

"Such a cozy place you got yourself!" You beam at the lovely atmosphere of the room. Everything is bright and inviting. 

"Uh huh. The ladies must love you." Your fiancé follows up in agreement, snacking on the fancy appetizers. 

The young man places a tray on the table and hands you both a glass of sparkling wine. 

"Do you live alone? I refuse to believe you don't have a girlfriend." You joke and turn to your partner. "He was a real loner back then. Never saw him around other kids."

"Don't out me like that, (Y/N)!" He pinches your cheek humorously. "As a matter of fact, I do have a girlfriend."

Your fiancé raises his eyebrows, encouraging the boy to continue with details, while he gulps down the pleasantly aromatic drink. Must be expensive. 

"Then why didn't you bring her here? I want to meet her!" You whine. 

The man fiddles with his glass, observing the air bubbles that rush to the surface. 

"You already know her."

"Oh?"

Distracted by this knowledge, you stretch for your own glass and accidentally grab the one belonging to your fiancé. Before you can bring it to your lips, your head swings to the side and you can instantly feel your cheek throb, numb from the abrupt impact of someone's hand. 

"Don't fucking touch it!"

Your childhood friend is standing before you, equally shocked by his act. He stares at his reddening palm and his face twists in terror.

"I-I'm...Oh God...I'm so sorry, (Y/N). I just, I didn't know what else to do. You have to understand, please. I'd never-"

As you listen to his erratic apology, you hear the wheezing coughs of your fiancé. His breathing is irregular and he scratches his throat, unable to verbalize his struggle to you. A white foam begins to form in the corners of his mouth. You try to get up, but the man's fingers dig into your face, forcing you back on the chair. 

"Shhh shhh, it sounds uglier than it actually is. Trust me. Do you see now? I had to be a little rough, otherwise you would've gotten hurt. Hey! Look at me." He cups your cheeks with both of his hands, squatting in front of you. "Let him settle down. It won't be long."

Your vision becomes blurry.

"He needs an ambulance. Please. What did you do with the drinks?" You manage to blurt out.

"Won't make a difference."

He rests his gaze on your features for a few moments, admiring them dreamily. 

"It breaks my heart when you're sad like this. Didn't I say this is an engagement celebration?"

Without breaking eye contact, he pulls out his treasured box and opens it in your lap, revealing a ring.

"I know I disappeared without a word, but I truly had no choice. This is my way of begging for your forgiveness. Not a day went by without thinking of you, (Y/N). I, heh...I actually got this many years ago. Just carried it in my pocket in case I ever found you again." 

He giggles awkwardly, stroking your cheek protectively. 

"So don't cry. I've kept my promise after all, didn't I? Aren't you proud of me~?"

By the time his little speech ends, the room has filled with silence. Your fiancé is slouching on the chair, still and quiet. The young boy picks up your limp body, humming cheerfully. 

"You'll be the prettiest bride in the world.

Mine and mine only."

#female reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere original character #yandere childhood friend #tw yandere

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

(cw: a child, f!reader, "mommy", and "daddy")

[8:41 am]

"Are you sure she's warm enough?" Dad!Jeno asked nervously, adjusting the scarf on his toddler for the nth time.

"She's sweating Jeno, she's fine. Right baby?" You bend to ask the toddler to pull up her zipper.

She nods with an excited smile. You and Jeno had woken up to the excited squeals of you daughter while she jumped on your bed and babbled on and on about the snow. This would be her first year she could actually remember being in the snow and being able to play on her own. She was so excited, she talked the whole way through breakfast about how she couldn't wait to be outside and play in the snow until the sun went down.

Before you all went outside, after a lot of begging on your daughter's end, and many, many layers later, you were all heading down stairs to go outside.

Jeno had bundled her up in a thermal, sweats, gloves, a beanie, and a snow suit, the poor girl would be sweating outside. Jeno had made sure you were bundled up as well and led you all out of the house in his pajamas. Needless to say, you made him go in and get changed.

"Snow!" Your daughter cheered as she dashed out of the elevator. Jeno was hot on her tail, grabbing her hand and helping her over the icy sidewalk to get to the fluffy white snow.

You joined them outside right on time to see her plop onto her back, sinking into the snow to make a snow angel. She laughed happily, flapping her arms up and down through the snow. She stood up with snow stuck to her snowsuit and rosy cheeks, red from the cold and ran off to play some more.

You and Jeno watched her for a while, running around happily with the other kids of the apartment building. She made countless snow angels, snowballs, and just had fun in the snow.

Jeno smiled at her lovingly, "She really looks like she's having a good time- put the snowball down! Don't eat it!"

You laughed watching Jeno chase after her and the snowball she was going to eat. She ran straight behind you to hide, giggling like crazy and out of breath.

"Hey baby," You laugh, adjusting her hat, "Want to build a snowman with Mommy?"

She nods excitedly, beginning to gather up a pile of snow. Once it gets to the point where you need it to be taller you send her off to get some sticks and little rocks for the details. She comes back with an armful of twigs with happy laughs and beyond excited to show you some cool rocks she found.

Jeno joins you both to add his scarf to the snowman. Your daughter giggles happily, "It's daddy!"

Jeno laughs cheerfully and calls her over so they can start making more snowmen, one small one, and one more that was "adult size." The small one gets your daughter's scarf and the remaining one of course gets yours when your daughter waddles over to ask for your hat and scarf.

"Look at that baby! Who did you make?" You ask her with a smile.

She claps her hands, the sound muffled by her gloves, "It's me, mommy, and daddy." She begins to babble on and on about how she made them, how many sticks she found, her cool rocks, a dog she saw earlier, how she saw a snowman in a movie, and really- whatever else comes to mind.

Jeno comes up to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you closer, "I think she liked the snow."

"So much she's trying to eat it again," you chuckle, watching her form a small clump of snow and lick it.

Jeno runs to her, "Not again! Leave it on the ground!"

-

tagging! @jaeminnanaaa17 enjoy more dad!nct dream :)

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #jeno imagines #jeno x reader #jeno fluff #jeno scenarios