#//also please stop him from doing a keg stand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peninkwrites · 2 years

Text

A Patchwork Powder Keg - Ch 12 of 14

Tubbo learns to drive. A car gets blown up.

[CW: injuries]

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 11

Ch 13

Mafia AU Masterpost

~ Another Collective ~

Quackity stumbles back from the impact, heart no longer pressed to his lips. He hits the ground hard as a second shot rings out, Quackity vaguely seeing the wood of the coffin splintered as the shot embeds itself there instead of in his chest. Quackity also focuses on Jack Manifold pinning him to the ground with grim, irritated determination.

The room has devolved into utter chaos, more screams, more gunshots. The moment Quackity was hit Tubbo’s gaze had instead turned to the crowd, where he saw one man standing with his pistol raised, pale and eyes wide with horrified fury. He knew that face. He’s one of Schlatt’s. Tubbo wants to follow him, watching him struggle to flee the scene among a crowd of hysterics.

“Tubbo!” Jack shouts.

Tubbo turns back to Jack, to Quackity still bleeding on the floor despite Jack’s current attempts to slow it. There is blood on Quackity’s mouth and for a moment Tubbo is panicked by the thought of how deep an injury must be for blood to fill his lungs that fast, until he realizes, the bloody thing which remains clasped in his hand. Oh.

From the crowd, a few of the party are not running away from the stage and instead to it. Ponk wants to help, but all the knowledge in the world doesn’t change the fact that their arm is in a sling, they had started running, grabbing Foolish’s sleeve, pulling him along with them, Foolish following meant Puffy followed, Eret and HBomb behind Ponk, Bad and Ant following suit, Fundy is also there, from his panicked expression largely because he doesn’t know what else to do and doesn’t want to be alone right now.

“Foolish, help carry him into the back, someone call an ambulance, we’ve got to get pressure on it,” Ponk says quickly.

Foolish, who Tubbo does not remember being this big, scoops Quackity off the ground like he weighs nothing, uncaring as his pale clothes are rapidly stained with blood. Quackity’s weak groan at least tells them that he’s conscious. The group crowds into the back room, Tubbo frantically clearing off a table so Foolish can lay him down, Puffy grabbing the phone off the wall to call for an ambulance, Ant and Bad currently watching the doors, but there has been no more fire from the crowd, the chaos now largely in the civilians attempting to flee. Fundy now holds onto Eret’s arm, largely to reassure himself rather than help her.

“Okay, Puffy is calling, we’ll get an ambulance, and he’ll be alright. Beacon Hospital isn’t far. And they’ve seen a lot of bullet wounds, he’ll be– He’ll be better in no time,” Ponk tries to offer reassurances as everyone continues to remain at least slightly panicked. Other than that, no one is acting. “I said put some goddamn pressure on it!” Ponk says again more sharply now, frustrated that they can’t do it on their own with their arm in a sling. Jack reaches forward.

“No,” Tubbo stammers, others gathered give him a bewildered look. “I– I can do it,” he clasps his hands with almost practiced precision, clamping down on Quackity’s shoulder, wincing when Quackity cries out. “Jack, I need you to reach into my jacket pocket.”

“You what?!” Jack says panickedly.

“I’m a bit fucking busy, so yes, Jack, get into my jacket pocket, there’s a list, there’s a list with mug shots, get it out, please!” Tubbo says frantically, still pressing down onto Quackity’s bloodied shoulder. The bullet wound is higher than he initially had feared, cutting through his chest a few inches below his collarbone.

HBomb leaves Eret’s side now that they’ve stopped running, Eret piecing together what’s happened the best she can, knowing there isn’t time for someone to explain properly. HBomb tears off his jacket. “Here, use this,” he passes it to Tubbo, who accepts gratefully and uses it to soak up the blood.

“Okay! Okay, I have the bloody list, Tubbo, what’re you on about?!” Jack says with a hint of hysteria, the paper crackling in his fist as he shakes it.

“Go through it!” Tubbo says frantically. “Faster, please! No, stop!” Tubbo nods to the mug shot of the man he had just seen flee the church, smoking pistol in hand. “Jack, I need you to go outside and follow that man. If you can’t find his face, he drives an ugly as shit brown Pontiac. Do not engage, but don’t fucking lose him. If he stops moving you find a payphone, you call the house, got it?”

Jack nods, shoving the papers into his pocket, half falling over himself to do as he asked, scrambling out the door. Tubbo feels like the past minutes have been hours, and he knows even this time is enough for that man to have disappeared. His only hope is he got stuck in the crowd trying to cram through the front doors and Jack will be able to catch up running out the side door.

“Quackity? Big Q, you still with me?” Tubbo says frantically.

Quackity’s eyes are shut tightly jaw tense, he manages something like a nod and a weak hum in the affirmative.

“Ambulance is on its way,” Puffy calls.

“Good, good, you’re gonna be fine, Bossman. You’re good,” Tubbo says.

“I know…” Quackity says raggedly. “I know I’m good…”

For a moment, Tubbo almost expects Quackity to continue with something sentimental about knowing he’s in good hands.

“...didn’t get me in the face, so… so I’m still hot… don’t even worry about it…”

Tubbo laughs a bit too loudly, his arms starting to burn from how hard he’s pressing down on the blood still seeping slowly through his fingertips. “Y-Yeah, you’re good.” Tubbo has known Quackity for a long time, but he’s getting a bit tired of panicking over his injuries while waiting for an ambulance to arrive.

“You… you wanna swap out?” Foolish’s voice is more like what Tubbo remembers, not at all gruff, almost sweet. “Look, man, I bet you can do it, just, your arms are starting to shake. A little bit.”

Tubbo feels like Quackity is his responsibility. He doesn’t want to let go.

“Fucking hell, Tubbo, let him…” Quackity rasps.

Tubbo reluctantly lets go, allowing Foolish to take over. Not long after, they hear sirens. Most present are surprised. This is an East Side church. It usually takes longer for ambulances to get over here. Tubbo connects some dots, realizing that former Police Captain Puffy had been the one to call.

“I-I’m gonna go outside. Show them where to go,” Fundy flees the bloodied scene. The man has never done well with blood.

“I’m gonna go make sure he doesn’t just panic and run,” HBomb follows.

“Hey!” Fundy says indignantly.

Ant and Bad seem to be having a silent conversation, exchanging looks by the door. Some conclusion must be met, as Bad speaks up.

“We’re going to disappear before they get here. You know the drill, we aren’t much use to you anyway, and we’re not sticking around to talk to the police,” Bad at least sounds apologetic. “Badlands policy, I’m afraid.”

“Thanks,” Tubbo nods shakily, far more focused on Quackity as the pair of Badlanders make their leave out the same side door as the others. Puffy and Foolish remain, Foolish particularly occupied, Ponk and Eret stay as well, and not just because their driver just ran out with Fundy. Tubbo remains beside the table, tense and ill, he goes to hold Quackity’s hand before stopping himself, pulling back as if he’d been burned by the sight of the messier gore still clutched in Quackity’s fist.

“Anyone got, like, a baggie?” Puffy says dryly.

“Why would… why would you need a baggie?” Eret frowns.

“I don’t know if you want to know,” Foolish says, voice just a bit higher, still focused on his bloody task, just as his father replies instead.

“Quackity has… something he took out of Schlatt,” Puffy explains.

“Uh… what?”

“It’s his heart,” Quackity isn’t looking at any of them. He stares at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain in his left shoulder. His right hand remains curled around his chosen souvenir.

“And… and Quackity is the one who was shot, yes?” Eret asks.

“Yeah, he was–” Ponk turns to look at her, baffled. “You didn’t know who got shot?!”

Eret shrugs, irritable, “how the hell would I?!”

“You could’ve asked–”

“There was a lot going on, seemed like, so I thought I would just wait!” Eret huffs.

Their bickering is background noise, Tubbo far more focused on Quackity, not quite judgemental, but still wary.

Quackity glances over at him, he grimaces. “Yeah… yeah, I know,” he says, taking a painful, deep breath.

“Know what?” Tubbo asks quietly. Foolish, despite being right there, unable to move, is doing his best to look away and pretend he can’t hear them, looking around the boring back room with excessive focus like it’s the most interesting thing he’s seen.

“I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have done that without asking you,” Quackity doesn’t clarify if he means the spectacle or taking the heart at all.

“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” Tubbo says. He sounds weary.

“No? It’s… it’s not?”

“I should’ve talked to you. Before I… before I did what I did with Schlatt. He was yours too. And I took that from you, so,” Tubbo nods to the heart before quickly looking away. “You had to improvise.”

“Huh,” Quackity almost laughs, before sharply stopping himself with a wince, breathless from sharp pain piercing his chest. He takes a moment to just breathe. “Actually, Tubbo… I’m glad you… I’m glad you didn’t.”

Tubbo looks him in the eye once more, eyebrows furrowed together. “You are?”

“I dunno for sure, guess we… we can’t know, can we? But I’m… I’m scared I might’ve tried to stop you. So, I’m glad you didn’t.”

Before Tubbo can attempt to piece together a reply, the side door bursts open, Fundy and HBomb enter, followed by two medics. Quackity almost looks annoyed by the interruption, even as they take over for Foolish, and get him properly prepped for the trip to the hospital.

“T-Tubbo…” Quackity calls, reaching out for him even as the medics try to move him onto a stretcher.

“Yeah?” Tubbo goes to follow, assuming Quackity wants him in the ambulance with him.

“No, no, you…” Quackity needs to talk fast, even as every breath sharpens the pain. “You go help Jack with… you just go help Jack. I know you want to, and honestly, I kinda want you to too,” a weak, bitter smile.

Tubbo only now notices Quackity has taken his hand. His right hand, still bloody, but currently only holding a pair of car keys, which he presses into his palm. Tubbo accepts. “I’ll see you at the hospital later. I promise.”

“We’ll go with him,” Ponk speaks up as Quackity is taken out to the ambulance.

“Thank you, Ponk, I- I mean that, thank you,” Tubbo nods, staring down at the slightly bloodied car keys. He scans the rest of the room, particularly the floor, as the others begin to leave. It isn’t exactly something he wants to find, but the last thing they need is to leave a bloody old heart laying around.

Puffy glances back toward the ambulance, “I’ll talk to the cops, that should give you enough time to leave. They can just assume you ran with the rest of the crowd.”

“Thank you, Puffy.” Tubbo waits for her to leave first, and only once alone does he take out a small, clear trash bag full of plastic communion cups and used napkins, brace himself, and pick up the heart through it, wrapping it up and tying it off. He thinks Quackity has lost his mind a bit, surely, but he also firmly believes it’s Quackity’s insanity to choose. He at least owes him that.

Tubbo is quick to make his exit around the other side of the building, away from the flashing lights and urgent crowd. He goes to Quackity’s car, keeping his head down, incredibly grateful that they had swung back for Jack to get his car before the funeral so Jack hadn’t needed to take Quackity’s. The thought of having to ask some of the fancy rich people and-or mob people for a ride might have killed him. He already doesn’t know how to feel about them all rushing to his and Quackity’s aid, especially considering the events leading up to the gunshot. Puffy maybe he can understand, Quackity had gotten her out of some trouble around her retirement from the Police Force, Ponk as well, but the rest of them, Tubbo doesn’t understand. There’s no fucking way they’re actually forming some sort of community here or whatever nonsense. Bad and Ant following the group doesn’t change that they are still in regular disputes with Manberg over territory. Manberg. It’s an antiquated, bullshit name that Schlatt made to pretend like he was the king of his own little country, but Tubbo has no idea what else to call it.

He’s stalling, sitting in the driver’s seat of Quackity’s car, that’s both literally and figuratively stalling, as one tiny issue is, Tubbo is not a very good driver. To be fair, no one had really been around to teach him, save Quackity once or twice in a parking lot, and Niki letting him drive the delivery truck for all of five minutes before Tubbo went over a curb and he told her she should drive instead. Tubbo has a license, but, well. One he bought off Ponk for ten dollars.

“You… you just got to get home. It’s like, it’s like ten blocks, how hard can it be?” Tubbo, one last shred of procrastination, shoves the plastic bag into the glovebox.

“Nice one!” Tommy cackles, looking at Wilbur’s messy efforts to carve into the side of an old mustang that Tommy swears he saw parked outside Tubbo’s place one time.

Wilbur has, poorly, written Cunt in cursive in the door of the car, adding a heart at the end for a bit of flair. The kid is at least taking his mind off of things. Such as the utter obliteration of all of his plans for the future. They were limited plans, far from long-term, but nonetheless. Not an ending by any means, but certainly a road block. There’s plenty of other danger to find in this city.

Tommy scuffs his feet, this time serving as lookout while Wilbur cleans up his work. Niki had been kind enough to give Wilbur his own key to the flat, and he is a bit worried he’s going to break it doing this. Tommy doesn’t have any keys at all, he’s making do with a sturdy, short blade on a multitool he conjured from his many pockets, which he said was his key to many, many places.

Tommy isn’t particularly creative today, but at least he’s consistent. All their other target vehicles are now adorned with at least one dick.

“There!” Wilbur stands, satisfied. “Who next?”

Tommy eyes a familiar and incredibly fancy car, sleek and black with tinted windows. “That one doesn’t belong to any of Schlatt’s, but… well, it does belong to a rich fancy fucker.”

“Eh, fine by me,” Wilbur takes a step toward it.

“I dunno. She’s blind and shit, that feels fucked up and pointless. She can’t even see it, and she won’t know it’s there to like, take care of it or whatever with her buckets of money,” Tommy explains.

“Oh, that’s Eret’s car?” Wilbur presses on brightly.

“You know Eret?” Tommy is quick to keep up.

“Yep! They hung around Niki a lot. You know, with their cool voice and handsome face and-and charming good looks…” he crouches down beside the car door. “Prick…”

“Did you have a crush on ‘er?”

“What?! No!” Wilbur blusters. “They were– She was annoying! And, uh, snobby. But no, Niki thought she was so cool,” he rolls his eyes.

“You had a crush on Niki, then?”

“No , no she’s like my little sister!”

“Dunno about little. She’s way stronger than you.”

“Yeah, now she is, Niki– I mean, she wasn’t then,” Wilbur assesses the car door.

“Come on, now, it’s not like Eret can see it…” Tommy still has doubts.

“But her driver will, obviously, and then she’ll have to take care of it!”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot she had a driver.”

“Forgot she–? Yes, yeah, she’s not blindly driving herself, oddly enough. Honestly, it’ll probably make her laugh, considering money is no fucking object to her,” Wilbur scratches one line into the car door before he hears a muffled gunshot. “The fuck–” Wilbur grabs Tommy’s sleeve, dragging him to the ground.

“Don’t worry, it was a ways off, I think,” Tommy is unbothered, perhaps a bit cautious as he cranes his neck to scan the carpark.

That’s when the screaming begins, and the parking lot floods with people dressed in black.

“Oh, fuck, come on, kid, we should not stick around to see what all the fuss is about,” Wilbur grabs onto Tommy’s jacket, head down, dragging him through the cars.

“Wait–” Tommy pulls against him. “M-My– My friends, they’re in there–”

“What?” Wilbur glances back. “Then you’re better off clearing out and not getting in the way,” he continues to drag Tommy by the scruff, about to take off down the street with him stumbling in tow.

“Oi! Wait a fucking minute!” Tommy roars furiously, yanking away. “Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He snarls. “My friends are back there, and you’re here, and you’re fuck all to me, so don’t fucking touch me!” Tommy looks like he has half a mind to start swinging, but Wilbur doesn’t move, just stares at him, wide-eyed. “What gives you– You don’t have the fucking right. And you’re not gonna get in your thick head that you can stop me! If you wanna run like a little bitch, feel free,” Tommy roughly fixes his collar, “but I’m not,” he turns around, storming determinedly back toward the throng of hysterical civilians.

Wilbur paces from foot to foot, torn between running for the streets or after Tommy. “Oh, fuck it,” he grumbles, jogging after the boy before he loses him in the crowd. Tommy actually makes a sharp left, Wilbur struggling to keep up.

“Jack Manifold!” Tommy shouts, slipping through people easily, well-versed from stealing wallets, in pursuit of a face Wilbur finds familiar.

“Tommy?!” Jack jumps, almost dropping his car keys, barely sparing either of them a glance, eyes instead locked on a brown Pontiac that most definitely has the word Cunt carved into the driver’s side door. “A-And Wilbur Soot– Okay, fine, fuck, that might as well happen–”

“Hello?! Jack, where’s Tubbo?!” Tommy grabs Jack’s shoulder, turning him around whether he wants to be or not.

“He’s fine, Tommy! Safe, but he asked me to– oh fuck,” Jack scrambles into the driver’s side, and without question, Tommy gets into the back seat, so Wilbur follows. “What the hell are you doing?! Oh, fuck it, I don’t have time for this,” he starts the car, all but ignoring them, eyes still locked on the ugly car struggling to get out of the lot.

“What’s going on?!” Tommy leans forward, still shouting in Jack’s face.

“All you need to know is, that man shot Big Q– he’s gonna be okay, don’t worry about it, they’re getting an ambulance and shit–” he says quickly as Tommy looks like he has half a mind to duck and roll out of the car, “and Tubbo has sent me after him, alright?” Jack turns sharply as the car forces its way out, running over some scraggly bushes on the way. Jack keeps him in his sights.

Among the many other cars currently fleeing the scene, the Pontiac doesn’t show sign he knows he’s being actively pursued.

“Oh, we’ll fuck him up, alright,” Tommy growls.

“What?! No, we’re– Tubbo said to keep an eye on him and call him when he settles. You wanna help? Just– Do what Tubbo asked, alright?” Jack says.

Tommy grumbles wordlessly, “alright, fine!”

Wilbur leans forward to greet an old friend he hasn’t seen in quite a few years. “Ayup, Jack. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, alright, thanks, mate. Er, you know, new job and all that,” Jack glances at him, very much embracing an attitude of this might as well happen as Tommy “Innit” and Wilbur Soot have decided to make themselves at home in his backseat, unprompted, among the chaos already rioting throughout the day. He continues to drive methodically behind the Pontiac, keeping his distance, occasionally risking a turn and rejoining another block down. Thankfully, the chaotic traffic of funeral-goers gives them some coverage, but it won’t last.

“Oh, fuck,” it takes five minutes for Jack to mess it up.

“What?!”

“I’ve lost him.”

“You had one fucking job, Jack Manifold! One fucking job!”

“It’s not my fault! I am doing my best here, why are you even here?!” Jack shouts back frantically.

“Both of you shut up!” Wilbur shouts. “Christ… Jack, just… just circle the block, work your way out, he can’t have gone far.”

Jack nods, tight lipped and tense, doing as he says, even Tommy grudgingly keeps his silence. They almost miss it.

“Oh, cunt!”

“What?!” Jack turns back to look at him bewilderedly, almost hitting a curb.

“No, Jack, look,” Tommy rolls his eyes, pointing to what Wilbur had just spotted.

Jack stares, mouthing hanging open slightly, at the car he had been following, plainly marked out as he can now see by some foul language cut into its side. The car itself appears empty.

“Right, that’s… great. Where the fuck is he, then?” Jack sighs.

“Can’t have gone far,” Tommy starts to open the car door. Jack has not stopped, even as he’s moving slowly down the side-street.

Jack and Wilbur’s protests overlap, Wilbur scrambling to reach over him and shut the door.

“What the fuck were you planning on doing?!” Wilbur says scoldingly.

Tommy gives him a look. “You know, looking around?”

“No, no, this is my job, I’ll– I said I was gonna call Tubbo and tell him, and you lot should clear out,” Jack, the car now stopped and parked a halfway down the street from their target, gets out of the car.

“I want to help Tubbo, man, come on, let me!” Tommy whines, following him.

“No! No, this is getting really dangerous, and you’re not dying on my bloody watch! You and… and Wilbur, who you’re hanging out with for some fucking reason that I cannot fathom, and… you’re both gonna clear the fuck out of here, aright? And I dunno, I’m gonna find a payphone!” Jack storms off toward the payphone he’d spotted just around the corner, shouting over his shoulder one last time, “keep your distance! I mean that!”

“Ugh, fine! Fuck off, Jack Manifold, we’ll clear out!” Tommy groans dramatically.

Jack shouts one last, “don’t mess this up for me!” Before resuming his irritated pace.

Tommy watches him go, rolling his eyes. “Ready for some reckon-essence, Soot?” Tommy nods smartly.

Wilbur looks at him, baffled and a bit endeared. “Reconnaissance?”

“That’s what I said, dickhead,” Tommy scoffs, creeping forward, intent on lurking in the alley as near to the car as he can get.

“I thought we were supposed to clear out?” Wilbur repeats Jack’s warning mockingly.

Tommy snorts. “Day I take orders from Jack Manifold is the day I die. And Tommy “danger” Innit doesn’t die.”

Wilbur has no retort. He is wildly aware this is not a good idea. He follows anyway.

Tubbo has a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, hypervigilant as he slowly moves through the streets, the traffic of others fleeing is both terrifying and a useful guide. He just has to try not to hit anyone. All other traffic laws are a footnote. He stops the car in the middle of the street outside of the townhouse, halfway down the block. He runs the rest of the way, inside the house, and down the hall to Schlatt’s– to his office.

He opens his desk drawer.

He takes out his bomb.

Tubbo stares at it, his heart beating louder in his ears.

The phone rings, and Tubbo gets so scared he almost drops it, pins and needles of cold-blooded panic rushing through him as for a moment he’d been convinced he’d been about to get blown up. He sets it down carefully on the desk before scrambling for the phone.

“Y-Yes, hello?!” Tubbo manages to speak coherently.

“Hey, Tubbo, er, Boss.” It’s Jack. “We’re stopped by his car, he’s not in it. I’m guessing it’s a hideout or some shit. I’m watching the car, though, and if he comes back I’ll keep following, but nothing yet.”

“Okay, right– yeah, of course. I will– Where are you? I’ll be there soon,” Tubbo stares at the bomb. He really cannot risk crashing the car this time.

Quackity passes out some time getting wheeled into the hospital, but he manages at least to rasp out the phone number for his apartment, Ponk promising to call Karl, that last comfort is enough that he stops fighting to stay awake. Karl will be here soon.

Quackity hasn’t been in the hospital for a while, especially not for something severe enough he blacks out, but he wakes soon enough, fortunate that he’d stayed unconscious long enough for some doctor to dig the bullet out and stitch him up.

Quackity wakes, and the first thing he feels is someone holding his hand. He opens his eyes, squinting in the white lighting, Karl coming into view.

“H-Hey, babe…” Quackity mumbles hoarsely.

“Quackity… you are totally the worst sometimes,” Karl smiles weakly.

“Aw, you don’t mean that,” Quackity grins back, sheepish.

“I do. I do mean it,” Karl sighs, leaning forward, kissing Quackity’s hand.

“Aw, but you love me anyway.”

Karl gives him a weary look, eyes watering, and Quackity realizes Karl had been crying. “I do,” Karl says softly, a wavering in his voice he half tries to bury. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

“I do. I know,” Quackity softens, reaching out, brushing against Karl’s face. “Hey, I’m okay, Karl. I’m not going anywhere.”

Rather than prevent tears, Quackity’s attempts at gentle reassurances seem to usher them in. Karl leans forward, a sob escaping, quiet, just a shuddering in his chest as he cradles Quackity’s face. “Y-You’re– You’re not okay, Q, you’re not okay, you– you got shot. You got freaking shot in the chest. In what world is that okay?!”

Quackity leans into Karl’s touch, covering his hand with his own. “I’m sorry,” he whispers gently into his palm. “I love you too.”

“You’re… you’re the worst. Totally the worst…” Karl says, not meaning it in the slightest.

Quackity smiles. “Yeah. And it wasn’t… it wasn’t really my chest. It’s more like… more like my shoulder, okay?”

Karl sighs exasperatedly, gesturing to his bandaged shoulder. “Oh, alright, in that case, never mind! You’re fine, then!”

Quackity laughs, trying to bury a wince as it sends sharp pain through his bandaged shoulder. “Y-Yeah… told you I was fine.”

Karl sighs, taking Quackity’s hand again. “Are you gonna tell me what happened? I saw Ponk earlier, I think they went with Eret and HBomb, but like, they didn’t explain, really? Just like, talked about some general weirdness at the funeral, that somehow ended in you getting shot.”

Quackity winces. Maybe he should feel like he’s made progress in some way with communicating with Karl. He’d told him about the funeral, at least. Even if it had been mostly to explain why he didn’t want him there, not in terms of danger, but more so, “I don’t want you to be in that part of my life, Karl. I want that part of my life to die with him, and after this– it’s– it’s almost over, okay?”

Karl had grudgingly accepted that, although he seemed to be regretting it considering.

“I went…” Quackity sighs. “I went a little… a little overboard at the funeral, y’know?”

“A little overboard?” Karl repeats skeptically.

“Believe me, I’m kind of regretting it…” Quackity mulls it over, trying to think of how to tell him. He’s tired of secrets, especially from Karl, but it’s not exactly easy. “I will explain, Karl, I mean that, I just… I don’t know how to just yet, alright?”

Karl grudgingly accepts this, nodding. “Alright.”

Quackity looks at him, always so patient, so understanding even when Quackity scares him half to death. Karl will give him shit when he deserves it, and Quackity wouldn’t have it any other way, but Karl will also wait and give him time, especially with things like this.

“Do you wanna–” Quackity stops himself. Now isn’t the right time. It’s not the eloquence Karl deserves, but Karl can clearly see he wants to say something.

“What?” Karl looks so earnest, too genuine and open and sometimes Quackity almost can’t bear it when he looks at him like that.

“Uh, never mind, don’t worry about it,” Quackity lays back down.

“Don’t worry about what, Q? You don’t like, you don’t have to tell me about it right now, but you don’t need to… to hold back for my sake or anything, okay?”

Quackity takes a deep breath. He wishes he had planned ahead, that he had a ring or something or anything or he at least didn’t feel this yearning in his chest right now, that this feeling could wait for a moment more beautiful, more worthy of everything Karl had done for him. Lying pathetically in a shit hospital bed will have to do.

“Now, don’t feel pressure just ‘cause I’m wounded, only say it if you mean it, Karlos,” Quackity gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Karl, will you–”

The phone on the bedside table rings, scaring the hell out of both of them, Quackity being startled hurts more, jumping enough it strains his injured shoulder.

“Do you… do I answer it?” Karl stares bewilderedly at the phone.

Quackity groans, annoyed, “shit, yeah, I’ll– Can you hand me the phone? It’s probably important.”

“Important?”

“Yeah, let me– Once I get news, I’ll… I can fill you in on that bit, just–” Quackity motions for the phone. Karl passes it to him.

“Hey, Quackity?”

“Jack?”

“Yeah, I just updated Tubbo, he’s coming to join me. I just thought– Well, we’re following the guy that shot you. I’m watching his car.”

Quackity processes Jack’s uncertain and meandering reply. “You’re… okay, okay where are you exactly?”

“A side street of Centennial. Like, right past that one Deli with the ugly cow on the sign.”

“Yeah, yeah I know it, okay, I’m coming–”

“Here?! You just got shot?! Are you– Really?!”

“Yes, fucking really, Jack! Don’t– Don’t do anything I wouldn’t–” Quackity struggles to sit up, “or anything I would!” He adds sharply into the phone, hanging up before Jack’s stammering protests can continue.

“What do you mean?” Karl stands, looking almost panicked. “Q, why does it– Why did it sound like you’re planning on–”

“Going somewhere? I gotta, alright?” Quackity swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Oh, shit-” he immediately regrets it, “oh, fuck–” He stops, wincing, a hand going to his shoulder.

“Whoa! Whoa, careful! What– What is it?!” Karl paces from foot to foot, reaching out like he wants to help in some way but doesn’t know how.

Quackity grimaces, giving him an apologetic look. “I know you’re already putting up with a lot of shit, Karl, but I gotta go–” Quackity tries to stand.

“Quackity– Quackity, oh my god, you can’t actually be–” Karl moves like he wants to stop him, but unwilling to grab him considering his wounded shoulder. “Quackity, Q, don’t!” Karl actually shouts at him.

Quackity stops, staring at him, surprised.

Karl almost doesn’t know what to do with an attentive audience, but Quackity isn’t moving. He waits, listening, if not weary.

“Quackity, please. You can’t keep–” Karl stops, taking a shaky breath, “you can’t keep doing this. And– And I can’t keep doing this.” Karl stares at him, waiting for Quackity to give some sign of taking his words to heart, all he gets is that Quackity is at least still listening, still waiting. “Where…” Karl gestures uselessly, his hands falling back to his sides. “Where are you even going?”

Quackity looks remorseful, but that isn’t enough. He clearly hasn’t changed his mind. “I… I need to go help Tubbo.”

“With what? Why?” Karl is demanding answers, and Quackity knows he won’t be able to get past him without giving some.

“Tubbo is going after the man who shot me,” Quackity’s voice remains level, accepting of whatever reaction Karl will give. “His idea, not mine, although I’m not exactly opposed. He is there, so is Jack, but I think he still needs me.” A weighted pause, Quackity trying to find the words, and definitely not the words for a proposal, especially not now. “I am going to get out of this, Karl. I mean that. Not just– Not just some bullshit hypothetical I’m stringing you along with, not anymore. Schlatt is dead and I fucking swear to you that means something. I just–” He sighs, eyes closed for a moment. “I need to know Tubbo can do this on his own first, that he’ll be okay. And after that, I’m done. No more Manberg or whatever the fuck, none of it. We buy the old bank across the river, and… and I live a morally upstanding life as a casino owner,” he gives Karl a weak smile.

Karl sighs, stepping forward, pressing a kiss onto Quackity’s forehead. “I don’t care about morally-whatever, I care about you being safe.”

“I know, Karl. I am so sorry you’ve gotten stuck in all this,” Quackity murmurs, hands resting around Karl’s waist. “If you tell me to stay here, I will, but I need to–” He stops. “I want to go help Tubbo.”

Karl sighs, looking grim. “I’m driving. Obviously.”

“You’re–?”

Karl cups his cheeks, gentle, insistent, unyielding. “I’ve decided. We’re going, Q. We are both going, okay? I’m not gonna stop you, but there’s no way I’m not coming with you.”

Quackity feels weak, holding onto Karl’s hand against his own cheek, looking up at Karl, his hair a bit messy, cheeks red, and eyes gleaming. Beautiful.

Breathless and lovesick, Quackity can’t stop himself. “Marry me?”

Karl giggles, even as his heart beats a little faster. “Oh my gosh, Q, is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Maybe?”

Karl kisses him, tender and a little giddy, Quackity can feel him smiling. Karl pulls away. “Ask me again later.”

“Oh– Okay,” Quackity is in a bit of a whirlwind, unsure of how to take that.

“I mean, you know what I’m gonna say,” Karl bounces back on his heels, “but ask me again anyway.”

Quackity staggers to his feet, Karl putting a hand lightly around his waist, sure not to hold on too tight, keeping him steady. Quackity puts his good arm around his shoulder. “Of course, mi amor.”

Tubbo gets to the sidestreet Jack told him, alive and in one piece. Well, mostly in one piece. He loses Quackity’s right mirror getting too closed to a car parked on a side street, but considering Quackity’s crushed front bumper, he’s not too concerned with the condition of the vehicle. He parks just around the corner, outside the nearby deli which is thankfully closed. The side street is deserted, which does make all of this simpler. Jack is sitting in his own car, slouched down in his seat, keeping the shitty Pontiac in his sights. He screams when Tubbo knocks on the window.

“Uh– Uh, hey. He– He hasn’t moved,” Jack tries to pretend he hadn’t just jumped out of his skin, getting out of the car.

“Good,” Tubbo stares, puzzled, at what might be letters carved onto the driver’s side door of the targeted car. “What’s that say?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack waves him off, then he notices the large box in Tubbo’s hands. The box lacks a lid, exposing wiring and metal casing in a rather recognizable array. “What’s that?” Jack stares at it, despite it being quite obvious.

Tubbo adjusts his grip on the box, holding onto it tighter. “...a bomb.”

“A– a bomb?!” Jack sputters. “You– oh, fucking hell–” He spins around, as if hoping someone will appear on the street to make this less of a nightmare for him.

“Yep,” Tubbo says grimly. He makes towards the car, Jack frantically trying to cut him off.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hey! Hey, Quackity said don’t do anything he wouldn’t,” Jack says warningly.

“You called Quackity?!” Tubbo says exasperatedly. He ducks past Jack, “well, that doesn’t change my plans, currently,” he says sarcastically.

“Hey! He– He also said don’t do anything he would!” Jack points at him like he’s raised some grand epiphany.

Tubbo gives him a look, mulling it over. “Well, Big Q’s motivations and machinations are often a mystery to me, so!” He raises the bomb cheerfully and continues over to the car.

“W-What are you planning on doing?!” Jack follows him, voice just a bit higher.

“Gonna crawl under the car, and I am going to wire this thing into the ignition.”

Jack’s voice is cracked and hoarse as he says something incomprehensible, that might just be incredulously repeating what Tubbo had said. Jack tries again. “And– And you know how to fucking do that, do you?!”

“In theory, yes.”

“In theory?!”

“I suggest you stand at the other end of the block, Jack Manifold!” Tubbo says brightly.

“The other end of– No!” Jack says smartly. “No, actually I’m not gonna do that. I am– I am gonna stay right here, and you are not gonna blow either of us up!”

Tubbo is touched by Jack’s willingness to die beside him, even as Jack’s hopes were probably to convince Tubbo to abandon the bomb idea, so nonetheless he continues. “That’s the spirit,” Tubbo has placed the bomb on the sidewalk, dug out some pliers and a small torch from his pocket, and is now crawling underneath it, small enough he just manages it.

“Oh my god…” Jack says weakly, once again looking desperately around the deserted street. Quackity nor Tommy and Wilbur appear to save him.

“Hand that to me, will you, Jack?” Tubbo’s muffled voice reaches him.

“Hand what–? The bomb?!”

“Yeah, what else?”

Tommy and Wilbur had quickly abandoned their watch of the car from the alleyway.

“This is boring,” Tommy whines. “And stop smoking! You’re gonna blow our cover,” he slaps the cigarette out of Wilbur’s mouth.

“Oy!” Wilbur says indignantly, startled, but not surprised by Tommy’s audacity. “What cover? There is no one here. I think Jack might just be taking the piss.”

“Jack doesn’t have the smarts to trick me.”

“Right, sure.”

Tommy sneaks a look around the corner, the car remains empty a few yards away. “What building do you think he went into?”

“What? I dunno, could’ve been any of them.”

“Probably the one he parked in front of.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Um, yes necessarily, there are like, no other cars parked here, he didn’t have to park there, so that’s probably the building he went into!” Tommy nods smartly. “It does look like it’s got a garage, maybe a warehouse or storage building or something? Dunno why he didn’t park his car inside of it then, that would’ve been smarter.”

“Right.”

Tommy scans the alleyway, assessing the side of the building he’s deemed most likely to contain whoever they’re after. He starts treading toward the back of the alley, where a rusted fire escape hangs with half a broken ladder swinging forlornly from the bottom of it. “Get over here, Wilbur!”

Wilbur glances agitatedly from the car they’re actually supposed to to be watching to Tommy. He sighs, following the kid. “What is it? And shouldn’t you not be shouting in case you blow our cover?” He says teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah sure, come on, give me a boost up,” Tommy nods to the ladder.

“Why?”

“Because, dickhead, do you not see how busted up that window frame is? I can totally get in there,” Tommy nods to the second floor again.

“Into the building. Where we think the guy who shot your friend is hiding?” Wilbur says skeptically.

“Yes, obviously. Reconnaissance, remember?” Tommy bounces from foot to foot, having made up his mind and now restless to get up there. “Fine, if you’re gonna be a pussy about it…” Tommy backs up down the alley, eyeing the ladder carefully, before running at it at a full sprint. He actually makes it, jumping high enough to grab the second to bottom rung, which with an agonizing screech, promptly becomes unattached in a shower of rust, Tommy instead smacking into Wilbur at dangerous speeds.

Wilbur squeals, hitting the ground hard, Tommy unharmed as he basically lands on top of him. Tommy laughs, staggering to his feet. Wilbur remains laying on the filthy alley floor for a moment, weary.

“Thanks for the catch, Wil,” Tommy says smugly. “I mean, I could’ve made it if you’d just given me a boost like I asked.”

“No, no even this is better than you getting up there, ‘cause you would get yourself shot, and it would be my problem,” Wilbur says grumpily, slowly sitting up, not wanting to put his bare hands on the dirty pavement, its foliage made up of broken glass and even a few old needles, thankfully Wilbur did not land on any.

“Perhaps,” Tommy shrugs. “Come on, then, let’s go back to keeping watch,” he offers Wilbur a hand off the ground.

Wilbur stares at it warily, recalling earlier that same day Tommy brightly confessing to offering him a hand up just to let him fall. Wilbur accepts it, deciding if Tommy tries to let go and drop him, he’ll drag the kid down with him. Tommy doesn’t, he doesn’t even seem to try, just pulls him off the ground and heads back down the alley.

“Let’s check out the back.”

Karl parks around the corner, near the deli, scanning the street carefully. “Okay, so, we’re just– They followed the guy that shot you? Now what?”

Quackity winces, and not just from his freshly bandaged shoulder being jostled by the car stopping. “I mean, I doubt Tubbo is planning on throwing the man a birthday party.”

Karl nods, “yeah, alright. Honestly,” Karl glances over at his wounded boyfriend. If the bullet had been six inches lower, Quackity would be dead. “I’m kinda on board with that.”

“That’s the spirit,” Quackity says, going to get out of the car.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, just– Oh my gosh, babe, just let me do some of the work, please,” Karl reaches out to stop him, before quickly getting out and circling the car, his arm around Quackity, supporting him as he leads the way down the street.

The two of them almost crash right into Jack and Tubbo, Jack looking like he’d rip his hair out if he had any, and Tubbo covered in dirt and motor oil.

“What’re you– What’s going on?” Quackity asks.

“Me? What’re you doing here?” Tubbo stares at him.

“Making sure you’re not getting yourself fucking killed!” Quackity is having a harder time sounding authoritative, even walking around is enough to sharpen the pain from his shoulder.

“Uh, guys, I’m guessing that’s the dude–?” Karl nods behind them, where the face Tubbo had seen, livid and horrified and holding a gun, is quickly going to his car, duffle bag in hand.

“Oh, fuck, come on,” Tubbo grabs Jack’s sleeve, pulling him around the corner of the deli, Karl and Quackity following.

“Weren’t you gonna kill the bastard? Why are we running?” Quackity asks.

“Because I’m killing the bastard a bit elaborately,” Tubbo hisses, pressing himself against the brick wall. “I have no clue how big of an explosion we’re gonna get, so–”

“Explosion?”

The alley ends with no other entrances into the building. Tommy is doing his best not to feel disappointed.

“Come on, then. We should resume our watch,” Tommy kicks an old beer can, turning on his heels and rewalking the length of the alley.

“Yeah, like we were supposed to be doing?” Wilbur bumps shoulders with him.

“Oh, like you knew what you were supposed to be doing. Not like you know Tubbo or Big Q!” Tommy scoffs. He approaches the corner and stops, reaching out to hold Wilbur back. “Hold on, he’s out!” He hisses. Tommy watches him carefully. The man gets into his car, throwing a duffle bag in the back seat. He’s definitely planning on getting the hell out of town.

“What’s he doing?” Wilbur whispers, unable to see around the corner from here.

“He’s just getting in his car. He’s probably gonna fucking disappear, and Jack Manifold is nowhere to be found, of course, not doing his fuckin’ job,” Tommy huffs. “He’s j–”

Wilbur does not hear what the man was doing next, as instead Tommy is once again thrown against him, both of them flung to the alley floor. Wilbur’s ears are ringing. It takes him far too long to realize an explosion had just taken a chunk out of the building and thrown the two of them back.

“F-Fuck–” Wilbur’s own words come out muffled. Tommy is still laying back against him. “Come on, we should– We should clear out before this pulls in more trouble–” Wilbur starts to stand. Tommy doesn’t. “Tommy?!” Wilbur shakes him, turning the kid around, coughing in the smoke, it stings his eyes but he can still see clearly Tommy is bleeding. There’s a cut across his forehead, his eyes are closed.

“Oh shit, you cannot be fucking dead, that would be so fucked up–” Wilbur fumbles for Tommy’s wrist, weak with relief to find a pulse. “Oh my god, Tommy, you’re– Fucking hell, oh shit, just– I’m gonna get you help, alright?” Wilbur’s hands are shaking, sticky now with Tommy’s blood. He’s weak, he’s shaken up, he still can’t hear properly, but he struggles to pull Tommy into his arms, standing and staggering toward the only way out, a destroyed street. “You just… you stay with me, man, you’re… you don’t die, remember?” Wilbur cannot bring himself to look at Tommy’s unresponsive expression, he looks only into the smoke. He doesn’t bother shouting for help. He can barely breathe, and if he collapses now, neither of them get out of this. “You… you don’t die.”

#my writing #mafia au #this one was so fun. I am so close to finishing this arc!! :D

13 notes · View notes

gidecns · 7 years

Text

“Oi ━” Gideon turned to the person nearest by, his mouth curled up into a typical mischievous grin. “you mind helping me do a keg stand?”

#morsmordre starter #mmrp event002 #( ★ ━ CONVO. )#//have a slightly intoxicated gid #//also please stop him from doing a keg stand

20 notes · View notes

littlemessyjessi · 2 years

Text

"Mummy Calzones": Billy Hargrove and his Goth GF

Billy Hargrove and His Goth GF

Billy Hargrove of Stranger Things

Billy x PS Reader, Billy x Goth GF

Pre-established relationship

10/10 treats as you as his little dark queen.

Doesn't matter if you're little or not.

You're his baby batling and he'll accept nothing less.

And so like maybe you have to take Home Ec. Idk, maybe it was required (it was the 80s) or maybe you just wanted like an easy class. Idk.

But like maybe one day you have to make something for the whole class concerning bread. And maybe you decided to make calzones because they're bread and you can fill them with delicious fillings. And maybe you decided to make them mummies because it was the perfect opportunity to try the braiding technique.

And then… nobody would even try them in class. You're teacher gave you a weird look and your classmates made fun of you because you're the goth kid. And because 'who makes mummies?'

And like, you're kinda bummed because you worked really hard on them. And so you just kinda drag your feet out to the parking lot at the end of the day because you know Billy is out there waiting to take you home.

And he spots you standing there all dejected with your little tupperware container in your arms and a sad look on your face.

Naturally, this will not stand. So he ask you about it and you tell him because it's Billy and you know he's not gonna stop until he has found the source of your unhappiness and remedied it.

And he's quiet for a moment but then he just takes it from your hands and places a kiss to your forehead.

"Fuck them, baby. More for me." he said and rips the lid off. "I'm fucking starving."

And homeboy just tears into them, complimenting you on your skills because they are admittedly fucking delicious. And he tells you how he loves how you think out of the box. And how creative you are. And how these are clearly superior to regular calzones anyway.

And you fall in love all over again because damn it, he's good.

And it's like that alot with Billy because he knows what it feels like to be singled out.

Sure, he knows he's hot when it comes to high school.

He knows he's attractive and it would be easy for him to get what he wants in that crowd.

He knows he can easily fit in with the popular crowd because he slaughters in basketball, is great in the pool and kills any keg stand competition there is.

But he also knows what it feels like to be ridiculed on a personal level. For literally doing nothing. He knows that kind of pain.

And he hates it. He hates it even more because he loves you so much.

You're his happy place and he couldn't care less what anyone thought about it.

He knows that he can't change the opinions of others.

He can't change the past or the hurt.

However, he knows that he can act in the moment and let you know just how much you mean to him.

So he does.

Every chance he gets.

Hey, loves. Damn. I'm fucking soft ok. Nobody touch me. Anyway, I would love to know what you think of Billy and his goth gf and if you want to see more of them, please just let me know. Because, ugh, I'm so soft for them.

Love, K

@toomanyfictionalboyfriends

@thickemadame

@blackirisposts

@therealmrshale

@thegreatirene

@angelus320

@disneymarina

@sullybot

@kalliravenne

@alisoncdariel

@amethyst09

@leah-halliwell92

@queenlexusloverofbts

@owenniasstars

@adventuresofnight

@tacobacoyeet

@glassesandthunderthighs

@lyn-g

@poopypantsmcgee666-blog

@milkshakelol

@sunnysidesblog

@speedyhandsbonkpalace

@mwitsmejk

@pinkcherrybombs

@abc-abc1234-a

@vj21

@kelly-fushiguro345

@minshookie29

@shycupcakealissa

@m-rae23

@thedarkwinterrose

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove headcanons #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x ps reader #billy hargrove x plus size reader #ps reader #plus size reader #billy hargrove x goth reader #goth reader #stranger things #stranger things x goth reader #stranger things x ps reader #stranger things x plus size reader #goth plus size reader #billy x y/n #billy x you

550 notes · View notes

starryhyuck · 4 years

Text

just like magic. (m)

pairing: fuckboy!jaehyun x fuckgirl!reader

words: 4k+

summary: jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: multiple sex partners, public sex, sex on the roof, multiple orgasms, degradation, wall sex, creampie

Your head rests on the bathroom mirror, inhaling and exhaling loudly as Mingyu finds a wipe to clean you up.

“Ugh. I can’t believe we did it in Bambam’s gross bathroom.”

Mingyu chuckles, the deep sound echoing in the small space. “Please. Don’t act like you’re so disgusted now.” You roll your eyes at his comment while he cleans the cum smeared on the inside of your thighs. “Besides, it’s not like you were having fun at the party anyways.”

You shrug and jump down from the sink, straightening out your skirt and trying to look somewhat presentable.

“True,” you murmur, fixing your hair in the mirror. “Jungkook couldn’t come tonight so it was way easier to find you.”

He scoffs. “As if Jungkook could fuck you better than me.”

You laugh and find the lipgloss sitting at the bottom of your bag. “Oh, he can. He’s not a little gym rat for nothing, you know.”

Mingyu huffs, leaning down to pull your panties back up and straightening your skirt. This scene isn’t unfamiliar to the both of you, although doing it in Bambam’s bathroom certainly was. You’re pretty sure Bambam smoked a shit ton of weed before his party started, and Mingyu opens the bathroom window to release some of the odor.

“See you in 104. Did you finish the extra credit paper already?”

You shook your head, opening the bathroom door and hearing the lively party continue downstairs.

“Nope, not planning to,” you give him one last kiss on the cheek. “Nice fuck, Gyu. Tell Jungkook to show up next time.”

He rolls his eyes again and you two depart, almost toppling over as you bump into Jung Jaehyun on the stairs. His arm quickly slides around your waist to prevent you from falling. He smiles at you.

“How was Mingyu?”

“How was Jennie?”

He chuckles. “Good. As always. You really have to start expanding your little black book. Mingyu and Jungkook aren’t always going to be around, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow and step away from him, shooing his arm away from you. “You don’t think I have backups, silly? Doyoung is at my beck and call, I assure you.”

He smirks, raising his red solo cup to you. “If you ever need me.”

You dismiss him, walking down the stairway of Bambam and Yugyeom’s place. You and Jaehyun had always been similar in many ways, especially in the way you ‘connect’ with other people. If you two ever had a body count competition, it would surely have Johnny’s head spinning all night at the numbers. You never fucked Jaehyun, however, simply because you had no desire to. You’ve known Jaehyun for as long as you’ve known Mingyu, but the only personality trait you’ve ever deducted from Jaehyun was that he’s excellent in bed.

That, and the fact that during your first year of college, Yuta spread some rumor that Jaehyun masturbates to the thought of you.

No big deal.

You find Minghao and Sicheng speaking in the kitchen, and you whine when you clutch Minghao’s arm.

“I’m tired, Hao.”

“You leave us to go fuck Mingyu for a hour and now you want to go home?”

You can hear the condescending tone in Minghao’s voice and you do your best to ignore it. You offer him your best toothy grin. “Come on, designated driver. You’re not even doing anything remotely fun!”

“Hey!” Sicheng interjects. “We were actually just talking.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks and Sicheng nearly growls at you.

“You’re cute, but you and Minghao talk all the time. Nothing new. Plus, all of us are roommates, dumbass! We could talk at home any time we want to.”

“Fine, fine,” Minghao concedes, laying his cup down on the kitchen counter. You ignore the fact that Yugyeom’s tongue is shoved down some girl’s throat only five feet away from all of you. “Did you already clean yourself up? I don’t want any of Mingyu’s germs in my car.”

“Are we sure it was Mingyu?” Sicheng counters. “It could’ve been Jungkook or Doyoung or Wonwoo or Jinyoung or-“

“Alright, alright,” you glare at him. “And yes, it was Mingyu. He already cleaned me up so you won’t get any Gyu germs.”

“Good.”

Minghao still has trouble trusting you after that one time you wore a skirt with no panties and let Kun’s cum spill all over Minghao’s front seat. Sicheng is still extremely traumatized from the situation.

You exit the house party with your roommates, almost stopping at the sight of Kunhang looking like a fucking dream near the speakers-

“Come on, you horny asshole,” Sicheng grunts, pushing you out the door.

—

“Did you hear the news?”

Your eyes flutter at the sight of Nakamoto Yuta, who is leaning over your desk, smiling. You sigh and decide to entertain him.

“What is it now, Yuta?”

“A little birdy told me that a certain Jung Jaehyun has fallen for Mingyu’s girl,” Yuta’s smirk widens when you furrow your eyebrows.

“Mingyu has a girlfriend?”

He huffs. “You, dumbass.”

You giggle at the thought of dating Mingyu and roll your eyes. “You’re full of shit, Nakamoto.”

He stands straight, his figure towering over you. You peek your head out to see if the lecture has started yet so Yuta can get the fuck away from you.

“Then why did I hear Jaehyun calling your name when he was getting his dick wet this morning?”

The accusation has your eyebrows raising. You barely know Jaehyun, only from fleeting stories from Mingyu and Jungkook. You also know that Yuta’s always full of shit, spreading rumors about various people just because he can.

“Get your head out of your ass, Yuta.”

He laughs at your dismissive nature, leaning in again. There’s a troublesome glint in his eyes.

“And what if I told you Mingyu said Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five?”

You challenge him. “I would say that the cum in Miyeon’s panties say otherwise.”

He smiles and steps back when the professor finally enters the room.

“Whatever you want to believe.”

That conversation with Yuta was three years ago. He’s graduated long since, but the rumor about Jaehyun still pops up here and there. Jaehyun never addressed it with you, and when you asked Mingyu about it once, he just laughed.

“A lot of guys on campus jack off to the thought of you. Are you surprised?”

You think about the memory as you watch Soojin straddle Jaehyun, her hair falling over the side of her face as she leans in to kiss him. The rest of the party ignores them, mainly focused on how Bambam is nearly toppling over trying to do a keg stand.

A hand slides around your waist and you feel someone’s lips attach to your neck.

“Gyu told me you were looking for me the other day,” Jungkook murmurs lowly in your ear. “Did you miss me?”

You smile when you feel his fingers inch closer to your breast, hands roaming all over your body.

“Yes. Your absence made me fuck Mingyu in Bambam’s germ-covered bathroom.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound shoots straight to your core.

“I’m here now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Your eyes drift upwards again, startled to find Jaehyun already gazing at you. Soojin’s sucking at his neck, but his eyes are locked on you, watching the way Jungkook paws at your breast.

Yuta’s voice rings in your ears. Jaehyun’s loved you since you were five.

You push the thought away as Jungkook’s mouth envelops yours. Jaehyun couldn’t love you, Yuta was just full of shit.

—

“You’re late.”

You narrow your eyes at Mingyu, who brushes off the time. He promised to meet up with you yesterday to finish your project for 104 and give you a quick lunch time fuck. You’re a little disheartened to see he’s tugged Doyoung and Jaehyun along.

“Don’t be so upset, frowning doesn’t look good on you,” Mingyu teases, sliding in the chair across from you. Doyoung sits next to him, and Jaehyun awkwardly takes the spot next to you. “We were just playing a little basketball outside. The time slipped my mind.”

“Well, I guess it slips my mind that I’m supposed to fuck you before your next class.”

Doyoung laughs and seizes the opportunity. “I, on the other hand, never promised anything and my schedule is conveniently free for the whole day.” He winks at you, his gums showing brightly as he smiles.

You smirk when Mingyu elbows him in the side. Jaehyun is oddly quiet and you turn to face him while Mingyu hisses at Doyoung.

“I saw you and Soojin getting it on last weekend. How was it?”

He smiles tightly. “Good, as always. Jungkook per usual?”

You nod. “The little gym rat won’t stop exercising. He was talking to me about his routine all night. I almost just got myself off instead.”

Something flickers in Jaehyun’s gaze, and it’s gone so quickly that you might’ve missed it.

“I can’t imagine why that would be preferred, especially when you have most of the male population lining up to get a taste of you.”

There’s a hidden implication in his words, and you take the chance.

“Are you part of that male population?”

He smirks at your question. Before he has a chance to answer, Mingyu’s voice fills your ears again.

“Anyways, my dorm is free and I can afford to miss my next class. Wanna head up? Promise I’ll go down on you as an apology.”

You scoff at Mingyu’s half-assed proposal, and stand to leave. “I’ll pass. Get a watch next time if you want your dick wet. I’m assuming you’re going to finish most of our project since I was waiting here for over a hour.”

Mingyu frowns. “But-“

“But?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

His shoulders slump. “Fine. I’ll finish the damn project.”

You lean over to pinch his cheeks. “Good Mingyu. I’ll see all of you at Minghao’s birthday bash.”

You depart without another word, ignoring the burn of Jaehyun’s stare. When you arrive back to your apartment, Minghao is organizing his wine cabinet while Sicheng talks to Tzuyu at the kitchen counter. You sigh and throw your bag across the island.

“Boys are dumb.”

Tzuyu laughs. “Did Mingyu forget what time it is again?”

“As always,” you confirm, searching for anything consumable in your fridge. As expected, no one’s gone grocery shopping in a week. Guess you’ll have to raid Wonwoo’s apartment tonight.

Sicheng huffs. “Good. I don’t need you getting any more Mingyu germs before Minghao’s party tomorrow.”

“And what does Hao’s party have anything to do with me getting laid?” Sicheng rolls his eyes at your question, and you smile sweetly at him. You decide to favor the leftover pieces of ham sitting at the back of the fridge. “Tzuyu, back me up here. Didn’t you have a good time with Jaehyun two weeks ago?”

Tzuyu’s cheeks flush as she recalls what you’re referring to. At Jungwoo’s party, she and Jaehyun were practically fucking each other in the middle of the living room.

“I guess. He was weird about some things.”

You frown, removing the lid off of the container and shoving a piece of ham in your mouth. “Like what?”

She looks embarrassed to be talking about such intimate things in front of Sicheng, but your roommate is unbothered. He’s heard enough of your escapades to be unfazed by any mentions of sex.

“He didn’t want to look at me when we did it. He told me I had to face the pillow or else he couldn’t cum that way.”

You shrug. “So he likes it from behind. Nothing too weird about that. Which way do you prefer, Sicheng?”

He glares at you. “None of your business.”

You giggle at how cute he is before Tzuyu continues. “I mean, it wasn’t just that. He didn’t really like it when I made noises. I had to be as quiet as possible.”

“Ugh, that’s fucked. Guys can grunt in the nastiest ways possible but they hate it when we make an ounce of noise. I hope you’re not that way, Sicheng.”

His glare burns. “None. Of. Your. Business.”

“Yeah, it was weird. He’s really good in bed though.”

You chuckle. “I would hope so. Anyways, who’s on the guest list for tomorrow night?”

Sicheng sighs, and you wonder if he thinks about moving out and living with a less horny roommate.

“Basically anyone you’ve fucked before since you’ve slept with all of Hao’s friends.”

You frown. “That’s not fun. I like someone new once in a while.”

“No funny business at Minghao’s party, I mean it. We can’t be cutting his cake while you’re getting railed in your room.”

You boop his nose. “No promises.”

—

Sicheng’s done this on purpose.

All of the men at Minghao’s party have flocked away from you, like Sicheng sent them all a mass text before the party started or something. You tried to slide up to Mingyu but then he was quickly taking the offer to do body shots with someone else. It’s as if you would bite all their dicks off with the way they’re running from you.

It’s the middle of the party when you grow tired of hearing Jieqiong’s banter with Jun.

You step out of the apartment for a few minutes and head up to the roof, arms wrapping around yourself to shield from the cold. You know you should’ve went to Wonwoo yesterday, especially since Sicheng has apparently made it a no fuck zone for tonight.

You jump when you feel a jacket moving over your shoulders. You’re even more startled to see Jaehyun next to you.

“Oh, hey. When did you get here?”

He smiles, and it hurts your eyes a little by how pretty he is.

“About a hour ago. I’m not surprised you didn’t notice, considering I could feel your rage from five feet away.”

You laugh dryly. “Did Sicheng send you a text too?”

“No, but Mingyu told me about it. I assume he only sent it to the guys you’ve slept with before.”

You nod. “Yeah, probably. I’m off limits to all males tonight.”

The two of you stand together in silence, gazing out at the view of your city. You’ve never felt an urge to get an answer from Jaehyun before about Yuta’s rumor, but now that he’s here, it’s all you can think about.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about the rumor Yuta spread around in freshman year?”

His back stiffens. The seconds pass in a deafening thump, and you’re starting to feel like you shouldn’t have brought it up.

He finally sighs. “How long have we known each other?”

You blink. Did he really have to respond to a question with another question?

You think back to when you first met Jaehyun and Mingyu. You were only five then, and you screamed in the middle of the classroom because Mingyu had spilled paint all over the front of your shirt. You remember Jaehyun handing you a wipe to clean yourself up, ears bright red.

You grin at the memory. “Since I found out Mingyu was the clumsiest kid on earth.”

He chuckles. “You never really saw it, did you?”

“Saw what?”

You’re even more confused by Jaehyun’s vague ass answers. He averts his gaze from you, and you suddenly feel a lot colder on this rooftop.

“How much I liked you.”

The statement causes you to freeze. So Yuta was right - Jung Jaehyun has loved you since you were five. Still, it doesn’t make any sense. You’ve been fucking Mingyu since high school and Jaehyun never seemed bothered by it, considering he and Mingyu were still best friends. In fact, you’ve been in bed with most of his friend group and he’s never said a word about it. His friends never even mention his liking for you, so you have to assume that they don’t know of it either.

As if he could sense your rampant thoughts running wild, he squashes them.

“I thought you loved Mingyu. I thought that when the two of you first started sleeping together, it would develop into something more. It’s why I never said anything to him. He knew, but I’m sure he thought I didn’t mind.”

You’re baffled. You don’t even know how to respond to this newfound information. Maybe you should’ve stayed downstairs at the party.

“Mingyu is an asshole,” you finally conclude. Jaehyun’s shoulders relax when you speak. “And so am I. I swear, I didn’t know, Jaehyun. I would’ve-“

“You would’ve stopped seeing Mingyu? And Jungkook? And Doyoung, and Wonwoo, and-“

“Okay, okay,” you raise a hand up to stop him before glaring. “You’re not entirely innocent either. I’m friends with most of the girls you’ve slept with too.”

His eyes darken. “And have you asked them what it’s like to be with me? How I have to turn them over and imagine it’s you before I can get hard? How I have to keep them quiet because their moans are too loud or simply because it doesn’t sound like you?” How-“

“Jaehyun,” you whisper, feeling like the wind has gotten knocked out of your chest. You’re also trying to ignore the wetness that’s pooled in your underwear. “Are you saying-“

“I’m saying that I’ve been running circles around you since we were five and you’ve never noticed. I’ve had to hear countless nights of Mingyu and Jungkook talking about how sweet your pussy is when they slide into you. How pretty you are when you’re stuffing their cocks far down your throat. How you let them take you anywhere, any time, because you enjoy it as much as they do.”

You swallow. He’s inches away from you now, hands dancing around your waist carefully. You quickly check the time.

One hour before Minghao cuts his cake. That should be enough.

You grab the fabric of Jaehyun’s shirt, pulling him to you as his lips crash into yours. He grunts, gripping your sides and pressing you against the railing. Your eyes glance down briefly to see how high up you two are.

“Drop me and I’ll kill you.”

He laughs, chasing you again and quickly moving to undress you. You ignore the goosebumps rising on your arms when Jaehyun nips at your neck, fingers dipping into your panties. “So pretty,” he murmurs, licking a stripe across your collarbones. You moan when he slides a finger into your heat. “That’s it, baby. Sound so fucking good.”

He slips another finger in, basking in the glory of your moans. “We have to hurry,” you mumble breathily. “Sicheng will come looking if he knows I’m gone for too long. It’s like he can sense when I’m fucking someone.”

Jaehyun laughs, moving back up to kiss you. “He can watch if he wants to then.”

“I wanna-“ you gasp when he curls his fingers. “I wanna suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. He’s fingering you faster now, and you can hear the squelch of your wetness fill the air. You gasp, desperately holding onto his forearm. “I’ll fuck your mouth next time, I promise. I need to see you cum now.”

You unravel in no time, moaning loudly as you fall apart on Jaehyun’s fingers. He coaxes you through your orgasm, murmuring praises in your ear. You whimper when he pulls away from you, licking up the remaining essence on his fingers.

“Jaehyun,” you say frantically, pawing at him. “I need you inside me.”

You turn over so that your back is facing him, and you think he’s about to slide your underwear down but instead, he swivels you around.

“Need to see you,” he whispers. “Jump.”

You do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him with much more fervor. You moan when his hands grip your sides roughly, pressing you against the concrete. You sit on the ledge of the rooftop, trying to ignore the genuine fear of falling.

He’s quickly shoving his jeans down his thighs and you whimper.

“Hurry, Jae.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m here, I’m right here,” he hisses, pulling out his cock and giving it a few strokes. Your eyes widen at the size — he was surely bigger and thicker than Mingyu or Jungkook. He chuckles at your stare, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Bigger than what you normally have?”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t tell me you idiots had a dick measuring contest.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

Then, he’s pushing your panties to the side and sliding into you. You gasp, his fingers roughly gripping you in place to make sure you don’t fall. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, thrusting rapidly as soon as he feels you.

“Good little slut,” he grunts. “So pretty and pliant for me. Is my cock too big for you to take, baby?”

“You’re gonna fucking,” you pant, whining when his cock hits you deeper. “You’re gonna fucking split me in half, asshole.”

He grins mischievously. “That’s the goal.”

You’re so lost in the feeling of him that the both of you fail to hear the door to the rooftop open. You’re startled when Sicheng’s voice booms in the air.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! We haven’t even cut the cake yet!”

“Sicheng, I-“ you shamelessly whimper when Jaehyun hits your sweet spot, not slowing down in the slightest despite Sicheng watching. “W-We’ll be d-down before Hao c-cuts the cake.”

“Horny assholes,” you hear your roommate mutter before the door to the rooftop is closing again.

Jaehyun chortles. “He should’ve sent that text to me too if he was so concerned.”

“Fuck him,” you groan. “And fuck me harder.”

He listens to your command, pushing into you so deep that you almost fall off the ledge. You scream as your upper body dangles off the rooftop, but you can hear Jaehyun’s giggle. Your fear is overtaken by arousal when you realize his cock is hitting you deeper in this position.

“Cum, cum,” you whisper. “I’m cumming.”

He groans when you tighten around him, convulsing around his cock. When you recover, he’s hoisting you back up, bringing your chest to his as he carries you. You have no idea where he’s going, but with every step, his cock slides deeper into your soaking cunt.

The door to the rooftop is opening again and you realize you’re in the stairwell.

“Get down, hands on the railing.”

You shakily follow his command, ignoring the wobble of your legs as you grip the metal bars. He’s pushing into you again before you can take a breath.

“I-I thought you needed to see me,” you say, your back turned to him.

“You’re right.”

Then, he’s pushing you against the wall with force and abusing your pussy. You practically scream, clawing at his back while he pounds you into the wall.

“Do you want to know exactly what Yuta heard three years ago?” He groans against your neck. You can barely form coherent sentences, and you’re pretty sure you had another orgasm that you haven’t even revived from. “He heard me desperately fucking my cock into my hand, whimpering your name. All I could imagine that day was the little short dress you wore to Yugyeom’s party, and how Jungkook’s hands were all over you as soon as you stepped through the door. I fucking came so hard that I had to wash my sheets before Mingyu came back to the dorm.”

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” you whisper frantically. You’re unraveling again — cumming around his cock while he fucks you hard. “Cum with me. Inside, cum inside. Please, please.”

He grunts lowly. “Yeah? You want my cum? What about the rest of them — how many of them have spilled inside you?”

“I’ll keep it in,” you promise him, just wanting your hole to be filled. “I’ll walk around Hao’s party with your cum dripping down my thighs. How does that sound?”

And he’s groaning, giving one final thrust before he empties inside of you. You gasp at how much cum he has to give you, some of it spilling down your lips and onto the floor.

The both of you are panting lowly, trying to recover from your orgasms. You faintly hear a chorus of people singing Happy Birthday two floors down.

“Fuck, Sicheng’s gonna kill us.”

#nct smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun #jaehyun smut

4K notes · View notes

luvdsc · 4 years

Text

august.

Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him.

pairing :: liu yangyang x reader genre :: fluff, angst ⋮ best friend + college au word count :: 10,500 words warnings :: none. playlist :: time lapse (taeyeon) ⋆ 2 kids (taemin) ⋆ daydreams (exes) ⋆ sharing you (lany) ⋆ august (taylor swift) ⋆ too close to love (will hyde) ⋆ sad stripped (lany) ⋆ strangers (taemin) ⋆ the 1 (taylor swift) author’s note :: can you believe that i literally wrote this entire 10k fic in one day aka today ??? whew this gave me the same rush that i got when i wrote my research paper in the class it was due for the day of, printed it out during break, and handed it in at the end of class :’) ↳ part of the almost collaboration series.

Liu Yangyang is jumping fences to escape late night parties, shared laughter over childhood favorite cartoons on February mornings, midnight dancing in the refrigerator light, and November kisses stolen in between the shelves of the nearby 7-Eleven. He is obscure doodles in the margins of your physics notes, good intentions laced in December’s mistakes, strawberry lemonade and broken truths wrapped in summer bliss, and September endings with honest lies.

He is your August, he is your everything, but he isn’t yours.

AUGUST 2018.

August has barely begun to fade away.

You’re eighteen years old, and you’re drunk off of your first taste of freedom, one toe already dipping into the shiny pleasures of adulthood. Your new roommate, Karina, has excitedly told you about the famous beach night themed frat party that kick starts every school year at your university. Everybody who’s anybody would be there, and your heart already races at the thought of going to your very first college party.

“Coral or blue?” Karina holds up a solid colored neon blue bikini and a striped, bright pink one for you to choose between.

“Blue.” You nod towards the first option, and she discards the other one back into the open drawer. You pull out a marigold yellow one and a black one lined with white strings, wordlessly gesturing towards them, and she immediately points to the latter.

“That one is gonna look so cute on you. Well, both would, but I love that one.”

You grin at her, silently thanking whoever decided to pair the two of you together for the random dorming. “Perfect, thanks. Do you know any of the guys hosting the party?”

“Yeah, Dejun? He’s really sweet and a year above us. I met him in the music elective I’m taking.” She turns to take off her shirt and tosses it to the side, pulling on her bikini and wriggling into a pair of ripped jean shorts. “You?”

“Kind of? Jaemin is in my project group in Intro to Engineering. He’s rushing for that frat.” You quickly change out of your outfit and into your chosen swim top and daisy dukes. You make sure to grab a pair of black flip flops from your closet. The bundle of nerves in your stomach grows as you step out of your dorm with your new friend, a bit anxious but also excited to attend your very first party.

Thank goodness for summer weather. It’s still a nice, warm 75 degrees Fahrenheit according to your weather app when you and Karina finally make your way to the frat house. The sun barely begins to set, but the party slash dayger had started earlier and is in full swing. There’s a DJ set up out front, blasting some sort of EDM music, and the lawn is absolutely covered in foam. You see the source of it shakily set up on the roof of the patio along with a couple of boys sitting up there, Hawaiian shirts barely covering their figures. You catch the eye of Jaemin, who happily waves at you from his vantage point, and you wave back at him.

“Oh my god, I love college,” Karina says, grabbing your arm excitedly as the two of you step into the foam. You reach down to pick up some of it before flicking it towards your roommate, who squeals before scooping some up and throwing it in your direction as well.

“Ready for our first shitty college drink?” You pull her through the mass of other students and towards the horribly decorated tiki bar stationed in the corner of the patio.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

The two of you stumble over, still throwing handfuls of foam at each other amidst giggles before making a full stop in front of the bar. The older boy behind the makeshift counter lazily grins at you both, a shell necklace hanging loosely around his neck, and his unbuttoned orange Hawaiian shirt gives you a nice flash of his toned abs.

“Hey, I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two?”

“Two vodka shots, please.”

“Alright, ID?”

You freeze, and Karina’s grip on your arm tightens, and then Johnny laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Relax, I’m just messing with you, freshie. Two vodka shots coming right up.”

He pulls out two small plastic cups and pours out the drinks for you. “How many do you want?”

“This is good for now, thanks.” You and Karina pick up the drinks, smiling a little nervously at him. He flashes another amused smile at you. “Alright, come back anytime if you want another.”

You move away from the patio, and Karina follows close behind. The two of you throw back the drinks and dispose of the empty cups quickly. The burning sensation in your throat disappears after a few seconds, and you turn to your roommate. “Should we find our friends?”

“I think I see Dejun back there! Let’s go say hi, I can introduce you to him.” Karina drags you through the rising foam, the bubbles clinging to your skin, and when you go past the DJ stand, you feel the pounding bass reverberating in your chest harder than ever. You trek past the gate and into the backyard where the foam has risen to your waist, thanks to the enclosed fences. She taps on the shoulder of a boy with the prettiest almond eyes you have ever seen, and you shyly smile at him when he greets you.

“Hey, I’m Dejun.”

Oh my god, even his voice sounds pretty. Older college boys are definitely better and hotter than high school boys. Heck, they’re better than freshman boys. Nobody wants to date a freshman dude, not even the freshman girls.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand, but then realize how stupid that must be. You hastily start to retract your hand, but he laughs and warmly grasps your hand. Smiling at you, he shakes it firmly, squeezing your hand gently before letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The butterflies in your stomach grow in volume as the conversation goes on, and you’re positively enamored by the end of the night. Karina had given you a look earlier before walking off with Dejun’s friend and joining the dancing crowd. With the addition of his phone number in your pocket and a promise to show you a new song he’s working on with his guitar next Friday, you’re walking on cloud nine.

“Do you want something to drink? I need a refill, and I can go grab you one,” he asks, and you’re about to offer to go with him, but then you remember the teasing upperclassman and simply agree, asking for another shot of vodka.

After he disappears, you look around, eyeing the crowd and wondering if you can spot your roommate anywhere. You bump into someone lightly and turn around to apologize. Your eyes meet a pair of curiously bright ones.

“Sorry about that, I’m looking for my roomie.”

The boy gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. He’s wearing one of those dumb Hawaiian shirts, too, and it’s unbuttoned, but he has a white T-shirt layered underneath it. “No biggie, it’s a massive party and it’s crowded. Who are you looking for?”

“Ah, I don’t know if you know her, but Karina? She went off with this dude, Kunhang, I think?”

His eyes light up at that name. “Oh, I know him! I saw him earlier by the keg stands inside. Your friend might be there, too. I can—”

“THE COPS ARE COMING!” A loud voice bellows, and you freeze up. Suddenly, the music is shut off as everyone starts running away. You start to panic, the terror rising in your chest, and the boy in front of you grabs your hand and pulls you with him. “What are you doing?! Don’t just stand there! We gotta go!”

“Wait, but Kar—” You start to object, but cut yourself off when you bump into his back as he abruptly stops. He scans the backyard, quickly assessing the situation before turning to you.

“There’s way too many people trapped in here, we’re not gonna make it to the gate. We need to climb over the fence. I’ll hoist you up, and you can help me up from there.”

“I don’t even know you,” you protest, and he throws you a look.

“Hi, I’m Yangyang, nice to meet you, I don’t want to get my ass hauled out by the police and continue the icebreakers in jail, so let’s move now. We good?”

“Yeah, okay, we’re good,” you say faintly, mind still whirling around as you try to grasp the situation. “I’m Y/N.”

“Great, now up you go.”

He immediately picks you up without any warning, and you almost fall backwards, arms flailing before you grasp the top of the fence and pull yourself up. Balancing precariously on top of it, you grab his arm, tugging him up until he’s sitting right next to you, too. The both of you swing your legs over the fence and jump down to the other side. You let out a sigh of relief, squatting down as you clutch your heart.

“Oh my god, we made it. I didn’t get arrested at my first party.”

“What an amazing accomplishment.” Yangyang brushes off the back of his shorts. “We aren’t going to jail. Freshman year is gonna be a breeze if your bar is set this low.”

“Hey!” You frown at him, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know I’m a freshman?”

“It’s written all over your face.” You give him a look, and he relents. “Only a freshman would be this scared of getting caught.”

“So are you an upperclassman?”

“Nah, this is my first party, too. I’m rushing for Nu Chi. Hold on, wait here.” He sneaks around the edge of the fence, peering around for a few seconds before jogging back towards you. “Okay, the police are over there. I’m gonna have to wait a while before going back in.”

“You have to go back?”

“Part of tonight’s rush process,” he sighs before turning to you. “Do you live on campus?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk back now,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “It’s late, and I’m not in a partying mood anymore.”

“I can walk you back,” he offers, and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“That’d be great, thanks.”

The two of you start the trek back, an awkward lull in the conversation making itself known. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering slightly when a soft breeze picks up. There’s a light rustling noise, and you pay no mind to it until a soft cloth is draped over your shoulders. Eyes widening, you notice the colorful, palm tree-printed button down shirt wrapped around you and the boy next to you, looking straight ahead with his hands shoved into his pockets. Smiling to yourself, you slip on the shirt, loosely buttoning the front of it.

“So, Yangyang,” you casually begin, testing his name on your tongue for the first time. You decide you like it. It’s cute. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow, and you continue, “Since our lives are no longer in jeopardy, we can continue the icebreakers, right?”

His lips curve into a smile. “Alright, shoot. What’s your first question?”

“Captain America or Iron Man?”

“Oh, Iron Man, hands down. He’s so…”

You meet him in August.

FEBRUARY 2019.

“Hey, where’s your cereal? The Reese’s one?”

February marks six months of your relationship with Dejun. It also marks six months of your friendship with Yangyang. It is time for your weekly Sunday rituals of watching old cartoons and eating breakfast, and you could’ve sworn that box was still half full last week. You rummage through the top drawer Yangyang had designated for snacks and other foods in his dorm as he takes out the milk from his mini fridge and carries it over to his desk.

“I ran out a few days ago. There’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch somewhere in there though.”

With a victorious cry, you manage to pull out the slightly crushed box of the aforementioned cereal from underneath the packages of flamin’ hot Cheetos and spicy nacho Doritos and triumphantly bring it over to your best friend. He already pulls out two bowls (which were stolen from the dining hall) and hands over the plastic spoons in his grasp (which was also taken from the dining hall).

“Thanks.” After dropping a spoon into each bowl, you shake out the sugary cereal squares before pouring the milk because you’re not an absolute heathen who puts milk in first, like Sicheng. Yangyang clambers up to his top bunk bed, and you carefully pass over the two bowls of cereal, milk sloshing precariously near the edges. You climb up afterwards, and he gives you your bowl once you settle down.

“So, Scooby Doo or Pokémon?”

“Mm, we watched Pokémon last Sunday already, so let’s do Scooby Doo this time.” He nods in agreement, pulling up the cartoon from the queue in Netflix, and the two of you lean back against the ginormous mound of pillows and stuffed animals of his that occupy nearly half of his bed.

You’re shoveling a spoonful of cereal into your mouth when he casually asks, “So how’re you and Dejun doing?”

Choking slightly, you quickly swallow. “We’re doing good. I think he booked a table at the Italian restaurant down the street for Valentine’s Day. Are you doing anything for Valentine’s?”

“I’m forcing Renjun to come watch that “‘Happy Death Day’ movie with me.” The faint sounds of the Scooby Doo theme song plays in the background as you hum in acknowledgement, mouth twisting into a mischievous smirk.

“That’s so sweet. So who confessed to who? Not gonna lie, I thought you had a crush on Hyuck, not Jun.”

“... I would shove you right now, but I just did my laundry, and rewashing my comforter is expensive and I’m out of quarters.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before lifting his bowl up to sip the best part of having Cinnamon Toast Crunch: the milk infused with all the cinnamony, sugary goodness. You let your spoon fall back into your bowl with a soft clink, a sudden worrying thought popping into your head.

“I bought him some customized guitar picks and a pretty composition book. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“That’s a pretty basic gift, isn’t it? It feels like something Kun would get him,” he teases, but his heart falls when he notices you chewing on your bottom lip, spoon held limply in your hand.

“Hey, I’m just joking, of course he would like it. He’s completely whipped. He’ll love anything from you.” Yangyang’s voice grows softer, and he fiddles with a stray thread on his comforter, avoiding eye contact with you. “I know I would.”

He looks up slightly and sees you smiling gratefully at him, eyes shining bright. He quickly ducks his head, turning away slightly to hide the hues of pink blooming on his cheeks. He feels you leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder with a quiet sigh, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“Thanks, Yang.”

Replaying the sight of your smile in his mind makes his stomach flip flop, and he resists the overwhelming urge to tell you you’re pretty, pushing it back into the farthest crevice of his mind. Your head on his shoulder makes him feel like he’s carrying the entire world, and he doesn’t know what to do. He paints on a tight smile of his own, silently hoping you can’t hear the way his heart nearly pounds out of his chest.

Yangyang knows that having feelings for his best friend, specifically one of his good friends’ girlfriends, is something he absolutely should not be doing, but he can’t help it. His stupid heart refuses to listen to his brain. For now, all he can do is desperately hope that this dumb crush of his goes away soon because while 99% of his friends are oblivious (including you), Ten and Donghyuck are not. They’ll be able to spot his feelings from a mile away, like how Kun always knows when there’s a good sale going on at the Asian supermarket downtown (This week, it was the 50% off bean sprouts and chili paste).

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Yangyang carefully rests his head on top of yours. Clutching the empty bowl with one hand, he shoves his other one under his thigh to stop himself from reaching over and tangling his fingers with yours. He stares at the screen, watching until the bright colors blur together.

“Anytime.”

He likes you in February.

AUGUST 2019.

The earth spins around the sun for another time, and August makes its presence known once again. It’s Thursday night, and you’re sitting on the countertop in Nu Chi Theta’s kitchen, swinging your legs back and forth as Yangyang struggles to make some scrambled eggs because the half filled carton of eggs the two of you managed to find is the only thing that isn’t expired (besides Jeno’s protein shakes, but neither of you are gonna touch that cardboard tasting monstrosity).

“Maybe I should make it.” You peer over at the frying pan, wincing when you see the full damage of your future meal. “Did you use oil?”

“Of course I did!” he exclaims indignantly before pitifully pushing around the nearly charred mess of yolk and whites around with his spatula. “I’m not Mark.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, waving your hand around to dissipate the acrid burning smell, and Yangyang throws you a dirty look. He grabs a fork and stabs a small chunk of the eggs. Picking it up, he brings it closer to his mouth before hesitating. His eyes dart to you, and you raise your eyebrows at him, a silent challenge in your gaze. The sad piece of egg hovers in the air for a few more seconds before he defeatedly drops it back into the pan.

“Okay, what if we just Uber Eats some McDonald’s?” Turning off the stove, he then tosses the remnants of his cooking into the trash and drops the pan into the sink.

“Stellar plan. Best idea you’ve had all night.” You hop off the counter to stand next to him, propping your chin on his shoulder to see him pull up the app. He immediately puts in your usual order along with his before holding it up for you to see it better.

“Looks good?”

“Looks perfect.”

He clicks the confirmation button, and the delivery is set to come in 30 minutes. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are with your chest pressed against his back and hastily move away, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

Glancing over at your best friend, you don't miss the way Yangyang smiles down at something on his phone before his fingers fly across the screen. When he looks up, you immediately turn away, focusing your eyes on anything but him.

“Hey, you’re going to the Alpha Sig formal, right?” Yangyang calls out, and you throw on a teasing grin.

“You mean Alpha Sigma Psi, also known as the sorority I’m in?”

“Ah, right, yeah.” He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But you’re going, right?”

You nod, the sudden realization creeping up on you. “Oh yeah, I am, thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot to ask, but do you want t—”

“Ningning just asked me to go with her,” Yangyang blurts out, and you freeze, failing to hide your shock for a split second before you regain your composure.

“Oh wow, that’s great, Yang! I’ll see you there then.” You try to give him a convincing smile. He wrings his hands, biting his bottom lip. Something is on his mind. You can tell. He’s not someone to hold back with his words, but this time, he is.

“I… I don’t know if I’m gonna go,” he says at last. Your heart picks up a little at that. Does that mean he doesn’t want to go to the dance at all? Or does he not want to go with Ningning? If you asked him now, would it make a difference?

“I’ve never slow danced,” he confesses, leaning against the opposite counter, and your heart drops. So that was it. Of course, he wouldn’t reject Ningning. She’s an absolute goddess, heck, you wouldn’t say no if she asked you either. You stamp out that last flicker of hope.

“What if I suck at it?” he continues, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. “Oh god, I bet Yukhei and Kunhang are never gonna let me live it down. I can do choreographed dances, but I’m gonna mess up over a stupid slow dance. But where am I supposed to put my hands?! Like on her shoulders? Her waist? Do I hold her hand?”

Your eyes follow the way his hair ruffles slightly, and you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. You swallow hard before saying quietly, “I can teach you?”

His hand pauses mid-movement, and your eyes fly down to meet his. His eyes widen, and he contemplates your offer for a split second before nodding excitedly. “Yeah, that’d be great! Can you teach me right now? While we wait for our food to come!”

“S-sure,” you stammer, flustered at the sudden acceptance and his eagerness. “Um, here? In the kitchen?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs before straightening up. “The lights should be dimmed, right? We can kind of mimic that here to set the mood or whatever.”

He goes over and fiddles with the light switch, flicking it on and off, and you laugh, walking over and placing your hand over his. “What are you doing? Some kind of Kevin Nguyen mating call to look for a rave bae?”

“First off, I’m offended that you think I’d be one of them,” Yangyang narrows his eyes at you. “Secondly, I’m trying to make this feel more formal dance-y. Oh, wait!”

He turns off the lights for the last time and reaches over to pull open the refrigerator doors, the artificial fluorescent light pouring out and mixing with the faint beams coming in through the window from the street lamps outside. He grins at you, satisfied. “Romantic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the amused smile on your face gives away your true feelings. “Wow, Romeo, you swept me off my feet. The food is gonna go bad, and Kun is gonna kill you for the high electricity bill.”

“What food? Jeno’s protein shakes probably never expire.” He snorts before standing closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the counter. You can see the pretty gold flecks in his irises, and your breath gets caught in your throat. “And I guess this means you gotta teach me fast before we waste more electricity, right?”

You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away, and he laughs, stepping back. You let out a shaky breath, remembering that your lungs need oxygen in order to, you know, continue living.

“Okay,” you clear your throat before pulling out your phone and putting on a slow song. “Ready?”

“You chose Ed Sheeran? Thinking Out Loud? Really?”

You raise your hands up defensively. “Hey, he’s the king of sappy slow songs that all girls want to be played at their weddings for their first dance.”

When your legs don't work like they used to before,

And I can't sweep you off of your feet,

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

“Is this the song you want played at your wedding?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and your face grows warm. You ignore the question, and this time, you’re the one taking a bold step forward, a few centimeters now separating you and your best friend. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps lightly before meeting your eyes.

And darling, I will be loving you 'til we're seventy,

And baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three,

And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways.

“So, your hands go here.” You take his hands and place them on either side of your waist. His arms freeze up. “Relax, Yang. Precious cargo here.”

He lets out a chuckle, loosening his grip as he starts to relax. You reach up and slide your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers. You gaze back at him, saying softly, “Now pull me closer.”

He does so.

Maybe just the touch of a hand,

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day,

And I just wanna tell you I am.

“And now follow my lead. We’re going to take one step. And then another. We’re just slowly turning in a circle.”

After a few spins and steps, you stop leading and let yourself be led. Yangyang continues to hold onto you carefully, and you can hear him muttering a 1, 2, 3, 4 count under his breath until he finally gets the hang of it. He grows a little braver, pulling you even closer.

So honey now,

Take me into your loving arms,

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

“Are you going with Dejun?” he asks quietly, and you stiffen at the mention at him before shaking your head.

“No, we broke up in July.”

Yangyang falters in his step before recovering. “Oh. You never told me.”

“Yeah.” You struggle to keep your voice level. “I just… he’s your friend, and I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“You’re my best friend though,” he says firmly, looking you directly in the eyes. His grip on your waist tightens. “It’s his loss. That dumbass just lost the best person who’ll ever come into his life.”

You give him a tired half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. He hugs you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and securing you against his chest. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and hope that he doesn’t feel how quickly your heart beats in your chest.

Place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

Maybe we found love right where we are.

“Thanks, Yang,” you whisper, your breath tickling his skin. He envelops you tightly, and the two of you continue to spin in slow circles, quietly dancing in the refrigerator light as the remaining verses of the song warble in the background.

You think you finally understand what Dejun meant when he said he’s breaking up with you because your heart was already occupied by someone else.

You fall in love with him in August.

NOVEMBER 2019.

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: hey you up?

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: 7/11 in ten mins?

Tiredly rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of your dorm building, one of Jeno’s sweaters draped over your figure. November nights are cold, but this one seems chillier than usual. Yangyang stands near the front steps, and he stiffens up when he notices whose hoodie you’re wearing. He makes no mention of it though when you join him.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He glances over to you as the two of you walk side by side to the small convenience store just on the edge of campus. You shake your head, shoving your hands into the front pocket of your sweater.

“I was up cramming for midterms. I could use a break anyway,” you shrug. A wisp of your hair falls in your face, and Yangyang starts to reach out to fix it, but forces himself to keep his hand by his side. You reach out to carelessly brush it away, tucking it behind your ear.

“What about you?” You look over at him, noting the bags under his eyes. “Rough night?”

He smiles tiredly at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicks a stray pebble along the sidewalk. “More like rough week. Two more midterms left, and they’re for electromagnetic theory and linear systems.”

“Oh god, good luck. I took linear systems today, and it was absolutely brutal.” You wince, brightening up when you see the familiar neon orange, red, and green lights up ahead.

“Maybe I should just withdraw and take it again next quarter,” your best friend grumbles, kicking the stone as far as he possibly can.

“You really want another quarter with Hwang?”

“You’re right,” he sighs, “I just need to get a C+ to maintain my GPA. C if I’m pushing it.”

The two of you hurry over to the 7-Eleven, quickening your pace, until you reach the store doors, and you pull them open. Entering quickly, you push the door open slightly wider, and Yangyang slips in behind you. The cashier doesn’t even look up, texting away on his phone. You make a beeline towards the chips aisle, grabbing a bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos and a pack of sour gummy worms.

“What are you getting, Yang?” You call out over your shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the Red Bull stand at the end of the aisle. When you hear no response, you halt in your steps, turning around. Yangyang stands in the middle of the aisle, looking dazed under the fluorescent lights.

Putting your items back on the shelf, you approach him, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Yangyang, what’s wrong?”

He jerks back before silently holding up his phone for you to see. There’s a slew of text messages from Ningning a few hours ago, and a quick scan tells you all you need to know. Your heart weighs heavily in your chest when you look back at him, a forlorn expression on his face.

“She dumped me,” he says quietly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “She said our relationship was like a friendship. She didn’t feel anything. She said we could still be friends if I wanted to be though.”

He jabs a large bag of Lays potato chips angrily as his voice raises slightly higher. “But I don’t get it. Do friends take each other on dates? Do friends spend the night? Do friends hug each other and hold hands walking to class? Do friends spend three hundred dollars to do a surprise weekend trip for their birthday?”

He whirls around to face you, and he’s so close that you can see those pretty golden sparkles in his eyes again. Suddenly, his hands are cupping your face, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they flutter shut, and you press your lips against his. The 90s pop station music playing overhead seems to fade away, and all you can focus on is that your best friend tastes like spearmint gum and grape soju. He pulls away abruptly, the realization of what he’s done finally hitting him as his chest heaves up and down.

“Do friends kiss like this?”

His voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence. You feel like you’re spinning out of control, a split second from careening and crashing.

“No, we—they don’t,” you mumble, and Yangyang sees the starstruck look in your eyes, and he wants to apologize: to say sorry for kissing you. But he doesn’t. Because for some reason, he doesn’t feel sorry. He closes his eyes, curling his hands into fists before exhaling slowly. He sees you looking back at him this time, and he wonders if you feel as equally lost as he does.

Because you’re right. Friends don’t kiss each other like that. Friends don’t feel like this about each other.

He kisses you in November.

AUGUST 2020.

The sun still shines bright late into the day, and August greets you like an old friend. You’re absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your notebook designated for Quantum Mechanics. Yangyang sits next to you in the lecture hall, making a bunch of origami cranes before tossing them at Renjun’s head right in front of him. When the bird reaches its target for the sixth time in a row, the annoyed boy whirls around in his seat, glaring at your best friend.

“Stop that,” he hisses, and Yangyang innocently raises his hands in the air. Renjun angrily frowns at him before turning back around in his seat. After a few minutes, Yangyang flicks another crane towards his friend. If this was a cartoon, you would see steam blowing out of your friend’s ears. You silently watch as he wordlessly picks up his phone, seething as he presses on a particular number.

Suddenly, Travis Scott’s SICKO MODE starts blasting, amplified by the large auditorium-like room. The professor goes silent, and everyone turns to see Yangyang scrambling to pick up his phone. He fumbles around for a few seconds with it before finally shutting it off and putting it on vibrate mode. Cheeks burning red, he meekly puts his phone back in his bag and squeaks out a “sorry” before sinking down in his chair (You can see the culprit grinning like the cat ate the canary right in front of him. Karma’s a bitch who also goes by the name of Renjun).

You pat his arm consolingly as he sulks next to you for a few minutes, mouth jutting out into a pout. You decide to take pity on him and lean closer to him, whispering quietly, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you boba after class?”

Immediately, he brightens up. “One oolong milk tea, half sugar with white pearls and coconut jelly?”

“Yes, I’ll pay for your overpriced drink,” you huff, thinking about how his one seven dollar drink could buy you a whole rotisserie chicken that’ll last you a week. At least the fluffy dog at Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is cute and fun to play with. “I’ll even get the honey waffle fries.”

“Heck yeah!” he whisper-yells, fist pumping quietly before he suddenly deflates. “Wait, I can’t. I promised Lia I’d get lunch with her.”

Ah, right, there’s Lia now. Yangyang’s new girlfriend: the only other student who went to Düsseldorf, Germany to study abroad over the summer, and inevitably, the two of them became close. All you really know about her is that she’s pretty, she’s in Iota Theta Zeta, and she followed you on Instagram a few weeks ago (of course, you followed her back because of the unspoken best friend and girlfriend policy).

Her page looks carefully curated, and there’s a common pink tinted theme going on throughout her feed. She has over a thousand followers, and it seems like Yangyang fits perfectly in her magazine curated life, judging by how he occupies nearly every picture taken in the summer with her or how he’s tagged as the photographer. You can’t deny that they look good together, pointedly shoving the green eyed monster back under the bed.

You take a peek at your messy Instagram page where you only post pictures when you’re half drunk, so there’s no semblance of uniformity anywhere. You shrug at him, pocketing your phone.

“No biggie. I’ll see if Karina is up for some boba. She’s been holed up in the dance studio already, and it’s only week two of classes, can you believe it?”

“I remember Ten was the same way,” Yangyang hums, eyes fixated on his phone and fingers tapping away. He laughs quietly, lips curling into a pretty smile, and you glance over curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hmm?” Yangyang finally tears his eyes away from his screen for a split second to look at you before another buzz takes his attention away. He’s distracted, lovestruck, and you wistfully smile before turning back to your notes.

“Sorry, what’d you say earlier?” he loudly whispers a few minutes later, and you barely glance up from the large bulbasaur doodle you’re in the progress of completing right next to the chart marking the wave functions for a bouncing ball that you had copied down from the blackboard.

“Oh, I just asked what was so funny,” you murmur, coloring in the flowers you drew around the Pokémon with your blue ballpoint pen.

He looks confused for a moment before lighting up. “Oh! It was just a German joke. It’s not really funny if I translate it though.”

“Got it, no worries.” You notice the professor starting a new example problem, and you abandon your drawing, focusing on the formulas rapidly filling up the chalkboards in front of you. A quiet chuckle echoes in your ears, and you pause in your note taking to look over and see your best friend still typing on his phone. You make a mental reminder to create a copy of your notes for him later on when you pass the library on the way to the dining hall.

“Hey, Y/N.” Yangyang nudges you gently. “Rain check on the boba?”

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course. Anytime.”

He gives you a quick grin in return before his attention returns to the device in his hand—or rather, the pretty girl behind those texts. Your best friend is sitting right next to you, but you’ve never felt so far away. You know distance makes the heart grow fonder, but you don’t think it’s possible to be even fonder of him than you are now. Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him. No wonder it’s beginning to hurt so much.

You lose him in August.

DECEMBER 2020.

December is the coldest month of the year, yet it is also simultaneously the warmest with all the holiday festivities it brings. If Yangyang were to choose a month to describe you, it’d be this one. You are a walking paradox, a conundrum he might never solve, an oxymoron come to life. He doesn’t understand how you can be his best friend, yet feel like a stranger; a friend who he wants as a lover; someone who has created such an impact in his life, but disappears seamlessly here and there.

He wonders when you’ve gotten so distant. He wonders why he never noticed the way you seemed to slip away through the cracks until it’s now nearing the end of the year, and the last time he’s seen you in person was before the November autumn break.

But you’re here.

You’re standing right next to the punch bowl filled with spiked eggnog, wearing a garish knitted button down jumper with brightly colored Christmas lights decorating it. It’s perfectly in theme with the Ugly Christmas Sweater party Nu Chi is holding, and Yangyang is beyond ecstatic to know that you’re attending. He had texted you an invite two weeks ago, and you merely reacted with a thumbs up.

Yangyang swears he was going to follow up with you on that, but he got so caught up with midterms, then meeting Lia’s family for Thanksgiving, then studying for finals, and then finally, preparing for this party. Buying enough beer for twenty-three keg stands is a lot more difficult than it seems (Donghyuck’s car broke down halfway during one trip, and they all had to carry back the packs of beers to the house in 40 degree weather in their Sperry boat shoes and Patagonia long sleeves that definitely weren’t cut out for this kind of weather).

His girlfriend is somewhere in the room, wearing the other half of the reindeer sweater she forced him to put on, but all he can focus on is you. He hurriedly makes his way over, skidding to a stop in front of you, and you’re startled before a smile spreads across your face.

“Hey, you, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You grin at him, reaching out to poke the reindeer tail sticking out from the front of his itchy sweater (Lia got to wear the head half of the reindeer, while he was stuck with the behind).

“Yeah, how have you been?” He reaches around you to pick up a cup and pour himself some eggnog. He offers you one, but you decline with a small shake of your head.

“I’ve been doing good, a bit tired with finals coming up, but what’s new?” You joke, grabbing one of the sugar cookies from the table. You’re secretly surprised that they actually have real food (No, Hyuck, Jell-O shots do not count as real food). You suspect Jaemin has something to do with it. He always contributes to the annual Greek row bake sale.

“Are you here with someone? Did Karina come?” he asks, curiosity coating every word. He looks around for your roommate, but she’s nowhere to be found.

You shake your head. “No, I actually came with—”

“Me!”

Yukhei bounds over, slipping an arm over your shoulder. He hands you a new cup of apple cider, which you accept gratefully. He grins happily at Yangyang, who freezes up at the sight of his tall friend. “I asked her to be my date for the party, and she agreed. She also made our sweaters! Aren’t they so cool? There’s even lights that spell my name and play Christmas songs. She did a bunch of cool programming tricks to make them work.”

Yangyang realizes with a start that the two of you are indeed wearing matching sweaters, and that leaves a rather sour taste in his mouth (and it definitely wasn’t because of expired eggnog). The corners of his lips tilt downward as he presses his lips together tightly.

“So… you two are together?” He gestures between you and Yukhei with a forced laugh. Jealousy never did look good on anybody, and unfortunately, he’s not an exception.

“We’re just seeing each other and seeing how it goes for now,” you answer quietly, noting the way your best friend reacts. You have always been good at reading him, and you tread carefully now, not wanting to make a scene. Drunk Yangyang never holds anything back, and he’s had quite a few pre-game shots already (It definitely doesn’t help that he’s a lightweight, too).

“I see. How did you guys meet? Or I guess, start talking?” He attempts to look intimidating, staring down at Yukhei, but it’s a difficult feat to accomplish, especially when he’s trying to stare down a six foot guy who’s more like an overgrown puppy and his friend.

“Oh, she came by for one of your boba runs, but you were still out with Lia. So I asked if I could go with her.” Yukhei flashes his pearly whites at you, and you chuckle, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I said yes, and we hit it off, I guess.”

“You guess? And you took him on our boba runs?”

“You were out with Lia,” you say defensively, and he blanches when he hears his girlfriend’s name come out of your mouth.

“You could’ve waited,” he mutters, but you still hear it, and you give him a scathing look, finally too tired of this push and pull game that’s been going on behind the scenes for nearly three years now.

“I did. I waited over an hour here for you, but you didn’t show up or even text me that you were gonna be late. Yukhei was nice enough to offer to go with me.”

He stays silent, and you gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say next. Yukhei looks at you in concern, but you reach up and squeeze his hand reassuringly, which your best friend doesn’t fail to notice, his lips pressing into an even thinner line.

“I don’t understand what the deal is,” you finally burst out, startling both boys. “What’s the big deal about me and Yukhei going out?”

Something inside of him finally snaps. “The big deal is that you’re basically sleeping through my list of friends and then breaking up with them! First Dejun, then Jeno, now Yukhei? Who’s next? Should I give Renjun a heads up? Pencil you into his planner? Or Sicheng? Sungchan? You have a class with him, so you’re bound to flirt with him, too, right? When are you gonna stop fucking around with my frien—”

He gasps, stopping mid-outburst as he stares at you in disbelief. Apple cider slides down from his hair, dripping onto his face and soaking into his sweater, the sticky juice clinging to his skin uncomfortably. You’re absolutely seething, the empty cup crackling in your clenched fist. Shocked, Yukhei carefully tugs the plastic away from you and places it on the table before replacing it with his own hand, his thumb caressing circles on the back of your hand soothingly. Yangyang doesn’t dare to meet his furious gaze, lifting his chin to look at you instead. The entire room has hushed down by now, all eyes staring directly at the three of you in a mixture of surprise and slight terror.

“Screw you, Yangyang,” you say lowly, voice shaking with anger. Tears form on the edge of your waterline, but you blink them away before hastily brushing a stray droplet from your cheek. “They asked me out. I said yes. We went out. It didn’t work out. We move on. Just like how you’ve gone out with my friends. And they didn’t work out, so you moved on. So what’s so wrong about that? What’s so wrong about trying again to find love?”

He can’t answer you, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails indent miniature crescents in his palms—until the pain overtakes the feelings that are threatening to spill from his heart. Yangyang may not be yours, but he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t call you his either.

Love. That’s what you want, that’s what you crave, but not if it’s from him. So what is he supposed to do with love that’s unwanted? It’s bursting at the seams, and he has nowhere to hide it anymore.

He loves you in December.

AUGUST 2021.

August sneaks up on you this time around, and you find yourself in Kunhang’s apartment. All of your close friends are here, starting the last year of youth with one final first day party. You think back to that day three years ago: when your eyes met a pair of equally bright ones for the first time.

Curled up next to Yukhei on the couch, you look across the room and meet those very same eyes, although they seem hazier this time around. Lia is wrapped around his arm, and you think it’s quite ironic how both your and his relationships remain the same after all this time. Perhaps you both were bad luck for each other, leading to the other’s demise with short lived relationships. He looks away from you.

The rules of truth or dare are simple. You cannot ask the same person again until three other people have been asked first, and no one can be asked more than three times in each round. And, for reasons you can’t understand, everyone seems to take the code of truth seriously.

“I’ll start,” Kunhang announces, leaning back in one of the several beanbags he has in his place. “Goeun, truth or dare?”

Goeun sighs, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Dare.”

“You and Mark, seven minutes in heaven.” Hendery points towards the coat closet, and the immediate reaction of hoots and wolf whistles has the girl rolling her eyes. With an exasperated huff, she stands up and pulls a red faced Mark along with her.

“Wait, you gotta pick the next person!” Donghyuck calls out, and she stops in her tracks, throwing open the closet door and shrugging. “You can choose for me.”

With that, she and Mark disappear behind the door, and Donghyuck turns toward the rest of the group, eyes glimmering mischievously. You pay no attention to him, absentmindedly playing with Yukhei’s fingers. You tug one of his rings off his finger, and he smiles, plucking it from your grasp carefully before holding your hand. He carefully slides it onto your right ring finger, but it falls off. Grinning, he pretends to try it on every single one of your fingers until finally settling on your thumb. The ring fits snugly there, and you admire it, wriggling your thumb around.

“Well, look at that. It fits you. I think that means we’re meant to be,” Yukhei says, smiling broadly, and you laugh, interlocking your fingers with his again before glancing down at the silver engraved band resting on your finger. The weight of the metal feels heavy resting against your knuckle.

“Yangyang, truth or dare.”

Donghyuck’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you instinctively perk up in your seat at the sound of his name before freezing up in your spot. Yukhei squeezes your hand softly, and you tighten your grip around his fingers.

“Truth.”

“You’re no fun,” Donghyuck sighs, slouching back against the armrest. Yukhei leans over and whispers something in his ear before settling back next to you, shifting slightly to wrap his arm around you. Donghyuck lifts an eyebrow at your boyfriend before shrugging. “Okay, here’s an easy one. Are you in love…”

“Yes.” is his immediate response, and you notice how Lia absolutely preens next to him.

“… with Y/N?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you immediately turn your head to look at Yukhei, your eyes growing wide in horror. He looks apologetic, shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but just the way he looks at you, it’s so obvious, and I had to know.”

You whip around to face the boy in question. With bated breath, you look at him, but Yangyang stares at the center of the floor, struggling internally. Everyone is quiet, and it reminds you of the calm before a storm. At last, he looks up, gazing right at you, and you can almost swear that you see those pretty little gold flecks in his irises from here.

“Yes,” Yangyang confesses quietly.

There’s almost a collective gasp rippling through the room, and Yukhei lets out an inaudible swear under his breath. Your grip on his hand grows slack as you fumble to get a grasp on the entire situation.

He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

The words echo in your mind like a mantra until it grows so loud that you can’t hear any of your own thoughts anymore. Lia is in absolute hysterics, demanding an explanation from him, but he merely shrugs her off. Standing up, he quickly moves to leave the room, glancing at you one more time before disappearing out the front door.

It’s like your body is on auto-pilot after this. You drop Yukhei’s hand, immediately standing up and rushing after your best friend, paying no mind to the hushed whispers that only seem to increase in volume once you leave. You step out onto the porch, and there he is, sitting on the steps.

You quietly stand behind him, contemplating what to say and carefully choosing your next words. But there’s only one question on your mind.

“Why did you say that?”

He stays silent for a moment, staring out at the moon shining brightly ahead. “Because I meant it.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. “You shouldn’t.”

He finally turns to look at you, an indescribable look in his eyes. It reminds you of heartbreak. “But I do. And I tried not to for the past three fucking years, but I can’t anymore.”

“Since freshman year?” You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and this time, you let them go. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yangyang grips onto the edge of the stairs tightly, frustration ringing with every word that falls from his mouth. “Because I was scared. And I thought you never felt the same way. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Yang…” You whisper, hand reaching out as you let it hover over his shoulder for a few seconds. Then, you pull back, curling your fingers into fists, pressing crescent indentations into the palms of your hands.

He stands up, whirling around to look at you, desperate. “Tell me I’m not too late. Please, Y/N.”

Something inside of you breaks. You open your mouth and start to say something when the door opens behind you. Turning around, you see Yukhei. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you standing there.

You know this is it. This is the moment. This is where you have to decide.

“I, I was just looking for you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Yukhei awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna go back in and—”

“No, wait, it’s okay,” you gently interrupt him. You reach out and slip your hand into his, and he relaxes, giving you a relieved smile. You smile softly back at your boyfriend before turning to face him, eyes apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

He and you are asymptotes: two lines curving towards each other, but never touching; two hands reaching towards each other, but never interlocking; two people tangling their red strings of fate, but never tying.

You give him one last glance before going back inside with Yukhei.

You break his heart in August.

SEPTEMBER 2021.

September is supposed to be a new beginning: the transition from summer to autumn. Yangyang doesn’t think he can let go of you as easily as the trees shed their green for gold and red. Wherever he goes, wherever he looks, little reminders of you bloom in every crevice. You’re absolutely everywhere and nowhere, and it drives him crazy.

He thinks he’s gone completely insane when he hears your laugh while he’s walking to the laundromat one day. He shoves his airpods in and continues on his way until he sees you. Walking across the street, there you are. You’re on the phone with someone, and he contemplates going over to say hello. But suddenly, you’re hanging up the phone and waving eagerly at someone. When he turns his head to look, his heart drops and gets buried six feet under. He hurriedly ducks into a nearby bookstore and watches as you run up to Yukhei, slipping your hand into his like it’s second nature to you now. The two of you walk off together, and Yangyang is left standing at the window of the store until the shop owner politely asks if there’s anything he needs.

He doubts a time machine is something they have in stock, so he silently shakes his head and steps out onto the street once again. It is now silent and empty.

He loses you in September.

AUGUST 2022.

A lot can change in eleven months.

You’re twenty two years old, but you feel like you’re eighteen again. You know you’re going to see him for the first time since September at Kun’s housewarming. You had repeatedly assured Yukhei that you’d be fine. After all, life goes on; the world doesn’t stop just because you had a falling out with your best friend, even if it may have been a little more than that. Nevertheless, a year has nearly passed. Time is known to be the best healer, and perhaps your heart has shed its old skin and habits.

Your hand is safely enveloped in Yukhei’s, and the two of you walk towards your older friend’s new apartment. He playfully swings your interlocked hands back and forth, and you giggle, tightening your grip around his fingers. You stop in front of the door, the muffled sounds of a party slipping through the cracks. You suck in a breath, shoulders tensed. He’s in there.

“Are you okay?”

Yukhei squeezes your hand gently, voice laced with concern. You remember to breathe, exhaling slowly and relaxing before nodding. You smile up at him. “I’m okay.”

“If you want, we can go back home now, have another NCIS marathon, and drink this by ourselves.” Yukhei waves around the nice bottle of wine the two of you had brought for Kun. “We can even stop by the convenience store and get some ramen.”

You laugh quietly, the corners of your lips upturning with mirth. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Yukhei, I promise. Plus, I have you, right?”

He brightens up at that, practically beaming at you, and your heart skips a beat. “Right!”

You reach out and knock on the door. Kun greets the two of you, and you enter his apartment. Yukhei still doesn’t let go of your hand, and you follow behind him as you weave your way through the living room, greeting some of your friends. You hear Kunhang calling out to your boyfriend from the kitchen and feel him hesitate next to you. You squeeze his hand gently before letting go and nudging him in the direction of his friend. Yukhei gives you one last look, but you wave him off, smiling goodnaturedly and silently assuring that you’re okay. He swoops down and leaves behind a soft kiss for you before going.

You walk over to the alcohol table, pouring yourself something to drink. Leaning against the wall, you take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting over the rim of your cup and slowly scanning the room. It feels like forever, like everything is moving in slow motion, like the world is submerged underwater, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

You find him easily. After all, it’s hard to forget someone whose features you’ve memorized over the past four years. Your eyes map the delicate outline of his face once more, and for a moment, you wonder if red is still his favorite color, or who he shares a carton of Ben and Jerry’s with nowadays. You wonder if he thinks of you sometimes, too.

But then, you wonder where Yukhei is. You search around until you see your boyfriend still standing in the kitchen, laughing at something your mutual friend said. Your eyes soften when you see him grab your favorite snack. You turn back around, your heart swelling in your chest tenfold, and your lips curl upwards, an endeared expression on your face.

That’s when you notice that he’s looking at you.

You brace yourself, waiting for the tidal wave of emotions to wash over you and the quickening of your heart rate to greet you like an old friend. Because that’s what always happens when you’re around him. After all, he is the biggest what-if in your life. He is someone you almost loved forever, someone you almost stayed for.

And yet, nothing happens. You wait a little longer. The world still goes round, and you’re still breathing. There’s no shortness of breath, no erratic heart palpitations, no sweaty palms, absolutely nothing. Liu Yangyang is a stranger in a familiar body, and your heart remains still.

You give Yangyang a faint smile, nodding towards him, and it feels like a sudden jolt in his heart. Time stops, and all he can see is you. You look beautiful. You have always been beautiful. This is his chance. Whatever higher entity out there has taken pity on him and given him a second try to make it right. He finally takes a step towards you, and the tender, encouraging expression in your eyes gives him the strength to take another one. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Clutching his drink in hand, he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s only eight, seven, six, five steps away from you now. A smile grows on his face as relief curls around his heart like a bandage. You’re standing there, waiting for him, smiling at him.

And suddenly, you’re no longer looking at him.

You stopped looking at him.

Yukhei makes his presence known next to you, excitedly chattering about something and gesturing towards the kitchen as he hands you something to eat. It’s a snickerdoodle cookie. Your favorite. Your eyes are fixated on the tall boy, positively sparkling as you beam at him.

Yangyang feels like he can’t breathe. The bandage is ripped off, and all he can feel is excruciating pain like a thousand pinpricks into his heart before the numbness hits. He freezes, rooting himself in that spot on the scratched hardwood floor as his colleagues and friends continue to jostle around him. As his world crumbles around him, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. They stay on you, the barest traces of nostalgia lingering in the dimmed golden flecks of his irises that you had still admired all those months ago. It’s like he’s trapped in a silent film, stuck in a fish bowl and swimming in circles, and he watches in horror as you outstretch your hand and intertwine your fingers around Yukhei’s, leaning up to press your lips against his tenderly. Your boyfriend looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky yourself (He would believe it if you said you did).

You don’t look at him like that anymore.

Yangyang remembers when you used to. When you used to love him. When you were almost his. He feels something inside of him break for a second time.

The world continues to spin, and yet, he’s still not moving. He’s stuck in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper as everyone around him moves on—as you move on. He desperately tries to keep you in his view, and his feet finally pick up as he lurches forward. He’s not fast enough. You’re slipping away, walking away from him, hand in hand with Yukhei, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, and he can’t do anything about it. It’s too late. He’s too late. The sticky remnants of cheap beer run down his wrist, and it finally registers in his mind that he had crushed the flimsy plastic cup in his hand sometime in between now and then. In a crowded room full of people, he’s left standing there, alone and lonely.

Almost is the worst way to love someone, Yangyang bitterly realizes. It hurts to lose someone you almost love. No, it was never an ‘almost’. He most certainly loved—loves—you. And it should be impossible to lose someone who was never his to begin with, yet he has. All this time, he thought he had you, but it had always been the other way around.

He was your August, he was your everything, and he is yours.

But you will never be his.

You let go of him in August.

1K notes · View notes

kingexpl0sionmurder · 4 years

Text

Mutual Misunderstandings - Kirishima Eijirou - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / F!Reader Rating: 18+ (Contains smut) Words: 5,866 Warnings: Quirkless AU, Aged up characters (they adulty adults!), unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), very very light choking, reader has a bit of a size kink. AN: Another entry for the BNHAREM collab! This time we’re writing roommates, and I somehow managed to snag Kirishima! I’m super excited for all of the fics coming this time around, so make sure you click on the link below and read some of the other submissions!

This is my first time writing Kirishima and I’m super nervous about it. I’ve always really loved him because he’s just the best boy and he’s so brave and strong and gentle and I just want to cuddle him into oblivion. I also firmly believe he’s going to be a huge tank of a man when he gets older and I’m going with that vision of him here.

Collab Masterlist is HERE My Masterlist is HERE Buy me a KoFi if you’re feeling froggy HERE

------

You stood in your living room, your jaw hanging open, staring at him in shock. Kirishima had a similar look on his face, the two of you pointing at each other like that Spider-Man meme.

“You mean to tell me you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” You finally choked out, blinking owlishly at your best friend and roommate. “I thought you liked Mina!”

Kirishima sputtered, shaking his head. “No way! She’s my friend, we’ve known each other since middle school, you know that.” He moved to cross his arms across his broad chest. “And anyway, there’s no way you like me, you have a crush on Bakugou!”

There was no way this was happening right now. “No! I don’t like Bakugou like that! He’s a pain in my fucking ass, and I think about murdering him on a daily basis.” Facepalming, you groaned. “Are we really this stupid?”

How did you end up here?

It started back in your first year of college.

The parties and the seemingly endless studying had become a comfortable routine for you. So what if you were sleep-deprived and living on cup noodles? You were getting your higher education and ready to tackle the real world head-on in just a few short years.

A pipe dream, but still.

You had your best friend Shinsou by your side and a customer loyalty card at the campus coffee shop and everything was right with the world. You’d even managed to get paired up with Hitoshi’s (sort of) boyfriend for an English project, which was a better outcome than what you could have hoped for, not having to work with some rando on something that would be a large chunk of your grade.

Kaminari had suggested that you work on it at his place with the promise of Doritos, and you agreed. Who were you to turn down snacks? Poor college students needed those cheese dusted carbs to survive.

The Upsilon Alpha fraternity was one of the best and most popular on campus, and at first, you found it almost laughable that Kaminari was a member. At first glance, he seemed like a total space cadet stoner who didn’t belong in college, much less as a member of such an esteemed frat. However, after getting to know him, you knew that he was most definitely all of those things, but he was also insanely smart when it counted and kept above average grades in his classes (except for math, but with him being a bisexual disaster human, it came with the territory).

You had made some decent progress on your project after about an hour. The outline was done, and you were discussing how you would be presenting it since you had a choice between a written essay or a PowerPoint presentation.

Without warning, the kitchen door flew open, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind it.

“Well, the quiet was nice while it lasted, huh?” Kaminari blinked, completely unfazed by the commotion, leaning back in his chair and eating a chip.

Your gaze flitted over to the man who was glaring at the two of you from the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets. Blonde hair that looked so much like an explosion was sticking up in every direction on his head, and you felt his red eyes trained on you as he took in the room. “What are you doing, Dunceface?”

Kaminari didn’t answer right away, raising his eyebrow and grinning at the new arrival. “Hey, Kacchan.”

If the bulging vein in the man’s forehead was any indication, Kaminari had said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth, and you assumed it was to threaten your project partner, but he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Bakubro, be nice. Kami has company.”

The man that appeared beyond the angry pomeranian took your breath away. He was...big. Like, his shoulders were so wide you wondered how he was going to fit through the doorway. And he was tall, with spiked red hair making him look even taller, big red eyes and sharp teeth, and the most beautiful smile you’d ever laid eyes on.

Blonde and grumpy grumbled, moving aside to let giant and red into the room, who then turned that megawatt million-dollar smile on you, and you tried your best not to stare at his biceps or the way his shirt clung to his chest.

Was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Hi! I’m Kirishima, and this ray of sunshine is Bakugou, we’re some of Kaminari’s frat brothers!” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you smiled up at him, taking his giant hand in yours. The size of his fingers sent your brain reeling, and you knew you needed to get yourself under control before you started moaning out loud in front of him.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you! Kami and I are just working on an English project.” You explained, grinning back up at him, trying to keep the lust off of your face. You didn’t want to look like some kind of freak.

He took his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, you must be Shinsou’s friend! Kami told us you’d be coming over, I forgot about that.” He turned, watching as Bakugou slunk over to the fridge and opened the door. “Don’t let us bother you, we’re just grabbing some water before we head to the gym.”

Kaminari snorted. “Dude, if you get any beefier we’re going to need to remodel the doors so you can fit through them.”

Kirishima turned as red as his hair, glancing at you, before he grinned at his friend. “If I stop, no one will be able to bench press you and Sero at the same time at the next party.”

“Bro, that is my favorite party trick of yours.” He sat up straighter, looking forlorn at the thought of it not happening anymore. “Okay, fine, go to the gym.”

Bakugou grumbled from behind him something that sounded like “I could bench press four of you if I wanted to.”

“Of course you could, buddy.” Kirishima slung his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder. “Okay, we’re out of here. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Good luck with your project!”

Bakugou grunted and shoved a water bottle at Kirishima, shrugging out from under his arm and leaving the room. Kirishima smiled at you when you said goodbye, hurrying after his sour-faced friend and leaving you and Kaminari to your work.

“Your housemates are...interesting.” You managed, still trying to wrap your head around the red-haired man.

Kaminari snorted. “Kirishima is the walking definition of sunshine, and Bakugou is...well, he takes some getting used to. But he’s not a bad guy.”

You just hummed, chewing on your pen absently. “Can he actually bench press you?”

“Fuck yeah. He does it one-handed. You should come to our next party and see for yourself.”

Keeping your face as neutral as possible, you nodded. “Maybe I can convince Shinsou to come with me.” Wiggling your eyebrows at Kaminari when he blushed, you turned back to the notebook that lay open in front of you. “Come on, let’s figure this out so we can talk more about your intentions with my best friend.”

You did show up to the next UA frat party, Shinsou in tow. Your purple-haired bestie was grumbling the whole way, his hands shoved in his pockets. It didn’t stop him from making fun of how short your skirt was and teasing you about how you’d done nothing but talk about Kirishima since the day you’d met him.

“He’s like Clifford the Big Red Dog, Y/N. Clumsy and adorable.”

“He’s definitely big. I’d like to climb him like a tree.” You linked your arm with his, walking up to the giant house, the windows already rattling with the bass pumping through the speakers inside.

“You’re disgusting. I am appalled and also proud to call you my best friend.” Sarcastic as usual, he let you drag him along without a fuss.

“That sounds about right.”

The party was in full swing, half the campus milling around inside the house with red plastic cups in hand. You found Kaminari almost immediately, shoving Shinsou towards him and making your way to the kitchen to find yourself a drink.

“Y/N!” Kirishima was in front of you almost immediately, giant cat eyes and his shark tooth smile lighting up the room. “Kami mentioned you might show up!”

Blushing, you nodded, suddenly losing the ability to form words. He was wearing a tank top, his arm muscles on display, and you took a moment to thank the Lord for the blessing before you.

“You want a drink?”

You realized you were staring, so you cleared your throat and smiled at him. “Yes, please.”

His large hand wrapped around your elbow gently as he tugged you through the crowd in the kitchen and out towards the back porch. You tried not to think about how your skin was burning under his touch. You needed to get a grip.

He got to work on the keg, pumping the handle on the top and grabbing you a cup, tilting it a bit as he filled it with beer.

“Hey, shitty hair! Beer pong!” You turned to see Bakugou standing on the other side of the large wooden deck, his arm resting on the shoulder of a tall and lanky brown-haired boy. “Sero here wants to break up the dream team! Find a partner!”

Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, hang on!” He turned to you, handing you your drink. “So, you play beer pong?”

Bringing the cup to your lips, you tilted your head back and chugged your beer, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand when you’d finished. Kirishima was staring at you with wide eyes, looking surprised but pleased. “Yeah. I’m better when I’m drunk, though.”

He held out his hand for the empty cup, moving to fill it up again, his grin never faltering. “Let’s go kick their asses.”

That was the beginning of your friendship with Kirishima. What had started as a crush on the red-haired man had turned into a companionship that you couldn’t ever see yourself without. That was why you never said a word about how you really felt.

As cliché as it was, you didn’t know how you’d survived without the guy. He was nothing short of amazing. He was a great listener, and he gave good advice. He was always there when you needed him, bringing you soup when you were sick, going on late-night snack runs when you were up all night studying for exams, showing up with chocolate and tampons when it was your time of the month.

Shinsou had always done those things for you, but he was spending a lot of time with his boyfriend now. You weren’t upset about it though, you thought they were the cutest and you didn’t want to third wheel their time together, so you hung out with Kirishima and Bakugou a lot more often.

As Kaminari had told you on that first day, Bakugou truly wasn’t a bad guy. His attitude got on your nerves though, and you envisioned punching him in the face at least four times a day, but you didn’t dislike him. He and Kirishima were best friends, so he was a part of the package, and you learned to deal with him.

So it was a no-brainer when Kirishima and Bakugou approached you and asked if you wanted to get an apartment with them once you’d graduated. With the three of you living together, you were able to afford a nicer apartment than you’d ever dreamed of having that was in a central location and only a few train stops away from where your respective jobs were located.

Things were going well, and you’d done a decent job of keeping your true feelings for Kirishima to yourself. It helped that he’d never dated anyone, and you were free to lust after him quietly, under the impression that no one had caught on to how you really felt, perfectly content to continue as you had been since the day you’d met him.

The only wrench in your plans of quiet pining was Mina Ashido.

Mina was awesome, and you loved her to pieces. She was one of the only other females in your friend group and had been around since you’d gotten closer to the boys in the frat that first year of college. She was the perfect person to go to when you needed some self-care nights, always down to put on a face mask and paint your nails, and she was the best shopping partner.

However, you were thoroughly convinced that Kirishima liked her.

You’d noticed, as far back as your freshman year, how they always gravitated towards each other in social settings. Mina was always one of the last ones to leave when you went out back then, always the one Kirishima threw his arm around when you walked back to campus from the bar.

It was part of the reason you’d become close with Bakugou in the first place. Whenever Kiri was with Mina, you always sidled up to the explosive blonde, teasing him to distract yourself from the way your heart was squeezing in your chest.

Neither of them had ever mentioned having more than just a platonic, friendly relationship with each other, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got whenever you saw them together.

It’s called jealousy, you idiot.

You had nothing to be jealous about though. Kirishima was your friend, and that’s all he would ever be.

Things had been going well, at least that’s what you’d thought. And then this morning had happened.

It was Saturday, which was your normal grocery shopping day. You and Bakugou had taken on the burden of shopping for groceries for the apartment. You’d allowed Kirishima to go once and he came home with more junk food than should be allowed in one cart, and half of the things on the list you’d given him missing, and more protein powder than should be legally allowed.

Bakugou had worked out a system and your grocery shopping trips were like a well-oiled machine that took no longer than an hour out of your day, and you were grateful for your grumpy friend and his penchant for being overly organized.

You finished getting dressed, ready to get this over with so you could use the rest of the day to play video games and be generally lazy. Walking into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to see your roommates glaring at each other, which was normal for one of them, and uncharacteristic for the other.

“Everything okay?” Your eyes darted between the two men, taking in Kirishima’s stiff posture and clenched jaw.

“Fine. I’m going shopping alone today.” Bakugou grunted, turning away from his best friend.

Puzzled, you frowned. “What? Why?”

Bakugou stopped in the doorway, turning to face the both of you, looking thoroughly fed up. He lifted his hand and pointed. “The two of you are making me want to commit myself. I’ve been dealing with this shit for years, and it ends today. You’re in love with each other. Figure your shit out and fuck already. I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

You gaped after him as he turned again, giving you both the middle finger over his shoulder as he left, the door slamming shut behind him.

And that brings us up to speed.

“Are we really this stupid?” You asked, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back.

Kirishima sighed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Since when?”

Snorting, you flopped down on the couch, rubbing at your face tiredly. “Truthfully? Since the moment we met.” You guessed the cat was out of the bag, so you might as well tell him everything. “In the kitchen at the frat house.”

“When you came over to work on that project with Denki?” His eyebrows furrowed, an adorably confused look on his face. “Are you telling me I’ve been pushing you at Bakugou for nearly 5 years for no reason?”

“Yeah, you could stop doing that at any time and I would appreciate it. Unless you want me to strangle him to death.”

Kirishima flopped down on the other end of the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’ve liked you just as long, you know? I saw you sitting in our kitchen and I thought I was going to throw up.”

“If that was supposed to make me feel good about myself then you’ve failed miserably.”

“No! I just mean, the butterflies-” He groaned. “Shut up and let me get this out okay?”

Smirking at him, you turned your body, leaning against the back of the couch. “Okay, sorry, keep going.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued, red eyes trained on your face. “Do you remember the frat party?”

“Which one?”

“That first one, when you chugged that beer in front of me and then helped me kick Bakugou’s ass at beer pong?” He waited for you to nod before he spoke again. “I’d never felt so enamored with anyone in my entire life.” Kirishima let his gaze fall to his hands. “You were so awesome and funny and beautiful and you kept up with my friends and their dumbass antics like a pro and I just...I couldn’t believe you were real. I just kept telling myself that you would never be into someone like me, so I decided that if we could be friends for life then that would be enough.”

“Ei…” You trailed off, frowning. You’d always known he tended to get down on himself. You and Bakugou had done your best to convince him he was worth much more than he let himself believe, but sometimes he needed a reminder.

“I know, I know. I don’t feel that way anymore, but at the time I did.” His hair was down, tied back in a loose bun, bits of his fringe falling in his eyes. He pushed a piece of it behind his ear and kept going. “So I tried to keep my distance, kept on hanging around with Mina, tried not to think about how much I wanted to be with you. She kept telling me I needed to tell you, kept rubbing it in that I wasn’t being manly about it. But you were hanging out with Bakugou so much I just figured you liked him and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall forward. “I was hanging out with Bakugou because I couldn’t stand seeing you with Mina so much. I was jealous.” Realization hit, and your eyes snapped open. “Mina knew?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one I told.”

“All those times we hung out and she never said a word.” Chuckling, you shook your head. “I told Shinsou. It’s like the only secret he’s ever kept from Kaminari. I threatened to mutilate him beyond all recognition if he mentioned a word to anyone.” You grinned sheepishly at him.

Kirishima huffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Bakugou. Your threats are just as creative as his.”

“Speaking of, I guess he figured it out on his own then.”

Humming, he shrugged. “He was always the smartest one out of all of us.” He looked over at you again. “So, now it’s your turn.”

Raising an eyebrow, you blinked at him. “For what? A heartfelt confession?”

“It’s only fair. I told you how I felt. What did you think when you first met me?”

You felt your ears get hot. “Do you want the truth? Because it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Shifting himself on the couch, he leaned against the arm, tanned forearms resting on his knees. “Oh, this should be good.” He teased, grinning.

“Shut up.” You sighed, preparing yourself for his reaction. “When you walked into the kitchen that day, my first thoughts were...uh...pretty dirty. Like X rated.”

Eyes wide, he stared at you. “Really? How dirty are we talking here?”

You covered your face with your hands, mumbling your answer behind them.

“Sorry, what was that?” He was fucking with you again, you could hear the smirk in his voice, and you were tempted to smack him with a throw pillow.

Taking a deep breath, you moved your hands from your face, looking him right in the eye. “I said, I wanted you to step on me.”

Sputtering, he blinked a few times. “What?”

“I mean, you were this...tank, Eijirou. Like this giant man with gorgeous eyes and a killer smile, with the personality of fucking sunshine and you had these big hands and I wanted you to wrap them around my throat and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, seriously?” His cheeks were as red as his hair, his hands flailing as he stopped your tirade. “You wanted me to…?

Nodding solemnly, you looked him dead in the eyes. “Yes, and I’ve thought about that like every day since then.”

“I am learning things about you today that I never even imagined.” Blowing a breath out he slumped back, looking shook.

You hurried on, wanting him to know it was more than that. “I mean, after that I got to know you and I love everything about you, Ei. I just, you’re such a good person, better than I could ever be. You care about everyone and you’re always there for me, for all of us, whenever we need you. You’re strong and funny and brave. I always know that I can rely on you.” Sniffling, you couldn’t help the emotions bubbling to the surface.

“But you also want me to step on you.” He was grinning, his eyes a little wet, too.

Wiping at your eyes with your fingers, you chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”

Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing your arm and tugging. “Come here.”

Crawling across the couch, you laid down between his parted legs, your head resting on his chest. He wrapped his giant arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“Now what?” You asked, realizing you were afraid of the answer. What happened now?

He hummed, and you heard the sound vibrate through his chest. “I was going to suggest a nap, but now I keep thinking about what you said…”

You lifted up to ask what he meant, shifting your body and freezing when you felt something hard brush against your thigh. Eyes meeting his, you bit your lip at the look on his face, feeling a blush creep over your face and down your neck. “Yeah?”

“I figured we can do things out of order a little bit, right? I’m going to take you on a real date and court you properly, like a gentleman and all that, but right now all I can think about is, well…” He sat up, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you like it was nothing, until you were sitting properly on his lap, straddling his hips. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to your throat, putting the smallest amount of pressure on the sides of your neck with his calloused fingertips.

The moan that tore from your throat was low and quiet, but he heard it, muttering a curse under his breath as you became nearly boneless in his lap. “Eijriou.” You managed, licking your lips and gazing at him through half-closed eyes, your blood pounding in your ears.

It was ridiculous how turned on you were in that moment, and he’d barely done a thing. You felt his cock twitch beneath you, and you couldn’t help but grind down on him, the small amount of friction making you shiver.

Suddenly he was guiding you towards him, your noses bumping and breath mingling as he held you in place, his lips just out of your reach. “You don’t know how much I’ve always wanted you, Y/N.”

Letting your eyes slide closed, you ran your hands up his muscled arms and rested them on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. You were tired of waiting, of keeping yourself from what you wanted. “Show me.”

If you were to die right here on this couch it would have all been worth it. The feeling of his lips on yours, the way he ran his thumb lightly over your throat as he kissed you, had your eyes rolling back in their sockets. You couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, of the feeling of his hard body beneath your fingertips. He was careful with his sharp teeth, tugging at your bottom lip lightly, your tongues sliding together as he rolled his hips against yours.

You pulled back for air finally, taking in his kiss bruised lips and dilated pupils. Reaching down, you tore your shirt over your head, tossing it across the room, never breaking eye contact. You watched his gaze fall to your heaving chest as he worried at his bottom lip for a moment, obviously lost in thought.

Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, he’d shifted again so that his feet were on the floor. Kirishima lifted you off his lap and put you on your feet in front of him, hands moving to your waist, fingers slipping into the elastic of the leggings you were wearing. He pressed his face to your bare stomach, kissing your skin as he worked your pants down your thighs, slipping them past your knees. You played with his hair, moaning softly as he kissed along your hip.

When he sat back you stepped out of your leggings, feeling exposed. You forgot how to be awkward when he was looking at you like that, hungry and wanting. Stepping forward, you pouted. “Why am I the only one half-naked?”

Chuckling, he pulled his shirt off, and you sucked in a breath, trying to wrap your head around the fact that this man, with a chiseled and perfect body like a Greek god, wanted you.

You didn’t even have time to admire him, because he was moving again, pulling you closer by your thighs, sharp teeth hooking into the front of your panties and dragging them down. Tugging the tie out of his hair, you slid it on your wrist, letting your fingers card through his red locks. He let his hands do the rest of the work until the offending garment was tangled around your ankles.

Pushing him away gently, you watched him settle back on the couch, red eyes gazing at you as you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor, finally fully exposed to him. Kirishima sucked in a breath, blinking a few times in disbelief. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You kicked your panties to the side, moving to kneel in front of him, reaching up to grasp the top of his grey sweats, mouth-watering when you started to tug them down. Kirishima was huge everywhere else, so the size of his cock was of no surprise to you. He was massive, long, and girthy, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

Rubbing your thighs together for some relief, you left his sweats around his ankles, leaning forward and grasping his cock in your hand. It was almost comical how small your hands looked compared to it. Your eyes locked with his as you licked a long stripe up the shaft, tracing along the prominent vein on the underside, and lapping at the precum dripping from the head.

Kirishima’s head fell back to rest on the cushion behind him, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him into your mouth. Your jaw ached almost immediately as you did your best to swallow all of him down, willing your throat to relax. You’d spent so long thinking about how he would taste and sound as you sucked his soul out through his dick, you were going to make the most out of this moment.

His breathy pants filled the room, along with the obscene slurping sounds of your mouth around his cock. Gripping your hair and tugging lightly, you could tell he was holding back, his thighs shaking with the effort to keep from fucking up into your face. You pulled off, opening your mouth to let him know he could wreck you however he wanted, but he had other plans.

“Come up here, baby.”

The pet name sent shivers through you as you stood up, straddling his lap, his cock pressed up against his stomach. His thumb brushed over your lips, wiping away the spit and pre that spilled down your chin. Cradling your face in his large palm, he pulled you forward and kissed you deeply, his free hand sliding between your bodies. Thick fingers parted your folds, and you lifted up on your knees to give him better access. You moaned into his mouth as he brushed over your clit, gathering the dripping wetness of your cunt along his digits and sliding one finger inside your hole.

You clenched around him, breaking the kiss and keening loudly, your hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. His finger pumped in and out, curling slightly and pressing against your inner walls, stretching you. Gripping your hip with his other hand, he kissed his way down your jaw to your neck and chest, tongue flicking out over your nipple, hot breath ghosting over your skin with a chuckle when you grabbed his head and pulled him towards you.

One finger turned to two and then three as you rocked and mewled in pleasure, his thumb finding your clit again and pressing against the bundle of nerves, whispered praises reaching your ears as he sucked and bit at your breasts. You were on the edge, wanting to fall over and drown in him, needing to cum all over his fingers and then again on his cock, wanting nothing more than to feel this way forever.

“Ei I’m gonna…” You panted, unable to form the words.

Grunting, he moved his fingers faster, pressing his thumb in a little harder, his words of praise streaming steadily, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked. Eyes rolling back, your body tensed, a moan in the sound of his name leaving your lips as you shook, cumming harder than you ever had in your life.

You were still clenching when he pulled his fingers out of you, his hand slick with release as he tugged on his cock and lined it up with your entrance, your body mourning the loss for mere seconds before he was filling you again. The slick glide of your arousal had you taking nearly all of him, the two of you groaning in tandem at the feeling. Gripping his shoulders, you lifted slightly, slamming your hips back down and taking him to the hilt. The stretch was just on the edge of painful, but his thick digits had stretched you just enough that the pleasure superseded any discomfort.

Still trying to gather yourself after your orgasm, you took a moment to breathe, studying his face, your gaze tracing over the scar on his eyelid, and his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. An hour ago you never could have imagined you’d be here, panting shakily, drenched in sweat and skin to skin with your best friend and roommate.

Clenching around him, you held his shoulders, rocking forward and lifting yourself slightly. Kirishima gripped your hips, fucking up into you in a steady rhythm, his lips finding yours once again to swallow the panting moans leaving you. You bounced on his cock, relishing the feeling as he kissed down your neck, his fingertips digging into your flesh, sure to leave bruises for you to admire the next day.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it didn’t even matter. Just being this close to him, feeling him filling you so completely after wanting him for so long, it could have been minutes and you’d be happy. Knowing he felt for you as strongly as you felt for him was enough.

His fingers trailed along your front and dipped in between your bodies to rub your clit again, and you felt the pleasure race down your spine, coil tightening again and ready to break. “Oh fuck, Eijirou!”

Growling, he grunted your name as his hips snapped up to meet yours, chasing his release. “I love you, Y/N.”

His words tipped you over again, your breath catching as you came, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into you increasing as you gushed around him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, completely spent. You held onto him as he slammed into you a few more times, rhythm faltering and hips stuttering until he was filling you up with a loud groan.

Collapsing back onto the couch, he held you to his chest, the two of you gasping for air. It was quiet for a few minutes as he rubbed his palm along your back comfortingly. You felt relaxed and sated, a pleased smile making its way to your face when you thought about what he’d said.

“Hey, Ei?” You pulled back slightly to look at him, giggling when he peeked one eye open to gaze at you.

“You okay?”

“Mm. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, too.”

He looked sheepish, opening both eyes and biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I wanted it to be romantic.”

“That was plenty romantic, Eijirou.” Rolling your eyes fondly, you shifted in his lap. “I’m just happy to hear you say it.”

“Man, we did this all wrong. I should have at least taken you to dinner first. This is so unmanly of me, I just couldn’t help it.” He frowned. “I’m sorry-”

“You’re too good sometimes, Ei. I’m not complaining, am I?” You raised an eyebrow. “We should go get cleaned up before Bakugou comes home and finds out we fucked on the couch.”

“Please don’t talk about Bakugou while you’re sitting on my dick.” He made a face that caused you to bust into gasping laughter.

“Oh my god, I can’t.” You wheezed. “You’re ridiculous.” You moved to get up and he stopped you.

With a serious look on his face, he pushed your hair away from your face, his hand lingering near your ear. “I do love you though, Y/N. And I’m glad we finally got here. I didn’t think we ever would.”

Expression softening, you leaned into his palm, smiling at him. “Me too.”

Maybe if you had just told him how you felt all those years ago, you would have been able to have this sooner. But you promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell on the past, deciding to focus on the future, because you knew it would be filled with more moments with him just like this.

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #eijirou kirishima #eijiro kirishima #mha #mha x reader #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima eijiro smut #bnha smut #mha smut #eijirou kirishima smut #eijiro kirishima smut #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #bnharem collab

1K notes · View notes

cow-smells · 4 years

Text

You’re Mine [Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Reader]

Requests: 1. there’s a new girl on miyagi-do, she’s classmates with sam, hawk, miguel, tory, robby, demetri, etc... for some reason, she and hawk didn’t like each other (he can be on cobra kai or eagle fangs, that’s your choice), and one day they make a bet, which this girl wins. hawk has to be her slave for a whole week. BONUS IDEA: a stolen kiss during a fight. maybe admitting feelings for each other? i’d love that! ( @berriewrites ) 2. love the hawk smut but i’d also love some fluffy hawk about him secretly liking the reader who’s in miyagido but he tries to act all tough and hide it (anon) 3. AHHH CAN WE GET SOME HAWK FLUFF!? I love the idea where you swear that you don’t like him and you guys make eye contact from a distance when he’s standing with his friend group and you’re standing with yours and you get flustered and he can tell and he smirks and just ahh (anon)

A/N: this took so longggg this came out longer than expected (and honestly i could go on, but i wanted to get this out already) + real life has come hitting all at once and its been overwhelming lol. thanks for being patient and sticking around <3 i enjoyed writing some fluff (amidst a flurry of smut reuests loool :)

Words: 2981

Warnings: none

Read this on AO3

Summary: You don't like Hawk. He's a bad person, that much you know for sure. You're ready to make his life miserable when he loses a bet with you, but then you actually have to spend time with him...

You didn't like this.

Forgiveness seemed to be a virtue that evaded you. Eagle-fang and Miagi-Do were uniting and everyone seemed to be all for the union – except for you.

Some things were simply unforgivable. For you, Hawk breaking Demetri's arm was one of them.

You and Demetri became nearly inseparable friends when you both joined Miagi-Do. He had told you all about his former friend Eli and how he'd abandoned him in the favor of bullying him in any way he could come up with; that bullying taking a turn to the extreme when Hawk took to breaking bones.

Demetri had since forgiven him, but you hadn't.

Demetri had a softer heart than he let on, and he missed Eli terribly, so when the latter suggested they work together he gladly accepted.

But you were more objective about the situation, as you weren't a part of it, and forgiving such cruelty was beyond you.

The one good thing about the dojos coming together was the intense dedication that grew on everyone. Now that you had a common enemy, many participants would hang around in Miyagi-Do's dojo long after training sessions, training until you could hardly move your limbs.

The sun had ago long fallen when you and the remaining students took places around a mat, ready for the sparring session to begin.

With Daniel and Sensei Lawrence gone, you had taken to writing down names and pulling them out of a bowl to decide on sparring partners.

All the negative emotions you felt channeled in to great excitement when Miguel called your name – followed by Hawk's.

You could have sworn you saw a look of something you couldn't read – concern, perhaps, or fear? Before he seemed to share your excitement as he stepped on to the mat with a grin that was almost predatory.

Two could play at that game.

“You're as good as dead,” you said, your voice dripping venom. Hawk's smirk just grew.

“Is that so, princess? I'd like to see you score as much as a point.”

A light bulb lit in your mind.

“Yeah?” you taunted. “What if I get three?”

Hawk laughed. “You got a lot of confidence, don't you? I'll tell you what. If you can score three points on me and win, I'll...” He bit his lip as he thought. “I'll let you boss me around for a week. Whatever you want.”

The blood rushed through your veins, ready more than ever to fight. You were grateful for the lack of your sensei, knowing this nonsense wouldn't stand if he were here.

“Deal.”

“Are you guys done?” Miguel huffed, standing between you two, ready to referee. “Good. Bow.”

You bowed without intent and got straight to attacking. Hawk didn't expect it; he came from the dojo that prides itself on strike first and yours cared mainly about defense. You earned your first point within seconds.

That only served to throw Hawk off his game further. He dived in right away for the attack and was caught unprepared when you fell, sweeping his leg.

You earned your second point.

By that point, Hawk might as well have been fuming out the ears. His brows furrowed in anger as he looked at you like you were the most vile thing he had ever seen; that satisfied something within you.

The flurry of hits and misses was so rapid you were caught unprepared when you managed to land a punch on Hawk, Miguel's voice rising as he named you victor.

Hawk huffed, clearly exerted. You smiled. “You're mine.”

You were fully intending to use this bet to its full potential.

The next day was Saturday, and Hawk, true to his word, showed up at your doorstep at 9 p.m sharp, just as you had ordered.

You paid him no kindness when you opened the door, not exchanging a word with him before demanding: “Helmet?”

Hawk handed you a helmet, not looking particularly pleased about the situation but not being able to stop himself from taking in an eyeful of you anyway.

You needed a ride to tonight's party – that's where Hawk came in, beginning his work for you as a personal valet. Accordingly for the event, you were dressed meticulously, showing off your best features – and if you were to judge by Hawks reaction, you were on your way to turn heads.

You climbed on the motorcycle after him, circling your arms around him loosely; but when he kicked off and started the ride, you couldn't help but tighten your hold.

The party was overcrowded with people from the moment you got there; Yasmine's parties tended to get a bit... excessive.

You ditched Hawk the moment you got sight of your friends, ditching the helmet on his bike to run over to Sam, Moon and Yasmine.

Yasmine didn't hide the dirty look she sent at Hawk. “Ew. Who's the freak?”

You grinned proudly. “My valet. Ignore him. Actually...”

You looked over to the drinks table; someone had tapped a keg and it was being swarmed with people.

“Hey, Hawk!”

Hawk turned to you, the slightest furrow in his brow as he had already joined his own friends. You pointed at the drinks table. “Vodka soda!” you ordered.

He rolled his eyes, but did it anyway. Your friends watched wide-eyed as he obeyed you wordlessly, bringing over the drink. “Anything else, princess?”

“Yes,” you gave him a judging once-over. “Don't drink tonight. I want to get home in one piece.”

He bit his cheeks and glared at you before growling “Fine” and returning to his friends.

At some point you didn't even want a drink any more, it was just fun ordering Hawk to go fetch you another one; and so, you found yourself unintentionally drunk, laughing mindlessly at anything said and swaying on your feet.

You didn't even know how late it had gotten when Hawk came in the living room looking for you, ready to go home as most the others already had.

You had earlier made him promise to take you home as well, and – something you were quickly learning was, Hawk was definitely a man of his word. He spotted you half-sprawled on the couch, laughing with Yasmine at something you didn't fully register. Your cup was askew in your hand, contents about to spill over when Hawk grabbed it out of your hand, placing it on a table nearby.

“Come on, Y/n. It's time to go.”

“Not yet!” you grinned gleefully, taking hold of his wrist and shaking it dumbly as you spoke. “Later! We're having fun!”

Hawk placed his free hand on yours that held him. “It's four AM, Y/n, time to call it a night.”

You didn't reply, instead resorting to pouting like a child.

His eyes softened (the puppy eyes never failed to work) – but his jaw clenched. “If you don't come now I'm leaving you here.”

“Fine!” you hurriedly rose to your feet, using Hawk for balance. “Bye,” you pouted at Yasmine childishly as Hawk pulled you away from her and out of the house.

The sudden quiet of the outside was nearly overwhelming, Hawk's voice sounding too loud for you. “How am I supposed to get you home when you're this drunk?”

“I'm not drunk,” you answered instinctively, knowing that you very well were.

“If you can make it to the bike in a straight line, I'll believe you.” You look at his bike, ten feet ahead. You decide to keep holding on to him. “That's what I thought. Listen. You gotta stay awake, okay? I can't have you falling off in the middle of the road, or making me sway, because then we're both dead. Got it?”

“Dead. Got it.”

Hawk didn't look convinced, but placed a helmet on you and buckled it anyway.

It was about ten minutes in to the ride when Hawk pulled over. He turned to you, his voice as serious as he could make it; you simply smiled, somewhat dazed. “This isn't going to work.”

“Hm?”

“Y/n!” Hawk called, trying to wake you up a little. “Don't fall asleep!”

“Yes, sensei.” you slurred. Had you been any more awake, you might have noticed the way Hawk's eyes widened at that.

Hawk had to refocus himself to go on. “I'm serious. Look... My house is closer than yours. You can sleep it off at mine, and I'll take you wherever tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” you shrugged, your mind not caring about much other than regaining the warmth of Hawk's body pressed against yours.

Minutes later you pulled up at an unfamiliar house. Hawk unbuckled your helmet and set it aside, helping you off the bike and guiding you inside, motioning Shhh as he led you through the corridor of his darkened house until you reached his room.

The most natural thing for you to do the moment you saw a bed was to collapse on it. In the seconds Hawk turned his back on you to find you Pj's to wear, you had fallen asleep.

Looking at you on his bed, Hawk exhaled heavily. He was very aware of your hatred of him; what he couldn't understand was, if everyone else forgave him, why not you?

It certainly didn't help that you looked the way you do, that you were talented, and that everyone loved you.

So Hawk undid your shoes and pulled them off, laying a blanket on you before leaving you to sleep.

You woke up groggy, somewhat hungover and in a strangers room; an interesting start to the day.

You didn't really want to leave the comfort of your lonesome in the room but it was clear you would have to face the music at some point, so you womaned up and left the room.

Following the smell of food cooking, you walk down a hallway to find a red-haired man in the kitchen, his tattooed back to you, muscles flexing as he flipped a pancake.

With his hair down, it took you a moment to register who you're seeing; who's bed you spent the night in.

Hawk.

Your first instinct was to groan, to cower in to yourself in regret; but then you remember how tenderly he treated you the night prior, making sure you got safely to a bed, letting you have his bed.

You swallowed your pride and stepped in to the kitchen. “Morning.”

Hawk's shoulders jumped in fright as you startled him; you couldn't help but giggle. He quickly rightened himself, straightening his back and flexing his abs as he turned to you.

He was good looking and he knew it. You hated him.

However, you felt your power returning to you as he couldn't help but look you up and down, your disheveled clothes revealing a bit more than they had the night before. Hawk inhaled sharply, reminding himself of who he was, how he was supposed to act: unfazed.

“Bout time you got up.”

You frowned, looking at the kitchen clock. “What do you mean about time? It isn't even noon yet.”

“Yeah, well,” Hawk flipped a pancake on to a nearby plate. “You wanted me to take you to the mall today, right? I have practice later, so it's gotta be now.” The Eagle-fangs were holding weekend practices of their own, something you weren't a fan of.

“Jeez, fine,” you sneered, allowing yourself to sit at the kitchen table. Amidst the chaos that was waking up in Hawks bed, you had totally forgot you previously asked him to take you out today. Yasmine's parents were making her take tutoring lessons, Moon was doing some spiritual healing thing and Sam was with Miguel, so you were left all alone – but you certainly didn't intend on spending Sunday at home, doing nothing.

Hawk finally shut off the burner and joined you at the table with a stack of pancakes and two plates in tow. “Eat away your hangover. I'm not gonna hold your hair up if you hurl.”

Breakfast with Hawk ended up being a surprisingly civil affair; so was shopping. There was something exciting about dragging him along after you, shop after shop, having him carry your bags and modeling clothes for him. And honestly, you were loving the effect you had on him. You knew he was trying to hide it, but you could see the way he grew antsy when you tried on bikinis. You loved teasing him, knowing he couldn't have you.

What also didn't hurt was the way you two turned heads walking down streets together. You were undeniably gorgeous, and he... While at first you thought it was the bright red mohawk that grabbed peoples eyes, after a close inspection you couldn't deny he had fair features, too. You had to look away whenever he tensed his jaw, accentuating his jawline, or if God forbid he smiled, you had to deny the way his smile made your stomach knot up.

As though to top off the experience of him, by the time you finished shopping, Hawk would have been late if he was to take you home, so you suggested he take you to practice with him and just take you home once he was finished. And oh my... You did not need to see him fighting. Having a whole hour to see his biceps flexing as the threw punches was doing you no favors; when you were both practicing you were too busy with yourself to notice him, but right then you had a whole hour to do nothing but stare.

At the end of the practice you rose when Hawk approached you, ready to go. When his sensei understood you were waiting there for him, he asked Hawk, “Yours?”

Hawk didn't answer; he merely smirked that Hawk smirk of his. His sensei nodded proudly. “Nice.” Creep.

You had a couple more days to squeeze the most you could out of your bet, and by all means were you planning on using them.

Hawk was taking you to school and home every day on the back of his bike – to Miyagi-do, too. It became a regular thing to see you two together, and if anyone was expecting you, they expected Hawk, too.

Just as the previous mornings, you and Hawk walked in to school together. Seeing your friends, you bid him goodbye and went to join them, your eyes lingering on him a bit too long as he said hello to Miguel.

Yasmine's jaw dropped as she looked at you, her expression scandalized. “What?” you asked.

“You're totally in to the freak!”

“What? No,” you denied – but even as the words left your mouth, you could hear your lack of conviction. “No.”

You looked back to where Hawk and Miguel stood; this time, he caught your eye. Then, with total audacity, he winked at you.

You felt heat rush through your body.

The smirk that grew on him suggested he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You hated it.

Deciding to put an end to this madness, you wordlessly leave your friends and march up to Hawk, a new rage running though you.

He stopped talking with Miguel when you reached him; Miguel visibly tensed at what he felt was a dangerous situation for him to be in.

“Sidebar,” you ordered. Hawk smirked.

“After you, princess.”

You hoped no one would notice when you lured him in to an empty classroom, but in all honesty, it was you and Hawk. There were always eyes on you two.

You turned to him once you were engulfed in the silence of the room. “Listen. I don't know what you're playing at, but cut it out. I own you, got it? Don't go winking at me in the hallway like I'm your girlfriend or something.”

You expected to see him cower, blush, show any sign of intimidation – but there was no such emotion. The smirk he wore only grew in confidence. “You sure about that?” he asked cheekily. “Because it seems to me like you'll find any excuse to be around me.”

You couldn't believe the audacity of this boy. You were stunted for words; he went on. “Be honest with yourself. Once the week is up, you'll still find reasons to talk to me.”

You bit your cheeks; you hated how he was right, how he read you so easily. “And look, I'm done playing this game too.”

Your stomach dropped. Was he about to reject you, without you even confessing? “I'm not playing with you,” you tried to say intimidatingly, but your voice came out too small for comfort.

“Me neither. So...” Hawk looked down at you; you could have drowned in his ocean eyes. You averted your gaze to the side, crossing your arms.

“Fine. We can call it off early.”

Hawk chuckled. You wanted to punch him. “You still don't get it, do you?”

You returned your eyes to Hawk, ready to chew him out when he placed his hands on your cheeks, pulling you to him for a kiss.

You could feel yourself melting in to the kiss, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you as you finally got to experience what you didn't want to admit to yourself that you craved so deeply.

When he finally pulled away, he kept his hands on you, your noses nearly touching. “I've wanted to do that for a long time,” Hawk admitted.

You half-smiled. “It's only been a week.”

Hawk had burst in laughter, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “You still don't get it.” Before you could protest his words, his lips met your once more.

Maybe you could find it in you to forgive him, after all.

#cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #eli moskowitz imagine #eli hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz/reader #cobra kai fanfic #cobra kai hawk

589 notes · View notes

angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 2

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing: Vampire!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of PTSD, Reader is ex police, Possible home invasion, NSFW sexy times, protected sex.

Previous Parts: Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand Castle Under The Stars. Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Chapter 2

Walter had managed to recover from the shock of seeing his best friend and his wife being able to make their eyes glow, and as unbelievable as it sounded, had accepted their explanations of how they’d been turned into Werewolves. Much like his own knowledge of Vampirism before he had been turned himself, he quickly understood that what the media made these quirks of nature to be and what they actually were had been greatly exaggerated.

Sy had stayed up into the early hours of the morning with him, sharing the better part of a bottle of bourbon as he’d described how it affected their family, and how his wife only turned when her period coincided with a full moon, and how they dealt with childcare during the times that they would turn.

Walter woke with a start, the soft mountain light pouring in the windows and for a moment he was confused, not recognising his surroundings until he remembered spending the rest of the night on Sy’s couch. His mouth felt like something had crawled inside and died, and he swore in that moment not to share hard liquor with someone that could howl at the moon. Finding some painkillers high in a kitchen cabinet he crushed two between his teeth before drinking straight from the tap. Standing tall he moved his neck, trying to get the kinks and knots out of his muscles when a pair of fluffy slippered feet appeared in the doorway. Looking up Walter poorly suppressed a laugh as he saw Sy wearing a pair of sheepskin moccasins and what was obviously his wife’s robe;

“Reginald, you look stunning” Walter muttered as he watched his friend shuffle into the kitchen

Sy held up his finger and waggled it, wincing at the sunlight pouring in the window;

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that, the only people that call me that are the preacher or my Ma, and unless you’re planning on marrying me or making me biscuits...”

Walter laughed, leaning against the counter as Sy filled the coffee pot as if he was on autopilot, before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a baby bottle with the previous day’s expressing date on. Setting the bottle to warm in a bowl of water he handed Walter a tin of coffee;

“Fill that up, i’m gonna go get Luna”

A few minutes later he reappeared holding his little girl in his arms, wrapped in a soft blanket covered in moons and stars. Grabbing the bottle before settling at the kitchen table, he popped the lid off and shook the bottle, before lifting it and shaking a few drops onto his tongue, laughing when he saw Walters eyes go a little wide;

“Better straight from the source but Mama is sleepin’ so its me in Mama’s robe” he explained with a grin on his face. Walter placed a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Sy; “Thanks man… hey, in the fridge there’s a pint of pigs blood from Walkers Meats… ya’know, if you need it”

“Why have you got pigs blood?”

“The missus was gonna make some Scottish thing, some sorta sausage, but if you need it, we can always get another… in fact she’s gonna be too tired to use it before it spoils, what with the full moon and all...”

Sy turned his attention to his tiny daughter feeding in his arms, giving Walter the sense of privacy to do what he needed to do. As Luna finished her bottle Sy held her to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she let out a burp he would have been proud of himself, only looking up when he heard Walter also let out a low belch;

“You need me to rub your back too Walt?”

“Fuck off Sy” the vampire said lightheartedly, a sense of relief in his mind now that the guy that had become one of his best friends knew his secret.

Pulling the last crate of bottles off the back of the pickup you thanked the guy from the craft brewery and waved him off, taking a deep breath before slowly climbing the fire escape at the back of the bar that led into the storeroom. It had been a long shift already, starting at 10am you’d opened up and started the ovens, restocked the bar as the cleaners had come through and cleaned the place top to bottom. Your boss was always decent to his staff, paying a good wage and having the cleaning crew come in during the closed daytime hours rather than in the early hours of the morning.

Working around them as they did their job, you restocked the caddy’s on the tables with silverware, napkins, and condiments, before returning to the bar and checking on the ice machine.

“Hey we’re all done now” one of the cleaners said as you looked up.

“That’s great, thanks. You guys always make this place look good”

Chatting with them you walked them through the storeroom - something your boss always insisted on that any non bar staff had to be escorted through - before one reached for the wooden rail on the fire escape. Something made you stop talking and before you could stop yourself, one hand was pushing one of the guys back into the storeroom, the other was grabbing the shirt that was already standing outside. Just as you did the rail slipped away, as if in slow motion, the three of you looking in fear as the heavy wood crashed twenty feet below onto the empty kegs that were stored beneath.

Speechless you stood there, fingers still curled around the shirt of one, hand splayed across the chest of the other;

“Fuck” you whispered quietly, not to anyone in particular.

“You could say that…”

Having made sure both cleaning guys were ok, if a little shaken up, you made them leave by the front door then considered your options. Dialling the boss you weren’t surprised to hear it ring out before going to voicemail. He had strict downtime rules, and was more than likely out on his ranch land taking care of his horses. Knowing he trusted you to make the right judgement, you scrolled through your numbers and dialled Marshall’s Property Maintenance;

“Marshall’s, what can i do for you?”

“Hi, i’m calling from Big G’s Sports Bar? We’ve just had the handrail fall off our fire escape. Wondering if you’ve got space to fix it this afternoon?”

There was a pause before you heard a long exhale of breath;

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in twenty minutes”

“Thanks Walter”

Hanging up you smiled. You’d worked with Walter when you’d been on the police force, you’d been a patrol cop that would assist with crime scene control and you’d been first on the scene for countless horrific acts of violence. One final call had given you PTSD so bad you’d resigned, finding a home in the small town of Blackwater Lake and a steady job at Big G’s Sports Bar. Your boss was the big quiet type, liked to spend more time out on his ranch with his horse, having enough trust in you to run the day to day operations of the bar as his assistant manager.

It had been well past 9pm when Walter finished the repairs. Your boss had come in and helped him out when he’d got your text, leaving you in charge of the first few hours of opening. When the two men reappeared through the storeroom you smiled at them, getting ready for the evening handover before grabbing your coat and clocking off.

A few minutes later as you hopped off the last step of the fire escape onto the dandelion scattered gravel - your boss liked to let them grow - you smiled at Walter as he was loading his tools into his truck;

“Hey, thanks for today. Really saved our bacon… without the fire escape we wouldn’t be up to code so couldn’t have opened”

“S’ok. Glad you called” Walter admitted; “It’s been a while…”

Scuffing the gravel with your boot you swallowed the lump that was in your throat;

“How have you been? Since… ya know…”

“Alive. Wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t of been for you and your partner”

“We did what was needed… not every day you see va…” you stopped yourself, you still hadn’t completely come to terms with what you’d seen; “V...vagrants doing that… I’m just glad we got there in time…”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Walter rounded the truck and stood in front of you;

“Do you need a ride home? Your boss mentioned that you walk to work and you stayed late where he was helping me get this fixed”

“Thanks, that’d be nice”

Over the next few nights Walter would appear at the bar early evening, usually under the pretense of checking the work on the fire escape or dropping off the bill to the office, and you quickly clocked that he would always be leaving just as your shift was ending to conveniently give you a ride home. Not that you minded, the weather had turned unseasonably cool after the warmth of the parade weekend, so the casual conversation as he drove you home in the warmth of his giant truck was a good way to end the day.

As he rolled into the parking lot behind your apartment complex you wondered if you should invite him in for a coffee, but weren’t sure if you were reading his intentions correctly. Gnawing on your lip you reached into your pocket for your keys, smiling at Walter as he pulled the truck to a stop;

“There we go, home sweet home. Have a good night”

“You too Walter”

Stepping out you smiled and gave him a little wave, knowing he waited until you had gotten into your building.

Watching you go Walter cursed himself. When Rachel had left he’d been in the dumps even more than usual, but over the last few days he’d taken a shine to you. He was pretty sure you had clued onto the fact that he had always turned up around the time of your shift finishing, but when he’d found out from Geralt that your car had died and you couldn’t afford to repair it, he didn’t like the thought of you walking home alone. Sure Blackwater Lake was a sleepy little town, but keeping in mind what lurked in the woods - both natural and supernatural - he felt better knowing you’d gotten home. He had been sure you were going to invite him in for coffee tonight, but he’d gotten butterflies in his stomach and had blurted out a farewell before you’d had the chance.

Looking up at your apartment he let out a sigh.

Then… then something caught his eye. You hadn’t been in the building long enough for the shadow to be you, knowing you stopped to grab your mail each time you entered the building. Killing the engine he reached to the glove compartment for his gun - he still had a concealed carry permit - and raced to the building.

Juggling your mail and your purse, you held the letters in your mouth as you searched for the right key on your set when suddenly the sound of thundering footsteps made you spin around, your jaw dropping when you saw Walter appear from the staircase and running to your side. His hand was on your arm and he was pulling you to the side of your door before holding you to his chest;

“There’s someone in your apartment”

“What? No, i locked everything before i left… and there’s no sign of any damage to the door…”

Letting you go he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled for the sheriff, but as you listened in you could hear the volunteer dispatcher explain that both the Sheriff and the two deputies were out on the highway dealing with an 18 wheeler logging truck that had spun off on a bend. Walter cursed under his breath and hung up;

“Do you still carry?”

“No… not since…”

“Ok. Unlock the door and stay behind me”

The next minute seemed to last both seconds and hours, following Walter through your apartment until he silently pushed the bedroom door open with his gun;

“Freeze!”

The shape in the darkness didn’t move, and when you peered over Walters extended arm and you realised what he was looking at, you let out a sigh and flipped the lightswitch, the ‘threat’ suddenly illuminated and Walters shoulders dropping;

“Oh…”

Your spare uniform shirt was hanging on the frame to the window where you’d hung it earlier in the day so the sunshine would dry it. You let out a deep breath and laughed, resting your forehead against Walters shoulder;

“It’s just my uniform…” you hadn’t realised your voice was shaking until Walter turned and wrapped his arms around you

“I’m sorry i scared you”

Burying your face in the warmth of his sweater, your voice was muffled as you spoke;

“Its ok. I’d rather you have seen the mess in my apartment and saved me from an intruder than the alternative…” you smiled weakly at him, and it was then that the tension in the room was like static before a storm. Like the first lightning strike, when Walters lips touched yours it was as if electricity coursed through your veins, the kiss hungry and needy, contact between two touch starved people needing that connection. Your fingers curled in threads of his knitwear, pulling yourself closer as his arms wrapped around you and his hands splayed out over your ass, squeezing handfuls of flesh so he could pull you flush against his body. The kiss deepend and his tongue sought entrance between your lips which you eagerly granted. He tasted of coffee and peanut butter chocolate, and when he pulled away you were both gasping for breath.

“So, vampires do need oxygen then?”

“How do you…? How are you not scared?”

“Because i was there when it happened. And I've seen you hundreds of times since. I’ve seen you in the mirror, I've seen you outside in the sunshine, i’ve literally served you garlic bread…” you paused; “And i didn’t need to invite you in. Whatever myths are linked to your condition, i know the Walter behind them, i know the quiet and controlled Walter that assesses a situation and ensures everyone is safe…” you paused; “Because I know i’m safe with you”

Walter opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat caught the words. Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath as you gently held his face in your palms, your thumbs softly caressing the skin of his cheeks where his beard ended. You pressed your lips to his, and this kiss was different, this kiss was full of passion, of acceptance and the growing need that was blooming.

Clothes were scattered as fingers and lips found each new patch of exposed skin, running your fingernails down his massive chest as you both fell to the bed, your fingers curling in the coarse hair that covered his chest before clutching at his belt as his teeth sharply ran over the line of your collarbone and you let out a gasp;

“More…”

“I… I’m not going to bite you…”

“I don’t want you to, but my neck is super sensitive, it's like my biggest turn on…”

At that moment Walter could feel the change, his eyes paling and his fangs growing more prominent as you watched from below him, but what he wasn’t expected was the groans that escaped your throat and the way your body shook;

“Did you just…?” he cocked an eyebrow, he already knew you’d just cum, but he wanted you to admit it.

“Yes, fuck yes, now i need more…”

With a growl he ducked his head down and peppered sharp kisses over your neck, hands working on each others jeans before you were able to kick them off. Your hands ducked into Walters pants and you grasped at his hard length, hot in your palm through his underwear;

“Oh fuck, you’re big…”

“Don’t worry, i’ll go slow… do you… do you have protection?”

“In the drawer”

He reluctantly pulled himself off the bed, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he searched out the condoms, pulling the box out and swinging something else from his fingertips;

“These aren’t regulation edition”

The pink fluffy handcuffs had been a present a long time ago, and had somehow moved apartments with you;

“Next time…” you reached and grabbed them from him, tossing them aside before grabbing the box and a small foil packet, ripping it open with your teeth as Walter quickly shed himself of his boots and jeans, his dark boxers discarded as you reached for him and smoothed the latex over his fat dick.

He smoothed his hands down your legs, before tugging you down the bed and flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up until your ass was in the air. The rough brush of his beard against your soft inner thighs was quickly soothed by his tongue swiping a firm lick through your soaked folds. He took hold of your hips and you felt him move into position, the firm nudge at your entrance before with a low groan he speared you with the slow stretch of his girth.

“You feel so fucking good… so tight…”

Your fingers curled into the bedsheets and your jaw hung open, the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your veins felt like an elixir as Walter hammered into your tight velvet channel. The carnal slap of flesh on flesh resonating around the room, only joined by the breathless pants escaping your lips and the grunts Walter would let slip as he sought pleasure in your body with his own. He splayed his fingers over your back, running the palm of his hand up your spine until he was able to cup your neck and pull you up, flush with his heated body. His sharp teeth scraped over your neck, his beard rough against the etched skin;

“Look in the mirror. See how amazing you look”

Focusing your attention on the dresser mirror that stood in the corner, you watched as Walter continued to slowly rock his hips, fucking you slow and hard from behind. But it was his eyes that drew your attention, icy pools of white with deep obsidian pupils piercing the tundra, and the flash of danger from his sharp teeth at your neck, just catching on the skin as he spoke;

“You’re so fucking beautiful, dunno what i did to deserve you… will you cum for me?” he slid his hand down your stomach and in the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, seeking out the sensitive pearl of your clit and rubbing the pad of his finger over it in firm circles; “Will you cum for me?” he repeated, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“Yes… Walter, please…”

“What do you need…”

“My neck, please…”

Walter knew he couldn’t bite you, there were so many unknowns he’d never explored, but he closed his eyes and focused his energies on bringing you to completion. Thrusting his hips in time to the movement of his hand, whilst sucking a hickey onto your neck, knowing his teeth were rubbing against the skin but not breaking it. The triple stimuli sent you over the edge, your head rolling back onto his shoulder and your mouth open in a silent scream as you came so hard you saw stars, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as your walls gripped Walter tight, before with one final thrust you heard him growl as he came hard.

He held you for the longest time, your heart racing in your chest as echoes of your orgasm ricocheted through your body. As Walter started to soften you felt him hold the condom at the base of his shaft as he pulled out gently;

“Err… bathroom?”

“Just through there” you nodded to the door off of the bedroom as you fell to the bed, laying back with a smile on your face.

A few moments later he reappeared with a warm washcloth, first soothing your neck before tenderly attending to the mess between your thighs. After putting it back in the bathroom he appeared at the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans when you caught his wrist and pulled him onto the bed;

“You don’t need to go”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

“Look, unless you’re going to turn into a bat or something, you’re fine… we can talk, order some takeout…”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled to his chest as he smiled sleepily;

“That sounds good. Can i take you out on a proper date at some point?”

“That’d be nice. Though our options are slim in this town, its only Sue’s Coffee Shop or Big-G’s Bar… unless you want to get a take-out pizza and sit outside on the kerb”

“I’ll cook, come to my place? What are you doing Friday night?”

“I’m off, but…”

“But?”

You felt your cheeks flushing with heat;

“I’m due on by the end of the week…”

“Oh. OH…” You looked up at Walter and saw a flush over his cheeks and his blue eyes glinting with excitement and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh… you’re into that?”

“You’re… not? Because i just want to say, i would happily give oral to my girl on her period even pre-vamp status…now its just…”

“A snack?”

He let out a low belly laugh;

“Yeah, you could say that”

Curling up to Walter’s chest you felt a sense of calm you hadn’t experienced for a very long time, the conversation flowing easily and long into the night, before you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall smut #Vampire!Walter #henry cavill

189 notes · View notes

joheun-saram · 4 years

Text

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2 for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day.

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

------------------------

Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you.

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one.

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him.

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out.

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #btsholidaybingo #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x yn

643 notes · View notes

favefandomimagines · 4 years

Text

Why Did You Do It? (r.c.)

Summary: you find out that Rafe gave the Rolex you gifted him as collateral for Barry and that was the last straw for you.

AN: again, this is not entirely canon Rafe. there’s no murder or the assault on Pope. The only canon thing about him is the drug problem (:

It was no secret that you and Rafe were the power couple of the OBX. No one would even attempt to get with you or get with him in fear of the other coming to their defense.

Though the pressures Rafe faced from his father was a constant point of contension in your relationship. So much so, you knew that when Rafe stormed into your bedroom and began pacing, it was best to let him get it out before even trying to calm him down.

But Rafe was dead set on making sure that you stayed in his life. Obviously because he loved you and he felt that you brought out the best version of him, but also because you were the only thing his father thinks he’s done right.

You slowly began to hear the rumors that were going around the island. That Rafe was getting into hard drugs and started to lash out more at the Pogues. Confrontation wasn’t Rafe’s strong suit but you didn’t want to be with someone who turned to drugs to cope.

The night of your first confrontation, you apprehensively entered the large house and practically ran into Ward.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Cameron.” You greeted him. “Hello, Y/N. It’s good to see you. Rafe’s in his room. Probably thinking of what he can mess up next.” Ward said, clearly a jab at his son.

You ignored the irritation that you felt hearing him say that. You gave him a small smile before treating up the staircase towards Rafe’s room. The door was partially open and you saw him sitting at his desk, doing stuff on his laptop.

“Knock, knock.” You announced. “Hey, baby. I didn’t know you were coming by today.” Rafe greeted you, looking over his shoulder. “Uh, yeah I just wanted to stop by. See what you were up to today.” You explained.

“Probably golf with Topper and Kelce. Kelce is having a party at his house tonight so maybe you and I would stop by.” Rafe said.

At that point, you knew you just had to be straight forward and confront him about the things you’ve heard. “Rafe, can I talk to you about something?” You asked, moving to sit on his bed. “Of course you can.” He said, still clicking on his computer.

“I’ve been hearing some stuff recently. That you’ve been going to the Cut to get drugs from Barry.” You said. “Is it true?” You questioned. “Where have you been hearing this?” Rafe asked you. By that point, he had completely turned around to face you.

“It’s been going around, Rafe. Sarah texted me, saying I should probably talk to you about it.” You answered. “Y/N, I would never lie to you. I’m not going to the Cut for drugs. Why would I even want to take drugs?” He asked. “I don’t know. To forget about your dad and his constant pressure on you.” You said.

“I don’t need drugs to help me escape from my dad. I have you and you are the only thing I need to make me feel happy.” He told you.

Of course you believed him. He had never given you a reason to not trust him before. You nodded your head as he got up and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

Your second suspicion that something was wrong, was at a party Topper was throwing. You and Rafe had shown up together as per usual but at one point in the night, you had gotten separated.

You were talking with Sarah when Rafe came turning the corner, seeming to be too hyped up about a local party. “Hey baby! I was wondering where you snuck off to.” He said, sliding his arm around your waist.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing.” You said, looking up at him. And when you did, you noticed some white powder on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows and raised your hand to wipe it off.

Rafe’s smile faltered slightly but he recovered quite well. The only person who seemed to still be dwelling on it was you.

“Rafe, where were you?” You asked. “I was with Kelce, he wanted to do a keg stand.” He answered casually. “Promise that’s all that happened?” You questioned. “I promise. I wouldn’t break a promise, you know that.” Rafe told you.

He kissed your lips sweetly and then the two of you enjoyed the rest of your time at the party.

After that, you ignored all of the rumors your friends were telling you about Rafe selling them cocaine. You trusted Rafe and why would you listen to other people over him?

That was until you went to drive Kiara to John B’s since her car had a flat tire. You were friends with Kie and didn’t mind the people she hung out with. You were good to them so they were good to you in return.

You pulled up to the house and she hopped out as JJ ran to your rolled down window. “Hey, JJ. What’s up?” You asked him. “Uh, did you ever give Rafe a Rolex with an engraving of a date on the back?” He questioned you.

“Uh, yeah, why?” You pushed. JJ didn’t say anything but fish the watch out of his shorts pocket. “Where did you get this?” You asked as he handed it to you. “He gave it to Barry for collateral. My dad stole it while he was there for a fix and I found it on the table when he passed out this morning.” JJ explained.

You looked down at the watch as Kie and JJ looked at you with both pity and anger for you. “I’ll see you guys later.” You muttered before peeling out of the driveway.

Sarah had told you that Rafe was at Topper’s and you probably broke a few laws trying to get there as quickly as possible. You pulled up and could hear the music coming from the porch.

You didn’t think you could be so angry at Rafe until that moment. The Rolex was a gift you had given him on your two year anniversary. It was the first thing you had given him with the money you earned teaching surf lessons, so it meant a lot to give it to him. You only thought it meant the same to him, but clearly it hadn’t.

“Why’d you do it?” You questioned, causing the three boys to turn around and face you. “What?” Rafe asked with a small laugh. You held up the watch and you saw guilt wash over your boyfriend’s face as he looked at the object in your hands.

“Want to try to lie to me again?” You sneered. “Y/N,” He started. “No, Rafe. Not only did you lie to me when I asked you if you were getting drugs, you gave Barry your watch as collateral for cocaine. You lied to my face and made me look like the biggest idiot in this entire town.” You snapped.

“Baby, you don’t understand.” Rafe said, moving to approach you. “What’s there to understand, Rafe?” You yelled, tears slowly starting to cloud your vision. “You lied to me. You promised me. And you clearly don’t care or you would’ve fessed up the first time I asked you.” You added. “So you can take the watch for collateral and you can never speak to me again.” You finished, shoving the watch into his chest until he took it.

“Please, Y/N, don’t do this. I can’t lose you.” He pleaded. “You lost me the second you lied to me.” You muttered, wiping the tears off your cheeks and retreating back to your car.

It had been a couple of weeks since you had broken up with Rafe and word went around like a forest fire. Sarah was your closest friend, so she opted on staying at your house for the duration of those couple of weeks. Just going home to get new clothes and tell Ward she was alive.

As she was getting an outfit for a Boneyard party that night, Rafe stopped in her doorway.

“Are you still staying at Y/N’s?” He asked her. “Yeah.” Sarah answered plainly. “How is she? Is she okay?” Rafe questioned. “Is she okay? Seriously? She’s devastated, Rafe. You broke her trust and lied to her. She didn’t love you so much, she’d probably be fine.” Sarah answered.

“If she loved me so much, she wouldn’t have broken up with me.” Rafe replied, just out of pure frustration. Not frustration with you but with himself because it was his own fault.

“If you loved her as much as you claimed you do, you would’ve been honest with her. Instead of making her butt of every joke for months.” Sarah rebutted. She zipped her bag closed and pushed past her older brother. Leaving him there to regret his actions even more.

Rafe looked down at the watch on his wrist and groaned angrily. He had to get you back but he just didn’t know how.

Later that evening, Sarah had to drag you to the Boneyard to the party the Pogues were throwing. You obviously weren’t in the party mood but Sarah was very persuasive.

You were stood with the Pogues as you bobbed slightly to the music that was playing. John B could see that your mind was a million miles away from the Boneyard.

“You okay?” He asked you. You gave him a tight lipped smiled and nodded your head, looking at the contents of the plastic cup in your hand. “I know you better than that, Y/N. It’s about Rafe isn’t it?” John B questioned.

He could see your face distort into something he couldn’t quite comprehend. “Y/N, what he did was fucked up. I know that, you know that, and I’m sure he knows that. Because when you were with him he laid off of us and he was actually tolerable. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness but maybe it would be good for you to listen to him. If not to understand but maybe to get closure so you can move on.” John B told you.

You hated to admit that he was right but he was. If it wasn’t going to fix things between the two of you, talking to Rafe would give you the closure you needed to move on.

You excused yourself from your friends as you wandered to find Rafe but luck wasn’t on your side.

“Topper, where’s Rafe?” You asked the blonde. “I think he’s by the keg.” Topper answered. You were about to go towards that direction when Topper stopped you. “Look, I know what he did was bad but he really loves you. If that’s worth anything.” He told you.

You just gave him a curt nod before walking towards the keg.

Rafe was leaning against the table, staring at his feet until he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up and saw you standing a few feet away from him. Rafe could tell you were uncomfortable by the way you shifted weight from one foot to the other.

“H-Hey.” He stammered. “Hi. We, uh, need to talk.” You spoke. Rafe gave you a nod and gestured for the two of you to step away from the music and people.

“I miss you.” He said. “Why’d you lie to me?” You questioned, not even registering what he just said.

Rafe swallowed the lump in his throat as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I lied to you because I knew you’d be disappointed in me. You wouldn’t see me anymore, you’d see your boyfriend the guy who does cocaine. I didn’t want you to look at me like the way you are right now.” He answered. “And what about the watch? I worked so hard to give you that and you just, gave it away.” You said.

“I know, it was a mistake. I just supposed to sell the coke for extra cash and I would’ve gotten the watch back. My dad’s been on my ass about money for stuff around the house and I just panicked.” Rafe said. “That’s not an excuse for you lying to me. We aren’t supposed to lie to each other, you don’t lie to the person you love, Rafe.” You told him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-I just wanted to forget about my dad. You were right, I was doing it to cope. And I felt like if I talked to you, you would leave because you’d just see me as incapable of taking care of you.” He said.

You sighed and looked from him to the cup in your hand. “You’ve always taken care of me. You always have, but you can’t lie to me and keep things from me. That’s not what we do.” You told him.

“Can you ever forgive me? I-I paid Barry back and I haven’t stepped foot there since you left me.” Rafe pleaded.

You were quiet and hesitant for a moment, wanting so bad to be strong and not give in. But you loved Rafe even if he did make many mistakes. It was hard to just give all of the good up just for a really bad thing.

“You have one more chance. Do anything like this again, and I’m gone.” You finally spoke. “I promise, I will not lie or keep things from you again.” He said.

He walked towards you hesitantly, almost as if he were asking for permission to come closer to you. You nodded your head and he quickly engulfed you in his arms.

“I love you, I hope you know that.” You whispered. “I love you too. I always will.” Rafe said back.

It of course took time for you to full trust Rafe again but over time, he learned to heal and you found yourself trusting him again.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey

342 notes · View notes

pearl-blue-musings · 4 years

Note

Hiii how are you 💖 I'm so excited your requests are open you're an amazing writer 💖 Can I please request a medium well steak (Katsuki Bakugou) with a side of mashed potatoes and peas please 👉👈💖

Babe staaahhp but I gotchu

College AU and also quirkless AU i have no self control

I ended up, as per usual, getting carried away with this hope you don’t mind!

Warnings: 18+, smut, some tooth rotting fluff, oral fem receiving, penetration, some dirty talk, pretty soft bakubabe

Enjoy your meal~

~~~~~~~~~~~

When you had started at U.A. university, you weren’t thinking of whirlwind romances or anything cliché like that. You wanted to graduate, hopefully in four years, debate about getting a masters’ degree, and then make a living doing what you love. Of course you had time for friends, going to different sporting events and clubs.

But nothing prepared you for meeting Bakugou Katsuki.

It was at a party, where else? You had finished your midterms and one of your apartment roommates wanted to go out and celebrate. Your roommate, Mina Ashido, knew of a smaller party at one of her friends places downtown. You needed the relaxation badly and just wanted to let it all out. Midterms had been extra tough this time around, but this was your second year of college so having some surprises weren’t unwarranted.

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you and Mina headed out, leaving your other roommate at home to sleep instead of party. The ride there had been filled with fun conversation about Mina’s group of friends and how chaotic they are.

“Our personalities don’t always mesh one on one, but together well we’re still crazy but we work!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, as the music pumped you up for what was to come. Once your ride dropped you off, Mina leads you to the aforementioned apartment. When the two of you walk up to the door and open it, you’re greeted by a tall and lanky man.

“Mina you made it! Just in time, I was about to rip into some of my stash. Light up?”

Mina nods eagerly and then gestures between the two of you. “Sero! This is (Y/n). The roommate and bestie I’ve been talking about?”

The three of you walk further into the apartment so you can remove your jackets in a safe room. The guy, Sero you learn, looks to you and sticks out his hand, taking it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His attention turns back to the pink haired young lady, “Mi amor, ready to go?”

You notice Mina’s cheeks redden at the affectionate term and nods. You give her a questioning but sly look as you watch them head to the back of the apartment hand in hand. You find it absolutely adorable. Mina had been gushing on and on about how much she liked this one guy in her friend group. You muse to yourself that you’d be going home alone, and you were content with that.

Making your way into the kitchen, you notice a keg and a large bin filled with Jungle Juice. You can smell the alcohol from where you stand, enticing you even more. You walk up and grab yourself a cup and talk to the faux bartender. “A cup of your finest jungle juice please.”

The blond behind the tub smirks at you and fills your cup. “I’ve never seen you here,” he comments, a little louder because of the music. “Are you Mina’s friend?”

You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “I guess word about me travels fast. Yeah, I’m (Y/n).”

“The name’s Denki Kaminari. Let me guess, smoking with Sero?”

The two of you share a laugh at the mutual understanding. He further explains that those two have been pining for each other ever since they met and it was getting sickening. You ended up spending more time with the cute blond, bonding over funny stories of your shared instruments over a few cups of jungle juice.

Forty-five minutes later and the two of you make your way to a couch, where others were sitting if they weren’t dancing. Your mind and head were in a state of euphoria. You were relaxed, the alcohol in your system taking you to another level of satisfaction. You liked chatting with Denki, he was very witty and funny. Suddenly, nature called.

“Hey, you don’t mind if I go to the bathroom do you? I didn’t think I’d had that much,” Denki slurred/spoke. You nod rather heavily and watch him go. You stare at the contents of your half full cup and wonder if you should pour it out or finish it. As you’re about to stand, some super drunk couple dancing bumped into you and ceremoniously spilling your drink on you and the person next to you. You scoff and whine, a mutter of curses leaving your lips as your outfit is now ruined. You’re about to stand again when you hear to your left,

“Hey you extras! Watch where the fuck you’re going!”

How long had this guy been there? Probably the whole time considering you were immersed in conversation. You finally get a good look at him and see that some of your drink had spilled on him too.

Shit

“Oh my god,” you breathe, “I’m so sorry! They bumped into me and…”

“Oi, shut up,” your stranger scolds. “Come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up and a new cup.”

Shrugging, you walk with him and notice he bumps into the offending couple. He hears them yell back but he just smirks and walks on. You realize you’re walking in the direction where Mina and Sero went a couple hours ago. You put two and two together and realize you messed up the shirt of someone who lives here. If it had been some random person, yeah whatever, but he lived here, with your best friends lover.

You start to panic.

“Oh god, you live here? Now I feel worse.”

The man turns around to face you and rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve had worse fall on me and my floor. You were talking to Denki, right? Fuckin’ idiot.”

You can’t help but smile at that, feeling some of the uneasiness melt away. You’re then tugged into this room and notice how nice it smells. It’s kept up awfully nice for some college boys, but that’s a comment you keep to yourself. You see him take off his stained shirt and you almost fall over, tripping over nothing.

“Jesus!” You screech, “you should warn someone before you decide to Magic Mike them.” You stay turned around and keep your attention to the door. Yes the door, the wonderful door that has nothing on it but the wood paneling, it’s quite nice-

“You can turn around now, dumbass.”

You take a deep breath and slowly turn around. He’s in a dry shirt that’s black with what looks like a skull on it. In his hand is a hoodie and a pair of shorts looking insanely comfy. “Here, put this on. I’ll, uh, turn around so you can change.”

You nod hesitantly and wait for him to be completely turned around before you undress. Your body feels cold from where the cool drink had spilled onto you. Once your clothes are off you put on the clothes your nice stranger have given you. You don’t mean to, but you inhale the scent of his hoodie which surprisingly smells of sweet caramel and his cologne. That was almost enough to sober you up.

“I’m done, so you can turn around.” You hadn’t noticed how tired you sounded until you spoke. Your stranger turns around and promptly blushes lightly. You do your best to hide your smile, but it pokes out.

“Bakugou.”

“What?”

“My name, stupid. It’s Bakugou.” It’s quiet as he does his best to avoid staring at you for too long.

“(Y/n).”

He had driven you back to your apartment that night, letting you know that he’d text you once your clothes were clean, exchanging numbers at your doorstep. You had insisted it wasn’t a problem for you to do it, but he stubbornly put his foot down. If you weren’t so exhausted, you would have snapped back at him but refrained. It was cute, really. No guy had ever wanted to fix your clothes after someone else spilled something on it. But since it happened in his place right next to him, he couldn’t help himself.

The two of you continued to keep in touch after that. Eventually you became a regular member of their squad. Denki and Sero were happy to have you around the apartment, and Mina moreso. It all came so easily, your friendship with him, your friendship with the group; it was amazing that you went through most of college without them. You couldn’t imagine it all changing.

Until obviously it did.

Your new squad was chilling at you and Mina’s new place for your third year, getting buzzed off of either marijuana or alcohol. Your couch was the place to sit with Denki on one side and Bakugou on the other. Mina and Sero were snuggled into each other on a shared bean bag, passing a joint between the two of them. Kirishima sat on the ground by your feet, his head resting in between yours and Bakugou’s legs. The lofi music filling the room with the perfect ambiance; it was an ideal night. Kirishima rested his head against your thigh and felt your phone buzz.

“You gonna get that? It’s making your leg uncomfortable,” he breathes.

Bakugou flicks his friends shoulder, “Idiot, you can just move off of her leg,” hissing at the red head. You wave him off and get your phone out of your pocket. The caller I.D. makes you frown and you consider letting it go to voicemail, knowing full well he’ll just keep calling until he gets his answer.

Vermillion eyes peak over your shoulder and catch who it is that’s calling you. Turns out to be your scumbag of an ex, knowing that this isn’t the first time he’s tried calling you. Bakugou sees you start to shrink in on yourself as the phone keeps buzzing. “Give it here, dumbass.”

“Bakugou, it’s fine. I’ll just see what he has to say…”

“Fuck that,” his voice booming over the music as he snatches your phone and promptly answers it. “Listen dipshit, (Y/n) wants nothing to do with you. You broke her heart, you cheated, so stop fucking calling her! And if you call her again or even bother her again, I will beat your ass.”

Your eyes are blown wide at the ashy blond sticking up for you. Said ex had been harassing you nonstop since your break up two months ago and Bakugou had had enough. You didn’t think he would answer the phone for you, but he and Mina are the only ones who knew just how manipulative your ex had been so is this really that surprising? You hear the voice of your exasperated ex yell out over the phone. “And just who the fuck are you to tell me this? Her bodyguard?” You weren’t ready for how Bakugou would respond, eyes alight with a strong energy.

“Better, I’m her boyfriend.”

And he hung up.

When he returned the phone to you, your jaw was practically on the floor. All eyes in the apartment were on him as he lays back on the couch with his eyes closed. Then all eyes turn to you, equally surprised. Did he just say what you thought he said? Boyfriend? But you two hadn’t been on a date yet or even discussed it or…

“That should solve your problem.”

“Bakugou what the fuck!?” You yelled and punched his arm. “We’re not dating, why did you tell him that?”

He exhales softly and turns his attention to you, eyeing you all over. “Princess, you really can’t be that dense.” As he finishes speaking in a low tone, his arm wraps around your shoulders. You meet his gaze as if his eyes are asking for approval. “Is this,” he asks softly, “okay?”

Completely forgetting about everyone else in the room, you nod slowly. You close and lick your lips as you start to recall and remember every interaction you’ve had with the blond. How caring and attentive he’s been in his own way, how he would go above and beyond for you in the subtle ways. It all made sense, maybe you were super dense but it’s better late than never.

To further confirm your thoughts and feelings, you lean into him and lightly place your lips over his in a chaste kiss.

“It’s very okay, Katsuki.”

“Ew oh my god I’m right here. Get a room!”

“Shut up Dunce Face!”

That was a year ago, marking today as your anniversary. You had told him to come to your apartment after he had finished up at the gym with the guys. Luckily, Mina had made plans with Sero so you had the whole place to yourself. It was exciting to finally have some quality alone time with him before finals overwhelmed you all.

It was also a wonderful excuse for the two of you to be as loud as you wanted.

You wore a dress he really liked and underneath, a special surprise set of lingerie in some of his favorite colors: green, black, and orange. You were too ecstatic for him to see it, and better yet to take it off. You had felt a little uncomfortable because of your curves but he had always assured you that he loves you no matter your body shape.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the front door of your apartment open up. You pause your food making in the kitchen to go greet your boyfriend. As you approach the doorway, you see him and smell how fresh he is from the gym; it seems he showered at the gym. In his right hand is a bouquet of your favorite flowers and his left a gift bag.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” a growing smirk on his lips as he looks you up and down. You don’t miss the way his pupils dilate at your dress, knowing it’s his favorite. Since taking off his shoes, he steps up to you and sweetly kisses your lips. “Happy anniversary.”

“’Suki, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I’m fine with just having you.”

“Tch, dumbass. I know you got me something, you didn’t think I noticed that box that came in a couple days ago?”

You pout at him and take your gifts out of his hands and place them on the couch. “How’d you know?” You whine about the ruined surprise but you should’ve known your boyfriend better. “Do you know what it is?”

He runs his hand through his freshly washed hair and bites his bottom lip, “I think I have an idea, babe. Whatcha makin’?”

You twirl around in your dress, knowing damn well it’s an amazing and easy distraction to him. “Just your favorite. Everything should be ready in about 30 or so minutes?”

Suddenly you feel yourself being pushed up against the hallway wall, face to face with your gorgeous boyfriend. “Good,” he whispers huskily, “that’s enough time to enjoy my gift and dessert early.”

His voice went straight to your, now, damp panties.

You feel his hands grip your thighs to have your legs wrap around his torso. His hot breath fans over your awaiting lips, as he then kisses you hungrily. You feel his hard on against your stomach and you moan at the feel. Bakugou breaks the kiss to whisper in your ear, the heat touching your ear making you melt. “I wanna see what you got me, princess.”

“Anything for you, baby.”

With his hold on you secure, he takes you to your room blindly already knowing the way. With your door closed he latches his lips to your neck, sucking and licking all over. He places your feet on the ground as he grinds his hips into yours. Your breathing increases as you scratch at the back of his shirt. “Katsuki,” you whine.

“Mmm?”

“I want you to take off my dress.”

He hears your request and leaves your neck. He turns you around to find the zipper at the back, and slowly unzips your dress. You can feel his warm calloused fingers trailing down your spine and down to your tail bone. The fabric is now bunched down on the ground around your feet and you step out, swaying your hips as you turn around.

“Fuck baby,” he huffs, “for me?”

He had felt some of the satin as he unzipped your dress but it didn’t prepare him for what he saw before his lust blazed eyes. His colors look amazing on you and so does lace and satin. The flowered lace covering your breasts and nipples are begging for him to delve his tongue on them, admiring the extra fabric going across them. Your stomach is covered in a crisscross pattern that makes your skin look divine. And the garters on your legs, and lace thong? Bakugou is in heaven.

You nod at him and gesture for him to come closer. Bakugou gets to you post haste and starts touching you everywhere. His fingers trace all along your body and sneaking underneath your lingerie. He then trails his fingers up to your lace covered breasts and starts to pinch the hardening nub. A little squeal leaves your lips.

“That’s a new sound, do you like the feel of the lace against your nipple, baby?”

He pinches and pulls at them again, getting the same reaction that went right to his gardening dick. He groans and starts to knead your other breast, enjoying the feel of it in his hand. “Fuck,” he quickly kisses your lips, sticking his tongue in and lapping at yours, “I just wanna rip you out of this.”

“Hah, you will do no such thing. I paid a lot of money for this!”

“I’ll get you a new one, princess.”

“You are not ripping this one!”

He rolls his eyes and concedes, taking his delicate time to free your upper half from the sexy lingerie. You make a mental note to buy more lace related items. Immediately his lips go to your hardened bud and sucks viciously. You moan loudly as he releases you with a pop, going to your other breast. God, you wish he wasn’t so good with his hands and tongue, but the way he’s treating you and your reactions say otherwise.

Bakugou slowly moves you two toward your bed, in order to lay you down for what he wants to do next. You feel the back of your legs hit the edge and he places your body underneath his. Throughout all of this his lips never left your body. His lips trail closer and closer to your hips, as they wiggle in anticipation. “Do you,” you pant, “want the bottoms off?”

He takes the lining into his fingers and snaps it onto your unaware skin making you yelp. “No, your legs look hella sexy like this.” His hands are warm against your things, outlining the garter that leads up to your now soaked through thong. His nose brushes against the fabric covering your heat and he feels you shudder at the touch. He tentatively licks at your wetness and he groans in pleasure at how wet you are for him. Fuck he really loves you.

He doesn’t wait any longer and pushes the fabric aside and inserts his tongue into your awaiting heat. You whimper at the intrusion and a hand automatically goes to his hair, pulling lightly. He keeps moving his tongue up and down your slit tantalizingly slow as his fingers play and mess with your outer lips. Your breaths become erratic at your boyfriends ministrations. Before you can say anything, he moves his lips to your clit and sucks at it harshly. Your back arches off the mattress as you curse that the pleasure being given to you.

Two fingers have already entered your heat and scissor and stretch you open. Your hips have a mind of their own as they gyrate on their own accord. “Don’t make me force you to stay down, princess,” he hums against your heat. Just him saying that sends you into a frenzy, forcing him to plant his arm against your pelvis to limit your movements. He can feel the deep coil inside you that wants to come undone. And it’s all because of him and for him. His actions start to speed up and then suddenly he pulls away, making you whine at the loss of contact and friction.

“What the hell? I was so close!”

Bakugou snickers and wipes at his chin and sucks his fingers of some of your juices. The only word to describe him licking you off of him: erotic. “I want you to cum all over my cock, baby girl. Can you be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You bite your bottom lip and nod. As he stands to put himself on your bed, you notice his raging hard on straining against pants. Damn, it was hot. His pre was already leaving a stain and you wanted more than nothing than to have his dick in your mouth. Ruby eyes follow yours and he clicks in on what has your mouth watering. “If I wasn’t so eager to be inside you right now, I’d let you suck me dry. But all I want to is to be in your fucking pussy, you riding me.”

After he makes his declaration, Bakugou discards his pants and boxers and throws them somewhere in your room. He crawls up to you in between your legs and meets you with a fiery kiss. You taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he entangles you with his scent and flavor. It’s incredibly sexy and it only makes you want him more. You take a leg and turn the two of you over, with you hovering over his tight and toned body. You know he wants this to be special because you’re on top and you’re face to face. Usually if it’s just fucking you’ll do a plethora of positions. But right now you know that you want to enjoy each others presence and make sweet love. Sitting back on your legs, you lean over to your nightstand and grab a condom. You take the wrapper in your mouth, easily tearing it to reveal the rubber. A naughty idea enters your head.

“What are you doing, baby?”

All you do is lift your eyebrows and scoot back. You take the condom in your mouth and bend over close to his aching cock. You can feel his eyes on you as you lower your mouth onto him, slowly putting the condom over his hard dick. “Ah fuck, princess! Shit feels good. Now get on top of me. Now.”

You giggle at his impatience and make your way to his covered member. You grip it lightly as you line it up with your wet slit, teasing the head of his sensitive cock. His moans are heavenly in your ears as you don’t sink on him yet completely.

Bakugous hands go to your waist, as little whimpers leave his lips at your agonizing teasing. “Shit princess, just put it in already- Hah fuck!”

It’s not everyday you catch the ashy blond of guard but when you it’s glorious. You slam yourself down on his dick, euphoria filling your senses. You loll your head back as you begin to ride him, keeping a hand on his pelvis. The two of you find a hypnotic rhythm of him pumping up into you, and you grinding down on him.

His eyes can’t help but be locked onto where you’re connected, enjoying the sounds of your slick cunt on his cock. He moves his hands from your hips to grip your bouncing breasts, adding extra pleasure to this experience. Whines and moans leave yours and his mouths as you both chase ecstasy together.

“Fuck, baby girl, it’s like your extra tight and wet for me today.”

“Hah, it’s cause I love you,” you pants your hips gyrate faster as you feel your orgasm coming closer. “I’m so close now, daddy. I wanna cum, please.” You’re begging more than usual and it feels oh so good.

You feel your clit being abused and you shout at the overwhelming pleasure rocking through you as your pace falters. “You wanna cum for me? Show me you’ve earned it.” Bakugou sits up, making your legs wrap around his waist, still pumping into you. Your arms find purchase around his neck as you lay your head on his chest, ignoring the sweat between the two of you. “Come on, show me you’ve earned it baby.”

“I’ve earned it, I’ve earned it!”

“Then come with me baby,” he pauses when he feels your fingers dig into his back. “Shit, ah right there baby, fuck, fuck!”

Your hold on him tightens as your coil comes undone and your spill all over his cock, and you feel the way his cum fills up the rubber. You two start to slow down your movements, helping each other through your orgasms. You stay there for a little bit, just enjoying the moment and to let your heartbeats come back to normal.

You roll off of him and lay down next to your spent boyfriend. He looks at you with the most love and adoration that you feel like you’re meeting him for the first time. His palm goes to your cheek to pull you in to a soft and loving kiss. It doesn’t last long as you hear the timer on the oven and the rice maker go off around the same time. Your boyfriend grumbles and rolls to stand. He carefully takes off the used up condom, ties it up and disposes it in the trashcan.

“I’ll turn off the timer, anything else you need while I’m up?”

“Some water, and my favorite post coitus snacks.”

His eyes roll, “Idiot, you made a whole meal we’re not gonna waste it because you got sex munchies.”

“’Suki!”

He throws a towel at you, ignoring your pleas. As he walks away stark naked, you lay back in your bed. You can deal with the sheets later. A feeling of love runs over you and you realize that this is something you could get used to for a long time to come.

The diner is open

#answered #the diner #katsukichu #my writing #i did the thing #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #mha bakugo x reader #bakugou smut

223 notes · View notes