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alluremin · 3 years

Text

catch 22

pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

genre: fwb to lovers , college!au | fluff, smut, light angst

warnings: explicit sex; oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration w/o protection, dirty talk, light dom x sub themes, candid sex talk, jimin is a player, jungkook is a frat boy

premise: you and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

word count: 7.2k

At this time of night, you know you should expect to see his eyes following every movement your body makes. It was like you two were magnets of opposite charges, always attracted to one another regardless of how much your substance of choice was affecting your decisions. It’s bound to happen, almost as if by fate.

It was a beautifully toxic connection you shared with him; a vicious cycle comprised of sex, weed, booze, and good music, never in any particular order.

When you glance to the corner of the room surrounded by a hazy cloud of euphoria, the boy in question pulls himself at attention, elbows on his knees, wavy hair falling in front of his eyes. They bore holes into your own as if to say I’m waiting for you to join me, sweetheart.

Who were you to say no to that?

You know the power you have over him and consequently, every movement you make is intentional; your pivot from the makeshift dance floor, the sway of your hips with every step, the way you push your hair over your shoulder, and the smirk you give him when his eye contact fails to break with your own. The mix of alcohol and marijuana in your body makes you feel like you’re moving in slow motion, in the best way possible.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

No hesitation ran through your body as you sit in his lap and take the joint from his hands. “I was wondering when you’d come back from your stage, tiny dancer,” he teases.

“Oh please, Guk, don’t act like you weren’t enjoying the show,” you smirk at him, taking a drag from the stick in your hands. Next to the two of you, Yoongi scoffs at your banter and takes the joint from you.

Once your hands are free from the vice, it opens your fingers up to run your hands down the length of Jungkook’s torso.

“Oh, believe me, I was. That doesn’t mean I didn’t feel jealous when everybody else got to see the show too, though.” A fake pout takes over his features. One of his hands travels downward from its grip on your waist to settle on the hem of your emerald dress. “Is this new?” His stare is obvious at the space where your dress meets your thigh.

“Mhm, I picked it up a few days back. Like it?” The smirk is evident in your voice, not like you’re trying to hide it. The garment had accomplished its job: make your flavor of the month drool.

His gaze slowly leaves your smooth thigh and reaches your eyes, his hands still toying with the edge of the fabric. “I know what you’re doing tonight.”

You feign innocence, “Oh? What am I doing?”

“Seducing me... As if you need to.” He laughs at your fake pout, taking the hand that hadn’t snaked back around your waist to run softly along your lips. He leans in until your foreheads meet. “It’s working, by the way.”

You don’t answer, instead, you close the small gap between your lips.

“Jesus, you two, just go upstairs already,” Yoongi groans, pushing at your knees.

Jungkook giggles into the kiss, and for a second the little cloud of lust surrounding the two of you dissipates. A little pang hits your heart just then, as you break your kiss from the boy below you.

If you had met under different circumstances, maybe the feelings you had brewing in your chest for Jungkook would be less offensive. But you were just a hookup, a weekend bed partner. Nothing more, nothing less. You pushed them aside and stood before offering Jungkook your hands. He grabs them without hesitation, and suddenly the lust is restored.

You follow the familiar path you’ve found yourself traveling every weekend for months. The fraternity’s house was a maze, but you knew it like the back of your hand, and you couldn’t find it in you to feel shame about it. You drag the boy behind you without a single glance backward. You didn’t need to, knowing his eyes didn’t leave your ass the whole time giving you the boost of confidence you crave.

When you reach his bedroom at the end of the hallway, Jungkook wastes no time spinning your body and pressing you hard into the door. The impact of his lips against yours pulls a mewl from your throat, your body keening against his in desperation. He responds by slipping his tongue into your mouth.

By now, the two of you had a routine, and the way you moved was almost like a dance; his arms sliding under to lift you, his spin in route to his bed, your grip in the hair at the base of his skull.

His body follows yours downward when he drops you on his sheets, never breaking the connection of your lips. “You don’t waste time anymore, huh, Gukkie?”

He sucks his teeth at the nickname, and attacks your neck, drawing a moan from you.

“And you still act like you’re going to be in charge, but we both know that's not true, is it, princess?” You blush at his words.

Of course, he was in charge, but he has yet to realize that the brattier you act, the more you get exactly what you want. You wondered how many more drunken hookups it would take for him to catch onto your game.

His hands quickly reach down to pull his t-shirt over his head, and you never get tired of the view that meets you when he does. The small waist, bulky chest, defined abs, and tattoos covering the expanse of his left side - it should be illegal to look as sinful as he does hovering over you. Jungkook proved that God does have favorites.

You sit up on your knees quickly to pull your dress over your head and don’t miss the small gasp that leaves the man in front of you. Forgoing underwear this evening seemed like the right choice, and this moment proves that for you.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Jungkook’s hand traces down your subtle curves before pulling your kneeling form against his own. You don’t miss the way the cold metal of his belt feels on your lower stomach, the anticipation building in your body for what’s about to happen.

As his mouth moves toward yours, just before they meet, you whisper, “Is that a promise?”

That’s all it took for him to finally snap.

Before you know it, you’re on your back and his head is between your legs. With the drugs and alcohol flowing through your system, every movement his lips make against your inner thighs feels like fire. You’re just about to sit up and groan at his avoidance of your center when he wraps his lips around your clit like his life depends on it.

Your head flies back to hit the pillow beneath it and you swear the coil in your stomach already begins to twist. Jungkook had a lot of things he could brag about. The top three? His body, his voice, and his devilish tongue, in all of its glory.

His mouth continues its assault on your bud, one of his hands reaching underneath to insert two fingers into your aching center.

“Fuck, Guk,” you moan. He hums, sending a vibration through your core. You were embarrassingly close to cumming. It was like you were under his spell.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers,” his voice drips with honey. The low tone was enough to push you over the edge. You saw stars behind your eyes and euphoria washed over your entire body. “That’s my girl.”

You don’t miss the sweet comment in your bliss, choosing to not think about it too much so it doesn’t swallow you whole.

Jungkook crawls upward and crashes his lips onto yours as your hands expertly undo his belt and the buttons of his jeans. He leans back on his legs to assist you in ridding himself of the last pieces of clothing that separate the two of you, breaking the seal of your lips and looking at you with a gaze that made you stop breathing for a moment.

It’s not like this was the first time you’ve seen him naked, far from it, but he never failed to take away your breath. If a human could be perfect, you’re sure it would be him.

He wastes no time in coming back to you, lips on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in and his pretty eyes screw shut at the feeling. “Fuck, always so tight for me, baby girl.”

Your ego only has a second to absorb his compliment before your own senses are overtaken by the pleasure between your legs. “Give me a second, Guk, you’re so big,” you say as seductively as you can manage, but you know your words come out as more of a whine.

He only smirks before his lips work their magic against your neck. His tongue licks at the spot below your ears before he bites and tugs at your earlobes. Aside from his dominating personality in bed, Jungkook’s soft side for you always showed through, always waiting for permission, always putting your comfort first.

You nod your head in a gesture for him to continue.

There was no build-up to his bruising pace. As soon as you feel the grip of one hand on your waist and the other under your shoulder you know you’re not going to be able to walk straight the next day. His hips snap against yours, and with the angle of your legs, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

His mouth finds yours again, but the way he kisses you juxtaposes the way he’s fucking you in force and feeling. Jungkook’s lips are soft and sweet against yours, perfectly contrasting the hard thrusts from his hips. The combination alone draws a string of uncontrollable moans from your throat, one particularly hard thrust prompts you to scream his name.

“Shh, baby, I don’t want to get shit from the other guys anymore,” he pushes two of his fingers into your mouth. You moan again at their intrusion and happily accept them, not missing your opportunity to look at him with innocence in your eyes as you suck on the digits.

“Fuck.” He pulls his mouth from your fingers and before you can blink, he has you flipped onto your stomach. He lifts your hips a little to place a pillow underneath, and pushes himself back inside of you, all so quickly that you hadn’t even taken a breath before he was thrusting into you again.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the new angle. Jungkook drapes his body over you as he fucks into you from behind, using his tattooed hand to move your hair from your face. The same hand takes the liberty to wrap around your throat with the pressure he knows you like. When you smile at the feeling, he can’t help but kiss the corner of your mouth.

If only you knew the effect you had on him matched the one he had over you.

“Touch yourself for me, princess,” he whispers in your ear and you swear you’ve never moved faster; it was almost as if your movement were involuntary. His wish was your command.

“Guk, ‘m so close,” you manage to squeak out in broken breaths.

“Me too,” he groans. “Ladies first?” At that, he sits up and angles your hips higher to hit your g-spot with more force than before. In combination with your fingers working circles into your clit, the new angle is all it takes for you to come crashing down.

The man above you follows soon after, your involuntary clenching forcing him to meet his end. He quickly pulls himself out and aggressively strokes his release onto your back.

The collapse of your body causes the bed to seemingly swallow you whole. Jungkook falls directly next to you moments later. You both lay there, panting, blissed-out messes. His hand reaches up to push your hair off your face. When you make eye contact with him, you both turn into giggly messes. The current atmosphere of the room was lighthearted, contrasting the lecherous one that surrounded the two of you for most of the night.

Soon the post-sex haze fades, and you feel the sticky feeling of his release on your back and you feel dreadfully uncomfortable.

You kick your leg at the boy next to you. “Guk, towel please?”

He hums and rolls himself off the bed, somehow landing on his feet effortlessly. As he walks toward his bathroom, you admire the view. Who were you to deny yourself the simple pleasure of staring at his ass, if the opportunity presented itself?

He uses the towel to wipe the stickiness from your skin. His gentleness would surprise you, based on how different it was from how he approached sex, but you’ve been seeing Jungkook for a little over two months now. He had a surprisingly sweet demeanor. The towel is quickly discarded and you hum as you sit up.

“Thank you,” you giggle at him before standing up and heading toward the bathroom, not forgetting to retrieve your crumpled dress from the floor.

“Hey, are you going home?” Jungkook asks quickly when he notices the garment hanging from your hand.

“Um, I was thinking about it. Why?” You say hesitantly while you stand at the threshold of the bathroom, you suddenly feel shy under his gaze. An indiscernible look passes through his eyes at your words.

“I just… I can take you back if you want me to. Or... I mean, only if you want to… you could stay here. Maybe?”

This was new to you. You’ve never seen Jungkook look so unsure of himself. Normally, the picture of confidence personified, the frat boy in the bed before you looks small, almost timid. You could feel your heart doing backflips at his proposal.

It wasn’t the first time you and Jungkook had spent the night together, but that was normally only when you two were both too incapacitated to operate a car. This feels different, somehow; if it was because you started to realize how you feel about Jungkook, you aren’t sure.

But what you were sure of was that you could never say no to him. You wordlessly make your way back to the bed and curl up in his arms. If nothing else, you can feel his love for the night and move on with your day by morning. As the end of another cycle draws near, you silently hope it will begin again, as it always does. Jungkook, as he holds you against his chest, is the last thing on your mind when you drift asleep.

You suspect he’s going to take up a permanent residence in there, no matter how much you try to avoid it.

The next morning, you wake up before Jungkook. After dreaming of him all night, you’re absolutely terrified by the prospect of being there when he wakes up.

There was no fear that he would stir with your movements about his room as you collect all of your things. He slept like a rock and you’re pretty sure that not even a tornado, hurricane, or any other apocalypse-causing natural disaster could wake him up in the morning.

You sneak out of his bedroom wearing his massive t-shirt and a pair of boxers he had lent you before you fell asleep last night. The door clicks shut and of course, Yoongi’s bedroom door across the hall is wide open as you’re leaving.

The shit-eating grin on his face is enough to convey his amusement at the situation before him. He raised his hands to his forehead and salutes you, prompting your middle finger to raise and give him a salute of your own.

You don’t give him enough time to make a comment to you about the clothes before scurrying to the stairs. You sit on the top steps and hastily slide on your boots. Thankfully you chose the chunky Doc knockoffs in lieu of the heels you were originally planning. You were already obviously doing the walk of shame, at least you had decent shoes to do it in to keep a sliver of your dignity.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you note the state of the party room on your way to the front door. It looks like a booze-filled bomb had gone off; there were red solo cups covering the floor and the smell of alcohol hit you squarely in the face. You quicken your pace because if you stay any longer, you could see yourself getting violently ill.

The sun nearly burns your eyes out of your head when you open the door. You have to take a second to adjust to the light before you can move down the front steps. The cul-de-sac where all the frat houses resided was in a similar state to what you saw inside. Finals week was over and everybody took the opportunity to celebrate it.

Your phone starts vibrating in the small clutch in your hand when you reach the sidewalk. The name on the screen pulls a groan from your throat, you were too hungover to be berated right now.

“You’re lucky I have your location, otherwise I would kill your stupid ass for leaving me to wonder where you went last night,” Jimin’s smirk was evident through the phone.

“Should I really have to tell you when we’re in Jungkook’s fraternity where I’m going to end up when the night ends?” You quip back at him and he giggles at you.

“When are you coming home? Last I checked you were still there.” You hear shuffling on his end of the line and you suspect that he’s just now getting out of bed himself.

You pull your phone away from your face quickly and realize it’s almost noon. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was that late. I’m walking back now, I’ll be home in a minute.” You don’t wait for his response before hanging up.

It was moments like this that you were glad your apartment was only a street over from the fraternity village. When you and Jimin had scouted out your place, it was solely for the price and quality that you chose it. Your proximity to your campus’s party central was an added bonus.

It’s comical the way Jimin stands on the balcony with his sunglasses on and his hip popped to the side. You can’t help but stop at the door to your building and laugh at him.

“I thought shackers were supposed to be out by 11?” He asks cheekily.

“Oh please, when you find some poor girl to share your time with, I go whole weekends without seeing you!”

His jaw drops in feigned offense, but he says nothing. He breaks the character with a chuckle and reenters your apartment, you do the same. When you reach the second story, your hand doesn’t even make it to the doorknob before your roommate pulls it open. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you through the door.

“You can shower when you tell me what happened last night. We weren’t even there for an hour before you disappeared.” He spins you by your shoulders to sit you on the couch.

To anybody on the outside, Jimin and your relationship was odd, but you made it work. Two years ago, you and he had met at a party, shamelessly flirted, kissed, and immediately recoiled. Kissing Jimin felt wrong, and he shared your sentiment in that regard. From then on though, you and he had been thick as thieves, attached at the hip, and any other expression that conveyed best-friendship. You two told each other everything, including anecdotes about your sex life, which is usually the point at which any outsider to your relationship got uncomfortable with your candidness.

“What can I say, Jimin, I went there for one purpose and I very quickly got exactly what I wanted.” You giggle, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You’re hoping he didn’t catch it.

Of course, though, the boy above you knew you like the back of his hand. Nothing you could do or say at this point would stop the quizzical look in his eyes. “Spill, Y/N.”

You dropped your head and rubbed the back of your neck before you dramatically threw yourself into the back of the couch. “I think I’m starting to like him,” you admit, with as little emotion as you can muster. You don’t know why, but the urge to cry right now is strong. You toss the feelings back into the deep abyss that is your subconscious before they can take over.

“Woah, hey!” He drops onto the couch beside you with concern in his eyes. “It’s time to run. We don’t do feelings for people in this house, were young, out-of-control college kids remember. We don’t have time for that.”

“I know, Jimin, but he’s so addicting. Like one minute he is drilling me into the mattress and the next he’s kissing my cheek and telling me how pretty I am. It makes my brain go to mush!”

“Damn, he’s good.”

“Jimin,” you warn. The look in your eyes tells him to watch his words carefully.

“Alright, in all seriousness, you know what kind of guy he is. I’m honestly surprised that you’ve slept with him for this long. I don’t remember the last time you’ve kept a guy around for longer than a couple of weeks.”

It was true. It sounded worse than it was, you would go through bursts of “uncontrollable horniness” as Jimin called it. You could go months without having sex, but then you would find a guy to sleep with for a couple of weeks until you got bored or he tried to cuff you, then you would cut it off and move into another dry spell. It was unconventional sure, but it worked for you. Jimin only had so much room to make fun of you for it, he was a certified man-whore.

“I don’t know, dude. I know I should stop because I can feel myself getting attached to him, but I just… I don’t want to.” You groan at your situation. Why did you have to pick the most perfect human on the planet as your booty call?

“Which is exactly why you need to stop. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, babe, but I doubt he shares yours.” You only nod at his statement and stare blankly at the ceiling.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before he pats your thigh and stands up. “C’mon smelly, go take a shower, you smell like dick,” Jimin grins at you and reaches out his hand to drag you off the couch.

You half-heartedly laugh at him and take his hand. He pushes you toward your bathroom before going back to the kitchen to make the two of you something to eat.

The person staring back at you in the mirror looks like she’s been hit by a train. There’s mascara smeared under your eyes and your hair closely resembles a bird’s nest. While you’re rubbing the makeup from your eyes with a wipe, your phone vibrates on the counter next to you.

*12:13 pm*

Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

Speak of the devil and he doth appear.

You ignore the text and strip before hopping into the shower. Silently, you hope that the scalding water will burn last night from your memory.

“Damn, was your shower long enough? I thought I was going to have to send a rescue party in there,” Jimin teases as you step out of your bathroom.

“The only way to kill the diseases you pick up in a frat house is to burn them off your skin.”

You slide into the stool at your kitchen counter as Jimin sets a mug of your favorite tea and waffles in front of you. You thank him with a smile and he only smiles back before going back to his own nearly finished plate of food.

“Do you want to talk about it some more?” Jimin asks you, and for a second you consider playing dumb as to the subject he’s referring to, but you know it won’t work.

“I honestly don’t know. Ask me later?”

He nods and grabs your hand from across the counter, sending you a wink. “You got it.”

It’s when you’re bingeing a new show with Jimin later that evening that you remember you never bothered to answer Jungkook. Your phone on the coffee table was now pulling your attention completely away from the murder docu-series on the TV. Jimin is engrossed with the show and pays very little attention when you grab the device from the table.

When you unlock your screen, the little number icon hovering next to your messages alerts you to how much you’ve neglected your phone today. You open the app and scroll through, reading the various messages left for you by friends and family. Thankfully, all were unimportant, usually, just funny pictures or links that they thought you would find amusing.

You’re giggling at a message from your mom about your dog back home when you back out of the conversation and notice the only unread message was the one you had been avoiding since the early afternoon.

(12:13 pm) Gukkie: Hey, when did you leave? Sorry I slept through it haha

You debate just ignoring it altogether and just dealing with it the next time you saw him. That would be soon enough, considering that summer break was here and you knew that he wouldn’t be going home as most college students do. You decide against that. At the very least you want to keep him on your good side, you had never ignored him for this long. While your text conversations weren’t the most thrilling, the small bit of connection was enough to keep the two of you on the same page. At each other’s beck and call, that was.

(10:41 pm) You: i left around noon! i didn’t want to wake you up. i’ll bring your clothes back soon

You locked your screen after sending the message and returned your attention to the screen. That was indifferent enough, right?

Not even thirty seconds after you sent the message, the device vibrates on the couch next to you and you’re embarrassed at how quickly you scramble to pick it up. You look across the couch at your roommate, and he’s staring right back at you.

“Did he text you?” He asks, almost nonchalantly, but you pick up on a little bit of something in his voice. Disapproval, maybe?

For any of his faults, Jimin more than makes up for it in the way he cares about you like a sister. It’s almost as if he can sense that you’re probably going to get hurt by a stupid frat boy.

“Uh, yeah. But I’m just asking him when he’s free so I can drop his clothes off. That’s all,” you quickly reply and you silently applaud yourself for the steadiness of your voice. He has a look in his eyes that says he wants to say more on the subject, but he doesn’t. Instead, he chooses to only nod and return his attention back to the screen. He grabs onto your calves the are slung across him in a silent gesture: I’m here for you, always.

(10:42 pm) Gukkie: Don’t worry about it! I’m sure I’ll see you soon ;)

(10:43 pm) You: something tells me you’re right about that

(10:43 pm) Gukkie: Maybe you could swing by tomorrow, sometime? I’ll be at the house all day so you can drop the clothes off

Right, as if you would only drop off his clothes and leave.

(10:44 pm) You: sure, i’ll talk to you tomorrow !

(10:44 pm) Gukkie: Sleep tight, princess :)

You don’t sleep.

You’re pacing back and forth with Jungkook’s clothes in your hand, debating whether or not to ding dong ditch and leave them on his porch. Last night, what very little sleep you did get was plagued by dreams of the curly-haired frat boy down the road. The feelings you felt for him are surprisingly strong, considering you just realized you really did like him. Maybe they had been building up for a while and when you allowed yourself to accept them, they hit you harder.

Regardless of why they were so pervasive was lost on you, but there was no denying their presence. You could feel anxious hies rising up your neck at the thought of facing Jungkook.

On one hand, you’re dealing with the excitement about seeing his cute bunny smile and inevitably, his sculpted body, if this visit turned into how you suspected it would. On the other hand, you’re terrified. Every time you spend your time with Jungkook, those feelings are probably only going to grow.

This would be the last time with him, you decide before you walk out of your apartment building. You already know that there is no way you could say no to him, so if he decided that he wanted to have sex with you today, that’s exactly what was going to happen. It’s not like you don’t want to. You’d be a fool to turn down sex with him, but you fear the way it made you feel. After Saturday night, it was obvious that you felt more than the normal, post-sex happiness when you were with him.

His fraternity’s house comes into view, the parking lot nearly empty signaling that most of his brother’s had gone home for the summer. His car and Yoongi’s remained, among a few others. You roll your eyes seeing the elder’s vehicle, knowing that he was going to tease you either on your way in or out.

You hesitate a little at the front door, unsure if you should knock or just walk in. Strangely enough, in the two months you had been sleeping with Jungkook, you had never been to the house during the day.

You don’t get to think about how odd it is seeing the brick building during the day when the door opens and the boy who’s been haunting your dreams beams at you with his infuriatingly adorable smile.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly. “Here are your clothes… I washed them.” You thrust the clothes forward into his hand.

He runs his free hand through his hair and snickers. “Thanks, you didn’t have to wash them.”

“It’s no problem!” You say a little too eagerly and you’re slapping yourself for it.

“Are you going to come in or just stand there and stare at me?” He asks you with an amused look on his face.

“Shut up,” you say as you brush past him and walk into the house. You don’t bother looking back at him as you follow the path up to his bedroom, knowing he’s following you, as he always does.

You’re not sure when the rain started, but the sounds were lulling you into a peaceful afternoon slumber. Jungkook’s bedsheets were always clean, unlike most of the guys you slept with. The soft fabric against your naked body, mixed with the soft light and sounds from the weather outside, gave you a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in the last 48 hours.

Your head is turned toward the window, eyes shut. It wasn’t that you were necessarily avoiding looking at Jungkook, lately, it seemed like it was the only thing you wanted to do, but you just happened to fall in that position after the activities of the last two hours.

Jungkook is sitting on his side, resting his head on one hand as he looks out the same window. He sighs, but you have a hard time in your half-conscious state determining the meaning behind the sigh. For now, you were just content with the soft fingers he was using to draw patterns across your exposed back. You couldn’t think about much past that.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” He asks while scooting closer to you. You hum in response and turn your head to face him. He uses his hand to brush your hair away from your face, so tenderly you barely feel his fingers when they run across your cheeks. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“No, I’m awake, just resting my eyes.” You slowly open your eyes and take note of him. He has a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

A pang of something akin to hurt strikes you in the heart. You realize that he’s probably trying to kick you out. It was the middle of the day and you were overstaying your welcome.

“I’m sorry, I just realized I’m probably taking up your whole day,” you sat up quickly and bend toward the foot of the bed to grab your top.

“Wait,” he rushes out and pulls you back down to lay down and face him. “Stay with me for a little bit. At least until the rain stops?”

You look down at the bedsheets below you and pick at a ball of fuzz to distract yourself. A sad smile graces your features when you look back at him. “I don’t think I should.”

“Oh… Okay,” he looks upset at that but you don’t want to think about it too long before you sit up again and put your clothes back on. When you return to the bed to grab your phone, you notice that he’s gotten himself back into a pair of basketball shorts and is watching you as you move about his space. “At least let me drive you home?”

You nod your head in agreement and smile at him. “Thank you.”

The walk to the door and following dash to his car through the rain is silent between the two of you. Luckily, though you know he was lurking somewhere, you didn’t have to face Yoongi. It was the small victories that would take you through today.

The drive lasted less than two minutes but felt like fiver years with the awkward silence that hung around you. It was clear by your actions that this would be over after today, neither of you having to actually say the words out loud.

Jungkook pulled into the spot right in front of the door to your building. At least he wasn’t going to make you walk through the pouring rain. Hopefully, this meant that he wasn’t angry, or at the very least, his ego wasn’t bruised by your unspoken break-up, for lack of a better term.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as chipper as possible given the circumstances. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, sure… No problem.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. You noticed he does it when he’s embarrassed or feels awkward without realizing it. You were going to miss that, among many other things.

You opened the door and were about to step out into the rain when he touches your shoulder. You look at him confused. He looks confused as well, shocked at his own hand for the involuntary action.

“I-I’ll see you around?” He asks, an indiscernible look in his eyes.

“I- yeah, I’ll see you around,” you smile at him gently. He pulls his hand back like the temperature of your skin is burning his own.

You quickly jump out of the car and run up to the front of the building - to avoid as much rain as you could and to get away from the boy behind you. You don’t look back.

When you push open the door to your apartment, Jimin is sitting in the recliner and scrolling through his phone. It only takes one look at your slightly damp clothes and the tears welling up in your eyes for him to hop out of his seat and make it to you at record speed.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Jimin soothes his hand down your unruly hair as you lightly cry against his shoulder. “Did you tell him anything?”

You shake your head. What would be the point? When you and Jungkook agreed to forgo sleeping with other people and engage in a friends-with-benefits-type relationship, you both made it clear that there were to be no feelings involved. You knew he wouldn’t have changed his mind about that. The only thing to gain from sharing your feelings with him would be outright rejection, and you’d rather not deal with that.

Jimin just goes back to patting your head and rocking you lightly, not caring that your hair and clothes were getting him damp too. You don’t know what you did in a past life to be so fortunate to have him as your best friend.

You’re standing like that for quite a while before you both hear a knock at your door. You move out of the way to sit on the couch and let Jimin answer the door. The last thing you wanted the person at the door to see were your bloodshot eyes and shaggy appearance.

“Can I talk to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice startles you up off the couch. Your panicked movements draw the attention of both your roommate and the frat boy. Jimin just smiles slightly at you and moves out of the way before walking into his room. You had a feeling he would listen to the whole conversation though his door.

You walked up to the door with your head down. His breathing was ragged at as you scanned from his feet up to his eyes, you found that he was soaked. “Why are you soaked?”

“I ran here.”

“But you just drove me home?”

“Oh, I, uh, got home and forgot I was going to loan my car to one of my brother’s and then I… ran here.” He explains, but the confused look in your eye is enough to tell him that you’re not following his story whatsoever. You didn’t understand why he had to come back to your apartment, nor his urgency in doing so.

“What are you doing here?” You wish you sounded a little less sad when you said that, but you didn’t really care at this point.

“I came because I need to say something to you. I- wait have you been crying?” Jungkook steps closer to you and grabs your cheeks to look into your eyes. It takes everything in you not to melt into him and grab his hands from your cheeks.

“What did you have to tell me, Guk?” You ask him in the most even voice you can manage.

“No, Y/N answer me first, please?” Your outright rejection of his touch doesn’t stop him from running his hands up and down your arms.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice uneven as your eyes betray you and begin to well up again.

Jungkook pulls you against his body, holding you tightly against him. “Why?” He whispers the question so quietly in your ear, almost as if he raises his voice any higher you would shatter.

You take a shaky breath, deciding to just say it. “You.”

He pulls back abruptly to look you in the eyes, the confusion across his brow mixes with hurt in his eyes. “Me?”

“I like you,” you blurt out, tears slowing to a gradual drip. “But I know you don’t feel the same, so please don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, but the look is still painted across his features.

“With pity.”

“Pity? I’m just confused.” He readjusts his grip on you to bring a hand back to your cheek. You can feel your heart pounding out of your chest while he forces you to look into his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he just brings your face forward to crash his lips into your own. It’s different from the kisses you’ve shared in the past. The ones before filled with lust, this one was tender and intense.

“Y/N, I like you too. Why do you think I ran through the rain to get back here?” He puts his forehead against yours.

“You do?” You pull your forehead from his to meet his eyes.

“Obviously. I was going to tell you earlier but you seemed like you wanted to go home so badly, so I figured I screwed up.” He sighed, a small smile of relief on his face.

“You should’ve said it earlier then, dummy!” You playfully smacked his chest and sniffled.

“I wish I would’ve, then I wouldn’t have had to see you cry.” The hand on your cheek slips behind your head and pulls you forward so he could plant a kiss on your forehead. When he loosens his grip, you pull back to look at him.

“Would you like to come inside?” You motion behind you. Jungkook answers by kissing you back into your apartment.

He breaks apart from you once the door is shut and looks at you with a cocky grin on his face. “Wait until I rub it in Yoongi’s face that you’re my girlfriend. He said you would never say yes.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” You ask while grinning up at him. There was a lot that had to be addressed in that statement, but you decided to let it slide for a later conversation.

“Uh, yeah… Is that okay?” He looks a little insecure, realizing what that he said without asking you if you wanted that.

You just giggle at him and kiss him again. You nod into the kiss, that was growing much more heated by the second.

“And that's my cue! I’m leaving,” Jimin escapes from his room and runs out the door before either of you can blink. You both laugh at your best friend's antics.

“I’ll steal you some dry clothes from his room,” you say as you turn to walk into Jimin’s room.

Jungkook quickly grabs you from behind and kisses the spot below your ear. “Who says I need clothes?”

You turn your head to look at him and consider glaring for a second. The blinding bunny smile pointed in your direction squashes any of your ideas about reprimanding him. He kisses your cheek and runs into your bedroom, stripping off his clothes along the way. You giggle at his behavior.

“Baby! I’m naked and I’m in your bed - a little disappointed that you aren’t!”

Again, who were you to say no?

a/n: im not even sure if anybody is really active on this blog anymore, but i got bored and decided to write this! it is unedited, i dont really mind though :) this is for the people that sent me messages saying that they would want to see this once it was finished. i did write it under the influence initially (as stated previously, i am of legal age!!), so it required quite a bit of editing! sorry for the delay!

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #college!jungkook #college!bts

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bakatenshii · 4 years

Text

Rapture

Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

word count: 2.8k

TW: 18+, smut, incest, dub/noncon, mild somnophilia

A/N: I started writing this in my notes bcos I wanted to get out a cheeky Oikawa drabble for his birthday, didn’t wanna commit to a proper fic bcos fuck knows I’ve been writing my first ever fic for over a month. Technically this is my first official fic I finished! So much love for my wife @blahkugo for listening to me sob and whine about this & beta-ing it, also to @lookslikeleese who created this brainchild of Tooru-nii with me.

rap·ture

/ˈrapCHər/

a feeling of intense pleasure or joy.

(according to some millerian teaching) the transporting of believers to heaven at the Second Coming of Christ

Blood is thicker than water, in all forms and shapes and sizes. The guilt of blood lays thicker, sweaty and clammy, threatening to matte his perfectly coiffed hair. The guilt lies limp on his childhood bed, delicate legs dangling just a hair away from toeing the carpet.

You couldn’t reach when you were younger, he’d always help you down with all the gentleness of a protective mother and its cub. Long slender fingers tucking under your armpits to lift you from his stiff mattress to stand you on the soft carpeting.

Guilt, in the form of his baby sister laying vulnerability-up, presenting to him in taunt, as if it’s a gift from Satan himself. You won’t know, will never know, It promises. You’re out cold, too many cups of trashy house-party drinks in, your night was bound to end up like this one way or another— exposed and defenseless in a man’s bed. You should be lucky it’s your own big brother’s.

He curses himself for still having been awake when you called him at half four in the morning, curses himself for staying up studying tapes of his opposing team. Bad habits die hard. You were loopy, slurring your words, and all he could hear were the warm familiar sound of ‘niichan, niichan’ tinkling through the static. He had the keys clanking in his hands before he even registered the other voices across the line; deep, low, predatory— of men.

The drive there felt like a blur, tunnel visioning only on the number plate you’d sloppily sent him three times, each varying in one digit. It wasn’t even the right address, it didn’t match your location on his phone.

He saw crowds, loud bass reverberating through to his sleek car that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the sea of beat-up sedans and trucks. He saw limbs, too many limbs, entangling together in a frenzy of sweat and lust; limbs on curves and humps of silhouettes, limbs on your small frame leaning into the corner of the dimly lit room. Then he saw red.

He couldn’t hear the shouts and hollers of his name, crazed fangirls pawing at him for an autograph, a picture, any type of affection from The Oikawa Tooru himself, international volleyball superstar with too many sponsorships under his belt. He reached out an arm towards you, and you clung to him like a magnetic pull, whole body suctioning onto his and tittering out a string of ‘niichan came to pick me up’ and a fit of giggles.

His first conscious breath was taken once he got you in his car. He didn’t want to look at you, didn’t want to assess the damages lest he drove his car straight into the dastardly party if he saw any hint of protrusion. He didn’t; you were fine. You seemed fine, too. You were all-too happy to see him, bragged to him ‘I bet them that you would come pick me up if I called you.’

You told him you missed him, ‘missed niichan so much, he never even bothered to call when he came back to Japan’. Tooru sighed, half part relief, half part guilt. He told you he couldn’t bring you back to his hotel, had to bring you home, because imagine the scandal if he got papped.

It was a lie, he couldn’t give a damn if he got papped, he could easily have explained that it was his own sister; he couldn’t give himself up to the safety of his own enclosed room. His room with no security net of Mum and Dad threatening to barge in, his room where he was free to do whatever he wanted.

He drove you home.

You begged him to pick you up and carry you upstairs, because your feet hurt, they’re so sore from dancing all night. He complied, using all his decade-molded muscles to pull you into his chest and his heart sank to his gut at the realization that you weighed like nothing to him; just like you had when you were younger.

You were bigger now, grown, an adult, but he had grown all the same. It was like a cruel joke— no matter how much you grew, he’d parallel your growth so he would always be just that much stronger than you, that much bigger. The perfect size to protect you. The perfect size to hurt you.

He was directed to his own room rather than yours, with the excuse that yours was too close to the master bedroom, too risky to wake your parents up. His feet moved before his mind could stop him, muscle memory bringing him to the space he’s barely stepped foot in since he was eighteen.

It was too familiar, whole body transcending back to his childhood, back to the innocence of your relationship before he’s tainted it with his twisted perversions. His arms laid you down on his bed, hands finding the straps of your heels to pick off before you thumped back onto his bed, sprawled out and fast asleep.

He’s been staring at your vulnerable placid silhouette splayed on his bed for what feels like minutes, hours. He can’t bring himself to tuck you in, can’t trust his limbs to function how he instructs them to. His skin crawls at the gust of wind kissing the sweat embalming his body, but he doesn’t let himself strip off the suffocating layers. He wants to bask in the physical manifestation of his disgust, nausea, let it remind him of his twisted perversions he can never, ever indulge in.

You shiver, and he jumps. Your tiny body is quivering in chills, begging him to warm it up. He moves with the grace and caution of a robber on the prowl for an expensive jewel, gently snaking his arms under the crook of your knee and top of your spine, lifting you up and away from him like he’s terrified— disgusted, by you.

He lifts the covers and daintily drapes it over the small rise and fall of your chest, pinching the top with only two fingers. A deep breath, a moan, a soft ‘niichan’, and he thinks his heart has stopped completely.

He’s frozen, the hammering in his chest arguing that no, he’s still very much alive, and spares a glance down at you. Your eyelids are fluttering, lips softly pouting, and unmistakably still asleep. He’s mid sigh of relief when he feels a small hand wrap around his arm, and for the second time that night he thinks he’s died.

All the gravity weighing him down disappears as he lets himself be tugged down onto the bed, the weight of his body crushing your tiny one, but he can’t bring himself to move. He’s too scared, he’s horrified.

He can feel two dainty arms loop around his neck and cage his head into the side of your face. He can feel the palpitations in his chest, heart hammering straight into yours, tangling with your soft cadenced beats, reaching in and provoking it to waltz to the same fatal rhythm. He can feel his trousers strain and his blood run cold.

Deep breaths to the count of the tick and tocking of the clock on the wall. He feels blurry, vision blotchy, skin prickling with every flood of blood traveling south. He wills it to stop, begs for it to spare him, he’ll behave, he’ll never let his mind wonder to you ever again, he promises.

God is all merciful, but God has long given up on him. Satan wants to watch his world burn, collapse, and dance in the ashes of his crumbling dignity. It teases him with the hilt of your soft body moving to press into his, crawling into his arms caging you in, willfully entering the den holding a ravenous lion fighting its own fangs.

Your eyes flutter open, gaze finding his with striking precision, and smile. It’s the same smile you’ve given him his whole life, the trust and love carved into every quirk of the lip. It shatters his dignity, stomps on it with childish fervor, and Tooru chokes on the breath coming out.

He feels you nuzzling closer, can feel your hair tickling his chin, and prays for forgiveness to any God willing to listen. None do— he’s too far gone. His hand’s reaching to cradle the back of your head as he plants the softest kiss on your cheek with all the practiced grace of a man begging for salvation.

Your eyes stare straight into his with undeterred conviction, glazed over with equal parts alcoholic daze and pure, unadulterated adoration. There’s not enough oxygen traveling to his brain to justify his actions, no amount of repentance would excuse his sins. His lips press into yours, so gently it feels like a mere ghost of breath, quivering in prayers for forgiveness.

A shift; small warm body squirming under his arms, shuffling closer. It catches the tent between his legs, and his whole body twitches like it’s been stung. He barely chokes down the whimper that threatens to come out.

He can feel your hands locking behind his hair, pulling your body infinitely closer to his, smushing your soft tits into his hard chest as he feels the breath sucked out of him by the Devil himself. There’s no more feigned chastity, all abstinence launched aside as he feels a little tongue prod at his lips. They open to let yours in, sucking on it as if it’ll bring his very breath back.

He doesn’t let himself wonder if it’s okay, he knows it’s not; it’s wrong, so wrong, on so many levels. He’s given up trying to please a Holy deity, Satan can take him whole if it means he can ravish in his sick twisted fantasies. He slots a leg between yours, letting the two pairs tangle and waltz to the symphony of your matching heartbeats, finally synching in a virulent tempo.

Breaths turn to pants, turn to unmistakable moans, and Tooru has to pull back to clamp a hand over your mouth in warning. The imagery of his long slender fingers covering more than half your face sends jolts down his body at the same time he realizes it’s him whining out so desperately.

He looks back at your face, beady, glassy, needy eyes peering back at him in sheer devotion, and he shuts his eyes in pure agony as his heart clenches in pangs of guilt, while his adulterous cock twitches in revelation. The warm soft breaths fan his palm, lips puckering underneath to peck softly at his fingers in hopes of escape; he thinks he might cum untouched.

His hand yanks back in shock, in horror, in disgust. But your hands clasped firmly behind hair pulls him back in, and he whispers out a prayer before a soft, “We can’t.” His eyes bore into yours, begging for mercy, begging you to let him go so he can suffer for his sins.

You don’t respond, not immediately. He feels his face pulled into yours and a distinct moisture building up on his thigh wedged between your much smaller legs. Wet— the suction on his tongue, the grinding on his leg, everything’s wet, and damp, and he thinks his mind might be drowning.

He can hear whines, pitched in desperation, and he’s certain they’re from you this time. His arm moves to grip at your hips, cupping your supple mound to shift it up the sheets and press your cunny against his straining erection. His hips buck on instinct, grazing the drooling slit covered only by a thin piece of cotton.

His mind goes blank, vision patching, and it’s too fast, too much, “please, Tooru-nii”— he’s crying. There’s tears stinging the corners of his eyes while he chokes out a string of ‘no, no, no’. He can’t slow the erratic humps against his lil sister’s cunt, the fingers digging into your hips marking you with patches of blooming purple and green, ‘I love you, niichan’.

It’s a knee-jerk reaction; he yanks his body back, takes sharp inhales of breath, until he can open his eyes to look at you again. Panic and nausea coat his tongue where it once tasted like you, but he’s met with the same look of pure adoration you gave him before he tainted your body with sin.

He realizes your hands are still straining to reach the back of his neck where they were before he wrenched his body away. They’re laying gently on his shoulders, twirling lazily at the strands of his hair curling around the base. Tears are flowing down his cheeks, or maybe it’s one single continuous tear, and his body is wracked with guilty desperation.

There’s no malice in your expression, no accusatory anger, and most of all, no disgust. Your face is painted with bliss, and joy, and love— Tooru snaps.

He’s pushing your shoulders back until they meet his singular pillow, and crawls down to nest in the space between your thighs. Large palms hook under your knees and push back until they touch your shoulders, and he moans when he sees your arms reach out to hook them in place obediently.

He wants to cherish this moment, burn the image into his brain for years to come, however many he’s spared, but his loins burn with years of yearning. He grants himself one glance at your tiny frame spread open for him, revels in the sheer devotion in your eyes, and plunges his face into the drenched cotton covering your core.

You moan out his name in a wanton reaction as he inhales your sweet toxins like he’s trying to drown— he is, he has no reason to live past this moment he sins, no right to live as he indulges in his sick perversions.

He can feel each shake and tremor of your thighs above his head as he sucks and licks at the soaked cotton, rendered nothing but an useless scrap now. Each suck is paired with a deep whine, echoing through his now-barren room. With one swift move he pulls off your panties and let it dangle between your ankles hanging above your bodies. Slick lines drip from the wet rag, stretching to connect back to your drooling pussy.

Five seconds— that’s how long he allows himself to marvel at your leaking slit, lips pink and puckered around the clenching hole. His cockhead drenches through his pants, so painfully hard a soft breath could send him tumbling over.

But he doesn’t allow himself to touch it, it’s not about him; it’s about you. Your devotion, mercy— your sheer, unadulterated, unwavering love for him. It’s about you; you deserve the best, you deserve it all, you deserve someone that’s not him.

He licks up, tongue flat, and slowly follows the dip between your folds until he suctions onto your swollen bud. His lips give it a soft peck, before wrapping around it and enclosing it in the hot heat of his mouth.

He has half a mind to snake his hand up to clamp over your mouth, stop the loud moans and sobs from coming out, but each wail shoots jolts of arousal straight to his leaking dick; he can’t bring himself to shut it down, despite how good you look with his long fingers wrapped around your face.

With every long lap, he pulls more cries out of you, and by the time he prods his tongue into your needy hole, you’re clenching down on him, sucking back on the muscle. You’re close, he can feel it. His tongue fucks into you without any of the mercy you’ve graced him, hips rutting into the bedsheet in tangent to your growing squeals.

The palpitations hammering in his heart synchronizes with the pulse of your cunt, weaving into a fatal rondo before everything stops; his hips, your cries, the air closes in on your writhing bodies as he paints his pants in shame and sin.

He allows his peripherals to roam your body; thighs indented with tiny crescents by your dainty fingers, mouth agape with your cute pink tongue lolling out— he swallows down his guilt, letting it scorch his insides before coating his cock threatening to twitch back to life.

He watches your hands drop down from their determined grip, thumping lightly as they hit his bed. He gingerly folds your legs back onto the flat surface before dipping down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. He can feel your arms shake in attempt to reach out and cuddle him in, but give out to fatigue.

Your eyes flutter closed, lips molding back to that soft smile ever-present in his presence, and he thinks he hears a faint whisper of, ‘I love you, Tooru-nii.’

Placid, limp, he watches as your body loses energy and drains into the mattress below. It slaps him in the face, presents him with a trophy, a golden star stamped with a big fat ‘Sin’ calligraphed on. His world collapses around him, buries him in the debris of his crumbled dignity, and the Devil dances.

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hwrryscherry · 4 years

Text

The one where model Y/N is attacked in Paris.

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N are in Paris for Fashion Week 2020 earlier this year. To celebrate her first time walking for Gucci, Harry decides to take her out for a dinner date when a crazy youtube prankster attacks her while leaving the restaurant and Harry get furious as standing up to defend his girl.

word count: 3.5K

warning: rude and disrespectful attitude, invasion of personal space, violence, anxiety attack quote. DON’T read it if you feel uncomfortable.

author’s note: HIII, I know this took me a while. I was working on it when I got a cold and just couldn’t think of anything to finish writing this, but I’m much better now for god’s sake. I’d like to apologize with whoever requested this for taking such a long time to post it and say a huge thank you or requesting this too! This is completely inspired by what happened to Gigi Hadid in 2016(I guess) and I remember seeing this video and thinking why someone would do that, also, Gigi said once that the guy was lucky Zayn wasn’t with her sooooo I guess I just think Harry would be so furious because even though he’s a very chill guy, his girl safety and well being is the one thing that matters the most to him.

gigi’s video for the ones who didn’t see it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjsPmjqmcvs

February 27th, 2020

Today was the first time that you ever walked for Gucci, and it was amazing, you were beyond happy because getting where you are today being a short model and only being 22 years old it's something to be proud of. It hasn't been easy all the time but you were slowly making your way to the top and that's more than enough. And you were highly grateful for Harry either, of course you walked Gucci's show because of your talent and hard working and no one doubted that, but Harry did a important role in your newest contract with Gucci because you met the team because of him and his Gucci obsession. But anyway, the fashion show was amazing, and you had Harry on the crowd cheering for you all the time and God, he was so proud! He couldn’t even handle himself. He was recording everything and even got up when you did the catwalk next to him as he kept taking multiple pictures. If you have to be real, almost 90% of those pictures looked really bad because he wasn't focusing on the phone but he also wanted to register this moment and when you'd look through them later you'd actually laugh because most of them had a very blur image.

When the fashion show ended, he had to congratulate you backstage. As you were starting to take off your outfit, you listened to your boyfriend's rough voice making you turn around to face him and see the biggest smile on his face, you could clearly see his dimples on the side of his cheek. He walked over to you instantly wrapping his strong arms around your figure hugging you so tight that you were even afraid that he would get the feat of ruining the rest of clothes you still had on.

— You were so great, I'm so pround of you! — Harry said on a low tone next to your ear before breaking the hug and looking carefully to your face. You had this crazy green eyeshadow that were halfway gone by now which caused him to chuckle — I love your eye look, it looks fabulous! — Harry said making you bend over to stare at the mirror behind you only realizing now you haven't finished taking off your makeup yet. You stand straight again giving him a mocking expression as you grabbed the makeup wipe you were using from the makeup table behind both of you.

— I know, I'm thinking about wearing this everywhere because it's just really fashion! — you ironically said taking a smirk out of him as you turned around sitting on the chair in front of the mirror so you could have a sight of how you're makeup were doing — But thank you, you know I appreciate it!

— I do! And that's why I'll congratulate you by taking you out for dinner tonight! — Harry said walking towards you resting his hands on both of your shoulders squeezing them gently as he bends over giving you a small kiss on your neck.

— Oh, like a dinner date? — You'd ask with a smirk on as you felt goosebumps on your kiss with his little kiss.

— Exactly like a dinner date! And later, we can have our own private celebration! — He'd say with a smirk on his lips as you finished taking your makeup off — What d' you think? Sounds good? — He asked you and you nodded at him and just some minutes later you both were out stage going back to your hotel in Paris. Harry called Jeff and asked him if he could make a reservation for both of you for tonight around 8 pm and he glady did, so as it was already 6 pm and as you both were probably the one couple in the world who takes the longest to get ready, you'd come back to the hotel and started getting ready already.

Jeff made an appointment for both of you to go to Le Cinq restaurant which is located near the Eiffel Tower and Arc of Triumph. You absolutely loved Paris at night, for some reason it seemed more magical and interesting to you. The weather, the lights, the fashion and the language that you learned to master well through the years warmed your heart whenever you’d go there. When you were a child, you got used to always hearing your mom tells you:’’whenever you’re in love, go to Paris’’, and for this reason Paris was one of the first places where you and Harry traveled together as couple. Harry didn’t use to travel a lot for by the way. MOst of the time, he used to travel for work, so this changed a lot since you started dating because you love to travel. You’ve always been a free spirit person, the kind of person that goes wherever the winds takes you so with the time Harry became like this too as you started taking him to do the craziest things on the craziest places around the world.

You felt the car slower it’s velocity as it got closer to the front of the restaurant, and you both could see by the window that the front was packed. As it was Paris Fashion Week, there were a lot of celebrities in the city and usually, fans settled in front of popular places around the city hoping they’d have a chance to meet their favorite celebs and even though you were already used to crowds at this point of your life, they’d still make you a little nervous, especially when it was in places not well known to you like a city you don’t live on.

— You’ll have to guide me because these shoes are really high and I don't want to step on anyone's feet — You said to Harry while putting your phone in the small black Prada bag you carried with you with your head down looking carefully to it because you’ve lost the count of how many times you thought you had put the phone inside your bag and you didn’t.

— It's alright! Hold my hand because there are a lot of people here! — Said Harry bringing his left hand up to your face to put a lock of hair of yours that fell in your face behind your ear and you nodded to him. Harry was really protective over you, and he has been that way since the beginning of your relationship. He’d always put your safety first anytime you’d go out together. When it was his about his concerts, you’d usually discuss about the fact that you want to be in the audience and he wants you to be backstage. It’d taken you a few minutes to convince him that everything was going to be fine, but it would also have days that it didn’t matter how much time you try to convince him he’d beg you to stay backstage so he could be relaxed during the performance. But you were grateful for him being that way, you were grateful that he cared so much about your well being because you know exactly how much some relationships can be destructive and you felt lucky to have someone this good in your life. Of course he wasn’t perfect, neither of you were but who is? He tried his best and that’s what matters the most.

But anyway, Harry held your hand tightly and opened the car door, immediately feeling the camera’s flashes burning your faces and listening to some fans starting to shout. Harry’s bodyguards got between both of you and the crowd guiding your way to the entrance of the restaurant and you felt the heat from the crowd instantly even though the weather in Paris was only 59°F, it’d feel lot warmer until you entered the place. And that is one special kind of a place, The decoration was perfectly splendid, gorgeous and marvelous if you must say. The touches of gold and light blue mixed with the yellow coloration of lights and the spectacular french food scent brought a cozy and elegant vibe.The restaurant was a little full, nothing out of the common and you observed the many different sizes of tables and the groups of people in it.

You both were taken to your table that was located next to the windows but wasn’t actually on the windows at it still had people outside and it feels weird to eat with people watching you. Anyway, Harry as the gentleman he is pulled the chair for you as he always did even though you had told him there’s no need for that. You both ordered glasses of your favorite white wine, neither of you were heavy drinkers but as it was a celebration it was much needed. The date happened naturally, just as all the laughing, talking and even gossips. This the casual couple gossip that you two would have, but it happened naturally. None of you ever felt like you had to pretend to be anybody else except yourself around each other.

During the night, Harry would get lost in your face admiring your features while you’re talking. He would admire the way your eyebrows move when you’d change expressions, the way your eyes would form a very tiny line when you tried to see something that was away from you, he’d admire your smile and the sound of your laugh anytime you’d remember of something funny or he’d tell you something funny and he’d think of how lucky he is to have you, because even though he knows that sometimes he can be a pain in the ass(just as you can too) , you’re very lucky to have one another and to have someone who would make you feel this great and free about who you are. Because who you are is exactly who you need to be. Of course both of you believes that changing and envolving it’s the most important thing to do and sometimes you’d be surprised to see how much you both grew from the beginning of your relationship until today and that would bring smile to your faces. He feels lucky to be able to call you his girl, and god you loved when he’d do it. You loved when he was about to present you to someone and say ‘’This is my girl Y/N’’, it’d cause you to open a big smile because it felt natural. You’re his and he’s yours, period.

When you both decided it was time to call it a night Harry paid the check against what you wanted because you wanted to pay this time. You’d honestly hate to have people paying for you, and this would usually be a point of discussion between you and Harry. You don't know why but you hate it, and it's just the gentleman in Harry wanting to spoil his girl again and again until he get tired of doing it, but he never does.

You were about to leave the restaurant when Harry slid his right hand around your waist bringing you closer to him very calmly to kiss your cheek.

— I know you want to say hi to everyone but just walk to the car, alright? — He'd lowly talk next to your ear making you look at him with a serious expression — It's for your safety, love! It's late now, and we don't know who's there. — And he was right, it was past midnight now and there were still some people out there. How can they stand there in this cold weather? But anyway, you agreed with him as you both walked your way to outside. You felt flashes again, blinding flashing lights making you look to the ground as Harry held his hand on the back of your back guiding you to the car.

As you walked towards the car, you felt a small hand touch your arm and you looked over to see a little girl with probably 12 or 13 years. She pursued tired eyes, and your heart ached with just the thought of keeping walking back to the car because you had no idea of how much time she’s been outside waiting for you so you stopped walking and bend down a little to get close to her height which made Harry stops walking immediately looking a little surprised but he understood when he saw you taking a picture with the little girl and how your face lightens up after it. You asked her what was her name and her age and she answered that her name was Lily and she was 13 she told you that she wants to be a model just like you when she grows older and that melted your heart. You smiled at her and told her that she could do whatever she wanted to and told her that when she grows up and becomes a model, you’d love to walk a show with her. When you’d stand up again you saw Harry looking at you with a small smile on his lips. He couldn’t deny he loves your kindness to every person in the world. It made his heart happy to know that he’s with someone with the same life philosophy than him. So he turned around to open the car door for you when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist lifting you up and you froze.

— What the fu... — You'd shout before starting to hit him on his arms with your elbows as you'd move your legs trying to kick him with your heels. You'd feel flashes on your face and heat on your body increasing. It was the adrenaline and you were furious at this point. — Get...Off...Me — You'd shout as you'd hit his face with your elbows as well, Harry looked over to you and stormed out. He'd swear he'd never been like this in his life, he'd basically run to behind the guy's back and put his arm around his neck, Harry'd give him a punch right in the middle of his back and a slightly kick on the back of his knee to destabilise the guy which put you free by the moment he started to fall. Harry's bodyguard would hold you immediately trying to push you away from the crowd as you looked at Harry pushing the guy away from you.

— What the fuck were you doing? — Harry'd shout right into the man's face and watch as the man started to walk away from the crowd but Harry would go after him. Harry swears to god he couldn't even feel his body at the time. He was completely numb, moved by adrenaline and all he wanted to do was to beat the shit out of that man. — WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? — Harry'd shout walking after him getting no response which just made him angrier. At that time he didn't care about the cameras or whoever was watching him, he couldn't calm down when someone threated his girl safety and personal space. It didn't even need to be you. If he saw anyone threatening a woman's safety, he'd freak out in anger.

You felt the bodyguards strong hands trying to push you away from the situation because that's what Harry would want him to do. He tried walking you towards the car, but you were reluctantly screaming for Harry because he could get himself hurt if he didn't come back to the car now. The other bodyguard walked after Harry grabbing him by the arm and Harry turned over to look at him with so much anger on his look and you'd swear you never saw him like this but then he did started walking over to you again.

You finally entered the car and closed the door. You felt in panic. Basically paralyzed, you felt your anxiety attacking and your hands shaking. You could literally hear your heart beating so fast and loud that it scares you.

— Go get him! Follow him to hell. I don't care! Take him to the police office! — You'd listen to Harry talks firmly to his bodyguards as he opened the car's door and entered in it. He took a deep breath and turned his face to look at you. His heart broke at that moment. You were a mess. You couldn't even feel the tears leaving your eyes, but he did see them. He saw your hands shaking and how scared your eyes looked and at that moment all of his anger left his body — Love... — He'd sigh getting closer to you while wrapping his arms around your now-fragile figure. He could feel your entire body shaking on his arms. He caressed your hair with one of his hands as he hugged you tight to calm you down. He'd look to the driver and make a sign for him to start driving back to your hotel — Are ya okay? You're hurt? Did he hurt you? — He'd talk on a calm tone squeezing you a little on his arms. You'd lift your head up to look at him with red wet eyes shaking your head to him.

— I'm sorry! — You'd say lowly. He did tell you to walk straight to the car, and you didn't listen to him.

— It's not your fault, love! — He'd say wiping some of your tears and then carefully kissing both of cheeks — Don't worry about it, everything's gonna be fine, alright? It's okay!

You'd spent the rest of the ride in silence. A comfortable silence. You'd be laying your head on his shoulder while holding his head getting your breathing and heart back to normal and your phones would start buzzing with notifications of what happened but none of you would see it, not now.

When you got to your hotel, you'd get out of the car in the garage. You'd both walk slowly to the elevator and slowing to your room. You entered the room going directly to the king sized bed and throwing yourself in it because you felt like getting in a coma and just waking up to a time where all this drama would go away. Harry'd walk towards you and sit in bed beside you. He'd put both of his hands on your shoulders massaging them slowly.

— I'll prepare you a bath, so you can relax a little before sleeping, how's that sound? — He'd say trying to cheer you up a little bit.

— Sounds great, thank you love! — You'd turn your head to look at him with a forced smile on your lips. Harry'd bend down to kiss your hair line before leaving to the bathroom.

He'd try his best to make you feel the most comfortable to sleep tonight. He'd prepare you a bath. He'd give you a message, he'd brush your hair for you but actually, he loves to do that. He loves to brush your hair before you go to bed, it was more like a routine for you both. He loves to feel your long locks on his fingers and to feel the sweet scent of it. He'd cuddle you until you fall asleep too, he'd even be the big spoon tonight so you could sleep on his chest breathing his perfume because he hoped that'd make you have a good night of sleep.

And after you did, he'd look on the things on his phone. All the posts about you being attacked in Paris and him beating the guy who did it were just too much and he felt sorry that you'd have to see and read all of those stuff as soon as you unblock your phone. A lot of your friends texted him asking what happened and if you were ok. He'd answer the closest ones only, like his mom and Gemma, your mom, Bella and Jeff. He didn't know what you'll decide about the next fashion shows you had to walk, but he also knows that no one would blame you if you just chose to come back home in NYC.

Harry didn't sleep at that night at all, he couldn't stop looking for what happened and why it happened. The next day, it was everywhere in the media and later you'd found out that the guy was a youtuber and he was making a prank when he posted his stupid youtube vlog with "I pranked Harry Styles's girlfriend and he punched me" as a title. You'd sue him for sure. You don't like taking those kind of actions, but it was necessary, he had to understand that you cannot disrespect people like this, specially people you don't know.

After that you'd probably understand why Harry is so protective over you and Harry would actually get ten times more protective, if I had to be honest. But as the time passed by and quarantine came you both would leave it behind and move on with your life because in the end of the day you both will still have one another.

#harry styles and y/n #harry and y/n #hwrryscherry #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry x reader #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

Immortal Chapter 3

A/N- My first OC and I'm super excited for it and this story! Hope you love her ☺️

Summary- Thor learns more about his mystery love interest

Word count- 1,952k

Pairing- Thor x OC

18+ Only!

Posted: 21st June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires

Part 1. Part 2.

The last thing Aria remembered before her vision pooled with bright lights and stars, was a car heading straight towards her. She felt the impact, her body flown through the air and crashing back to the ground with a sickening thud. She expected to hear her bones fracture into pieces with the impact of the car, to see her life flash in front of her eyes as she floated through the air. The world around her paused, time going incredibly slow, the speed causing the wind to blow her hair around the curve of her jaw in slow motion. She'd expected to feel the rough tar of the road, peeling away her skin as she landed in a heap, to feel tiny fragments of gravel imbedded in her soft and malleable flesh.

When none of that came though, she wasn't overly surprised. Instead of feeling excruciating pain, she revelled in the feeling of flying, enjoying the moment while it lasted until she was pulled back to earth and ultimately, back to reality. The reality of knowing the look on people's faces as she stood unharmed after a brutal collision that should've left her for dead.

Aria kept her eyes screwed shut, willing herself to just disappear and not have to deal with the backlash. The accident drawing unwanted and dangerous attention to her, attention she'd worked so hard to avoid. I mean she'd run away from her Prince Charming just to avoid this sort of attention, it was kind of ironic really.

Aria slowly opened one of her eyes, her vision blurred and glassy, there were people around her. Lots of faces she didn't recognise, hazy shapes all merging together until her eyes settled on one familiar face. Thor.

His distinct features standing out through the obscurity of her vision. Piercing sky blue eyes shone brightly, until that was all she could see. Eyes so clear she could see straight into his soul, a soul so pure it made her eyes sting. Thor's story playing through her mind like a movie, she blinked repeatedly willing it to stop, wrinkling her eyes tightly shut again.

"Everybody move out of the way, give her space. MOVE!" Thor bellowed over Aria, the crowd dispersing at once with his all commanding tone. He crouched down beside her, giving her body the once over, gulping deeply at the feel of her curves under his touch. Shaking his head while trying to ignore the unwanted thoughts that so helplessly followed. Wondering morbidly if it would be the second and last time he would be able to feel that magnetic pull he felt when their bodies touched.

Aria's tense muscles relaxed at the feel of Thor's hands smoothing down her legs and arms, checking for broken bones he was never going to find. A gasp left her lips when he lifted her T-shirt up just above her belly button, his fingers prodding gently at the softness of her flesh. It took all she had not to giggle, as his fingers tickled against her bare midriff.

Thor continued kneeding his hands softly around her precious torso, more than sure he would find something life threatening. Knowing there was absolutely no way a Midgardian could escape a collision like that with absolutely no lasting scars. His brow furrowed with suprise at finding absolutely no broken bones. Not even one. Even more surprising he found no cuts or bruises, not even a graze.

Aria lay before him, a vision of perfectness, her dark as night hair blanketing her defined features. She bent her hour glass curves, bringing her knees up to her chest. Thor's eyes widened, drawn to the definition of her hips and the swell of her backside in the tight black jeans she wore. He reached forward to stroke the silky hair away from her face, anxious to see her flawless skin and the rosy pink flush of her cheeks.

Aria's eye's fluttered open when she felt Thor's cold fingers brush against her clammy cheek. She recognised the painful look of anguish in his expressive blue eyes, the worry set deep within them.

"I'm ok, help me up please." She stuttered, trying to raise her head from the ground, twisting her body around. Thor's arms immediately reached out, cushioning his large hand behind her head.

"I don't think that's wise, you've been flung about five metres down the street. You need medical assistance. How are you even…"

"Thor I'm fine, just dizzy. Help me stand please." Aria stopped him mid-sentence, desperate to get out of there before the ambulances arrived, not knowing how she was meant to explain how she was completely fine after being hit by a fast moving car and thrown at speed for quite a distance. The car alone should've broken bones and left her with internal bleeding and that's before she shattered onto the ground five metres down the street. She shouldn't even be alive, never mind perfectly capable of walking away unharmed.

Thor gave in and helped her to her feet, hooking his arms underneath hers and pulling her up gently. Aria's legs buckled when she stood but Thor was there to catch her and hold her steady, the bulk of him stood behind her as he waited for her to find her feet.

Shaking loose from his grasp, squirming free, she turned to bolt but not before his thick fingers wrapped around her wrist. Aria's heart sank when she realised she wasn't getting away from his restraint, not then and maybe not ever. Thor wasn't about to lose her again, not after she was nearly taken from him for good.

The crowd of people that had gathered around to witness the miracle, the deception of logic, begin whispering between themselves. Sounds of astonishment filled the air at the spectacle before them. Thor pulled Aria against his chest, wrapping his arms around her back in an embrace. The warmth of his body was comforting for her,

the familiarity of his heartbeat thrumming against her ear. The sounds around them melting away as they held each other on the sidewalk, as they became lost in each other once more they heard the faint signs of cheering.

Aria let herself smile, she let herself be happy in the moment if for only a minute before the cheering and whistling was drowned out by the sound of approaching sirens. Thor noticed the visible panic on her face as she pulled back from him, searching the streets for a place to hide.

If he knew anything after seeing that look in her eyes, that terrible look of fear in her emerald green, Doe eyes, he knew he would do absolutely anything to protect her. Thor knew it the first time he ever laid eyes on Aria, he would always do everything within his power to keep her safe.

Without a moment's hesitation he pulled Aria by the hand, taking her with him as he ran down the street. Glancing at her through his peripheral and taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her next to him, the feel of her fingers wrapped tightly around his hand as she gave her trust to him. The wind blowing through her shoulder length hair as they ran and realising that he hadn't needed to slow his pace so she could keep up. She was running at the exact same speed as him, running along side him effortlessly as they dodged the obstacles in their paths. Aria was just as agile, just as strong and with the exact same level of reflexes as Thor.

If Aria wasn't in a state of panic she would have enjoyed the feeling of running alongside Thor, to finally not have to hold back any longer. It was a big deal for her to put her trust in anybody let alone somebody she had just met but she didn't have much choice. She needed to get out of there and fast.

They turned the corner together, down a narrower street lined with trash cans and through an even smaller alley.

With no where else to go, they stopped at the end of the alleyway, a metal gate blocking their way. Closed in with no where to escape but luckily no one to escape from. Thor leant one hand against the sturdy gate, studying Aria closely. Waiting with bated breath to see whether she would need to catch her breath, instead she looked up at him bright eyed, crinkling her nose in the cutest way. Then he heard the most glorious sound he has ever heard, like sweet music to his ears.

Aria couldn't help herself, she looked up at the god of Thunder, a look of confusion etched on his chiselled face and she laughed. Not a cute little girly giggle either but a full belly laugh, holding on to her knees as she struggled to breath through it. The truth was, she hadn't felt that exhilarated in years, running away from danger usually wasn't so exciting for her but having a tall, strong, literal God by her side made her feel invincible. Cheating death also added to the thrill, to that untouchable feeling. She knew it wouldn't last long, it never does, but she would enjoy it while it lasted.

"Why are you laughing?" Thor couldn't hide the amusement in his voice from the warm feeling it gave him seeing Aria laugh.

"The look on… People's faces." She struggled to get out between laughing. Her pink cheeks turning red, her head feeling light from lack of air. "On your face." Her chest rattled as she finally started calming down.

"Yes, although it wasn't funny at the time, I can see why it would make you laugh." He leaned his body against the gate. The sound making Aria jump, goosebumps travelling up her arms as her ears pricked, the laughter dissipated.

"Relax, it's just me." He soothed, taking note of how easily she startled. Not only eyes like a doe but the behaviour too. "So you're unbreakable, you have no trouble keeping up with my speed and your stamina almost matches mine. That's without even mentioning the feeling I get when I'm near you."

The uneasy feeling came, as she knew it would. She was deluded to think she would automatically begin to trust. To forget about the way people had used and hurt her in the past. So much so that she'd built a giant wall, locked her heart up and thrown away the key. Luckily Thor had his own hammer to knock down that wall and nothing would stop him finding that key.

"So what are you saying Thor?" She didn't hide the annoyance in her voice. Resting her back against the brick wall and slumping down to the ground.

"I want to get to know you, to figure out why we're quite clearly connected in some way. I don't even know your name?"

"My name is Aria and I don't know what I am. I've spent my lifetime trying to figure it out. And I don't know, ok?" Aria sniffs.

"It's ok, I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you Aria. What about your parents?"

"I don't know my parents, they probably realised what a freak I am and sent me away."

"I can help you." Thor pushes back from the gate and slides himself down next to her. "We're similar. And you can not deny the connection we have." He nudges her with his elbow, willing her to look at him just as the sound of footfall echoed down the alley towards them. They both turned their heads at the same time, in the direction of the noise. The footsteps drawing closer.

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tamakissimp · 4 years

Text

T.A- maid dress

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: After seeing a video on social media, you get Tamaki to wear a maid dress which quickly leads to something more.

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: kissing, grinding, saying ‘good boy’, maid dress?, sub!tamaki

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 1321

𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥: see here

a/n: Tamaki in a maid dress makes my brain go brrrrrrr (also I'm a whore for him)

Peaceful moments like these are uncommon at UA. Most of the times, the students are either working through piles of homework or stressing about their futures. Due to this, you and Tamaki took an hour each night where you would just cuddle together or hang out.

So while Tamaki's body encases yours, you're scrolling through social media on your phone. Tiktok to be more specific. Tamaki watches along with droopy eyes.

"T-That's Mirio," he says softly. The video displayed on your phone is a compilation of a guy saying 'good morning y'all' a bunch of times. You smile softly as you nod, scrolling towards the next video.

It's a guy in a maid outfit. Jetblack cat ears are situated on the top of his head while a choker adorns his neck. He shakes his hips along to some cheesy music.

"Maid outfits are hot," you say suddenly before scrolling to the next video. Tamaki's body stiffens for a second. He knew about maid outfits. Every teen with internet knew about them. And he would be lying if he said he didn't want to try one on.

"Y-You think?". His voice is wobbly as his arms wrap tighter around you. You look over your shoulder at him. A dark red blush dusts over Tamaki's cheeks and ears.

"You would look hot in one," you say. Tamaki's blood runs cold, in a good way. A nervous giggle falls past his lips. Quickly, a clasps a hand over his mouth but the damage is already done.

You now turn so that you're now facing him. One of your hands reaches up to play with his hair as the other rests against his chest. "Will you were one for me?".

Tamaki quickly shakes his head. He wants to, god he does. But just the thought of the embarrassment that would come along with wearing a dress makes his mind go fuzzy.

"But you'll look so pretty in one," you say with a fake pout. How can Tamaki so no to you when you have such pretty puppy dog eyes.

He quickly buries his face into the crook of your neck to hide his ever-growing blush. He quickly nods against you. A soft smile dances on your lips as you put down your phone.

"I-I'll wear o-one.".

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

"Tama," you say softly. A whine is all you get in response. "Do you want to come out? I want to see my pretty boy.".

The soft rustling of fabric and clinging of bells sound from behind the bathroom door. "T-This is....em-embarrassing.". A soft smile tugs on your lips at his words.

"You can take it off if you want to," you say.

"No," Tamaki answers too quickly. You softly tap the pads of your fingers against the door.

It stays silent again. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed it onto Tamaki. Wearing something different than his UA uniform already gives him chills, let alone wearing a skimpy maid outfit.

All of a sudden, the bathroom door is ripped open. You take a step back out of reflex. Before you stands a red-cheeked Tamaki. His hands are desperately trying to tug the maid dress down. Your eyes rake of his body.

The puffy, black skirt is lined with white lace. The skirt reaches his midthighs, though it doesn't leave much up to the imagination. A pristine, white apron is tightly wrapped around his waist. The short sleeves and tight top perfectly show off the muscles he's worked so hard on. Indigo bunny ears are clipped into his hair.

"Tama, baby," you say. You reach a hand up to stroke his cheek. The touch startles him causing him to look straight into your eyes. Tamaki squirm under the eye-contact. "You look so cute."

The blush that used to be only dusting his cheeks now creeps up until the tips of his ears are bright pink. "I-I do?" Tamaki asks. You nod at him. You gently take his hand and drag him towards the small couch in his room. He added it after you whined that you couldn't hang in bed all day. Now you could hang out on the couch instead.

Tamaki pulls on the skirt of the dress as he sits down. You sit down next to him, bodies pressed against each other. "Tama," you start again as you now start to play with his hair.

He keeps his eyes trained on the floor as you continue to teach him. Your hand travels down to tug softly on the choker wrapped around his neck. The bell attached to it chimes causing giggles to flow past your lips.

"You're so pretty," you say as you lean in closer. Your lips hover over the shell of his ear. Lime and chamomile flow into your nose, Tamaki's signature scent. "My pretty boy.".

Tamaki whines as you press a kiss against his ear, travelling down to plant them on his neck instead. "Can you sit on my lap?" you ask. Within a flash, the boy is seated on you, straddling your thighs.

"Good boy," you say pull the collar of the maid outfit down a bit to kiss his collarbones. A high pitched moan falls of Tamaki's lips. Quickly, he bites down onto his lips to stifle and other sounds.

"You like it when I call you a good boy?" you ask. Tamaki nods as he leans down to rest his head against your shoulder. You stop your teasing and opt to run a hand through his hair instead.

"P-please," he says. You nudge him slightly, irking him to continue talking. "Please c-call me a good- a good b-boy.". You smile to yourself as you softly pull Tamaki off your shoulder.

The sight of him crumbling in your hands is one that you can look at for hours. Flushed skin, trembling thighs and wobbling lips. He is truly angelic when he's falling apart before you. You slowly lean in closer, dragging one hand over his left thigh while the other plays with his choker.

"You want me to kiss you?" you ask. Your lips are ghosting over his, breathing mingling with one another. He nods quickly yet carefully. "Use your words.".

"P-please kiss m-me," he says. A smile tugs on your lips before you close the space between you. His soft lips feel like pillows against yours. Soft whines rolls of his tongue in between the soft kiss you two share.

The hand that was previously occupied with playing with the choker now creeps around to the back of his neck. You push his head towards you slightly, forcing him into a deeper kiss.

A high moan ring through the air as Tamaki subconsciously grinds his hips against yours. The hand on his thigh quickly moves up to still his bucking hips. Tamaki whines in response.

"Did I say you could do that, baby boy?" you ask. Your lips are still dancing against his. The innocent closeness drives him wild. Tamaki quickly shakes his head in shame. "You won't to be a good boy, right? Good boys aren't so slutty.".

"I-I'm sorry. I'll be good. P-Please, just k-kiss me," he says. You nod as you press your lips against his again. Within no time, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You part your lips slightly and Tamaki eagerly pushes his tongue inside.

His shyness is long forgotten as he fists the fabric of your shirt, hips bucking in the air in an attempt to keep himself from grinding into you. Your hand moves from his hips to his back. Pushing up the fabric of his skirt to kneed and pinch at his thigh and ass.

His loud moans are stifled by your mouth. Your touch ignites his whole body. His nerves are on fire and his sensitivity is through the roof. "You're such a good boy for me," you say, earning a whimper from him.

"My good boy.".

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years

Text

Virtue & Valor [4]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist

You and your husband have the perfect life. Jobs that you love, a happy marriage, an amazing sex life… You couldn’t ask for anything more. But when something unexpected shows up on your front doorstep that completely turns your world upside down, can your relationship survive the fallout? Or will you have to let your feelings go in favor of the greater good? Letting go of the past can be difficult, especially when the future looks so bleak, but maybe you can figure out how to move forward together. You may just make it out to see the other side.

Word Count: 5814

Warnings: Canon typical violence, strong language, Hydra!Cap is kind of an asshole, this part contains smut (18+), rough sex (still consensual), foreplay of the violent variety, knife play, gun play(kind of?), blood, biting, sass dialed up to 11

“What is the status of our patients?” the disembodied voice fills the space of the lab.

“The memory data transfer has been completed in both patients. Subject Alpha-18 was quicker to respond to the package, but Alpha-19 soon followed suit,” one of the scientists speaks while looking over their computer monitor.

“Excellent. Any change to the subcortical activity?” the voice asks.

“None, yet,” a different scientist responds. “But Doctor, are you sure allowing the Avengers access to the mainframe to give the patients their memories back was a good idea? What if they try to turn on us?”

“Both patients had retreated into the safety of their subconscious. The best way to draw them out is to give them the false hope that there is an escape. The Avengers are mere insects in this world; insignificant at best and a minor annoyance at worst. We still hold all of the control. Run them both through simulation 764-1. Let’s see if there are any changes.”

“Yes, Dr. Zola,” the scientists respond.

It’s fucking cold here. God, do you hate it. Nothing but a barren, frozen wasteland. The stone walls of the facility do nothing to keep out the chill. Your lungs feel like you’re breathing in shards of ice and the cold settles deep into your bones. It’s miserable. But it’s all that you know.

Agonizing screams of pain echo throughout the compound, making many of the soldiers and agents shift uneasily on their feet as you walk past. You don’t pay them any attention and continue to make your way toward the sound. They are just finishing up with the asset as you enter the main space. He’s still strapped into the machine, but it’s beginning to power down.

“Welcome back, Captain.” An older man stands before the asset, looking down at the compliant soldier.

“Ready to serve, Secretary Pierce,” the Captain responds without emotion through panting breaths.

“We have a mission for you. Intel extraction. Agent Valor will accompany you.”

The asset’s gaze briefly flickers to you, “I work better alone, sir.”

Your eyes narrow as you glare back, and your jaw clenches to bite back a retort.

Pierce chuckles without humor. “I’m sure you can make an exception here, Captain. Please, remind me again… when you fell from the train in 1945, who saved your life?”

The asset swallows thickly before responding. “Hydra.”

“That’s correct.” The director begins to pace in front of him. “You were left in the snow to die a long, cold, lonely death. We rescued you. We took you in. We gave you everything. You owe us for that, don’t you?” He pauses his footing and looks expectantly at the asset.

“Yes, sir,” his response is automatic.

The director resumes his pacing. “You owe us your life, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We gave you a purpose. We gave your life meaning. Didn’t we?”

“Yes, sir.”

Pierce comes to a stop once more, directly in front of the asset, looking down at him with authority. “Your work has been a gift to mankind. You’ve shaped the future. We need you to do it again. Will working with Agent Valor be a problem?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” He steps back and addresses the rest of the room. “Prep him. They leave in 20 minutes.”

You’re already waiting at the back ramp of the jet as the asset walks up, decked out in his black and red uniform. He wears a helmet that covers the top half of his face but keeps that sharp jaw and those plump lips in full view. “Soldat,” you greet, pushing off the wall you’re leaning against to stand straight.

He comes to a stop in front of you and looks into your eyes with cool indifference. “It’s Captain,” he corrects. “I am in command of this mission. You will do exactly as I say, no questions asked. Am I making perfectly clear, Agent?”

You raise a single brow in defiance. “Yes, Captain.”

“Good,” he turns away and moves further into the jet, settling in place at the pilot’s seat.

You slam your fist against the red button on the wall to close up the ramp before moving toward the co-pilot’s chair. You frown at the slight hesitation you feel as you approach the chair. You’ve never been scared of flight travel, so you’re unsure where this apprehension is coming from. You try to push it aside as you take your seat and buckle in.

“This is Captain Hydra, initiating take off,” the asset’s rough voice cuts through the communication system of the jet.

You glance at him from your periphery, feeling a strange tug in the back of your mind because that name sounds so strange coming out of him.

“All clear,” the transmission comes back.

The jet begins its vertical ascent before taking off. The asset remains silent during the entire flight to your destination, leaving you to stew in your thoughts. You can’t seem to understand why the words Captain and Hydra just sound so wrong together.

“We should divide and conquer,” he finally speaks when you’re just a few minutes out. “I’ll drop you on the roof and work my own way in from the ground up.”

You blink in confusion, pulling yourself out of your thoughts. “You want to split up? Why?”

He gives you a flat look, “That sounded an awful lot like a question, Agent.”

You grit your teeth and look away, recalling his earlier order. You will do exactly as I say, no questions asked. “Apologies, Captain.”

You unclip the seat straps and stand as he pulls the jet into position over the building. He keeps the jet in stealth mode, although the cover of night also helps to keep you hidden as you press the button to lower the back ramp. You hook a descent line into your utility belt before jumping out the back of the jet and allow the line to safely lower you onto the roof of the building. Once your boots have hit the cement, you unclip the line and watch it zip up into the open back of the jet. Once the ramp is closed back up, the jet is impossible to see. All you can do now is trust that he hasn’t just straight up abandoned you.

You head for the rooftop access door. It’s locked, but that certainly isn’t enough to keep you out. Just a few seconds with a lockpick kit and you’re in. Your steps are completely silent as you walk down the stairs and onto the top floor. You press your back against the wall and peek around the corner to make sure the coast is clear.

It sure as hell is not.

You hold in a gasp and pull your head back. You close your eyes tight and lift a hand to activate the commlink in your ear. “Captain,” you whisper quietly, so as not to be detected by the agents on the other side of the wall. “Captain, do you copy?”

“What?” his annoyed response cuts through the feed.

You’re pretty sure you’ve just felt a vein pop in your forehead as annoyance surges within you. “Rooftop access is a bust, requesting immediate evac.”

“No.”

You clench your fists, wishing you could release a groan of frustration. “Sir, I don’t think you understand. The top floor is crawling with agents. I won’t be able to get through undetected.”

“It’s not a stealth mission. Make it work.”

“Sir, there’s at least thirty of them!”

He’s quiet for a short moment and you think he might be reconsidering for you. “Sounds like the odds are in your favor,” he responds before the line goes dead.

Your jaw drops, “Captain… Cap-” Your release the smallest possible groan you can, the sound vibrating through your body. You’re gonna fucking kill him.

Rolling back your shoulders and releasing a long breath, you mentally psych yourself up for the fight that’s about to breakout.

Darting out from your hiding space, you make quick work of three agents before the rest catch on to what’s happening. Your main goal is to incapacitate, not kill, but they certainly don’t make it easy on you. You dodge flying fists and return them with swift kicks and jabs of your own. You use their numbers against them, by shoving one body back into another two or three.

You manage to get through at least half of them before the remaining agents can get you pinned down. You thrash under their hold like a wild animal, but they don’t give. “Take her to interrogation,” one of the agents commands the rest.

You fight and resist the whole way, but it’s no use. You’ve been captured and now you’re trapped. You’re beginning to wonder if this was the Captain’s plan all along. Just to get you out of his hair so you’re no longer his problem. You’re relieved of your weapons before getting forced into a chair with your hands cuffed behind your back. Once the agents have made sure that you’re secure, they leave the room and lock the door behind them.

You sit there brooding in silence as you attempt to plan your escape. It’s only a few minutes that pass before the lights above you blackout. The red back up power lights begin to flash a second later. The power outage is soon followed by the door opening and a dark figure stepping into the room.

“You smug bastard. You knew there’d be a swarm of them on the top floor!” you seethe as the asset approaches you.

He rips the handcuffs apart with his bare hands, releasing you from the chair. “I needed a distraction,” he tells you casually like that’s all the answer that you require.

You stand and pin him with a glare, stepping close until your chests touch. “If Pierce finds out I was captured, he’ll kill me. You know the fucking rules!”

“Relax,” he scoffs. “They had you for all of 5 minutes and you were alone the whole time.”

Your hand darts forward, fingers curling around the grip of the gun strapped to his thigh before you yank it out of the holster. He remains completely unmoved as you raise the gun and fire. The bullet hits its intended mark; lodged into the shoulder of the agent that was about to enter the room.

“You’re welcome,” you comment, twirling the gun in your hand and slide it back into his holster.

The corner of his mouth twitches; the only hint of emotion on his otherwise blank face. “I heard them coming.”

“Sure you did.” You step around him to head for the door, finishing off the agent with a quick slam of their head into the doorframe, knocking them out. You grab your weapons from the table outside the door and stash them back in their respective places. “Did you get the intel?” you ask the asset.

He gives you a cold stare back.

“Just checking,” you snark with a shrug.

“Let’s go.”

You attempt to reign in your emotions knowing that they certainly won’t be of any use to get you out of here. The Captain takes the lead, traveling down the various halls of the facility as the lights above slowly shift between red and black. You’re both about to turn a corner when the asset stops suddenly and you crash into him. It’s literally like slamming into a wall.

Before you get a chance to go off on him, he’s turning and shoving you backward. One of his hands cup over your mouth to keep you silent. The leather from his fingerless gloves is hot against your lips. He tucks you both into a dark alcove, your back firmly pressed to the wall while he boxes you in with his muscular frame. You feel his thick thigh slipping between yours, his hips pinning you to the wall.

The flashing red lights don’t reach this small corner of space, so you can barely make out the intensity of his eyes as he looks down at you. It’s more of a feeling rather than anything visual, but it sends an unexpected and unexplainable thrill through you. You’re pretty sure he can feel the change in your breathing where his fingers are pressed just below your nose. His response is the barest shift in his stance, but it’s unmistakable when his thigh flexes, pushing forward into your spread legs and against your core.

You curse the clench you feel from your traitorous body giving in to her arousal. It takes everything in you not to fall into temptation and grind against him. You’re pretty sure that it’s not a pistol you feel pressed so intimately against you. Luckily, a distraction comes in the sound of pounding boots headed your way.

You begin to understand what the asset is doing as a group of agents runs passed without even noticing your presence. The two of you hold still until well after the sounds of the agents have faded away. Once the coast is clear, the Captain steps back, his hand slipping from your mouth. You can’t help the small dart of your tongue against your lower lip, the remnant of leather still clinging to the flesh.

“One minute before power and cameras are restored,” the asset’s voice is gruff, but not in the same manner it usually is.

You nod silently, unsure how your own voice will sound after that little episode.

The both of you manage to make it out of the facility without further incident and the asset leads you to where he’d stashed the jet. It uncloaks upon your approach and the back ramp soon lowers. You take your respective seats and the adrenaline high from the mission begins to fade once you’re airborne. You lean your head back against the chair and release a long breath. Now that the danger has passed, you feel some of that anger and frustration seeping back in. You still can’t believe that his plan had been to wave you around as bait.

“There’s a safe house not too far from this location. It’s late. We can bunk there and return to base in the morning,” he tells you, plugging in the coordinates.

You make a non-committal sound from the back of your throat.

You’re out of your seat as soon as the jet has landed, uncaring as the Captain still needs to run through the landing procedure to power down the jet. You’re out the back of the jet as soon as the ramp is down and head straight for the safe house. It’s a quaint little rural cottage out in the middle of nowhere. There’s a hidden panel in the wall which reveals a lockbox with a digital keypad on it. You type in the code to open the box which disables the alarm system and reveals the key for the front door. The asset is beginning to make his way toward the house as you open the door and step inside.

“I don’t know why you’re pouting,” he speaks upon following you inside. “The mission was a success.”

“I’m not pouting,” you glare at him over your shoulder. “And you’re a fucking asshole.”

His eyes narrow dangerously, “I know the real reason Pierce made me bring you. I don’t need a fucking baby sitter.”

You roll your eyes and huff, “You don’t know a Goddamn thing, Captain! I’m not your baby sitter. I was supposed to be your partner and instead, you thought it best to throw me to the wolves! World’s greatest soldier, my ass.”

You turn on your heel with the intention of walking away but barley make it a single step before a grip on your arm forces you to turn back around. The sharp whistle of a knife slicing through the air can be heard before your blade settles at the base of his throat. He doesn’t even flinch, keeping his grip on your other arm, his eyes blank.

“Choose your next words wisely, Captain,” you warn through gritted teeth.

His features don’t change, but the intensity behind his eyes increases as he looks deeply into yours. It feels like he can read your very soul within them. “You’re just as trapped as I am,” he finally speaks with vague realization.

“Yeah, no shit,” you respond sarcastically. “Every single person in that facility is one mistake away from a body bag.”

“Then why stay?” he questions.

“You’re kidding me, right?” you shoot him an incredulous look. “There is nowhere you can run that Hydra won’t find you. And with my damn luck, you’d be the one that they send after me. No offense, but your pretty-boy face isn’t exactly the last thing I want to see before I die.”

His eyes flash with an indescribable emotion before he leans forward into your knife. The blade is sharp enough that it begins to pierce the sensitive flesh of his neck. You pull it back immediately, looking up at him curiously. His large, calloused fingers glide over yours to pull the blade from your hands. He tosses it carelessly to the side, not even watching as it imbeds itself into the wall.

Your eyes dart down to the flash of red that’s beginning to bead up just below his Adam’s apple. One drop is able to build enough mass that it begins to glide down the column of his throat. You’re not entirely sure what possesses you to do it, but before the drop can reach the collar of his suit, you dart forward and catch it on your tongue.

His blood sends a burst of flavor across your taste buds. It’s not the normal metallic tang of sanguine blood. His is almost sweet. It’s electric. You follow the droplet’s trail back to its source and lap over the shallow cut. Your tongue is hot and wet against his skin. You only get one more taste before his accelerated healing closes the minor wound.

When you pull back, you’re not expecting the heated look in his eyes. With just a few quick steps, he has you pinned against the wall for the second time tonight. This time, though, you don’t quite mind it as much. “I don’t think you understand what exactly you’re about to unleash here,” his words come with an edge of danger that excites you.

Your lips curl at the corners and you’re sure that your pupils are blown wide. “Care to enlighten me, Captain?”

His jaw ticks as his eyes flicker between yours. “I don’t do long and slow.”

The tilt of your mouth turns into a full-on smirk. “Well, I don’t submit easily.” You duck under his arm and slide out from where he has you pinned to the wall.

He turns quickly to give chase, only to come face to face with the barrel of a gun. His muscles tense as he pauses. He looks down, noting the empty holster on his thigh before meeting your gaze once again. “You’ve sure got a thing for pulling guns out of holsters that don’t belong to you.”

Your smirk turns into a teasing grin. You slide your thumb across the latch to release the magazine from the pistol. You toss the loaded mag in one direction and check the chamber of the gun before tossing it in another. “That’s not the only weapon I plan on unholstering. But you’ve got to earn it first. Think you can handle that, Captain?”

He shifts on his feet and squares his shoulders. His hands come up slowly to unclip the chin strap of his helmet. Once it’s loose, he hooks his thumbs under the front edge just above his cheekbones before he lifts the helmet up and off his face. He tosses it carelessly to the side, still holding your gaze. His short blonde locks stick up in every direction and the corner of his mouth tilts deviously. “On va voir.”

He makes the first move, jolting forward to try to grab you. You dance just out of his reach with a twinkling laugh. The game of cat and mouse has begun. You kick your leg up when he tries to move in again. He catches your foot and pins your ankle against his side. He continues to keep your leg trapped with one hand while the other slips into the top of your boot to pull out the small knife you keep there. It clatters to the floor and slides across the polished wood until it hits the far wall. He then unties the laces of your boot next. When you feel the tension give against the front of your calf, a swift yank back on your leg is enough to free you from his grasp, leaving only an empty boot in his hands. He tosses that to the floor as well.

Taking a few steps back, you pull off your second boot, so the weight difference won’t throw you off. Both of your socks go next to prevent slipping on the hardwood flooring. The two of you surge forth at the same time, meeting in the center of the room in a flurry of movement. It’s a spontaneous and sporadic sparring session that’s been fuel-injected with carnal sensuality. Every single jab, punch, or kick is swiftly followed by a weapon dropping to the floor. Guns, knives, and grenades are efficiently stripped and carelessly tossed aside. Your utility belts and his shoulder harness are also removed with striking precision.

You hit him across the cheek with your elbow, stunning him temporarily to then hoist yourself across the length of his torso and up onto his shoulders. His eyes flash like a bolt of lightning as he looks up at you, his cheeks framed on either side by your thighs. “Comfortable?” you ask with a teasing grin.

“I’m sure this is something I could get used to.” His hands settle on your lower back. “Though I think we would both be enjoying ourselves better if you had taken your pants off first.”

Your grin turns into a smirk. You lock your ankles around the back of his neck before letting your torso fall back and swing to the side. The momentum of your movement causes the Captain to tip forward and twist until he’s crashing to the floor on his back. In the middle of the move, you uncross your ankles and disconnect from him to land on your feet like a cat.

He makes a nearly imperceptible sound upon impact with the floor and then releases a short grunt when you drop onto his chest. His jaw ticks as he looks up at you once again. “I let you do that,” he responds gruffly.

You hum in amusement, “I’m sure you did.” You sit back on your bent knees and run your hands down the front of his uniform. The thick material and armored plating prevent you from getting a good feel at what lies beneath, but you know it’s certainly a body worth protecting. You shake your head slowly and release a soft tsk as your fingers brush against the red stitching at the center of his chest. “God, this logo is fucking hideous. You would think they’d eventually grow the balls to change it after all these years.”

He chuckles darkly. “You could try sending an email to marketing.”

You keep your gaze locked with his as you reach for one of his hands. You lift it up and unlatch the strap at his wrist to loosen his fingerless glove. Your fingers brush against the tips of his before you’re peeling the leather away. You toss it over your shoulder, tearing your gaze from his to watch your fingers glide over the lines on his palm. Your head tilts slightly as you lean down. Your tongue makes another appearance, licking up the length of his index finger. You nip teasingly at the pad before the tip disappears entirely inside your mouth. Your tongue strokes against the sensitive skin. The asset swears he can feel that same sensation where his cock is still confined inside his tactical pants.

His breathing changes as you slip a second finger into the hot cavern of your mouth. You suck on his digits like a fucking pro. He can even feel the vibration of your moans through your tongue. You’d think he had dipped his fingers into a pot of honey with the way your tongue glides over every single inch of them. Your grip on his wrist tightens as you pull his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop.

It only takes him half a second to roll you both to the side until you’re the one flat on your back. The arousal burning through him lights a fire in his eyes as he looks down at you with a feral look. Lifting his other hand to his face, he uses his teeth to unlatch and pull off the leather material. Bare hands grip the top of your thighs, keeping them spread wide as he ruts his hips into yours.

Your back arches and your eyes fall shut at the barest hint of friction against your clit. The Captain sits up and makes quick work of the top half of his uniform. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as your eyes feast upon the newly bared plains of finely corded muscle. He’s certainly a sight to look at. With a body that appears to have been hand-carved out of marble and eyes as intense as a hurricane, it’s enough to make just about anyone want to drop their panties.

You reach for the zipper on the front of your uniform and drag it down your torso. His eyes zero in on the movement, pupils widening with every inch of your revealed skin. Your thighs clench around his hips and your abs tighten as you sit up until your chest is nearly brushing his. You shrug out of your suit, allowing it to fall off your shoulders and down to your hips. You wear a simple black sports bra underneath.

The Captain watches you with a hooded gaze. “Are you finally ready to submit?”

You push your chest forward, molding your body against his. Your hands settle upon his broad shoulders, gliding over the thick muscles toward his neck. One hand stops right at the dip where his neck meets his shoulder, but the other continues its course up the side of his neck and sinks into the hair at his nape. Your nails scratch at his scalp, causing an unmistakable shiver to run through him. His eyes are drawn to your mouth as you lean in closer. Your nose has just barely brushed against his when your hand tightens into a fist in his hair and you yank his head to the side. “Not quite,” you finally respond to his question.

His breath hisses through his teeth at the sharp jolt of pain against his sensitive scalp, but that soon turns into a loud curse when your teeth sink into the exposed flesh of his neck. “Fuck!” The sting of your bite shoots straight to his cock. It twitches and strains against the confining material of his pants, begging to plunge into the sanctuary of your wet heat. “Did that taste of my blood turn you into a fucking vampire?” he asks with a grimace as you retract your teeth from his skin.

Your tongue laps at the fresh mark. You didn’t even break the skin. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave anything behind that can’t be healed by the time we make it back to base.” You meet his darkened gaze with a sultry smirk.

The air between you two is positively electric. It crackles and sparks like a livewire. It’s hot and intense, and at the same time seems to charge you up until every single molecule that makes up your entire being is vibrating with energy.

With the next heartbeat, you’re flat on your back once more. His mouth is everywhere, nipping at your neck, your shoulders, and your chest. You hear the distinct sound of tearing fabric before the binding feel of your sports bra disappears entirely. You are far too aroused to care. Large hands come up to mold and squeeze your breasts while his lips and teeth mark up your skin.

You’re absolutely shameless in the way your hips rock and grind against his erection. You can feel your arousal soaking into your underwear where the thick ridge of his cock presses against you. Your body is thrumming with pent up sexual need. You are quickly becoming desperate for any sort of friction on your aching core.

Your nails rake down his back, leaving behind angry red streaks across pale skin. Again, the pain surges through his neurons and sends another jolt to his cock. Drops of precum have begun to collect on the front of his boxer briefs. He pushes himself back up, ignoring your whine of protest when his hands leave your breasts. He drags them down your chest and passed the curve of your waist. They then sink beneath the top edge of where your uniform clings to your hips. In one fell swoop, your uniform and panties are stripped from your legs and tossed to the side.

“Hands and knees. Ass up,” the Captain orders in a gruff tone.

You are quick to comply, willing and ready to submit to him. You roll onto your stomach before bringing in your knees and lifting your ass into the air. The hardwood beneath you isn’t exactly comfortable and you know your knees will be bruised by the end of this, but it’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make. Your pussy is in complete control now and she’s willing to do just about anything to get her fill on some thick Super Soldier cock.

You resist the urge to look back at him to see what he’s doing. It doesn’t take long before you hear the sound of shuffling clothing as the Captain shoves his tactical pants and boxers halfway down his thighs. If he were trying to go for a little more intimacy, he might’ve taken the time to completely remove the last few pieces of his uniform, but the slick scent of your arousal has hit him like a slap to the face and it is entirely too easy to give in to carnal instinct and take you now.

He spits into his palm and gives himself a few lengthy strokes. The sound is absolutely filthy and conjures all sorts of images in your mind. You arch your back and spread your knees a little wider as you feel him move in close. You don’t care if it makes you seem needy and desperate, because honestly, that’s exactly what you are.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his head lined up with your entrance. That’s the only warning you get before a quick snap of his hips pushes his entire length into you. The impact of his thrust feels like the recoil of a firearm. It's harsh and fast but also sends a thrill up your spine.

He fucks you without mercy like he’s lost complete control over himself. The thwack of his balls fills your ears as they slap against your clit. His hands grip your waist, keeping you in place as your body is left unable to do anything but accept his punishing pace. You’re pretty sure this should hurt, the way he takes you like an animal in heat, but it doesn’t.

Your cunt is so fucking wet with arousal, that you begin to hear a squelch with every thrust. If you weren’t in the middle of having your brains fucked out of you, you might have been a little embarrassed. The asset takes this as a sign to up the pace even more.

One of his hands slides away from your hip and down over your stomach. He hooks his arm around your torso and hoists your body up until your back is pressed to his chest. His unrelenting thrusts never cease. In fact, it appears that he’s able to hit you even deeper from this new position.

“Look at you,” his breath fans across the side of your neck when he speaks directly into your ear. “Such a good, submissive little Agent, taking your Captain’s cock so well.”

The pitiful whimper that escapes your throat would piss you off if you were in your right mind. He angles his hips just right to hit you in that one spot that makes your mind go blank.

“Are you gonna cum for me, Agent?” he asks with a nip of his teeth against your ear.

“Yes, Captain,” you respond through panting breaths.

“Good girl,” he praises in a deep tone that makes your body shiver. “Touch your clit,” he orders next, feeling his impending release starting to build up.

His arms tighten around you, keeping your body pinned to his as your hand slips between your thighs. You gather some of the excess slick right where your bodies are joined onto your fingertips before dragging them over your aching bundle. You flick and swirl over the small bud, vocalizing your pleasure with stunted gasps and tiny mewls.

The Captain releases soft grunts and heavy breaths directly into your ear. They’re the type of sounds that would make you weak in the knees if you were standing. They’re deep and guttural, pouring out of him like secrets slipping out from the cracks of a broken soul.

Your hand reaches up and back, fingers finding their way back into his messy hair. Your touch is gentle this time as you guide his face closer. Your lips brush against his in a slow caress. His pace falters briefly. In the next second, one of his hands has come up to cradle the back of your neck and he resumes his savage pace, kissing you just as fiercely.

He steals your breath and swallows your moans, taking you with a ferocity you’ve never known before. He claims your body as his own and brings you to heights you didn’t know you could reach. Your moans grow higher in pitch and come with greater frequency as the pleasure builds in your body.

Just a few more quick thrusts and one last flick of your finger, then suddenly your vision whites out. You barely feel the strength of his arms tightening around you before you lose all physical sensation.

In the next moment, you’re bolting up in bed, drenched in sweat with the sheets clinging to your damp body. You’re panting for breath like you’ve just run a marathon, and lift a shaking hand to your forehead. “What the fuck was that…?” you ask to the empty room.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain hydra x reader #brain washed!steve x reader #smut is consensual tho

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thexgrayxlady · 3 years

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Notes: This is a purely self-indulgent and very lighthearted AU and if I’m the only one who is enjoying themselves with it, that’s all that really matters. TBCH I’m not sure where I’m going with it and I know this isn’t very good or perfectly in character, but I’m having a good time and it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything, so I’m okay with it if I’m just writing a messy little crash into hello.

The Universe Won’t Wait for You

Outside the ruined temple, dark clouds gathered and howling winds carried the metallic tang of summer storms. Heady incense drifted from inside, where the flicker of braziers cast statues of forgotten gods in stark chiaroscuro. Yet, under the wind and crackle of flames, the air hung still and silent, charged with the promise of lightning.

The jungle crept up around the ancient stones. Gnarled vines threatened to drag the crumbling archway back into its depths. Fragments of cracked and chipping mosaics peered through the leaves, their tiles scattered across the floor with the trees’ detritus.

The roof had long since caved in and the once gilt friezes lining the main hall were now washed almost smooth. The faceless figures posed in the uncanny silence, leading the way to the sanctuary.

At the altar, a group of very annoyed people stood over the unconscious leader of a dragon cult and his scattered cards, having narrowly averted the end of the world for the third time in as many months. The timing was inconvenient for everybody involved and it was universally agreed upon that it would have been better if these assholes had waited until next weekend to try and destroy the world.

“So if we beat the megalomaniac of the week, why isn’t the portal going away?” Tea asked, vaguely gesturing to the swirling silvery distortion above the altar.

“I keep telling you nerds it’s not a portal.” Although against his will and his better judgement, the geek squad had grown on Seto Kaiba like E. coli on room temperature meat, he would still sooner saw off his own hands with a rusty spoon than admit it.

“We could always leave it alone,” Bakura said, disdainfully looking over one of the cultist’s discarded scrolls before rerolling it. “His Latin was terrible. It probably won’t do anything.”

“It won’t do anything because it’s a not a portal.” Their group would have it found it infinitely more worrying if he didn’t insist that the latest near apocalypse had a logical explanation. As of late, he’d settled on saying that anything he couldn’t immediately explain wasn’t magic, just science they didn’t understand yet. Everyone might have appreciated this a bit more if not for how often they had to deal with the fallout of his attempts to understand the science. “Watch.”

He picked up one of the scattered cards (rare, but only good for niche dragon decks and he would notadmit that he would have found this clown’s cards useful) and tossed it towards the floating mass. It passed through without incident and collided with the back wall.

“Wheeler could make something more convincing.” He rolled his eyes. This entire escapade had been a nuisance. He still wasn’t sure how he’d been talked into it. The others certainly hadn’t just mentioned that they needed a ride.

“Yeah, these guys tried to take our dragons cards and dragged us out here to show us some crappy holograms,” Joey replied.

“You would believe a bunch of delusional lunatics.”

Yugi paused checking on the cult leader and decided to head this off before it became serious.

“Guys, stop fighting!” he said, his voice quiet and gentle, yet brokering very little argument. When he realized that Kaiba was gearing up for an argument, he added, “You’re wasting time and the sooner we figure this thing out, the sooner we can leave.”

“Whatever,” he said, turning dramatically, letting his coat flare behind him. “I’m going to figure out what’s going on because some of us have jobs to get back to.”

“You’re self-employed!” the blond shot after him.

While he examined a pile of rubble on the far wall for a projector or an off switch, the others looked over the altar and scrolls. He was just about to shift some stones out of the way when lightning split the sky.

The portal flared and spun wildly. Roaring thunder followed close behind and a glowing thing shot from the portal before it collapsed upon itself as if it had never existed.

“Kaiba look out!” Yugi shouted. “That thing’s headed straight for…”

“It’s a hologram,” he shouted back, gesturing dismissively at the thing barreling towards him without actually looking at it. “It’s not like it can hurt…”

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, his ears ringing, and struggling for a full breath.

When he regained enough sense to figure out what was going on around him, he realized that his arms were wrapped around something warm and solid. The thing thrummed under his hands, like working on an ungrounded circuit. He came around to a curtain of white and a pair of horribly familiar blue eyes.

The woman shot back, her fingers splayed across his chest, her face contorting in stunned confusion. She started to speak, her voice raspy and quiet, stumbling over words in a language he didn’t understand. Yet even without knowing the words, he got the sentiment.

“What. The. Fuck.”

This couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be real. He must have cracked his head when he hit the ground. She had to be a hallucination or a hologram or…he didn’t know, he couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out what specific kind of nonsense was going on.

Somewhere off in the distance, the nerds said something, but it was like listening under water. And as much as he wanted to shout at them to shut up so he could focus, the words stuck in his throat.

He knew her. From that trip to Egypt. Her name was…

No. No.

This wasn’t happening. The world didn’t work this way. People did not just fall out of holes in the sky. He’d been dragged kicking and screaming into accepting that maybe the supernatural bullshit that followed him around possibly had some merit, but thiswas a step too far.

None of this made any sense. Kis…She was impossible. You couldn’t just fling someone through space and time with badly mangled Latin. It took energy. It took machinery. Complex math, things that went beep, big red buttons that gave the nerds heart attacks when he pushed them.

(But these idiots were trying to summon a dragon, weren’t they?)

This violated so many different laws of physics. There must be another explanation. He just had to keep calm and think of it. His heart hammered against his chest. Every time he almost had a grasp on this, he caught her eyes, and any theory beyond rote denial slipped away.

She couldn’t be real. He’d barely thought of her since that trip. Whatever, whoever, she was, it was the past. It didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. He had to focus on figuring out how the hell some loser cultists managed time travel with some incense and dead lizards, no if they managed time travel some incense and dead lizards, when, despite his disregard for the laws of men and gods, even he was still mostly beholden to thermodynamics.

They probably hadn’t. There had to be something in the incense.

Still, the logical part of his brain told him that even his best holograms didn’t feel this real and there was no logical way they knew what she looked like. Her heartbeat fluttered under his hands. She smelled like prison grime and ozone and petrichor.

So a hallucination then. But everyone else kept talking. He still couldn’t really hear them, but maybe they could see her too. Or that was just another facet of his concussed delusion. But if this was a hallucination, then why couldn’t he understand her? He’d never hallucinated in a language he didn’t understand before.

Not a hologram. Not a hallucination. Where did that leave him? Flat on his back on a cold stone floor with a dead woman straddling his waist and the growing certainty that he would never live this down.

Again, she leaned in, her head tilted to the side. Time slowed as she brought a hand to his face and his heart beat too steady to be truly calm as she studied him. She was so small. He could easily throw her off and get away, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even look away as the world shrank down to just the two of them.

She didn’t look quite the same as in the memory. She didn’t seem half so fragile. Her long, pale hair was tangled and her face prematurely lined. Her dress was more a collection of mismatched patches than an actual garment. Bruises and scars bloomed along her arms and collarbone amid patches of thick, almost scaly looking skin.

He wondered if the memory, vision, whatever it was, was accurate. How much of what he knew about her was true? How much had been made up by someone who’d never met her to fit her role in the game? Did it even matter? He was his own person, why should he care about her just because of a supposed connection to the Blue Eyes White Dragon?

Yet despite everything going on, she seemed alert and curious, determined to figure out what exactly just happened, whereas he had to remind himself to keep breathing.

Just before her rough, calloused fingers brushed his jaw, a jolt of static leapt between them. She reeled back, her pupils snapping into narrow slits. Thin, cracking lips curled back over sharp teeth in an inhuman hiss. Her shoulders flexed and he half expected wings to unfurl from her back.

Then she must have caught sight of the others because she shrank back, trembling. A horrible charge built under his hands. He willed himself move just enough to let go.

She scrambled away, breathing in sharp, hissing gasps. Upon reaching the far wall, she shot up a crumbling pillar and crouched as far back on the bottom ledge of a frieze as she could manage and stared down in horror as the first few drops of rain fell through the broken ceiling.

He stared back, the concussed or drugged or shocked daze lifting just enough to drag himself to a sitting position.

She was impossible. But her eyes were electric bright and she’d felt like a damn live wire in his hands. He hadn’t figured out the physics behind this yet, but he understood one thing.

Kisara was very real.

#Gray writes stuff #Kisara #Blueshipping #seto kaiba #AU: this might as well happen #I know this isn't that good but it's been so long since i've finished anything IDGAF #I'm effectively posting a warm up piece but i'm kind of alright with it #also kaiba is exactly what im looking for in a cosmic chewtoy

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shiberpostshere · 4 years

Text

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

38. Chapter Thirty Two: No, It’s Ryan Reynolds!✨

Previous Part✨ Next Part ✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 6.7K (Buckle up, its time for a ride)

This Chapter Contains: Giggle worthy chaos and tooth decaying fluff. (An Annoyed San too.)

It’s a regular Sunday. A quiet regular Sunday. An unusually quiet, regular Sunday that you don’t experience often as a college student.

An unusually quiet regular Sunday except for Yeri and Jongho’s loud, harmonious snores that vibrated through the lazy (almost) evening silence of the apartment while you had sneaked out like a thief bound with tinkling shackles out of the front door.

It was exactly five minutes before 5 O’clock and you knew what noise pollution would commence once the short hand stopped perfectly atop the number five.

The neighbour above starts angrily vacuuming to release their pent up frustration of the day or maybe to act as a thoughtful warning alarm to wake the other residents who might be napping above the universal napping time limit and the snarky middle aged lady beside, who begins banging pots and rattling spoons to prepare either her dinner or for a secret time travel battle she has to attend every single night to save the history for the sake of the present.

You have a generous set for neighbours.

Thankfully, you aren’t currently present in your apartment to experience the brutal murder of your ears.

Unfortunately, you’re sandwiched in between San and Wooyoung in the shared wide back seats of the bus, stuffed to the absolute brim with sweaty and jumpy people.

The serenity of the weekend ended when you willingly decided to step onto the Bus No. 7 for the following reasons:

Number One, You and Wooyoung don’t drive and San owns a motorcycle that cannot carry three people at once, not without getting an overloaded vehicle ticket by pulling a stunt like that,

Number two, you have nothing better to do on a Sunday evening other than watch Yeri and Jongho scream about the WIFI and college website because they couldn’t select the classes they wanted fast enough,

Number three, you were unable to escape from Wooyoung’s persistence but you had to get out and inhale some fresh air of the outside.

It is a secret that you had isolated yourself in the sweet ol’ bedroom (in the name of preparing for a workshop), to take a five minutes rest which gradually progressed into knotting up your bones by rolling on the bed 24/7 and temporarily disrupting the serotonin production while watching sad movies, and

Number four, San cashed out a favour from that one time he fetched a folder from your dorm and drove fifteen minutes to deliver it because your degree was on the line. Which is why, this particular evening you need to help him out with whatever he wants to do at this Garden plus Research Centre for Thesis purposes.

“The Thesis and Freebies Date”, term coined by Jung Wooyoung, free entertainment, food finder and a plus one, on Sunday 17th of May, 5:30 AM on the dot.

On top of all these reasons sat Seonghwa’s last text message like a cherry on top of a cupcake of complaints.

He sent you a picture of his americano that was loaded with ten pumps of syrup, “I’m drinking coffee😇”

What coffeeee????!!?!?!?

Everything has failed you today. The public transportation system, your emotional support boy and your unhealthy obsessive complex believing that anything above two pumps of syrup is not coffee because you cannot handle personal preferences.

“Why on earth is this bus full like it’s the last bus available to escape a fucking zombie aopcalypse. What is this ‘Bus to Busan’?” Your voice comes out with pure seething under your breath for only your friends to hear but you catch the old lady beside San narrowing her eyes at you with suspicion.

San, engrossed in scrolling through his twitter and sipping his (proper) americano is least interested about your discomfort.

“Oh I don’t know! I did suggest taking the subway instead but two idiotic people whined for five minutes straight to get on this bus.” His response is monotonous, attempting to contain himself from bursting.

The pinching statement is directed towards you and Wooyoung who grumbled about the group having to walk after getting off the subway when the bus seemed like a better option that stopped right on the street opposite of your destination.

Wooyoung’s frame shifts slightly onto your small seat as the hefty man beside him wiggles for space. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only I had had an epiphany about how crowded the bus was going to be before we board it.”

If only you had epiphanies.

The bus was mildly crowded when all of you had entered but became packed within the next ten minutes of collecting passengers at merely three stations.

Poor Wooyoung is scared for his life knowing he will be ironed flat by the man if the bus jumps over a speed breaker or God forbid, decides to halt abruptly. The fear is relatable because the boy standing in front will collapse right onto your already shaky lap under any abrupt movements made by the bus.

After five minutes of distracting himself, San shoves his phone in the pocket of his jeans and leans into your space to jab a finger at two of you simultaneously. “Yeah, Jesus Christ, if only my lazy ass friends knew how to walk but they left their legs in the semester break.” He accuses.

He is absolutely right.

Every student, excluding the few exceptionally productive ones, collectively lost the ability to walk unless the end goal was acquiring food, money, grades and work experience.

Wooyoung throws his hands up out of exasperation, “And you’re hundred percent sure that the subway isn’t packed?”

You nod vigorously, supporting his argument because it doesn’t lead to admitting that you’re wrong and not once you’ll acknowledge the possibility of the missed subway having much more space than this body heat microwave of a bus that you two insisted on boarding until San gave in and agreed.

“Yeah. Also, we’re accompanying you for your work, San.” You chide in to transfer the blame like a ten year old child and nudge the grouchy boy away from the seat with your right arm.

San’s left brow twitches. He is definetly holding back a snarky retort.

“Yes, yes, it’s all my fault.” He drawls on his reponse and turns his head away to ignore your presence entirely.

Apparently, it was not an unusually quiet, regular Sunday for the residents of Unit 8181 also known as the occupants of the apartment of Seonghwa and Friends who have been on the edge due to a mysterious late night incident that was not revealed to you no matter how many times you pried.

Mingi and Yeosang were sprawled together on the couch, hidden beneath a bunch of weighty duvets which did not look like it had two people sleeping underneath it until they started untangling themselves from each other.

Wooyoung was showering, apparently for almost an hour to scrub away his drowsiness as stated by San who has been extremely cranky and constantly keeping himself occupied with his phone and swishing and fixing his posh, sky blue cardigan (until you entered the kitchen and he dragged you out with him, suddenly all smiles).

Yunho was the only one who appeared somewhat himself, still in his pajamas, folding questionably large amount of laundry. He mentioned ‘monopoly game night’ but you didn’t buy that excuse.

They were engaged in constant back and forth, ‘Who Can Shut the Other Guys Up In The Most Creative Way’ contest.

Yeosang won after a house slipper flew out of his room, wheezed past your legs and landed right near the shoe rack as you stood there frozen. The aim was commendable but the action was concerning.

Other than sarcastic remarks, all of them shared swollen eyebags due to the lack of sleep.

A sleepy Mingi glared at you with his droopy eyes for thirty seconds, mumbled out, “Oh, it’s just you.”, trudged towards his room and slammed the door behind him.

The apartment floor was spotless, not one obvious clutter in sight.

Seonghwa will surely name everything he owns to them in his will once he returns in the coming week and sees the glistening state of the apartment.

It reminds you that you, too, need to take care of that one chair that holds the tower of toppling dirty clothes in your room before he sees them and gives you an earful of nagging.

A bead of cold sweat travels down the crevice of your neck.

“How much longer until we arrive?” You committ the mistake of directing the question to the volcanic mountain prepared to erupt any minute now.

The bus jostles with a screech, collectively swinging everyone forward with a painful jerk. Shared sighs and groans echo throughout the bus.

Staying put in your seat in this bus is more challenging than a one minute plank.

“I don’t know, he probably knows.” Wooyoung responds with a shrug, holding onto his dear life.

“Maybe you should walk through this sea of people and ask the bus driver himself.” San suggests with an imposed smile, causing your own lips to stretch into a false one.

“What a fantastic suggestion! I would love to use you as a human shield to push through this crowd and get to the front.” You answer, crossing your arms below your chest.

He offers you his entire irked attention.

Wooyoung’s forehead dives into the palm of his hand. He’d rather hide than let the passengers of the bus know that he is associated with the two of you.

The agitated boy rolls his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line before he launches his lecture. “Okay, you know what (y/n)---”

“Oh for goodness sake! Young man and young woman! Resume your couple’s banter at your place, don’t fight in public places.” The old lady whose patience was being tested this entire journey voices out her protest.

You’re stunned for a good moment before your heads snap towards the lady, wearing similar offended expressions.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is holding onto his bubbling laughter. His palms having slid down from his forehead to his lips to prevent himself from laughing out loud like a maniac.

“We are not a couple!” You both answer in a hurried chorus.

After the frantic clarification, your eyes meet and the absurdity of the old lady’s comment wipes every single trace of the previous exchange.

Both of you break together into timed, soft giggles and the chain reaction pulls in Wooyoung who laughs into his hands to control the volume.

The lady shakes her head at your reaction. “Well, then, not a couple, don’t fight and let me ride to my book club meeting in peace.” She states her demand, expression indicating that she is cooking incorrect judgements about your group in her mind.

San and you offer her a quick sincere apology, suppressing the amusement derived from her assumption.

“You two in a romantic relationship? More like a disastorous pair of wannabe edgy emo and a pissed caffeinated fantasizer. Nah, totally incompatible.” Wooyoung mutters under his breath.

“He’d get rid of me in ten minutes.” You whisper your reasoning.

San feels the old lady’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head, his arm nudges yours gently, “Make that five. Okay now, zip up.” His eyes and voice both firmly plead.

“Yes sir.” You reply and shrink in your seat further to make room for Wooyoung to breathe.

They’re quite a handful duo, alright, but they’re your handful duo and they handle you as well.

After ten minutes of bumping, shoving and tossing around the entire bus like popcorns, the three of you miraculously step out in one piece.

You take a good five minutes to regain your normal pace of breathing again.

The relaxing wind carrying the gentle floral aroma from the garden calms your suffocated senses.

Ah, finally, freedom from people.

The bus was overdosed with CO2.

Your lips were zipped for most of the ride in order to avoid receiving another sneer from the old lady and making sure you don’t run out of the very last oxygen molecule present in the bus.

Wooyoung is stretching every limb of his body after being pressed in between the sandwich grill consisting of you and the giant man.

“You know what?” He pulls out a little black hair tie to control the little locks ruffling against his eyes. “Ditch me the next time I whine about not walking because that was literal hell. I am never stepping into another bus, ever again.” The determination present in his voice is almost convincing. Almost.

“You’re going to start whining when it’s time to return.” Adds San, after double checking every pocket present on his clothing.

An overwhelmingly tiring yawn falls through your lips.

“Yeah, dude, no false promises.” You inch closer towards San to show your support.

Wooyoung’s exhausted face transforms into an unamused one, “You’re shameless.”

Harsh but true.

“No, no, no, you last minute side switchers, get away from me. I am not claiming you.” Ignoring your presence, he simply walks towards the main entrance of the garden.

A sickeningly sweet smile appears on your lips. “Hey, wait, I promise, I won’t take Wooyoung’s side ever again!” You say in a singsong manner, taking wide steps to catch up by San’s side.

“Where do you think you are going?” The betrayed one gets a hold of your backpack and pulls you back with a forceful tug.

Your shoes brush harshly against the concrete pavement. He accomplishes the task of slowing you down and makes a run for San, wheezing loudly.

“Jung Wooyoung!” You cry out loud at his actions, your backpack flailing out of your arms.

He treads beside his unbothered friend, front facing you from a distance. “We need to meet the professor at the research centre anyway, keep yourself busy until then!” A wink and a cackle, then he grabs San by his shoulders and disappears inside at an astonishing speed.

Like a little kid whose ice cream has been snatched away, you stand there watching San’s waving hand and Wooyoung’s bouncy ponytail fading away.

A strong inhale and a gentle exhale, you try to calm the rapid heaving of your chest.

“Ah, whatever! They’ll text me once they’re done.” Uttering the assuring words to yourself, you fix the carelessly hanging backpack and set course to occupy yourself in the garden until they’re done with whatever they have to do at the research centre.

This is not the first time they have pulled this prank of abandoning you just for laughs and then frantically calling with the classic bait of “yo, come over at this food truck, we’re paying😏”

They throw the same bait under any circumstances and it works pure magic on any living being who lives for eating. Even Seonghwa caves in, and your willpower is -2 compared to Seonghwa’s 10+ patience.

Once you step inside the garden, you’re sure they have ditched you with good intentions as your eyes take in the lavish surroundings.

The green of nature is widespread throughout in the form of sturdy and lean trees, recently mowed grass and snipped shrubs peeking in between, all sprinkled with colourful little flowers like twinkling stars on a clear night sky. A gentle breeze whistles by within small intervals, rustling the leaves with the faintest crackling sound.

There are feeble chirps of birds, hiding in their nests to sleep for the night.

It is heaven on earth as the golden glow of the sun settles upon the scene.

The lulling fragrance of roses carried along with the wind urges you to roll on the blanket of the grass and maybe even take a nap after tiring yourself but you know you’ll be thrown out because there are watchful guards scattered around.

For once, you’re grateful that they left you behind.

You’d rather take a walk around the garden while listening to serene songs rather than awkwardly wait behind them as they converse with the said professor they’re here to meet.

I should explore a little before San gets into his Plant Geek Mode.

A major path from the main entrance splits in several small, stone tracks, like a maze to explore.

The region is vast, tranquil and maintained, no wonder a research centre lies somewhere in this arboretum.

You notice the informative display of the map, standing tall, indicating what lies in between and at the end of every track, piquing your explorer fantasy. There is a stack of small, handy maps for visitors to carry as well.

You grab one, deciding upon the center most lane with your earphones playing the enchanting tune of Like a Flowing Wind by Day6 in a low volume.

“The North Lane leads towards the green house and the research centre.” You murmur, studying the contents of the map with much concentration. “Wooyoung and San probably went that way.” You throw a quick glance behind before resuming your stroll.

The trail you’re currently walking on is the West Way, sheltered with tall towering trees and the Grand Elixir Fountain that lies at the end.

You neatly fold the brochure and tuck it safely inside your pocket, saving the next spots to visit together once you regroup.

Surprisingly, the garden doesn’t have an overflowing crowd.

There are quite a lot of people occupying the benches and seating areas, mostly couples. You notice quite a few students, assuming they are, with their laptops and notebooks, surveying or either sitting in a formation to share their findings.

Everyone is invested in themselves, in their own little world due to which the place feels quite private, snug and pleasant.

The greenery, the sounds of nature, the music and soft whispers creating one whole atmosphere of contentment.

It has been named Golden Blooms for a reason indeed. Except the Research Centre part, we’re going to ignore that for now.

Seonghwa would absolutely love this place. There is nothing not to love about this. You can sketch a million ways of spending time here together.

You don’t want to be a girlfriend like that but you’re to be a girlfriend like that.

A picnic after a long hectic week of continuous classes to unwind while spending quality time together, under a birch tree that casts a wide shadow beneath to watch the sunset while sharing the most mundane and silliest stories of your week and snacking on the collective bag you two usually pack before heading out for your Saturday Sunset Dates.

Maybe you’ll have to give up the spot due to its popular demand but it’ll be alright nonetheless. Instead, you’ll resort to taking every lane to check what lies at the end as Seonghwa’s personal playlist will be the perfect background music.

The day will end with a hearty dinner and crashing in either’s bedroom, cuddling together where he always insists on being the little spoon and you always give in.

Oh god, I went too far.

If just the thought has you feeling immensely giddy, how exhilarating would it feel to actually spend a day like that?

Back to present, (Y/N), back to present.

The uneven stone trail comes to an end as your shoes sink into the bed of the grass. Your next steps feel extremely light.

Walking on this grass is the closet one can experience how walking on a cloud feels like. You constrain yourself from removing your socks and shoes and running around on the grass like a madman--

Holy Shit.

The Grand Elixir Fountain is a masterpiece.

Rather than blindingly white, it is a comforting shade of evanesce beige. The sculptures surrounding the circumference are alluring rather than intimidating of mythical water creatures from numerous mythologies.

A water nymph settles at the heart of the fountain on a wave with water sprouting from the pot she’s embracing.

The gurgling water simmers down onto another platform shaped like a lotus, little droplets splashing on the people standing close by the edge and then gliding down from the platform into the bottom expanse to become a slow, rippling stream.

The Fountain is a high lord, you are a mere peasant. The Fountain is the moon and you’re a small star. The Fountain is queen bee and you’re a worker bee. The Fountain is a high quality gaming PC and you’re a laptop you had to buy with an acceptable graphic card because you’re a college student who is surviving.

Maybe you’re not the best with creative descriptions but it’s okay you’re a law student any way.

Creative writing is Yeosang’s forte and he worries about it plenty.

“Seonghwa can’t be here but I can send him some pictures.” Pulling out your phone, you scan the area.

An old couple are seated on a bench to the far right admiring the view, bunches of people pass by once a while either to leave or enter the area and a small group of friends are circled in a corner preoccupied within themselves.

“Okay, nothing to see here, just a college girl fangirling over a beautiful fountain.” You say it with the intent of addressing the people present but it is mostly directed towards yourself to not get embarrassed before you engage in a long photo session full of fascination over a fountain at an arboretum.

Okay, alright, let’s get this over with.

The cause of your dubiousness is Jongho.

He has pointed out several times that while taking photos you tend to get absorbed and switch into questionable positions just to score a worthy shot.

You somehow manage to capture moderate looking full shots without getting any uncanny looks from the visitors around with only one close up shot left.

The star of the fountain, the water nymph.

It’s alright. Hopefully nobody finds you getting on one knee to capture a decent picture of the fountain uncanny.

You’re just a harmless college girl who wants to text her boyfriend, excite him about your possible future dates and hunt for food while waiting for the two little devils to return and get working before it’s too late.

Gentle sprinkles splash onto your face as you move a little closer with careful steps to find the best spot. The water is enticing on this boiling day.

You hold your phone up, adjusting the angle to your liking. “Okay that’s good.”

Before you can press the capture button, a pair of hands lock around your waist, someone’s weight settling on your shoulder.

“No, shift it a little more to the right.” A voice, obscured by the earphones, speaks extremely close to your ear, sending a quivering sensation down your spine.

The first instinct is to freeze, your entire body numbs at the sudden action, heart beating at an alarming speed.

It is followed by a startling scream of having a stranger’s arms wrapped around your body. The scream pierces through the placidity of the garden, birds from the trees flying away to safety out of fright.

Finally, the adrenaline rush kicks in, your physical senses registering the situation and your reflexes activate.

The phone still connected with the earphones flies out of your hands and ears, elbows diving back to land double smacks on the intruder’s stomach to get him off your back.

The old couple look into your direction with a panicked expression and the entire group nearby jilts up and dashes towards you to investigate the source of the scream.

You turn around to inspect the trespasser who has landed flat on his butt, clutching onto his stomach as continuous groans and curses fall through his lips.

“(Y/N)! What the hell!” The obscurity long gone, you recognize the familiar voice and its owner.

Losing the energy in your legs, you fall down into a squatting position. “Seonghwa?” In a panicked state and a hesitant voice, you call his name.

“No, it’s Ryan Reynolds.” Mockingly, he whimpers, trying to regain his knocked out senses.

It is indeed your boyfriend who is currently supposed to be in Japan but is in pain because you landed two good elbow punches right on his stomach after his 4 hours of excitement at the airport and two hours of flight and it is definitely, hundred percent confirmed especially, after his eyes meet yours, full of pain and shooting imaginary daggers at you.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but two blows right on his abdomen.

“Park Seonghwa!” You exclaim.

“Nope, no, I am not Park Seonghwa anymore.” He states in a faltering tone.

“Miss, are you alright?” A boy from the far away friend circle interjects, stopping in front of you. “Is he bothering you?” His fingers wrap around your arms to pull you up.

His other two friends help Seonghwa but with a much constrained grab on his arms.

You look at your boyfriend being held by the two strangers and then at the boy, eyes performing a few puzzled double takes.

“Miss?” The boy reiterates his query.

You’re dumfounded, your thoughts hazy.

Collecting the remaining strength in your body, your hands fly in gestures of denial. “No, no, that’s my boyfriend.”

The boys appear skeptical. They exchange disbelieving glances.

“Are you sure? If he’s really bothering you, we can call the police right now.” One of the boys holding your boyfriend suggests with the intentions of your safety.

The frenzied senses simmer down second by second, your hand reaches out to free him from the strangers’ hold. “No, no. Thank you so much for your help but there has been an misunderstanding, that’s all.”

The boys release him and you replace their hold by linking his arm.

“He is really my boyfriend. I was just surprised.” You state with complete assurance.

“It’s also my fault for creeping up behind her. Thank you for watching out. We’re sorry for the disturbance.” Seonghwa takes the cue and bows down a little to offer a sincere apology.

His other hand rests atop your bound one. Your gaze stays taut on him, following his actions to apologize as well.

The boys notice your relaxed figure beside him. “Ah alright, so it was a misunderstanding.”

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, it was. We’re sorry.” You say politely.

Calculating the situation, the boys exchange final greetings before trusting your relationship and leave you two with a, ‘Be careful with your surprises!’

The surroundings stop still until Seonghwa unlinks your arms to intertwine your fingers instead and bends down to pick up your phone.

“Should we sit somewhere and talk?” He suggests in a composed tone.

“Oh, right, yes.” You answer, mentally occupied collecting the dispersed bits of your comprehension grip.

You two settle on the broad bench, previously occupied by the old couple who left after the ruckus, facing each other.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” You search for his eyes that meet yours in a span of millisecond after the raised enquiry.

Your fingers contract and expand with hesitancy near his abdomen where you, or more accurately, your reflexes stroke him a blow. Eyes fluctuate up and down, from his face to the injured area, teeth abusing the lower lip with worry.

His hands catch and close around your awkward ones, “It hurts but I am fine. It might be bruised but it’ll be gone with time.”

You look at him, face full of regret, “Seonghwa, I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, (Y/N).” He says with the most assuring look that there is in this world, “I mean it.”

You were worried that he might be mad about the commotion but him unlinking your arms in order to hold your hand was an indication enough that he wasn’t.

His anger is often intelligible. He needs the time to stay mad, cool down and talks only when he is ready. The time creates an emotional distance and that distance is unbearable until his heart is ready to resolve.

He doesn’t hold petty grudges. He certainly forgives but he doesn’t forget. Instead, he draws the line in the relationship to grow apart naturally.

You happened to experience it once when he was conversing with a senior who had given him a hard time and oh boy, the line he drew was fiery and bone chilling cold at the same time.

“So, that was definitely not what I expected after I decided to surprise you.” He confesses, his eyes mellow, “I should’ve listened to Hongjoong when he said that the idea is too sappy.”

While he speaks, you’re occupied with staring at him like a hawk with bulbous eyes.

“What happened?” He prompts you to speak, a fond smile on his lips. “Cat got your tongue?” His fingers fix the disheveled hair resting on your forehead.

His eyes hold such raw warmth while he merely tucks little strands behind your ears that you fail to realize you have tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Hey, why are you crying?” His expression shifts into a concerned one. “What happened?” He probes further.

Before you register your actions, your hand is flying to land a soft blow on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were returning today!”

Maybe the volcanic eruption that was swirling inside San somehow descended into you. The difference is, his was motivated by rage and yours might be motivated by mortification.

He retrieves his hand to hold the area you’re attacking, gaping as he rubs the sore spot.

“Why are you hitting me!” His expression is muddled.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you hitting him after he attempts to calm you down as his plan of surprise fails worse than the time he had failed history in sixth grade.

Your hand reaches out to land another gentle smack. “What are you! A freaking saint! Why didn’t you tell me!”

Even you are not aware why the outlet chosen by your feelings is hitting your loving and caring boyfriend who planned such a great surprise that you managed to ruin by knocking him straight into the abdomen with your pointy elbows.

“Wait, what--” Your words only further deepen his confusion.

The next smack or rather love tap, as per your definition, doesn’t get through as his hands are quick to catch yours by the wrists.

“Why are you hitting me babe?” He tilts his head to the side. “You’re hitting me because I am nice?” He lifts his right brow. “What, a saint?” A playful smile lingers on his lips.

The audacity of this man to act coy with you when you are full of all sorts of emotions whirling within you like a raging tornado. The audacity of this perfectly, perfect man!

With your slightly puffy eyes and tears stained cheek, you profess. “I am embarrassed okay! I am really embarrassed, I screamed so----”

A tch sound comes from him, followed by a, “Idiot.”

He pulls you into him through the hold he has on your wrists, your chest colliding with his. His arms wrap around your waist in a secure manner, head resting sideways onto the comfort of your shoulder that he dearly missed.

You melt like an ice cream on a hot day under his touch, taking no time to find content in his embrace, face nestling into his warm neck.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He removes one hand from your waist to offer comforting caresses on the back of your head. “I don’t know what I expected your reaction to be. Honestly, this particular one didn’t even cross my mind.”

You lift your head from his neck but he quickly returns it down again.

“I didn’t expect you to appear in front of me a week before your actual arrival either.” You speak in a muffled voice.

He pauses his stroking for a second, “I knew you were clueless but I didn’t know you were this clueless.”

“Excuse me!” You shuffle in his hold but he has you latched onto him.

He nestles further into your hold, almost pulling you onto his lap out of habit.

“Seonghwa!” Palms pressing against his chest, you try to scuffle away and receive a disgruntled noise from him.

Having performed his action only halfway through, your right leg sits on top of his left thigh and you leave it there to dangle idly.

“Dude, we’re in a public place.” You remind him, placing a sneaky little peck on his neck.

It’s the courage after announcing you’re an idiot to the entire world.

He is astounded by your actions but definitely not as much as you are.

Seonghwa expected a surprised embrace on his return. Anything but you mentioning that you’re in public and then proceeding to plant the softest kiss on his neck, not that he minds the latter.

“Wise words coming from you in a public place.” His thumbs trace circles on your collar bones, voice adding an extra emphasis to the ‘public’.

He squeezes you tightly and moves you in his hold like you’re his own personal teddy bear causing laughter to escape from your lips.

“Giving you a basic hug after you come back after almost a month and a half?” You declare like you have performed some high and mighty act, “No, that is not enough to express my excitement, I had to smash out my love on you, babe.”

His face dawns an unimpressed look. “Yup, I made a mistake coming home.”

Your own words cause your face to scrunch up with cringe. “Yeah, that was too much, don’t talk about this in front of anyone, ever again.”

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His long hair is intact, not a single strand has been snipped. He looks as stunning as you imagined him to be. His navy blue coat may have been washed with a different detergent than the one you are familiar with but the earthy smell of his regular perfume is present.

The only new additions on him that you can notice right away is the blinding glow on his sleep deprived face and the abstract patterned scarf wrapped neatly around his neck.

“I missed you.” You wish to say it as softly as possible but you end up blurting out the words.

He smiles with twinkles in his eyes. “I know, idiot. I missed you too.”

You rest your palms on his cheeks and press them hard, lips protruding out in a pout. Pulling him in, you offer him a brief peck.

A long one is saved for later when in private.

The heat on his cheeks is an evidence that he is taken aback by your bold actions.

“First a kiss on the neck and now a long peck?” He smirks, eyebrows dancing up and down. “You’ve become quite gutsy within a month and a half huh?”

You fawn, “and you’re still carrying your mischievous habits with you! I was praying for you to leave them behind during your vacation. Did you achieve nothing?”

“Come here you!” His hand clasps behind your neck but this time he connects his lips to the side of your forehead to plant the deepest kiss.

You shriek as the prolonged peck soon transitions into pillowy lips peppering feathery kisses on every little endearing spot he discovers to shower his love.

Unable to suppress your delight, subdued giggles bubble out of you.

The delight of having him by your side again is indescribable. The current state of happiness you’re feeling is indescribable.

You feel his hovering lips expanding into a smile, foreheads faintly clashing together as you two laugh your heart out.

There are tears forming in your eyes but this time due to happiness rather than humiliation.

Your eyes catch the sun dipping below the horizon, shooting colourful rays as it bids goodbye for the day. “Seonghwa, look, the sunset, it’s so beautiful.” You note while he pulls you into him sideways.

He hums, turning around to admire the view, “Oh wow, that’s......beautiful.”

Time slows down just for the sun to submerge into the horizon with its glory. The orange, pink, purples and blues of the sky press mute on the world for the briefest interval.

He ruffles your hair, pulling you out of a trance, “And that’s our cue to leave.”

It takes special effort to abandon his comforting hold and get back up on your two feet.

The disappointment lasts a mere second as his fingers quickly interlace with yours. “Where to next?” He asks.

He takes slow steps. You stick close by, half of your body weight leaning into him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

You consider your choices for a moment, the grin ever present on your lips, “How about we take a walk and then drive to the river side? I heard there will be star gazing event later at night.”

He looks at you impressively with a questioning smile. “Oh really, who told you that?” A gentle gleam of fondness floats in his eyes.

His heart is swelling with love, your presence is comfortable.

You channel your best know-it-all face, “Oh, you know, Wooyoung, San and I were planning to--”

The sentence stops midway as you remember, Wooyoung and San!

Your movements halt, “Wait, Wooyoung and San!”

He cracks up at your delayed realization.

“They’ll be fine.” His fingers offer a gentle flick on your forehead, attempting to tap some sense into it, “Unless, you know, you want them to continuously comment during our date about how my arrival disrupted their last night’s sleep.” He reaches out for his pocket to pull out his phone but you’re quick to prevent the said action.

“No, no, no, no.” Your reaction amuses him further. “That’s not what I meant. I am glad they ditched me, goodness, never been so glad that someone left me behind, swear to god.” The flurry of words scatter everywhere but the intended meaning has been received by him.

“And what else do you have planned for the night?” He asks, walking straight, exaggerating the breadth of his shoulders.

“My fantastic company, Seonghwa, what else do you need?” In a wounded voice, you question.

He shakes his head.

“No?”

“No.”

“Fine, tonight’s dinner is on me, no budget. What do you want to eat?” You present your best offer in the most sugar coated tone.

His jaw drops in a dramatic fashion you’ve never witnessed in your life, “That’s it? Woman, I flew in today to surprise you today and that’s it?”

You stand on your tiptoes to whisper a special spell in his ear. “Who said that would be it?”

The rasp in your voice has goosebumps rising on his skin.

“What do you mean?” He stares down, eyes wide.

“Hey, by the way, how did you know I was near the fountain?” You quickly change the subject, your thoughts running wild and heart ready to pounce out to run a hundred mile marathon.

“What do you mean?” He repeats, eager to receive an answer.

His innocent smile has been replaced by a devilish smirk.

His constant questioning and hopeful gape has you regretting your previous words, causing warmth to spread on your face.

Flustered, you recite your question for the second time, “Tell me, how did you know?”

“It was a guess. I haven’t forgotten about your pigeon feeding adventures near the mall fountain” His answer is concise, to the point and hurried. “Now, tell me, what do you mean?”

He finishes the topic within a few seconds, arm nudging persistently against the side of your stomach.

This man. Oh god, this man.

“You have a great memory! You remember everything!” The fake enthusiasm and flustered laughter that is evident in your answer has him laughing. “Oh, look, we’re here!” You announce, feeling grateful once you spot the main exit getting closer with every step.

“What did you mean?” He takes quick steps to stand in front of you, his hand leaving yours.

“Seonghwa! Stop it, don’t get back on your teasing shenanigans so quickly, give it a day.” You say as casually as possible, stepping aside to continue on your way. “I’ve embarrassed myself and you quite enough for today.”

Seonghwa slings his arm around your shoulder from behind, “Yeah, alright, we’ll see about that later.” He mimics your casual tenure. “I guess.” He adds, hinting at your suggestive statement.

You nod in agreement, appearing calm and cool, “Yeah, I guess, we will.”

“You little tease.” His free hand gives your left cheek a little squeeze, leaving a light aching.

You stumble a little on your way out of the garden, “If I am a tease that makes you the devil that you truly are.”

“I agree, I am a beast.” He really, actually, dares to say that with his whole chest, out loud.

“Yeah, sure, little baby.” Your fingers mockingly stroke his chin with a pout

He chuckles, changing his position to properly stand by your side. “Enough of that now, let’s go, I am starving.”

“Yup, let’s go, tender beast.” You imitate his own words on him.

“No, seriously, stop that.” He declares sternly.

You do a motion of zipping your lips, holding your free hand up in surrender.

Oh, how the tables have been turning constantly today. You can now understand why Seonghwa never gets off your back and it looks like you will not be getting off his tonight.

Metaphorically and literally.

Meanwhile, Woosan

San, who has been talking with the professor for almost thirty minutes now: It was pleasure meeting up with you Sir

Wooyoung, releasing a sigh of relief beside his friend because he didn’t understand a single word that was exchanged, internally: Finally

Suddenly, San: Oh btw sir I had another question

Wooyoung, ready to create a rampage right there and then, grabbing a chair to smash it on the ground: OH MY FREAKING GOD DAMNIT CHOI SAN YOU---

🌸

A/N: OH MY GOD I CAN FINALLY POST THIS, I CAN FINALLY BREATHE EASY

I started writing this last Saturday and it went through so many drafts and versions, getting cut down to this one. It took me a week mostly due to other commitments. I edited this once and I am sure it still has teeny tiny mistakes but please look past that for now. I will correct it whenever time grants me.

Also, I would really love to know what you think about this chapter! Please let me know, I would really appreciate that 🥺🥺🥺💕

I know it has been a long time since the last update but I reposted the masterlist with the final update schedule and it will update and end accordingly as per that.

(Also the woosan scene is a little exaggeration, they had a rough night, as you will see in the bonus)

🌸 Taglist:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @missiopk @preets-kpop-world @sanisms @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @jaeminbluee @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @yellow-wxve @uppiespuppy @uppiespuppy @mingiflower @multiangell @quicklystickystarlight @kunhye @nekee-lilac02 @peachyprincessminki @hidden-wildflowers @raysanshine @skzpleasestay @tearvantae

🌸 Unable to tag: @mingiibabiee @dreamie-deonghwa @9songbird19 @retrofuture-ism @aratrikade

🌸

Please do not repost, modify or claim this work as yours.

#ateez #ateez social media au #ateez fake texts #ateez text au #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #ateez au #ateez sm #ateez social au #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jung yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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masterofmunson · 4 years

Text

all i ask of you (3)

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader Broadway AU

Summary: You’re forced to work with your famous ex boyfriend on Broadway.

Word Count: 4.3k+

Warnings: language

Author’s Note: Yay a longer chapter than the two previous ones! Enjoy and tell me what you think!

You stare at Harry. You can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling. His face is void of any emotion. He climbs out of bed silently and you follow suit. You reach for his hand but he recoils from your touch.

“Harry?” you say his name softly. You’re too scared to speak. You don’t know what to say. You hadn’t expected him to be so quiet at your happy news.

He turns to face you. His eyes no longer hold the admiration and excitement they once held when you told him the news just moments earlier. Now they’re dark and cold.

“How long have you known?” Harry asks you.

��About a week. I leave at the end of summer, so we still have plenty of time together—”

“No.”

Your brows crease in confusion. You take a step back. You hadn’t expected him to be so cold and callous towards you.

“No? What do you mean no? This is my dream! Would it kill you to be happy for me, Harry?”

Harry glares at you. He crosses his arms over his chest. He rolls his eyes and laughs bitterly at you. It sends a chill down your spine.

“So you’re leaving me? Leaving us?”

You blink in disbelief. You can hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth. Where is the man you’re falling in love with? “I’m moving for a job, Harry. I figured that we could still be together since you travel for your job. We can work this out.”

He laughs again. “Are you joking? You want us to do long distance? Absolutely not. It’s me or New York. Your choice.”

You gasp in response. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks. You can’t believe he’s making you choose. Harry of all people should understand. He’s done everything in his power to be as successful as he is. He’s made sacrifices too. Why can’t you do the same? Is it because he’s famous and you’re not?

“Are you joking, Harry? Why are you doing this? I still want to be with you! You would never do this to someone like Taylor or Kendall!” you shout, throwing his ex girlfriends into the fight. If Harry can be petty so can you.

“They’re different! They’re famous and—”

“I’m not,” you interrupt bitterly with a stiff nod. “What’d you expect, Harry? That I would just wait for you and jump at the chance to go on tour with you if you asked me to? I have a career I’m chasing after and now that I have it you’re giving me an ultimatum. Do you realize how selfish and cruel you’re being?”

“Choose!” Harry shouts. His hair is wild and unruly. The eyes you love so dearly are cruel and cold.

Now it’s your turn to laugh bitterly. You shake your head and quickly gather your things off the bedroom floor. You’re rendered speechless and you run out of his bedroom.

You don’t say goodbye. You don’t need to. Harry already did that himself.

…

Something changes between you and Harry after your night at Glass House. He doesn’t intrude on your space. He doesn’t speak to you outside of rehearsals and you don’t know whether to be relieved or worried.

Frank doesn’t notice and you’re relieved. Your job is no longer on the line and you and Harry are professional towards one another. It’s the best the both of you can do considering the circumstances.

However, you’re positively glowing now that Harry is on the receiving end of Frank’s short temper. Now that you’re days away from Harry’s Broadway debut, you’re working with him on blocking. He can’t seem to get the steps right in the relatively short dance sequence he’s in or where he needs to stand and walk as he sings.

“Harry, my god, don’t act like you’re so repulsed by Y/n. Raoul and Christine are now engaged. They’re all over each other. They can’t stand to be away from each other. You need to hold her close,” Frank directs, grabbing Harry and dragging him to you.

You’re chest to chest with Harry and you can hear his hard breaths. You carefully move your hands to the base of his neck. His hands find purchase on your waist. His eyes meet yours and you nod in approval.

“Relax, Harry,” you whisper under your breath at him. “That’s the only way you’re going to get Frank off your case. It’s okay for you to touch me.”

He nods silently and you start the scene over again. You follow Harry’s lead and move swiftly and effortlessly across the stage. You cling to him like you’re supposed to and Harry’s fingers dig into your waist, briefly lifting you off the ground before setting you back down again.

Your foreheads touch and Harry twirls you sweetly, perfectly portraying Raoul. You step apart when Frank shouts behind you.

“Better. You definitely need more practice, but it’s better. Let’s work on the blocking for All I Ask of You.”

You nod and so does Harry. You walk towards Harry and he hesitantly wraps his arms around you. You rest your head against his shoulder and squeeze him tightly. His hand gently caresses your head as he sings.

You pull away and Harry brushes his finger against your cheek as you sing to him. You squeeze his hand and he holds your hands gently to his chest. You move slowly across the stage, following Harry’s lead. You pull away completely and walk to the front of the stage. You turn your head to look back at him and he walks to meet you at the front. You let him take your hands again and as the lyric approaches, you take a deep breath.

Harry’s eyes soften as he looks at you and you meet his gaze. You lean to kiss him and one of his hands holds the side of your face. The kiss seems to last an eternity. You pull away and finish the song.

You take another deep breath. You have to kiss Harry again. Your eyes are trained on his mouth and you force a smile onto your face. You’re Christine. Harry is Raoul. You’re a professional.

You lean in to kiss him again. Harry grins and holds your face tenderly. He kisses you, smiling against your mouth. Your eyes close and Harry gently lifts you off the ground, spinning the two of you across the stage before the scene ends.

Harry sets you down and you step away from him. Your skin feels hot to the touch and you feel incredibly flustered. You bury the weird feeling deep inside your chest.

You scratch at your arm and your eyes follow Frank’s. Your ears are ringing and you feel the blood drain from your face.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Frank before running off to the closest bathroom.

You practically throw the door open and you stand in front of the bathroom sink. You lean your hands on the sink and breathe heavily. Your body starts to shake and you let out a labored breath.

You turn the sink on and splash water on your face. You sigh and stare at yourself in the mirror.

“I can do this. I can do this. I can do this,” you whisper to yourself. “Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid!”

You splash more water on to your face before turning off the sink. You straighten out your back and open the door.

“Hey,” Harry mutters, pushing himself off the wall.

You stop at the doorway and look over at him.

“Are you okay?”

You nod silently. “Yeah. I think it’s the tuna salad I had for lunch,” you lie, letting the door shut behind you. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. What did Frank say?”

“He said it was a good start, but I need to relax more. He said you were perfect,” Harry answers as the two of you walk side by side back to the stage.

You nod. “It’s just me, Harry. Despite all the shit that’s happened between us, we still have to work together. I know it's been difficult for the both of us, but I think it’s best if we start over, for the sake of the show. I’ve nearly sabotaged my job because I’ve been unprofessional towards you. It’s been four years and it’s not like we were serious anyways.”

Harry stops in the middle of the hallway and you turn your head to look at him. His brows are creased as hurt crosses over his face. It makes your stomach drop.

Shit. You shouldn’t have said that out loud.

You’ve convinced yourself that what you had with Harry wasn’t serious in order to avoid acknowledging your hurt and heartbreak. Acknowledging it meant you were weak and allowed Harry control over you even though you weren’t together anymore. You lied straight through your teeth in order to convince yourself that you were completely fine after the break up, even though it destroyed you.

“You didn’t think we were serious?” Harry asks you. His eyes are cold as he looks at you. It sends a shiver down your spine. You’re instantly reminded of when you broke up.

You scratch at your arm and look away from him. You swallow hard and rock back on your heels. “We were together for five months, Harry. We were better off as friends,” you reasoned. “Maybe we wouldn’t have such a fucked up relationship if we didn’t do anything before.”

Harry takes a step away from you. You hadn’t expected such a negative reaction. It’s like you wounded him.

“I told you I loved you.”

A bitter laugh escapes you. You shake your head at him. “And then a week later you made me choose between you and my career, and I broke up with you. If you really did love me like you say you did, you would’ve never made me choose,” you snapped angrily. You resist the urge to punch in his perfect teeth.

He still doesn’t get it. Nothing’s changed in the four years you’ve been apart. You still can’t look at him without the hurt resurfacing.

His love meant nothing the moment he made you choose. His selfishness couldn’t be ignored. You’re better off now than you were before. The love you had for him disappeared the second you left his house that day. Instead, bitterness and anger took its place.

“You were my best friend before we dated and while we were dating. As my boyfriend and best friend, you should’ve supported me, but you didn’t.”

“What happened to starting over?” Harry snaps back, glaring at you. “For the sake of the show?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I forgive you, Harry,” you tell him. You sigh tiredly, pinching the spot between your eyes. “That doesn’t mean I’ll forget. I’m not afraid to tell you that you broke my heart.”

Harry noticeably flinches at your admission and you turn your back to him. You walk quickly back to the stage. Harry follows behind you and you stand beside Jane near the front of the group.

“Everything okay?” Jane whispers to you. Her eyes move from you to Harry.

You nod. “Everything’s fine, Janie. I’m okay.”

You can tell she doesn’t buy it, but she lets it go.

“To promote the show with Harry as the newest addition to the cast, I’ve arranged for a handful of you to go to popular restaurants to sing to the guests as entertainment tonight. As for Harry and Y/n, I’ve arranged something for tomorrow morning. I contacted the Today Show and they’ll be coming to interview the two of you before rehearsals start tomorrow,” Frank states excitedly. He smiles eagerly.

You momentarily forget how to breathe. Your stomach drops and Jane slips her hand into yours. She squeezes your hand in silent support. How could Frank do this so last minute? He has no idea what Harry’s fans are like. They’ll try to link you to him almost immediately. You were lucky they never caught on to your relationship when you were together.

“Did you get the okay from Harry’s precious manager?” Jane asks sarcastically. You nudge her and Harry glares at her from across the stage.

Frank ignores her question. “I want the two of you to be here no later than 6:30.”

You nod silently and Frank goes back to going over what needs to be done before the scheduled dress rehearsal two days from now.

The rest of rehearsal goes by pretty smoothly. Harry’s working well with Aaron and getting better at remembering what he needs to do on stage and where he needs to walk in each scene and during each song.

You don’t do much out of the ordinary. You help lead Harry where he needs to be on stage despite what happened earlier.

He avoids you as much as he can the rest of the day. You know he’s angry with you and you’re tired of having to explain yourself to him. You told him what you needed to. You admitted and acknowledged the hurt he put you through despite not wanting to. Now everything’s gone and done with. Now it’s up to him.

You wonder if admitting the hurt he caused you to his face changes things between the two of you. It was the closure you wanted ever since you broke up four years ago. He knows now and you can let it go. You can leave Harry in your past now that it’s done weighing on your chest. It doesn’t matter that you still have to work with him for the next six weeks. You’re done hurting. You let it go. You let him go.

“Are you coming with us to Stardust or are you heading home?” Aaron asks you after rehearsals are done for the night.

You shrug. You know you should go home. You have an early day tomorrow and you should go to bed early, but you know you’d have fun if you joined them at Stardust prompting the show.

“You don’t have to,” Jane tells you with a gentle smile. You know she can tell how tired you are. “We’ll give you the rundown tomorrow.”

You laugh, nodding at your best friend. “Thanks for giving me permission to go home,” you tease.

You step into your dressing room and Aaron walks down the hall into his own room. You ignore Harry sitting on the couch tucked in the corner of the room. You almost miss the two people that sit beside him on the couch. It makes your heart drop inside your chest.

“Glenne?” you gasp, standing frozen at the door. Her eyes meet yours. “What are you doing here?”

She smiles brightly at you. She stands up from her spot on the couch and nearly tackles you into a hug. You laugh and wrap your arms around her. She squeezes you tightly and kisses your cheek.

“You suck at keeping in touch,” Glenne teases, leaning back to get a better look at you.

You roll your eyes and laugh at her. “Is being a Broadway Star a valid excuse yet?” you ask her.

She scoffs at you and nudges you playfully. “I see you’re still a smart-ass.”

“Hey, I’m your pseudo sister, of course I’m a smart-ass!” you reason with a giggle.

“Well, Jeff and I are here for the next week, so you better tell me everything! We were just about to head out for dinner. Would you like to join us?”

It’s like Glenne forgot what happened between you and Harry. It was one of the reasons why you struggled reaching out to her after you moved to New York. Your fears always got the better of you.

What if she told Harry how you were truly feeling? God, what if she told Jeff? You wouldn’t know what to do or say if either of them knew the amount of emotional distress you were going through when you and Harry broke up. It was one of the reasons why you distanced yourself from Glenne. She was so close with Harry that you feared she might let some things slip that you didn’t want Harry to know.

You sigh, scratching at your arm. You know you shouldn’t, especially after what happened between you and Harry earlier today. He’s pissed at you and wants nothing to do with you.

“I dunno, Glenne. I don’t want to intrude. You came for Harry,” you tell her, avoiding the look of disappointment on her face. “I shouldn’t.”

“I’m sure Harry won’t mind. Right, H?” Glenne asks, turning her head to look at him. He sits up and shrugs. He avoids looking at you.

“You can come. I don’t care,” he responds, standing up from his spot on the couch. You nod awkwardly and grab your jacket from your chair. Slipping your arms through, you grab your bag and Jane looks at you in disbelief. She can’t believe you’re choosing to go out with old friends you lost touch with as a result of your break up with Harry four years earlier.

You shake her off and she rolls her eyes at you before disappearing down the hall into Aaron’s dressing room. You swallow hard and shake off your nerves before trailing behind Harry, Jeff, and Glenne as you leave the back of the theater.

You walk to the garage closest to the theater and wordlessly climb into the back of Harry’s car. Glenne joins you in the back seat and you rub your hands on the top of your thighs. You shouldn’t have said yes to dinner. You should be at home drinking wine by yourself, eating dinner, and watching reruns of your favorite TV show.

Harry drives with music playing softly in the background. He drives away from the theater district towards the Upper East Side. It makes your stomach drop and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You may be on Broadway, but there’s no way you can afford to eat wherever Harry’s driving to. You have three roommates and live comfortably and within your means. You never go out of your way to eat at upscale celebrity restaurants or shop at upscale boutiques either.

You cough uncomfortably. “Actually, do you mind dropping me off at my place?”

Harry looks at you through the mirror and Glenne turns her head to look at you. “What? Why?” Glenne asks you.

“Glenne, come on. Harry’s driving towards the Upper East Side. I can’t afford wherever you’re eating dinner. Just take me home,” you answer. Embarrassment and shame wash over you and you hate it. You feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it,” Harry tells you, pulling his eyes away from the mirror and back on the road.

“Harry—”

“I know,” he cuts you off. “I know you don’t like it when I pay for things. You can buy me dinner another time.”

You close your mouth and stare down at your lap. Heat pricks at your cheeks and spreads to the tips of your ears. You feel so inadequate compared to Harry, Glenne, and Jeff. It doesn’t matter that you’re successful in your own right, but you’ll never make enough money to just make a trip to the Upper East Side without it being a special occasion.

You stare out the window as Harry pulls up to the restaurant. You climb out and everyone else does the same. Harry gives his keys to the valet and you walk inside.

The hostess seats you almost immediately. She’s clearly unfazed that Harry is just feet away from her.

You take the seat next to Glenne and you grab at your menu. You hide your face from Harry and another wave of embarrassment washes over you. You’re incredibly under dressed. You planned on just taking the bus home and enjoying the house to yourself in your comfiest pair of joggers and an old college sweatshirt.

Your server comes by to take your drink order and you almost order a glass of Pinot Grigio. You decide against it when you realize Harry’s footing the bill and just ask for water.

“So, how’s New York been for you? How many shows have you been in?” Jeff asks you when you set your menu back on the table.

“I love it here. I know it’s another city but it’s so different from LA. I’ve really found my place here and I can’t imagine living anywhere else. This is my home,” you smile at him. It’s the first genuine smile that graces your features. You’re starting to relax and breathe a bit better than when you were in the car. “I’ve been in five shows since I’ve been here. Phantom is my first big lead, though.”

“We’re glad you’re happy,” Glenne smiles at you. “You should be so proud of all that you’ve done!”

Your eyes meet Harry’s briefly and you nudge your childhood friend. You laugh. “Trust me, I am. It’s definitely been hard sometimes, but I have Janie to lean on. She’s my rock. I don’t know where I’d be without her. She’s my best friend.”

“And you’re in a show together! It must be awesome to work alongside your best friend every day.”

You nod as your server returns with your drinks. He takes down your meals before disappearing again. You anxiously tap your foot underneath the table and you fumble with your fingers.

“How have you been?” you ask Jeff in order to avoid another awkward silence.

Jeff starts talking but it falls on deaf ears. You lose interest and your eyes wander around the restaurant. You can tell the patrons are struggling to keep their eyes away from your table. You don’t blame them. You were like that with Harry when you first met all those years ago.

“Excuse me?” a timid voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you look to your left. A girl with gorgeous auburn hair stands at the foot of the table. If you had to guess, she’s at least 16. You smile gently and you quickly look over at Harry. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Hi,” you greet her with a soft smile.

Her shoulders immediately relax and she beams at you. You hadn’t expected that.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Y/n, but I’m a big fan. You’re an amazing actor and I love your voice. I’m hoping to go to school for musical theater like you did when I’m 18. Can I have your autograph and maybe a photo?” the girl asks you, rocking on the back of her heels.

Your eyes widen at the teenage girl in front of you. You’ve never been approached for autographs or photos outside the theater. It shocks you, and you know Glenne, Harry, and Jeff notice.

You nod, laughing softly. You slip out of the booth. “Yes, of course! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Rachel,” she answers as she hands you a worn Playbill of The Phantom of the Opera. She hands you a pen and you address it to her before signing your name underneath.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Rachel. I’ll have my friend Glenne take the photo for us.”

Rachel hands over her phone to Glenne and you gently wrap an arm around Rachel’s torso. She does the same to you and you grin as Glenne takes plenty of photos for Rachel to look through.

“Thank you so much! It was so night to meet you, Y/n. Have a good dinner,” Rachel says her goodbyes before hurrying back over to her table.

You slide back into your seat and let out a soft laugh. You smile, shaking your head. Glenne and Jeff laugh too as the server comes back with your meals.

“I can’t believe that just happened. I’ve never been stopped in public before,” you say in disbelief.

“You just made that girl’s year,” Glenne grins, cutting into her food.

You hum and dig into your food. You ignore the soft smile on Harry’s face as his eyes linger on you.

After dinner, you leave the restaurant and wait patiently for Harry’s car to pull up from the valet.

“Our hotel isn’t too far from here, so we’re going to walk back,” Glenne says, hugging you and Harry before they start walking down the street.

Harry’s car is parked briefly in front of the restaurant and you open the door to the passenger side before climbing inside. You anxiously rub your hands together as Harry climbs inside and drives off.

You don’t talk unless you’re directing him towards your house. It’s awkward and you’re visibly uncomfortable. Your hands run along the tops of your thighs as he pulls up to your home. He parks on the side of the road and you turn to look at him.

“Thanks for dinner and driving me home. You didn’t have to invite me to dinner with Jeff and Glenne, but you did anyway. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you murmur quietly, reaching for your bag and opening the car door.

Harry reaches for your hand and you turn to look at him. You don’t pull away and Harry awkwardly lets your hand go. Something twists inside your chest.

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Y/n,” he says softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You climb out of the car and shut the door behind you. You practically run up the small porch steps of your home. Your hands are shaking as you unlock the door. You step inside and nearly slam the door shut behind you. You rest your back against the door and shake your head.

Locking the door, you peek through the small window as Harry drives off now that you’re in the safety of your own home.

Your stomach twists and your hands are hot and clammy. You kick off your shoes and run up to the bathroom. Maybe a shower will fix how you’re feeling.

It doesn’t, and you fall asleep thinking of Harry.

#enjoy everyone!!! let me know what you think!!!#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry imagines #harry imagine #my writing

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writinginthesecrettrees · 4 years

Text

I don’t know how to be without you

Sam wakes up slowly, cramped and uncomfortable in the front seat of the Impala, and for a moment he thinks everything’s right in the world and he’s not sure why because in the next he remembers. Dean disappearing, and Castiel too, and Crowley running off with Kevin and Sam… Sam alone, completely alone like he’s never been in his life. He stares up into the darkness, tries to recapture the feeling of rightness that he hadn’t felt since Dean vanished.

The car shifts slightly, and a sound from the backseat has Sam fully awake, half-over the seat with his gun in his hand ready to shoot whoever snuck into the car.

And it’s Dean, wearing Dad’s old leather jacket and the amulet that Sam has to check is still in his front pocket, brow creased slightly in his sleep.

“Dean?” It’s barely a whisper, but the Dean in the car hears it, wakes up himself, eyes going straight to the gun still pointing at him, and Sam fumbles to put it away, drops it somewhere in the footwell.

“What the hell…”

It sounds like Dean, looks like Dean, smells like Dean. And that sense of rightness in his soul…

It’s not like they haven’t time traveled before. Still, Dean would kill him if he didn’t make sure. Sam splashes holy water onto the man in the backseat.

He shakes the water off his face with the same grumpy look the real Dean would give, then looks at the silver knife Sam’s holding out, handle first.

“I repeat: what the hell.”

Sam stretches his arm out so that the handle of the knife nudges the younger Dean’s cheek. “You can do it, or I can do it, but one of us is gonna do it.”

Dean bats Sam’s hand away, takes the handle. “Alright, alright,” he says, setting the blade against his arm. He draws a thin line of blood without flinching. “Satisfied?”

Sam nods, tries to speak but there’s a lump welling up in his throat and he can’t.

“So who the hell are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my car.”

It’s not a question, and Sam can’t answer anyway. He stares at Dean, drinks in the sight of his brother, younger and cocky and so much more carefree than the Dean he just lost but still Dean, has to blink away the tears that threaten to blur his vision. His lip quirks up in a half-smile, and he manages a single word: “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean answers without thinking, then pauses. Looks closer, and… “Sammy?”

Sam nods, and now he can’t stop the tears, scrambles up and over the seat to get close to Dean. Dean’s arms close around him automatically, Dean’s hands stroke over his hair and back as Sam burrows into the younger man. He can hear Dean muttering something, but Sam’s lost in the scent and feel of his brother, climbs fully into Dean’s lap and nuzzles against his neck. Finally, he starts to calm. As if sensing it, Dean’s hands slide to his shoulders, push him back. Green eyes bore into him.

“So, if you’re Sam… why aren’t you at college? And why are you old?”

“That’s a really long story.”

“I got time.”

Sam sighs, then leans forward. Lays his head on Dean’s shoulder, slides his hand across Dean’s belly to wrap around his waist, and the slight shudder Dean gives when Sam’s fingers brush across bare skin makes Sam smile.

“You broke into my apartment. Said Dad was missing. And you wanted me to help look for him.”

Dean stays silent while Sam tells him about looking for Dad, about Jess and the fire, about almost everything that’s happened in the last eight years. And Dean tentatively returns Sam’s touches, runs his hands over Sam’s arms, chest, face with increasing confidence. When Sam finishes, breath hitching as he tells Dean how he killed Dick and then vanished, Dean’s hands have slid up his back, under his shirt.

Sam shifts his seat, twists around to face Dean with his knees planted to either side of Dean’s legs. He leans in to press his face into Dean’s hair. “God, I miss you,” he whispers, and Dean shivers.

“Sammy, is this… are we…” Dean stutters to a stop, one hand buried in Sam’s hair and the other resting too far low and back to be on Sam’s hip.

Sam rocks back into the hand on his ass, tries to make sense of what Dean’s asking. From the very first time it had felt like forever, slipping from brothers to lovers as easy as breathing, and he’d almost forgotten that there had ever been a time they weren’t together.

“After Dad died, it just… It felt right,” Sam says, rocks forward to press himself against Dean, and Dean gasps, slips his hand into Sam’s pants to massage his ass and pull him closer. Sam moans softly, grinds his hips down as Dean thrusts up, ignores the painful roughness of denim between them.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” Dean says, then pulls Sam’s head down to crush their lips together.

Dean tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, like he did the first time Sam ever kissed him, and it helps that this isn’t the same Dean he lost, that he can pretend he’s twenty-three and surrendering to the lifelong pull for the first time again. Sam licks into Dean’s mouth and Dean’s hand tightens in his hair. A sense of urgency comes over Sam, and he sits back, ducking his head to avoid hitting the ceiling, and pulls his shirt off. Dean’s mouth drops open and he presses one hand to Sam’s chest, traces over the lines of his muscles and rolls his thumb over Sam’s nipple.

“What’s this?” Dean asks, running his fingers over the tattoo on Sam’s chest.

Sam shivers at the ticklish feel. “Anti-possession. You have one too, later. We match.”

Dean keeps rubbing at the tattoo, a smile teasing at his lips, and he says, “Good.”

Sam pushes the jacket off Dean’s shoulders, tugs at the hem of Dean’s shirt until Dean leans forward and lets Sam pull it off completely. Sam sighs with satisfaction, seeing old scars that he’d almost forgotten, used to run his lips and tongue over - the claw marks from a wendigo, bite marks from a black dog, countless thin lines from knives or glass or splintered wood, and half of them from Dean protecting Sam. All of them vanished after Dean came back from Hell, but back now, and Sam presses his lips to the jagged line on Dean’s shoulder, moves lower, ignores the cramping in his back from the limited space in the back of the Impala.

He works his way down Dean’s chest, sucks red marks into Dean’s skin while keeping his eyes on Dean’s face, can’t bear to miss a single expression. Dean’s lips part when Sam presses an open-mouth kiss over the amulet on his chest, and Dean bites his lower lip when Sam slips lower, licking over Dean’s abs and undoing his jeans.

Sam’s nuzzling at Dean’s dick, hard and familiar and mouthwateringly real, when Dean somehow flips them, leaving Sam flat on his back and bent almost in half and Dean kneeling on the seat between his legs.

“Wanna fuck you, Sammy,” Dean says, and it’s exactly what he said the first time, and Sam grins up at him.

“Yeah, okay,” is a private joke, and this Dean doesn’t get it because he’s never heard it before but that doesn’t matter, not when he’s got Sam’s pants off and is rubbing a spit-slick finger over Sam’s hole.

Just spit was fine when they were fucking every night, and sometimes in the day, but it’s been over a month and Sam’s tight as the first time. He winces at the burn when Dean slips his finger into Sam, reaches down and fumbles at the space beneath the front seat until his hand closes over a half-empty bottle of lube.

“Here,” he says, shoving the bottle at Dean, and Dean’s eyes light up.

“Flavored? Sammy, are we freaky?” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me,” Sam says, loves the way Dean’s eyes go sultry at the thought.

Cold lube dripped onto his hole makes Sam gasp, and then the breath is squished out of him when Dean hauls his ass up so that his belly is scrunched up and his legs are hanging over Dean’s shoulders and his hole is perfectly level with Dean’s mouth.

Dean didn’t eat him out the first time, took months to admit that he wanted to try it, almost shy, and “yeah, okay,” was the only response Sam could give at the thought of Dean’s tongue in his ass. This Dean dives in, mouth open and teeth scraping over puckered flesh as his tongue stabs into Sam, and Sam can’t do anything but moan.

He loosens quickly on Dean’s tongue and Dean slides a finger in alongside it. Then two, and he pulls his face back to watch his fingers twisting and thrusting into Sam’s hole. “So pretty,” Dean says, pressing a soft kiss to the skin stretched taut around his fingers. “You’re so pretty, Sammy, so hot and tight and I need to fuck you now, okay, baby brother?”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam pants out, desperate for more, and Dean smiles like he gets the joke.

Dean presses his forehead to Sam’s as he presses his dick into Sam, one slow push until he’s fully sheathed and Sam latches his ankles together behind Dean’s back, pulls him infinitesimally deeper. “Feels good, De,” Sam says.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” Dean says, half to himself, as he pulls back to thrust in again, sets up a quick deep rhythm.

The pounding forces short high yelps out of Sam and Dean’s amulet swings between them, bouncing off Sam’s chin. Dean starts to take it off, and Sam stops him. “Don’t, please,” he says, makes the biggest puppy eyes he can. When Dean leaves it, Sam smiles, catches the amulet in his mouth and sucks on it while Dean fucks him, and Dean groans at the sight.

Dean’s dick in his ass and Dean’s abs sliding over his cock with every thrust push Sam to the edge faster than he’d wanted, but it’s been a while and he comes, white spilling out over his chest. Dean cries out, the clench of Sam’s ass squeezing him, and he collapses on top of Sam, shooting his own release deep inside.

They lie together, cramped and hot and sticky and unwilling to separate enough to clean up even a little.

“D’you think I’m here to stay?” Dean asks softly.

“I hope so. Dean, I… I don’t know where you are. I don’t know how to be without you.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean smooths Sam’s hair back from his temples, kisses the tip of his nose. “You’re smart, and strong, and I’m here. I’m right here. You’re gonna be fine.”

Sam falls asleep to the sound of Dean humming “Hey Jude,” and sleeps sounder than he has since Dean disappeared.

Eight years ago, Dean wakes up in the back of the Impala, shreds of memory slipping out of his head like quicksilver dreams, leaving him with a sense of certainty: Sammy needs him as much as he needs Sammy, especially now that Dad’s missing. He slides into the driver’s seat and points Baby west, towards Stanford.

#wincest #fanfic #time travel #when pre-season 1 dean meets pre-season 8 sam in the back of the impala #how does the time travel happen?#something something magic #it doesn't matter #🍋#is this angst?#it feels like angst #maybe it's just me

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avengersassemble-fics · 5 years

Text

What is it About You?

part 03/10 “a blast”

masterlist

previous part

word count 3.2k

an: sorry for the delay y’all but I kinda just wanted to enjoy my week off for spring break (even if that’s pushed back until march 29. but lets not talk about that)

Your feet carried you back to your quarters faster than you had wanted. You nodded to a couple people you had passed and didn’t hesitate as you practically threw yourself through your door and it shut behind you. One hand balled into a fist and repeatedly pressed into your other palm, as you processed what had exactly just happened. You took a few steps into the center of your room and began to pace.

Okay, this would be no problem. Yes you may have never seen any kind of action before but this was going to be fine. They had briefed you a bit on what to expect, and you knew from the name that Jakku was a pretty desert and barren planet. They weren’t expecting much Resistance activity, but the squad was going to be well prepared. You had zoned out when you felt a presence in your mind.

For someone so stoic, your mind is racing, his voice said. You fought the urge to shoot daggers at the Commander on the other side of the table.

Get out of my head, you thought - hoping he would just leave you alone.

As I’ve said, you’re too loud to ignore, he replied. You glanced for a moment at the masked man and right back to General Hux.

Go read someone else’s mind, then, you told him and shifted in your seat.

It doesn’t work like that.

You stopped in your tracks. You had forgotten to go and check the progress on the Command Shuttle. You grumbled to yourself and straightened your posture before heading to the door, you would be quick, and come back and lay in your bed and grovel over your life decisions. The door opened for you and you stepped back into the overly familiar hallway. Your feet knew where to take you.

You hadn’t taken the time to really think about what exactly Commander Ren’s words meant, all of them over the course of the last day. Had it really only been a day? And he was already bugging you this much? Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. And with the news you were going along on the Jakku mission you had to deal with him even more.

You slammed into someone else’s body, knocking sideways and also back to reality. You were about to apologize when you saw who it was.

“Commander,” you greeted. He ignored you and kept walking. You stared at the back of his helmet and turned back to where you were headed. Whatever. You took a deep breath and continued on your way, making sure this time you were focused on where you were going.

The door to the bay opened for you and you were met with cold air. You shivered, but made your way over to the Command Shuttle, so far from the distance it looked good as far as the minimal repairs on the outside. You passed by a crew and nodded at them, they were the only ones in the bay besides you but with them leaving you found yourself completely alone. It was dinner time for most of the base, and the silence that filled the air was comforting to you. You did your usual routine, walking around the shuttle and looking for any imperfections (there weren't any).

The ramp was kept open and you walked onboard, not much light came in from the bay but it was enough for you to see that the wall of the shuttle was no longer in complete disarray. You instinctively ran your fingers over the metal, and a content sigh left your lips.

“Is it true?”

You jumped slightly, a hand going over your chest, as you spun around. Kylo Ren was at the bottom of the ramp, looking up at you. You closed your eyes for a moment before shaking your head.

“What?” you asked. He took slow steps up the ramp and his hand motioned around him.

“Did you help design this?” he asked, more straight forward.

You looked around, a smile gracing your lips for only a moment, “Unknowingly, yes. My final year in training a few men from this base came to the Academy and had the top performing engineers in the program design a shuttle based off a loose blueprint,” you paused to look at him, and saw he was still looking at you so you continued, “they took interest in mine and helped fine tune it. And I guess they ended up producing it.”

“They took credit,” he said and earned a nod from you, “that’s..unfortunate.”

He was careful with his wording and you raised a brow at him slightly. He moved past you to the pilot chair, his hand touching the top. You watched with curiosity, and finally broke the silence.

“What did you mean earlier? When you said that.. It doesn’t work like that?”

He turned his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. You didn’t break the eye contact, so he turned to face you fully. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You seemed to have forgotten from the early hours to now how much bigger he was then you.

“I can’t just read people’s minds, not unless I put effort into it,” he explained, “but.. With you, you’re always there. Like an annoying bug.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “If it’s so annoying then why are you here, or just keep showing up? Now that’s annoying.”

You probably shouldn’t have said that. You noticed how his fist tightened, and his head seemed to twitch. A feeling formed inside of your gut, twisting your insides and you grimaced at the discomfort. It was him. He took a step forward, his hand opening and pressure formed inside your mind.

“Need I remind you,” he nearly growled, “if you continue to irritate me, you can easily be disposed of. With no regret.”

You winced as he neared, his hold on you tightening with each inch he got closer. You nodded and he released the pressure. You hand rubbed the side of your head and he walked past you, disappearing off the ramp.

It was going to be a long week.

----------

The Finalizer is huge, probably the biggest command ship you would ever step foot on. You had the “pleasure” of leaving with the likes of the Commander and Captain Phasma to the astronomically large ship in space. Of course by pleasure you meant you wanted to tear your hair out by how silent the pair was. There were a couple of storm troopers there, probably for your sake but who knew, and a third piloting the shuttle. Of all your years working on it, you had never been able to actually ride in it.

It wasn’t too long of a ride (thank god) but it was enough for you to eagerly await the sweet release of stepping foot onto the Finalizer. By protocol, the troopers exited first, followed by the pilot and then by you, all to wait for the Commander and Captain to come offboard. You stood shoulder to shoulder of one another, and your eyes looked to the four shuttles that were already there, lines of Stormtroopers awaiting Captain Phasma. Your eyes looked straight in front of you as the two walked off the ramp, and past the line you all had formed. When they were a distance away, that meant the crew was dismissed. The pilot, still with their helmet on, turned to you.

“Have you been on board before?” his voice asked you, covered by the typical vocoder.

“Nope, first time,” you replied, and you took a couple steps forward to the bay doors, noticing him lingering by your side.

“I can show you around, if you like,” he offered and you waved your hands.

“No no that’s perfectly fine,” you reassured him, “I think I can find my way around.”

And he nodded, and veered off from your direction. You let out a sigh, and your eyes glanced towards the squadron of troopers, where Kylo Ren was. If he could tell you were looking his way he ignored you.

It didn’t matter to you, you just needed to find the informations level and try and see if you can get any information on what exactly you’re expected to decode. The halls of the Finalizer were more narrow and darker, and the bay doors closed behind you. People walked around you as you tried to gauge your surroundings. You felt yourself get pulled into the direction of travel and just let it take you. There was a low beeping noise than rang through the ship, indicating the Finalizer was about to jump to hyperspace.

You pulled yourself from the traffic and stopped by a set of elevators, and pressed the call button. You found yourself tapping your foot, and thoughts you could feel the command ship going into hyperspace. The elevator doors opened and you stepped in, joined by a couple other people. The doors shut and multiple buttons were pressed, and you eyed one of the officers who had come in. They looked like an intelligence officer, maybe you should just follow them.

And you did. When the floor opened up, they exited and you did as well, to a room full of intelligence consoles, and people on them and listening intently. The person who exited the elevator seemed to sense your presence.

“Do you need assistance with something?”

You noticed his eyes glide over you, and you took a sharp breath, “I need a scramble key and data pad.”

“And why is that?” He pressed. You furrowed your brows at him.

“I don’t think Commander Ren would appreciate the unnecessary questions about his mission,” you saw him straighten, “the scramble key and data pad. Now, please.”

He motioned for someone, and another man scurried over, holding what you needed. You took it from him and looked back to the man who had first spoken with you, “Thank you.”

You turned back to the elevator and pressed the call button, seconds passed and it opened up for you and you stepped inside. It closed and you rolled your eyes to yourself. It was irritating not being taken seriously, and having to use Commander Ren’s name to get what you needed. But, something you did remember your mother telling you was you can’t help those who don’t see you as their equal, and just to keep being you.

How naive she had been, but it was kind.

Another beep filled the air, indicating the ship exiting hyperspace. The elevator doors opened for you and you found yourself back to the floor you originally were on. You instinctively made your way back to the bay you had landed in, and was rushed past by the troopers you had originally exited with. Too caught up in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice Captain Phasma approach you.

“Officer,” she greeted, halting you in your tracks, you laid the data pad against your legs, “I hope you retrieved everything you need for the mission.

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” you said, but decided to press further, “but it would be of help to know what exactly you’re expecting to be decoded—“

“You don’t need to worry yourself with such details,” she warned you. Before you could reply, she was walking to the shuttles that were being loaded with her chosen squad. You looked over the mass of white armour, wondering if that trooper you had met earlier was there, but with the helmets there was no telling. You continued your walk to the command shuttle, the roar of engines coming to life from the transports.

You stood alongside the pilot and troopers on this shuttle, awaiting Commander Ren to join you. You pressed your feet together, rubbing the pad in your hand.

“I heard that the Resistance’s best pilot is down there,” one commented.

“Hear that, Jameson? Their best pilot, you can see what a real man flies like,” another joked.

“The Resistance is filled with amateur people, I’m sure he isn’t so special,” the pilot next to you scoffed. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. If this was how men compared themselves to others then maybe it was best you stayed on base for all of eternity.

“I can’t believe the General of the Resistance is nothing more than a mere princess, what kind of tactic is that?”

You heard the struggle of breath, and everyone turned their heads to the Stormtrooper who was scratching at their throat. Your head turned to the source behind the line, none other than the Commander himself. A part of you was relieved it wasn’t you on the receiving end, but the other part was filled with confusion.

“We do not speak of the Resistance here,” Kylo Ren spoke, “let’s not forget who was nearly shot down by one of the Resistance pilots just days ago,” he released his hand and the trooper gasped, “you should spend more time training and less talking. You’re dismissed.”

The trooper removed his helmet, sending daring glares at the Commander, who walked on board his shuttle. You ignored those looks and followed behind with the two remaining troopers. Mumbling something you couldn’t hear and storming away, the trooper vanished from the bottom of the ramp. It began to close and you busied yourself strapping yourself into a chair across from the Commander. You laid the devices you carried in your lap as the engines were switched on, and the pilot made a comment.

“They’ve engaged hostile, sir,” he warned Commander Ren.

Suddenly, a wave of nervousness washed over your body. You had never seen any kind of combat since arriving at Starkiller Base, and as the shuttle lifted into the air and into space outside the air locks, you took a deep breath. Your eyes flickered to the helmet of the Commander, who you felt was staring at you.

He was.

If he would stop staring at you, maybe you could relax.

Me staring at you seems to be the least of your concerns, his voice echoed in your mind. You shut your eyes for a moment, and sighed quietly.

Why are you like this? How many times do I have to say not to read my mind or whatever this is?

Calm down, he said. His voice didn’t sound like it was behind the vocoder, but like when he took his helmet off the other day to spar with you, Captain Phasma will have them subdued by the time we land.

“Two minutes out, Commander,” the pilot said, as you felt the pull of the atmosphere (in a way, not like you could actually feel it passing through yourself).

You watched him stand, easily adjusting to the movement of the shuttle as it began to land. Two minutes passed in almost an instant. You had only unbuckled yourself when the shuttle was fully landed and the ramp opened. You watched as he walked off the ramp and into the darkness of Jakku.

He did have style, you could admit that much. You guess.

You quieted your nerves, no sound of blaster fire as you stepped behind the Commander and the two troopers. The sight before you was favorable for the First Order, the large mass of stormtroopers towered over the few resistance there was, Commander Ren focused on one older man.

“Look how old you’ve become,” he said, his vocoder evening his tone of voice.

“Something far worse has happened to you,” the older man said back.

You felt the irritability in your mind, seeing him tighten his fist, “You know what I’ve come for.”

“I know where you come from. Before you called yourself Kylo Ren.”

Anger filled your mind now. It almost felt too much and you winced, watching the scene unfold before you, Kylo motioned for his men, and the two Stormtroopers you travelled with moved forward, gripping the old man, and reaching throughout his pockets.

“The map to Skywalker. We know you’ve found it, and now you’re going to give it to the First Order,” he spoke, placing his hands behind his back. Suddenly, one of the troopers pulled something from the mans jacket, walking over to the Commander, who took it in his fingers. He looked it over in his hand, and then turned to you, walking over and placing it in yours.

Coordinates.

You nodded to yourself as you turned the artifact in your fingers. It felt like metal, looked like metal, but you didn’t know what kind. Commander Ren turned back to the old man as you attached the slicer to the device, and to the data pad. As quick as you could, you worked through the data in front of you, basic codes, and star systems flowing through your mind.

You stopped over one piece of information. Your fingers graced the screen, and looked back to the Commander. He knew you looked at him, but ignored your look.

“It’s a fake.”

That got his attention though, almost looking back at you with anger, “What?”

“It’s a fake, sir,” you repeated. Your eyes going back to the old man, who you noticed looked to almost have a smirk on his face. Commander Ren turned back to him.

“I’m not interested in your games, old man,” he warned.

“The First Order rose from the dark side.. You did not.”

Commander Ren shook his head, and you could see him reach for his lightsaber, “I’ll show you the dark side.”

The old man shook his head, and you shifted your weight between your feet. It didn’t have to go on like this, but just as quickly as the thought entered your mind, a thing of pain did as well.

“You may try, but you cannot deny the truth that is your family.”

Commander Ren’s saber ignited, shooting in a cross guard creating a disturbance in the flow, but he meticulously brought it above his head, “You’re so right.”

He rips it across the old man's body, and you close your eyes at the impact. A voice yells from farther away, and your head snaps in the direction. A man, dressed like a pilot, stood from the distance, blaster trained on your direction, and two shots were fired. Commander Ren outreaches his hand, stopping one of the blaster fires from hitting his back. But the other wasn’t so lucky.

The blast was enough to send you back into the sand, knocking the wind from your body. It was a fine tuned shot on your stomach, which with a glance and by the touch of your fingers, you could tell it was bloody. You panicked as a couple Stormtroopers came to your side, one with a trickle of blood down their helmet, and the other placing a hand over your bloody torso. Stop the bleeding, wrap it up, you didn’t know.

You stared up at the starry night sky, your breathing frantic as a couple of voices tried to get your attention. You couldn’t focus though on their words, letting one take your head into their hands.

Oh. The one you had met a few days ago. Finn you would call him.

As he did that it allowed you to see the Commander. His powers had allowed the pilot to almost be frozen in spot, and a couple of troopers to grab him. He was looking to you, maybe? You couldn’t really tell, but heaviness filled your mind, and in an instance — everything went dark.

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movie-magic · 3 years

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Loki: Every MCU Easter Egg In Episode 1

Loki has officially begun on Disney+, and Tom Hiddleston comes bearing plenty of Marvel Easter eggs in the premiere episode. Here's what we found.

The premiere episode of Loki is burdened with glorious Marvel Easter eggs, from potential future villain teases to skulking Skrulls. Even before the considerable success enjoyed by WandaVision and Falcon & The Winter Soldier, MCU fans were eagerly anticipating Tom Hiddleston's return as the God of Mischief. Now blessed with his own Disney+ solo series, Loki has all of time and space to bother, and the premiere wastes little time throwing Hiddleston from the Avengers' frying pan into the TVA's fire.

After using the Tesseract to escape The Avengers in Avengers: Endgame, Loki is swiftly picked up by the Time Variance Authority - a seemingly omniscient organization overseeing the entirety of time and space. Evidently not ones to take prisoners, Loki's fate at the TVA looks grim, but Owen Wilson's Major Mobius intervenes, handing the silver-tongued variant a reprieve. In the opening episode, Mobius successfully digs to the root of Loki's dastardly ways, breaking him down to (presumably) build him back up, all with the aim of enlisting Loki's services as an ally to hunt down an especially vicious variant murdering the TVA's Minute Men.

Loki's premiere is predictably heavy with exposition, and relatively limited in scope, mostly taking place within the walls of TVA HQ. Nevertheless, Michael Waldron (creator) and Kate Herron (director) pepper the 50-minute installment with an array of references to the Marvel comics, MCU history callbacks, and hints of the multiverse madness to come. Here's every Easter egg we discovered in Loki's "Glorious Purpose."

The Avengers Intro Sequence:

Loki's introductory scene is somewhat of an Easter egg itself, retelling the famous Tesseract heist from Avengers: Endgame. Much of the footage here derives straight from the 2019 box office behemoth, meaning no other MCU stars filmed additional footage or recorded new dialogue especially for Loki. With that said, a few extra Tom Hiddleston moments are spliced into the existing footage to show events entirely from Loki's point of view. The villain's Steve Rogers "search and rescue" gag is zoomed-in, and there's a closer shot of Loki waving goodbye to Hulk in the elevator, as well as fresh reaction shots during the Stark scuffle in the lobby.

An Iron Man Callback:

After commandeering the Tesseract in New York, Loki finds himself falling from the sky above Mongolia's Gobi Desert, landing unceremoniously in the sand below, and this scene might trigger a sense of déjà vu for longtime MCU fans. In 2008's Iron Man, Tony Stark escapes capture by creating a rudimentary suit of hi-tech armor. Flying to safety, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist also lands roughly in a remote desert. There's a symbolic correlation in how Iron Man marked the beginning of the MCU, while Loki is now ushering in a whole new chapter, and both begin with their protagonists in matching predicaments. Both characters also crash while evading incarceration, though only Loki immediately finds himself in chains once again.

"Burdened With Glorious Purpose":

As a man who rarely shuts up, Loki has plenty of wry MCU catchphrases, and one of his most famous would be "I am burdened with glorious purpose" from The Avengers. Disney +'s Loki premiere leans heavily into the line's popularity, with Tom Hiddleston repeating the quote on several occasions throughout the episode, the phrase becoming less sinister with every utterance.

The TVA:

The addition of the TVA to MCU canon was confirmed ahead of time via Loki's trailer and, sure enough, the paradoxical pen-pushers play a prominent part in the premiere. Although their motivations and methods are somewhat altered from the source material (as well as their aesthetic, which now sits closer to The Umbrella Academy's Commission), the TVA hails directly from the Marvel comic books. They were introduced by a 1986 issue of Thor that featured several time-hopping agents, one of which picked a random Earthling up for jaywalking.

A Skrull At The TVA:

Given their propensity to shape-shift and assimilate the forms of other races, it's not surprising that a Skrull might be lurking around the TVA's front desk. One of the MCU's green aliens can be spotted in the background as Loki gets marched in, and though it's not clear why the Skrull is present, the distinct lack of guards would suggest they aren't a variant. A timely reminder that Secret Invasion is right around the corner.

The Time Twisters:

As you'd predict, Loki tries running away. With minimum effort, Hunter B-15 (played by Wunmi Mosaku) clicks a device, and Loki is pulled back to where he stood moments earlier, effectively making escape impossible. These time twisters appear to be standard issue at the TVA, and have a vaguely similar counterpart in the Marvel comics called the Retroactive Cannon. Far more lethal than Loki's little clickers, these devices would rewind a person completely until they were unwritten from history. Like The Algorithm in Tenet, but less confusing.

Life Model Decoys:

For someone who spent many, many years unaware he was actually a Frost Giant, Loki probably shouldn't be shocked that some people don't realize they're secretly robots. Heading through the TVA's airport scanner, Loki passes the test with flying colors, though he remains perplexed by the idea someone could be unknowingly cybernetic, Loki's line is a nod to Life Model Decoys, which have appeared in both the Marvel comics, and Agents of SHIELD. These lifelike androids can mimic mankind so perfectly, the LMD itself isn't always certain of the truth.

Secret Wars?:

Whether you've accidentally arrived late for work, or just escaped a group of costumed vigilantes by seizing a glowing blue cube from the beginning of time, being labeled as a variant is confusing stuff. Luckily, the TVA has put together a short animation to fill quantum criminals in on the basics. The helpful Miss Minutes finally provides an explanation of the MCU multiverse, revealing how, long ago, separate timelines fought an inter-dimensional war for supremacy that almost resulted in total annihilation. Since then, the TVA has strictly maintained one single reality - the Sacred Timeline *echoes*. The history lesson bears some similarity to 2015's Secret Wars comic event, in which conflicting universes came together in Battleworld (the setting of the original Secret Wars), and attempts were made to streamline Marvel's sandbox.

The Time-Keepers:

The TVA's infomercial also confirms the organization are led by three Time-Keepers, who oversee the combined reality and dictate the proper flow of history. This big-faced trio were first introduced in the late 1970s, created from the sole remaining survivor of the previous universe's destruction. The mysterious overlords performed much the same function in the comics as they do in Loki, and possessed virtually complete mastery over time.

Kree And Nova's Attack On Titan:

As the animated exposition rumbles on, Miss Minutes (voiced by Tara Strong) uses "starting an uprising" as an example of something the TVA might potentially frown upon. The corresponding image shows two armies clashing, with the blue folk on the left appearing to be Kree, and the force on the right possibly the Nova Corps. Based on the spiky ruins in the background, the battle is taking place on Thanos' home planet of Titan. In Guardians of the Galaxy, Ronan confirmed the Kree and Nova Corps were at war for 1000 years - was the TVA involved somehow?

Nexus Events:

This week's lesson from Miss Minutes explains how stepping off one's designated path can create a "Nexus event," and spiral out of control to spawn countless alternate timelines that trigger another war. This word has cropped up several times in the MCU, first as an internet facility in Oslo (Avengers: Age of Ultron), and then as an antidepressant drug during one of WandaVision's fake commercials. The latter was most likely a reference to the Nexus of All Realities from the Marvel comics, which is essentially a gateway between every possible timeline. The TVA's Nexus events could take their name from the very same source.

The Timeline Diagram:

Throughout Loki's Disney+ debut, the TVA repeatedly use diagrams of a single flowing timeline with branches shooting off to represent unwanted deviations. MCU fans might recognize this from Avengers: Endgame, where the Ancient One drew something extremely similar while explaining the consequences of time travel to Bruce Banner. Perhaps Ms. One has visited the TVA herself once or twice?

Devil In The Church:

MEPHISTO. There, we said it. When Mobius asks a young girl who committed time crimes in 16th century France and the child points to a stained glass window depicting the Devil, Loki knew exactly what it was doing. WandaVision dropped several hints that Marvel's own Satan would appear, all of which proved fruitless, and Loki seems to be heading down the same hellish vein. Alas, there could be a simpler explanation. Mobius claims to be chasing an alternate version of Loki, and it's highly likely the child has mistaken the God of Mischief's famous horned helmet for the demonic horns of Lucifer.

Ravonna Renslayer:

Though her name isn't mentioned in Loki's premiere, Gugu MBatha-Raw's TVA judge is actually Ravonna Renslayer, who made her debut in a 1965 Avengers issue. In the comics, Renslayer is a human from the far future, most often a villainous figure associated with Kang the Conqueror. She certainly isn't a legal official sat behind a desk. One would imagine Marvel Studios has something more interesting in store for Renslayer further down the line.

Explaining Endgame:

During his TVA interrogation, Loki quite rightly points out that it was not he who meddled with the timeline. T'was those pesky Avengers who penetrated the Quantum Realm and disrupted the natural course of events in the aftermath of the Battle of New York; Loki merely picked up the Tesseract that fell at his feet. Unfortunately, this excuse falls on deaf ears, as Gugu MBatha-Raw confirms the Avengers' ambitious time heist was entirely sanctioned by the Time-Keepers. This exchange more or less clears up every single timeline wrinkle in the MCU, including Steve Rogers' reunion with Peggy, and Gamora from the past staying in the present. It's not altering time that irks the TVA; it's altering time in a manner the Time-Keepers haven't permitted.

Loki's "Wooing":

After Owen Wilson saves Loki from being "reset," the pair sit down for a more friendly conversation, but when Loki warns Mobius that cooperation isn't an option, the TVA officer retorts with, "even when you're wooing someone powerful you intend to betray?" Loki has betrayed a fair few people during his time, and Mobius' accusation could easily apply to Odin or Thor. Most likely, however, Mobius is alluding to Thanos here - a powerful figure Loki tried buttering up with intent to usurp him once the universe was brought to its knees.

Josta:

While not strictly a Marvel reference, it's worth noting that Mobius is a big fan of an ice cold Josta. Viewers of a certain age might not recognize this soda brand, but Josta is a genuine Pepsi product that was available in the late 1990s before being discontinued. An early variety of energy drink, there's evidently a few perks to hunting down timeline criminals. In Mobius' case, this includes sugary contraband.

Loki's Greatest Hits:

In a twisted version of It's A Wonderful Life, Mobius tries to change Loki by examining his choices in the past, present and future. Unlike the jaunty 1946 holiday classic, Mobius has access to a handy hi-tech screen which displays Loki's "greatest hits." The footage begins with the God of Mischief's defeat and arrest in 2012's The Avengers - perhaps not an entry Loki himself would've picked for the highlight reel. The screen next switches to Phil Coulson's death (which Loki definitely would pick), before moving on to images of civilian deaths from the Battle of New York, the gala eyeball removal scene, and the dictator speech, all from The Avengers.

D.B. Cooper:

More an Easter egg from real-world history than Marvel lore, Loki reveals the truth about D.B. Cooper - it was Agatha Loki all along! In 1971, an as-yet-identified man boarded a Boeing 727, held the aircraft ransom for $200,000, then parachuted out with the cash. Mobius' dive into Loki's past reveals that, thanks to a lost bet with Thor, the God of Mischief descended from Asgard to pull the plane heist himself as some kind of stunt. From Loki's hairstyle matching the real D.B. Cooper artist's impression to the smattering of bank notes left behind, there's an impressive attention to detail in this scene.

Infinity Stones In The Desk:

The Infinity Stones... Thanos would give his own daughter just for one. Entire worlds brought to their knees by their power. Humans turned into Gods at the merest touch. Gary from the TVA's HR department using one as a paperweight. Threatening Casey with a fishy demise, Loki finally gets his hands back on the Tesseract, only to discover even Infinity Stones are useless within the TVA's jurisdiction. To Loki's immense surprise, Casey's desk draw is chock-full of discarded Infinity Stones, most either of the Time or Reality variety (no surprises there). The scene essentially confirms that the power of these fabled jewels has led to more than a few timeline variant incidents over the years, but perhaps also undermines the once-unstoppable power of the Infinity Stones. Well, the Infinity Saga is over.

A 3rd Millennium Kang Hint?:

In its final scene, the Loki premiere might just be hinting at the future villain of Ant-Man & The Wasp: Quantumania. The MCU will soon introduce Kang the Conqueror, a major comic book baddie played by Jonathan Majors, and "Glorious Purpose" could represent the first step toward his arrival. Called out to 19th century Oklahoma, TVA agents find a piece of technology hailing from the 3rd millennium. Though it might be a coincidence, Kang hails from the 31st century, and is known for using advanced tech in his dominion of the timeline. The mysterious hooded figure is more likely a Loki variant than Kang himself, but since Ant-Man & The Wasp: Quantumania and Loki both deal in temporal themes, it wouldn't be strange for the Kang foundations to be laid on Disney+.

- Screen Rant

Loki releases new episodes every Wednesday on Disney+.

#loki series #loki #loki odinson #loki show #loki spoilers #tv news #tv show #movie magic #mcu #marvel #movies #marvel cinematic universe #movie news #mcu phase 4 #news #disney+#tv series

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serendipityjxmn · 4 years

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I Hate You, Park Jimin!

Chapter 23

Words Count: 3.1k

TW: Very slight sexual innuendo

Link to Chapter 22

Link to Chapter 24

I didn’t know where to go. I almost choked in my own tears until I felt Jimin’s presence beside me and I instantly relaxed.

“Baby.. you okay..?”

I shook my head.

“Do you wanna leave this place?”

I nodded quickly.

He nodded and wasted no time taking me away, from that place.

We were back in his apartment not long after. But as soon as we arrived, he only told me to quickly take a shower and wear something comfortable and warm since we’re going out. I told him I don’t have the energy nor the mood to do so but he just shot me a glare and told me I only have five minutes.

“Airport?” I almost shrieked when the car pulled over at the familiar place half an hour later. “Why are we heading to the airport?!”

Jimin almost jumped at my sudden outburst since I was brooding in silence during the whole ride in the car until now.

“Get out, now or we’ll miss our plane.”

I hesitantly took a step out of the car and suddenly the horror hit me that I didn’t pack a single thing. Jimin on the other hand seemed determined to whisk me away and not giving me a second to think.

“Jimin! I literally packed nothing! Where are we going anyway? Jimin answer me!” I stopped walking, forcing him to give me attention.

He stopped short too but then rolled his eyes at me. “Babe, we’ll buy everything you need. You don’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

“I don’t want to buy everything! I don’t want to buy shirts and everything, I already have tons of them!”

“Well, you can just go around naked then. Personally, I don’t mind.” He winked then pulled my wrist.

“Jimin!”

“Babe, seriously, you can grill me everything you want. But right now, we need to get on the airplane okay babe?” He tugged me and I gave up so I just followed him.

I glanced at the boarding pass he handed me and my eyes widened. Japan?! He bought a ticket to Japan?!

Did he really just booked a ticket to Japan just because... because of what?

“Jimin why are we going to Japan?” I asked him as soon as we both took our seat. And of course, with Jimin, we got on First Class cabin. It was my first time flying in First Class.

“Why not? I like Japan,” was his only answer.

I shook my head. We were too far to sit together. I pouted slightly.

But soon after I was deep asleep only to be woken up by the announcement made by the pilot that we’ll be arriving soon. Groggily, I looked to my side and saw Jimin playing with his phone.

I briefly wondered if he’s tired as well. It must’ve been past midnight. Was he not sleepy at all?

When we arrived, a sleek black Range Rover picked us up and we rode silently towards wherever our accommodation was. I swore Jimin won’t tell me anything.

We stopped outside a tall and luxurious looking building. It was only now that I noticed Jimin had packed a small suitcase but it was attended by the bellboy immediately. He laced his fingers with mine and I just followed suit silently. He released me for a while to settle things at the reception, speaking in fluent Japanese that I fell in love a thousand times during the time though I was keen not to show it. Once everything was settled, he went back towards me and keeping his firm arms around my waist, he guided me towards our hotel room.

Entering the hotel room- scratch that. It was basically a luxurious premium suite. Well designed and fitted with traditional wooden Japanese interior, it was nothing short of modern beauty. The expansive suite had everything- spacious living room that features rich decor and the jaw dropping floor to ceiling windows with night view of Tokyo, the large bathroom that has yet to be explored (though I managed to note the lack of doors and opaque walls the bathroom has). Walking further inside with Jimin’s guide, the spacious living room leads directly to a huge double glass sliding doors, which I immediately deduced as the bedroom. The interior was simply stunning- a King size bed with dimly lit lights, hmm such an inviting atmosphere for something romantic. The bedroom’s wall were too filled with floor to ceiling windows that accentuates the spectacular view of Tokyo’s city.

As soon as I placed my small handbag on the edge of the bed, I felt strong, firm hands encircling my waist from behind. Almost immediately, I felt Jimin’s hot breath on my neck, raising all the hairs on my body.

He was slowly leaving soft, lithe kisses on my neck and I had to fight the urge to release a moan.

“Jimin-” I called, intending to stop him before I became a mess underneath his touch. I craved comfort from him, I wanted his touch that usually calms my anxiety, but not right now. As much as I want to lean into his touch, I need to keep a firm still since we have things to discuss and matters to be addressed. It proved difficult with his hands that’s started to roam over my stomach, his right hand dangerously close to my breast. “Jimin-“ I called him, trying to push his hands away that had now went on a mission to travel south.

“Baby..” he whispered seductively and I almost combusted.

Taking a deep breath then holding it as if not smelling his scent would somehow make me focus better, I managed to croak, “Jimin go shower.”

He didn’t stop any of his acts though. Instead his lips were now nibbling in my ear, making me shudder. “Shower with me?” He asked, voice dropping seven octaves lower.

I gulped but then proceeded to hold his hands more firmly this time. “No.” I shook my head and took the chance of him being unguarded to step away out of his embrace. Though I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel his stare boring into me from behind.

He let out a sigh. I turned around to see him pouting and almost jumped to throw my hands around him or bite into his adorable cheeks. I shook my head once again at him. I had a feeling that if I joined him in the shower.. there’s only one way how the night would end.

He just hummed a slow and somehow sad response but still made his way to the bathroom alone. Hearing the shower being turned on, I almost went back on my decision and join him in the shower. It sounded so inviting but I was tired enough and I’ve already showered few hours ago.

I could do for a quick refreshing bath but I was pretty exhausted that my eyes felt heavy enough. It doesn’t help that the bed looks so comfy.

I took my breath then proceeded towards the small suitcase Jimin brought before I could succumb to the bed’s invitation. A small gasp of surprise left me as I saw my black satin nightdress neatly folded on the edge of the carrier together with some of my lace undergarments. I looked through again and found a pair of blue jeans and a simple blouse which should be enough to be worn tomorrow if we’re going out. Jimin also packed enough for a day as well. I wonder if we were only going to stay for a night but if we weren’t, we definitely have to buy clothes tomorrow.

Not wanting to waste any time or risking Jimin walking out on me naked, I quickly strip myself out of my pants and hoodie as well as my bra, leaving only my panties on before wearing my nightdress. The hem of the dress stopped to cover my ass enough and certainly fitted with me to accentuate the little curves I have. It somehow made me feel hot.

It certainly wasn’t helping when I came to the complete realisation that the bathroom’s walls were all but transparent enough for me to make out Jimin’s silhouette. I had a feeling that if there wasn’t any fog from the water heater, I can clearly see his glorious naked body. I gulped, feeling hotter now than ever.

God, this isn’t the time! Blame Jimin for packing this nightgowm for me where the thin straps can fall off at the slightest movement I do and the lack of privacy the bathroom seems to have. See, people, expensive things does not always mean better.

Taking my breath, I crawled over the bed and settled underneath the duvet. My body shivered from the contact since the linens had not warmed up yet and at that exact same time, I heard the shower being turned off. I stared at Jimin’s silhouette that was now wrapping his towel around his body. I had a feeling from the way he was sauntering it was as if he was trying to tempt me into the depth of sin while half naked.

I gulped when he exited the bathroom. Looking glorious as ever with his wet hair, his perfectly toned body, those extremely sensual and deep V curves on each side of his waist, the way the small beads of water clung to his body, the line of hairs that settled on the lower part of his abdomen.. leading south... where it was loosely wrapped with towel it’s a wonder it doesn’t fall off-

“You know, if you like the view so much, you know you can just tell me, right Ms. Kim Hana?” Goddamnit, he was smirking at me when I finally dragged my greedy eyes to meet his.

Blushing, I looked down on my lap and pulled the duvet further up, concealing me completely.

Jimin moved towards the bed, towards me and within seconds he was right beside the table, towering me. A high pitched brief scream escaped me when his face went straight towards me and I caught his wicked smile when he lean in even closer, one of his knee coming to rest on the bed. I tilted my own body backwards towards the headboard and when Jimin doesn’t seem to stop his invasion of my space, I turned my body so my back had more space to even go backwards.

My eyes widened when I felt the bed dipping with both of his knees now on top, hands on either side of my face, mischievous gleaming in his eyes as I fell on my back, flat on the bed and his face is dangerously close to me, hovering and all hot breath against me.

Heart racing, Jimin’s face leaned even closer and when I thought our lips were going to meet, he pulled back, clearly amused.

Opening my eyes, I saw his hand holding his grey sweatpants that I had taken out from the carrier and placed on the other side of the bed for him to wear. It turned out he was only using me to get to his pants when he could’ve just went to the other side of the bed.

I awkwardly looked at everywhere but him as he put his pants on. Why was I back to being shy with him? We’ve honestly did everything together..

Oh, I know why. I was currently trying hard to show I wasn’t affected since I was not in the mood while Jimin’s on the complete opposite pole, trying to tempt me with his all too hot body. I silently curse him in my head.

“Hmm. Where’s my shirt?”

I gulped when I turned to look at him. How on earth does he makes wearing only a sweatpants looked so delicious and so tempting- “You’re the one who didn’t pack them.” I told him accusingly.

He looked at me, smiling teasingly. He then lunged towards me all too sudden and I was screaming, desperately trying to pull him off my lap and pushing him aside. But my efforts went straight into the drain as his lips met mine in a soft lip-lock, patient yet urgent enough to try and persuade me to give in.

“Jimin-“ I tried calling him as soon as he pulled away for breath. “We need to talk.” I said. But the only response was him meeting my eyes for a very brief moment then leaning back forward to kiss me again, even more passionately and his tongue strikes to ask for permission which I let in almost immediately. How could I not with his expert tongue knowing exactly how my lips work although my brain is telling me to stop him now.

A soft moan involuntarily escaped me when I felt his hands on my neck, holding them firmly before his fingers slid my shoulder strap down, further revealing the curves of my breast.

“God-“ he pulled back and I blushed even more fervently. He was kneeling on top of me, thighs on each side of mine and his hands gripping my shoulders, his gaze hot and intense on mine. “How am I supposed to keep myself from taking you in anyway possibly could right here right now when you’re already flushed just by me kissing you and this god forsaken sexy dress of yours?”

I gulped at his words yet unable to deny the wetness pooling down there. “It’s not my fault..” I mumbled.

“The fuck it isn’t.” He growled. He pressed his forehead against mine, breathing slightly labored and whispered, “You will be the death of me, Kim Hana.”

I bit my lips.

“God I wanna bite those lips.” He said and I stopped immediately earning a chuckle from him.

“We need to talk.” I said softly.

His brought his right hand up to caress my cheeks then sighed. Then he lifted himself off me and sat beside me, leaning his head against the headboard too.

“Okay. What do you wanna talk about?” He asked.

I took a deep breath and fixing my shoulder strap, I turned to look at him, feeling nervous to finally address the elephant in the room. He was staring at me intently as if he was ready to hear whatever I was gonna say. Fuck- how do I start.

“Something simple..” he reminded, as always. As if he knew what I was thinking, as if he could read me like an open book.

“About Jungkook...” I began and saw his expression turned into distaste as soon as I mentioned him. “Why didn’t you tell me about him? About who he was?”

He ran a hands through his hair. He looked so handsome although his brows were creasing. “You told me he was your friend. I don’t want you to assume that I was trying to ruin your friendship or something. Plus.. I thought that I should give him a chance. Maybe he just wants to freely befriend people.. without the burden of his family name you know? And he’d tell you about his status on his own someday. Guess he didn’t.” He shrugged then looked at me as if trying to assess my reaction.

I swallowed bitterly. It’s kind of logical, really. In the end, it’s my own fault for wrongly trusting Jungkook. I bit my lip, remembering the amount of times Jimin tried to warn me about him. “Okay.. what about the proposal..? I mean, don’t get me wrong.. I love you.. I do, like really do-“

“I know.” He cut me and when I looked up at him he’s just fondly smiling at me and I can’t help to smile my shy smile back at him.

“I love you but.. it’s just too sudden.. Like I would’ve appreciated it if you’d tell me first in private maybe? I mean, given that I would say yes in a heartbeat but.. you know how I feel in front of so many people in the crowd.. it’s just.. weird.” I finished.

Still looking at me intently, he then took a deep breath. His fingers searched for mine and laced it together after he squeezed it.

“I’m sorry.. I know I should. And I know you must’ve been so surprised by everything. But my dad wanted me to announce right then and there during the party.” He rolled his eyes. “So I had no choice. I’m sorry.”

I remained silent, unsure of what to say next.

“It’s official, but it’s not official official. I know I still have to get permission from your mom..” he laughed.

I widened my eyes and hit him in the shoulder. “You’ll do that! I don’t want to get involved. She’d think I’m blackmailing you or something.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about that. Your mom loves me.” He winked.

Oh, I don’t doubt that. My mom is a definition of whipped for him. Who isn’t? Though I wouldn’t tell him that and feed more to his ego.

When his hands suddenly went towards my exposed arms, running them up and down giving me shivers, I looked at him.

He was staring at me with a slight curve upwards on the edge of his lips. I knew what that stare meant.

And when he closed the gap between our bodies to plant kisses on my neck, I knew I was right about his intention.

“Anything else you wanna ask, baby?” He asked with his dangerously low voice as he planted a wet, open mouth kiss on the nape of my neck, immediately making a surge of warm liquid pooling down there.

“Jimin- can we.. can we just sleep?” I asked though slightly breathless from his touch.

I thought he wasn’t going to stop but Jimin as always stunned me. He withdrew almost immediately and the loss of his touch was profound and that was a level of twisted.

“Okay.” He said simply then adjusting his own body to lean against the headboard.

“O..kay?”

He smiled at me. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do to you. We’re lovers. Not some random one night stand. Consent is important in a relationship.” He must’ve seen the look on my face as he suddenly lean in to plant a kiss on my forehead, hands moving to pull the duvet, further wrapping my body.

He then went towards the switch on his side and switched off the lights.

“Sleep tight baby.” He said and without thinking, I moved towards him and hugged him under the blanket and laid my head on top of his chest.

I couldn’t see him in the dark but I knew he was smiling down at me. He kissed the top of my head and that’s how I went to sleep, smiling like a complete loon realizing how just how lucky I am to have Jimin in my life.

Link to Masterlist

201218 11:49AM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnihateyouparkjimin #jimin fic #jimin smut #bts fic

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whysthatsofuckingfunnydickwad · 5 years

Text

Slow Hands

Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Here’s 5.2K words of basically pure smut. Blame Sara for this because she peer pressured me.

“Don’t forget, Rich, we’re going to Ben’s poetry slam tomorrow night,” Eddie said into the phone that was pressed between his shoulder and ear as he typed away on his laptop. He had a report that was due before the end of the weekend that he somehow needed to cram into his ever-tightening schedule, and unfortunately for his school work, Eddie’s attention span always seemed to be taken up by the extravagant Richie Tozier.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about my commitment to my dear Benjamin, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie said on the other end of the line while scribbling Eddie’s last minute reminder onto the calendar-templated dry erase board Mike had bought for him after the time Richie missed two exams in a row due to mixed up dates. “Do you remember what the dress code was? Stan might kill me if I show up underdressed to anything ever again.”

Eddie laughed softly to himself at the memory of Stan nearly bending a salad fork in his fist when Richie had showed up dressed casually for the annual Exotic Bird Protection fundraising banquet. Stan’s bird watching group had donated 100 dollars per chair for whomever Stan decided to bring with him as representation for the members in the New York area. Apparently the location, The London Club, had confused Richard, who showed up in skinny jeans and a flashy jean jacket to a black tie event.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with his words so laced with his smile that Richie could picture it perfectly in his mind if he closed his eyes, “Ben said that it’s casual dress, you should be fine.”

Their conversation continued and Eddie eventually abandoned his laptop, shutting it down and moving to lie on his bed. Talking to Richie came as easy as breathing; the pair had grown impossibly closer since their big move despite how large the city was. Eddie’s grown to realize that it’s easy to develop a feeling of being impossibly small somewhere as large as New York City. Nobody knows him and everybody is travelling in a different direction than he was; it’s breathtakingly new for a small town kid.

Eddie, who happened to be mid sentence, yawned and looked at the clock on his bedside table while finishing his thought, his eyes widened at the late time, he opted to ignore the number of hours he’d just spent on the phone with someone he’d seen all day and would see again for most of the day tomorrow.

“Ouch,” Richie laughed at Eddie’s impossibly adorable yawn, “Getting tired of me, Eds?”

“I got tired of you years ago, Richard,” Eddie said and giggled when Richie audibly gasped in mock offense. “Listen, man, I still have to shower before I go to bed, you know I hate leaving the apartment with wet hair.”

“You’re gonna take a shower? Are you kidding, without me? Eds, I’m wounded,” Richie said into the phone, expecting a humorous groan and brief goodnight, but that’s not what he got.

Instead, Eddie laughed heartily and said, “Okay then, why don’t you come and join me?”

Eddie held his breath, surprised at the sudden boldness that has taken hold of him, and just as he’s about to abandon his previous statement and blame the late hour, Richie, having swallowed thickly before even comprehending what Eddie had said, replied with a small laugh, “Only if I get to lather your girly soap on you.”

Eddie tried to come up with an excuse to leave the conversation before he could embarrass himself but before he could mutter anything, Richie, whose voice seemed to drop at least half an octave and had become filled with air, interrupted. “Tell me more, Eds.”

“I’d let you do more than just that, Rich,” Eddie said through the shaking release of his held breath. A shiver went up the lower half of his back and shot through his shoulders at the thought of Richie’s hands sliding through his hair, rubbing in the peppermint scented suds and massaging his scalp. He vividly imagined Richie gripping a fistful of his brunette locks and pulling his soapy hair back into the steaming stream of water to wash the foam down his bow arched back and Richie’s pale arm as the taller man sucked marks into the expanse his neck. Eddie could feel the turnings of lust growing hot in his stomach.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Eddie,” Richie whispered into the phone and Eddie nervously rubbed his hand against the terry cloth fabric covering the tops of his thighs, imagining Richie’s constantly confident touch as he spoke. Eddie was beginning to forget how to breathe.

“I want you to touch me,” Eddie whispered, unsure of what to say as his hand rose to rub against the firmness in his soft shorts, fingertips moving to dance along the hem. “Can you make me feel good and clean, Richie?”

Eddie bit his lips together and physically smacked his palm to his forehead at the words that had tumbled from his mouth. Dumb. Beverly would be disappointed in the awkwardness he was allowing to spill out of him like word vomit.

This time it was Richie releasing a shaking breath as his free hand moved slowly from gripping his freshly washed sheets to toying with the silver button on his jeans, taking his time with the fastenings that were pressed against his growing erection. “Oh, Eds,” Richie says lowly into the phone, “I can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before, but the things I want to do to you are far from clean.”

Flashes of Richie lying on his bed with his pants low on his hips, face flushed, eyes heavy with lust, and his hand rubbing against the crotch of his jeans shoot through Eddie’s head and he finally allows his slender fingers to dip into his shorts and briefs, coming into contact with the hot, velvety skin of his shaft. “Oh, g-god, Richie,” Eddie moans high pitched and needy as his fingers start to squeeze in waves around him, “I want you bad, Rich. I want- I w-want-.”

“You want me to make you feel good, baby?” Richie interrupts as he finally drags his fly down and pushes the denim pants down his lean thighs. “You want me to touch you all over, Eds, every last inch of your gorgeous skin?” Richie’s voice dropped to a low, almost unsure whisper, “Are you touching yourself, Eddie?”

The sudden breaching thought that Eddie is gasping as he touches himself while his best friend is on the other end of the phone threatens to bring him crashing to earth with fear. The thought terrifies him for the briefest of moments, until he hears Richie moaning softly on the other end of the line. More images spark in Eddie’s mind of Richie gripping his length in his pale hand, the dark hair travelling from the base of his prominent cock to his navel where his shirt has risen to expose his stomach. Heat pools heavily in Eddie’s stomach at the thought of Richie getting off to him just a couple of blocks over and he felt his abdomen contract as he neared completion. Throwing caution and fear to the curb and abandoning the taunting thoughts that could possibly bring him down from his high, Eddie moans into the phone, “Please, Richie.”

Richie’s skin had grown hot and red as he started to perspire with anticipation, he sucks in a breath and grips his hard on tightly, “Eds” he says, breath hitching, voice weak with lust and anxiety from his pressing question, “Can I come over?”

Eddie moves his hand from his length to grasp the soft sheets at his side with white knuckles as shivers violently racked his body at the loss of touch so close to climaxing. Eddie’s cock twitched against his belly as he sucked in a couple of deep breaths, attempting to calm himself down enough to answer Richie’s question. He could practically hear Richie’s anxiety in the silence over the line.

With a stuttering exhale, Eddie whispered, “Yes.”

In high school, Eddie had been on the track team, ditching his inhaler once and for all, and worked his way up to setting the state of Maine’s high school records for the 200 meter straight dash and the two mile run. It took Eddie nine and a half minutes to run two miles. Now Richie, who had never joined any sports in high school, sprinted down two and a half miles of the ever awake streets of New York City and set a buzzing new record for the time it took for Richie to get to Eddie’s studio apartment. Richie was knocking on Eddie’s door twelve minutes after having hung up the phone in his apartment.

Eddie jumped when he heard the knocking; his fingers had been twisting together with anxiety as he waited for Richie to arrive and now that Richie was there, just on the other side of the door, they had stopped fidgeting and began slightly trembling. Eddie looked at himself in the large mirror he had hanging on the wall, he already looked fucked up; his hair sticking up in different directions, cheeks flushed, chest heaving under the soft white V-neck he wore, and his still erect cock straining against the fabric of his red shorts.

When he opened his apartment door, Richie looked just as wrecked as Eddie had imagined, and for a moment Eddie allowed his eyes to trail over Richie in his crumpled state against the doorframe, the taller man still panting from his run. When their eyes met, Richie swallowed thickly at the lust pooled in Eddie’s doe eyes and parted his thin lips, “I almost got hit by a taxi. I mean, I guess I kind of did, I was on the hood for a second. I think the guy started yelling at me but I didn’t stop.”

Eddie laughed and let the smile continue to tug at the corners of his mouth as he bit his lip and looked up shyly through his lashes, “Only you would get hit by a taxi and still run.”

“I think I was running towards something pretty important,” Richie whispered as he finally moved into Eddie’s personal space, letting the door softly swing shut behind them. Almost methodically, Eddie’s hands moved to hold the back of Richie’s neck and tangle in his dark curls as he picked Eddie up. Eddie allowed his strong, tanned thighs to wrap around Richie’s narrow hips before Richie set him down on the closest surface, which happened to be the counter that separates the kitchen and the rest of Eddie’s living space, crowding him almost instantly. “Eds,” Richie said upon an exhale.

Their foreheads rested together as Richie moved to stand between Eddie’s thighs, hands sliding up soft flesh before meeting the terrycloth of Eddie’s shorts and watching his fingertips disappear underneath the cuffs. Eddie, heart pounding violently within his chest, moved in until his nose bumped lightly against Richie’s freckled cheek and hesitated before slotting his lips against the slight roughness of Richie’s chapped ones.

Richie, whose heart was pounding in his ears and whose cock was straining furiously against his zipper, almost crumpled under the intensity of the chaste kiss and tried steadying his shaking hands by roughly groping Eddie’s upper thigh, hands almost lost entirely underneath the fabric of his shorts. Eddie gasped slightly into Richie’s mouth at the rough nature of his hands, which allowed Richie to smoothly slide their tongues together.

With soft fabric bunched against his slim wrists, Richie’s hands moved around to take handfuls of Eddie’s ass and pulled the smaller boy closer to him. Richie pulled back to whisper into Eddie’s ear, “I need you to tell me if it gets to be too much, Eds.”

Eddie nodded and Richie reattached his lips to the addicting flavour of strawberry Chapstick and Eddie Kaspbrak. Pulling Eddie’s hips forward again to meet his own, Richie groaned deeply into Eddie’s eager mouth as the tanned brunette pushed at Richie’s jacket, the denim bunching at his elbows before getting stuck. Eddie’s pelvis meeting his own sent electricity up Richie’s spine, causing the hairs on his body to stand tall and gooseflesh to rise from his pale skin. Pulling away from the kiss took all the physical self control Richie had over his body and then some, feeling cold as soon as his hands left Eddie’s body.

The view, to say the least, was worth it. Eddie’s hands were braced against the hard counter, shoulders slightly hunched, rising and falling with his panting breaths, his thighs were parted with his hard on trapped and prominent within his shorts, legs dangling off the edge of the counter. His mouth was red and swollen, lips glossed with Richie’s saliva, eyes glazed over with longing, and a blush stained his cheeks and chest. Richie had never seen anything quite as perfect.

“Holy fucking fuck,” Richie muttered before he tore his jacket off the rest of the way and he stripped his T-shirt from his body, causing the blush already on Eddie’s face and chest to deepen from pink to crimson. Following Richie’s lead, Eddie shyly lifted his V-neck over his head and threw it to the floor. Before he could push his overgrown bangs from his face Richie was pulling Eddie’s slight body off of the counter and carrying him towards the queen sized mattress that Eddie had resting on a box spring just below the bay window across the room.

“Richie,” Eddie moaned while tightening his legs around Richie’s slim waist and burying his face in his neck while one of his hands carded through Richie’s hair. It took Richie no less than three steps to trip over his previously discarded jacket, toppling forward and half landing on top of Eddie.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie said, scrambling to get off of the shorter man and check for injuries, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mea-”

Before Richie could ramble on Eddie pushed the trashmouth off of him, the lanky man landing on his back what felt like seconds before Eddie was climbing on top of him, knees spread on either side of Richie’s hips. Planting his hands on Richie’s chest, one over his ribs, and the other against his breastbone just above the other man’s racing heart; Eddie ground his hips down, plush rear meeting Richie’s desperate and clothed cock. “Bev taught me some wrestling tricks, and yeah,” Eddie stated without stopping his merciless grinding against a moaning Richie, whose hands had settled on Eddie taut thighs, “I will use them against you.”

Richie couldn’t help the whole hearted laughed that punched its way out of his chest, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed, “Be careful Eds, mental imagery of you and Bev rolling around together on the ground might just make me cream my jeans.”

Eddie scoffed and, almost thoughtlessly, reached forward and harshly twisted one of Richie’s pink nipples between his thumb and index finger. Richie screeched at the pleasure-pain that coursed through his body through the small peak and bucked his hips up against Eddie sharply, body arching off the ground at a backbreaking angle. Eddie pressed his bottom against Richie’s crotch to hold him down as he continued his slow torture. Experimentally, Eddie moved until both of his hands were placed over Richie’s pectorals, thumbs rubbing tortuously slow at the aroused buds, one slightly bruising from Eddie’s previous attack.

Richie, who was now moaning with abandon, felt the growing sensation of peaking building inside of him, beginning to squirm underneath Eddie and growing desperate for more. “Oh, god,” Richie moaned, his voice laced with need as Eddie’s small thumbs continued their stroking movements, “Eddie, I’m all for nipple play and cumming untouched, but I don’t wanna jizz my pants. Not tonight.”

The pleading tone in Richie’s voice left Eddie with a satisfied feeling deep in his gut, one he would have to address at a later date because as soon as Eddie let up, Richie all but picked him up and threw him onto the pillow top mattress. The bounce that came after his initial impact with the bed left Eddie in a fit of giggles that hadn’t died down by the time Richie had crawled on top of him and when he was finally able to calm himself, he looked up to see Richie staring at him with complete adoration.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie whispered and his large hand settled on Eddies rouge cheek, thumb stroking the soft flesh there. Before Eddie could speak, as it seems to often be, Richie whispered again, a smirk taking over his face, “Nah, I couldn’t be. Dream Eddie is never this pretty.”

Eddie didn’t have the words, instead reaching down towards the waist of Richie’s jeans, nimble fingers toying with the button until it popped open, exposing the fly of the jeans and the ever-thickening trail of hair that lead from Richie’s navel to his cock. With one hand Eddie, torturously slow, dragged the zipper of Richie’s jeans down, almost leaving the man over him exposed, with the other he pulled Richie in by the back of his neck for another chaste kiss.

“Please, Richie,” Eddie whispered as Richie kissed from his mouth and down his sharp jaw, hands pushing languidly at the denim at Richie’s hips, “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Richie nodded against Eddie’s skin, mouth leaving small red marks in its wake as he travelled down Eddie’s exposed chest and worshipped the familiar skin he’d never had the liberty of touching. Eddie arched towards Richie’s mouth and whispered small pleads into the air as Richie’s mouth reached the hem of his shorts, teeth biting at the material. “Let me see you, Eds,” Richie moaned and Eddie nodded, pleads increasing in volume.

“Richie,” Eddie thoughtlessly continued to nod, eyes shut and hands pulling at the soft fabric of his pale bed sheets. “Please touch me.”

Richie’s hands gripped the red fabric and started slowly tugging the shorts down Eddie’s sculpted, hairless legs, kissing the newly revealed skin of Eddie’s hip. Once Eddie’s cock was free, resting upwards against his stomach, Richie pulled Eddie’s shorts the rest of the way off and discarded them without concern of their landing point. Without a moment’s hesitation, Richie took Eddie’s length in his hand and placed his mouth along the side, kissing the tender flesh. “Eds?” Richie started, receiving a broken moan from the man above him, “I wanna suck your cock.”

“Fuck,” Eddie yelled when Richie’s tongue flattened itself against Eddie’s member and dragged itself to the tip where pre-cum was pearling and dripping in rivers. The salty taste of Eddie left Richie desperate, mouth encasing the head and swallowing the shaft down his throat. Eddie impulsively bucked up, hand flying into Richie’s curls and his brows knitting together as he lifted his head to watch Richie’s mouth experimentally engulf his cock.

Continuing to gently buck into Richie’s mouth, Eddie felt his stomach heating up at the feeling of Richie’s slightly crooked teeth scraping against the delicate skin of his cock. Blindly, Richie reached towards the night stand placed beside Eddie’s bed, wrapped his fingers around the knob of the small drawer, pulling it open and grabbing the bottle of lube that resided there. The hand that had been wrapped around the hairless base of Eddie’s cock moved to pour lubricant along the long fingers of Richie’s other hand, once satisfied Richie tossed it to the side and listened the bottle clatter to the floor. “Christ, Richie,” Eddie said as his bucking started to grow reckless and choppy, pleasure coursing through his shaking body.

Eddie roughly pulled Richie’s head away from his crotch by his curls just as his fingers started exploring Eddie’s puckered and desperate entrance. The overwhelming sensation of Richie’s perfectly filthy mouth and the breaching feeling of being stretched open left Eddie with a tight knot of pleasure in his stomach that was all too close to coming undone. Richie immediately tensed and froze every part of his body that touched Eddie and started to shake with fear that he had done something wrong. Eddie felt Richie’s rigid body before he saw the worry in his magnified eyes.

“Are you okay?” Richie asked, lips swollen and coated with spit.

Eddie nodded and Richie visibly relaxed but didn’t continue his exploration of the naked man’s sensitive hole and Eddie felt the tension in his stomach from his impending orgasm leave him, sheepishly Eddie whispered, “I was going to cum.”

The blush that covered Eddie’s body darkened and Richie, keeping intense eye contact with Eddie, allowed his sheathed finger, already two knuckles deep, to curl and twist within the warmth that was Eddie.

“That's kind of the point, Spaghetti,” Richie smirked before lowering his head to pepper kisses and hickies over Eddie’s tanlined thighs, fingers slowly working their way in and out of Eddie’s tight body.

Eddie moaned and clutched the bed sheet, pulling the taut fabric from the corners of the mattress. As Richie added fingers to his relentless attack on Eddie’s entrance, Richie felt his heart begin to speed up in anticipation.

It's taken them upwards of a decade to get to this point. Years of pining had lead to the moment in time where Richie Tozier would brutally fuck Eddie open with his astonishingly long fingers. Richie occupied his mouth by continuing to suck at the head of Eddie’s abused cock, drool cascading down his shaft and causing Eddie’s skin to erupt with goosebumps. “Richie,” Eddie gasped, white knuckling his sheets, “Fuck, Richie, just fuck me. Please. Oh god.”

Richie pulled away from Eddie until their bodies no longer touched. The smaller man, who laid before his best friend naked and shameless, arched his back off the bed while trying to follow Richie’s warmth. Staring down at Eddie, Richie began pushing the denim jeans off of his hips, slowly exposing the brightly patterned briefs underneath, and Eddie, who was sweaty and panting, began to shake with the desperation and anticipation he felt fluttering in his stomach.

Once Richie had kicked off his shoes, socks, and jeans, he climbed over Eddie with a grace he hadn’t ever seen Richie possess. His glasses had started to slide down the bridge of his narrow nose and, unconsciously, Eddie reached up to pull them off of the man above him but before he could Richie grabbed his wrist. “I wanna be able to see you, Eds,” he whispered, hot breath fanning over Eddie’s features, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Eddie felt a lump forming in his throat and pulled Richie down to press their lips together, stopping any unwanted whimpers in his throat from escaping. The kiss grew and swelled until the pair were frantically feeling each other, as if scared the other would disappear. Eddie’s hands roamed the uncharted plains of Richie’s back, running over the horizontal stretch marks that formed from his junior year growth spurt that brought him from 5’6 to over 6 foot. His nimble fingers danced up the knobs of Richie’s spine and came down over his shoulder blades while dragging his nails against his pale skin. Richie trembled as Eddie’s fingers dipped under the elastic band of Richie’s briefs, digging into the soft flesh of his ass.

Richie shot up, Eddie’s hands still on his hips, and slid his underwear down, shucking them off of his ankles with a slight kick. Eddie’s thumbs rubbed over the protruding bone of Richie’s hip and flicked his eyes down to Richie’s erection briefly before looking back up and into the towering man's eyes. Richie leaned forward again, placing his weight down on his bony elbows and pressing his nose against Eddie’s, the smaller mans hands moving to hold Richie’s biceps. Richie’s lips softly pressed against Eddie’s again before he pulled away.

Eddie’s legs were spread wide as Richie adjusted above him, knees bending to cage Richie’s hips while he leaned up on his elbows to chase Richie’s mouth. “Eds,” Richie said as he brought his hips down to meet Eddie’s, their erections pressed together hotly against Eddie’s pelvis. “Eds, I don’t have a-“

“I don’t care. I want you inside me,” Eddie whimpered as Richie continued to grind their cocks together. “I’m clean.”

“Eds, are you sure?”

Eddie nodded frantically, bringing one hand up to Richie’s curls and pulling him forward. Their foreheads pressed together and Eddie swallowed thickly, “I’ve never wanted anyone but you, Rich. I need you.”

Richie’s brows furrowed and brought his hand down to his manhood, wrapping his long fingers around the base and bringing his length to press down between the soft flesh of Eddie’s ass. The head of his cock pushed against the puckered hole and Eddie dropped down from his elbows to throw an arm over his eyes and use his free hand to grip the sheets that bunched below him. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Eds.”

“Rich,” Eddie moaned, tapping Richie’s arm that continued to rub the leaking head of his cock over Eddie’s entrance. “Richie, you threw the lube somewhere.”

“Fuck,” Richie shouted as he jumped off of Eddie, the smaller man giggling as Richie ran around the bed, his pale, and surprisingly supple, ass shaking as he moved. Once Richie found the lube, he ran back over to Eddie, a smile pulling at his lips as he listened to Eddie laugh.

For a moment, Richie felt his heart ache at the sight of Eddie. A tangled mess in the sheets of his bed, with a million dollar smile spread across his face and all the fondness and love Richie could ever hope for in his gaze. Richie felt the image settle in his heart as he climbed back over Eddie. “You’re so beautiful, Eds,” he said, free hand moving to Eddie’s cheek, “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Richie moved until his hips rested between Eddie’s thighs and buried his face in the nape of the smaller boys neck. His mouth sucked at the sensitive skin there and, with his free hand, lubed his cock to the sound of Eddie moaning beneath him.

Pressing himself against Eddie’s entrance, Richie slowly pushed his cock into Eddie and began to tremble at the feeling of warmth enveloping him. “Fuck,” Eddie moaned as Richie’s cock stretched him out and he dug his nails into the skin of the taller mans shoulders. Richie’s mouth moved from Eddie’s neck up to his jaw, kissing and licking at the soft angles of his face.

Once Richie’s hips rested against Eddie’s, his cock fully nestled inside of the smaller man, Richie looked up to meet Eddie’s eyes, hovering above him and putting his weight on his elbows. The pair stayed silent for a moment, Eddie’s hands roamed Richie’s collarbones and neck while Richie’s gripped the loose sheet beneath him.

Eddie let out a shaking breath before moving his hips slightly, feeling the drag of Richie’s cock and whimpering. “Fuck me, Richie.”

Without hesitating, Richie pulled his hips back almost completely before slamming them back against Eddie’s, shaking the man below him with the force of it. The eruption of pleasure punched a shout out of Eddie’s chest and his cock, which rested against his pale stomach, began leaking pre-cum in rivers that flowed across his ivory skin.

“Fuck, Ed’s,” Richie moaned, eyes squeezing shut as rivets of pleasure traveled up his spine. “Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so fucking good. Holy shit.”

Eddie moaned and pulled Richie’s chest down to meet his as their hips met rhythmically. The smaller man was panting and letting out whines as Richie slammed into him, moving his entire body up the mattress. Slowly, Eddie’s hands travelled up to grip Richie’s unruly and sweaty hair in a vice, jerking his head to the side to meet his lips in a slick and messy kiss.

The man above him moaned and, despite the sweat covering his skin, broke out in goosebumps at the tingling sensation fluttering down from where Eddie’s hands gripped him. Richie moved his mouth from Eddie’s and trailed open mouthed kisses along his jaw and down his neck before sucking a dark purple mark into the skin his collarbone rested beneath. The pinching feeling left Eddie squirming and tears began to pool in his dark eyes, the sensation becoming too much as Richie shifted and began hitting his prostate with every thrust of his hips.

“Right there, Richie,” he yelled out, back arching to chase the feeling. “Right there, fuck me.”

Richie laughed weakly against Eddie’s shoulder and slowed his hips, “That’s kind of what I’m doing, Eds.”

Eddie moaned, freely and slack-jawed, “You fuck me so good, Rich.”

“Yeah?” Richie groaned, moving to balance on his hands to look down at Eddie as he rocked his hips into the man below him. “You like how I fuck you, baby? Nice and deep?”

Eddie nodded his head as Richie’s hand moved to cup the side of his rouge race, thumb dipping into his mouth and grazing his tongue. “Keep going, Richie. Please,” he whispered as Richie thumb moved to trace his bruised lips, “I’m so close.”

Richie began to slam his cock harder into Eddie with a steady but brutal pace, slim hips meeting the soft sides of Eddie’s thighs as the smaller man held Richie close with his legs. “I want you to cum without me touching your dick, Eddie.”

Eddie whimpered, his cock twitched while his balls ached and tensed with the need to release. The coil in his stomach tightened and, as Richie’s cock continued to meet his prostate in a brutal attack, he felt his remaining resolve start to shake, working him up as moans and tears began to flow freely from him. “Shit, Richie. Shit, I love you so much. I love you so fucking much, keep fucking me. Please, please Rich.”

Richie’s eyes squeezed shut and he felt his composure snap, his hips stuttering and his cum starting to shoot out of him and into Eddie’s warmth. “Eds, Eds, Eds,” he moaned with each thrust, “Fuck, I love you, Eds. So fucking much.”

At the feeling of Richie’s warmth and the confession falling from his lips, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and began to spill ropes of cum against his stomach and Richie’s chest, arching as Richie’s hips continued to work him through his orgasm.

The stars and lights behind Eddie’s eyes began to fade out as Richie collapsed against him and mouthed at his neck, moaning praise incoherently. Eddie’s legs, still wrapped around Richie, trapped the other man on top of him as his hands trailed along the angry red marks that marred his back.

The pair come down from their high, sweaty and sticky, wrapped in each other and the late night New York bliss.

“Hey,” Richie whispered against his skin, still breathless, “I love you.”

Eddie felt more tears gently leak out of his eyes, hugging Richie closer to his body, “I love you, too.”

“Do you think,” Richie started, unsure of how to finish, he took a moment to think it over before huffing out a lazy laugh, “Do you think we should take that shower now?”

Eddie laughed below Richie, the force of his giggles jostling Richie. “Definitely.”

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #smut #au #reddie smut #i guess #im probably going to hell #lmao #fml #I havent read this in its entirety #this is my first smut go easy #haters go home #it #they gay #blame sara #um #yuh #sky writes

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