#also i’m laughing my ass off because this guy was my fwb heavy on the f and i literally bailed him out of jail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lacharcutiere · 3 years

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ur my favorite drug & my worst hangover [nsfw 18+, terushima yūji]

5,9k words

✯haikyuu!! masterlist✯

winter sem break brings the new year, & a few other new developments too.

smut, tiny bit of angst, fwb, fluff // quit - lil aaron & travis barker. god this song goes so hard

the way all i talk abt is how much i love teru but have nothing to show for it— yeah we’re gonna fix that. man i love him

☾𓆙𓂻

— SOBER

the soft hum of the tv in the background slowly fades into your awareness as you blink blearily awake, almost forgetting where you are for a second.

you’re in yūji’s living room, duh. your semestral break has not been nearly as interesting as either of you’d hoped: instead, you’ve both succumbed to alternating between each other’s childhood homes, binging netflix and random youtube videos and eating chips and tubs of ice cream late into the night, as has been your custom for years.

it’s dim but for the glow of the screen, and it’s kind of chilly in here now, even with you wrapped up in a hoodie. (yours, not yūji’s. you only borrow his in emergencies.)

he’s not next to you now, but his footsteps—you know them by now: quick and kind of heavy but not overbearingly loud—are entering the room again, and you feel the sofa cushions dip a little as he retakes his seat next to you.

“hey,” he says, smiling, “you’re awake.”

“hmmph,” you mumble, sitting upright to stretch your back. “what time is it?”

“uh.” he squints at the digital clock next to the tv. “like one?”

“‘m cold.”

“me too.”

“‘nd tired.”

“you just woke up?”

“i’m tired,” you whine.

yūji groans. “you’re really gonna make me go to sleep this early?”

“you don’t have to sleep, but i will.”

“yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “but who’s gonna keep me company then?”

“i dunno,” you shoot back, “text tetsu or something. he’s probably still up.”

he rolls his eyes but relents, standing from the sofa. “fine.” and he holds out a hand to help you up, which you don’t take.

“i can do shit for myself,” you joke, rolling your eyes.

“right.”

—

it’s not much warmer in his room despite the thermostat supposedly being set to an acceptable temperature, but at least the sleeping bag on the floor next to yūji’s bed is insulated, and he’s given you a couple extra blankets for which you’re grateful. the biting chill of january does not fuck around.

so you nestle yourself into a little cocoon of linens and pillows and pull your hood up, curling into a ball in an effort to conserve your body heat. you hear him laugh a little as he watches you.

“what?”

“nothing.”

there’s the light hum of a phone ringing a few times, and that little beep as tetsu picks up the facetime call.

sleep clouds your senses to the background music of stifled laughter and loud whispers and the occasional static of yūji’s phone speaker.

— BUT U PULLED ME CLOSER

the next few minutes, hour—you have no idea—pass just like that, with you drifting languidly in and out of sleep and the sounds of yūji and tetsurō’s voices audible but incomprehensible in the background.

last you remember, you’re slipping back under again, hearing tetsu through the staticky iphone speaker.

and then you wake up again because you’re fucking freezing and it’s quiet and the lights are off, except for the little reading light mounted to the headboard of yūji’s bed. you sit up on your elbows, craning your neck, and see that he’s still up, lying on his stomach with his phone dimly illuminating his face.

“what time’s it?” you mumble.

“uh... 2:38.” he pauses. “y’alright?”

“cold,” you say.

he locks his phone then, and he just looks at you kind of blankly and maybe a little mockingly? except it must not be mocking; it must be something else, because he’s just kind of... studying you.

you look back up at him expectantly. “what?” you say.

he sighs, kind of rolls his eyes, turns away from the light to hide the little smile playing on his lips. “come on up here.” he scoots over and pats the spot next to him.

thankful for an extra source of body heat and blankets and pillows, you shove yourself up off the ground and shuffle over to the bed.

it’s kind of funny, the way you’re basically adults now and yet your relationship’s still fundamentally the same as it was when you met years ago.

—

duh, yūji hates that. it’s true, that whole thing about how “every one of your guy friends has thought about fucking you at some point.” it’s true, at least for him.

and there’s something electric in how you haven’t slept next to him in months because you’ve both been busy with school, and now you’re back here. back here, where it feels like you belong.

there’s something deep in his chest that’s set aflame by the way you laugh and let him tuck the comforter over you; the way your sweatpant-covered legs brush against his own underneath it.

he wants to touch you.

he wants to wrap his hand around your thigh and pull it over his own; to run his fingertips up the length of your arm and make you shiver; to snake his around your waist and pull your head into his chest.

maybe he will once you’re asleep, he figures. once his pride can’t be hurt because you don’t have to know.

except... except he’d let it be hurt for you. without a moment’s hesitation. he would shatter it himself for you, would let you take him in your fingers and rip him to pieces too small to be puzzled back together.

because maybe he doesn’t just want you. maybe he loves you.

but even he, completely truthfully, doesn’t know.

he’s got a sneaking suspicion that he does, though, because he’s rarely confused and this is an enigma he can’t quite seem to decipher, no matter what he tries.

it’s absurd, too, he realizes laying on his back next to you, how suddenly he’s afraid to touch you. because the two of you have always been touchy, that’s just you. you’re two halves; you’re so similar. you’ve been attached at the hip since childhood—why is it different now, now that he wants that more than anything?

so here he is, spiraling in this conundrum of feelings, when it’s cut short by you, tiredly whining, “yūji.”

“what?” he sort of feigns annoyance.

“‘m cold.”

“and?”

and. and his breath catches because you roll over and latch onto him. and he brings his arms around your shoulders and holds you to his chest.

so close, and yet so far away.

and he shudders as you lay one hand flat on his chest. it belongs there forever.

you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and inhale his scent and his brain short-circuits.

has she done this before?

and mostly unconscious, you mumble, “—warm. y’re pretty’.” his eyes go wide.

“what?”

your arms tighten around him, and he’d hate to admit it, but it’s setting him off. he’s... a little hard.

a hand settles itself on your thigh, the one that’s draped over his legs, and he pushes it downward a little, so that it’s not resting next to the rising erection in his pajama pants.

god, he wants to fuck you so badly right now, he wants for you to feel him throbbing between your legs as you whimper against his skin. but he also wants you to want him.

miraculously, a little sigh escapes your lips at the touch. so he doesn’t move his hand.

“feels nice,” you whisper.

so he decides to test the waters, and squeezes gently. you giggle sleepily.

inhibitions dissipating for a moment, his stomach leaps to his chest and he snakes that hand up over your hip, consciously avoiding your ass just in case, and rests it on your back, rubbing up and down slowly.

his chest constricts as you snuggle even closer to him. and then your leg moves back up and your thigh nudges his crotch.

your eyes snap open and he inhales sharply.

and then you’re propped up on your elbow, leaning over him.

he curses himself for forgetting to turn off the light; the flush in his cheeks is obvious.

half terrified and half excited, he watches as your face breaks into a wide, shit-eating grin.

“what?” he breathes.

your eyes narrow; a look of mischief he’s so familiar with, one that’s often mirrored on his own features. (it’s not now.)

“yūji,” you say, singsong and bright, “what’s this?”

and—oh, god, oh, fuck—you bring a hand down to rest on his dick, tenting in his pajamas.

he doesn’t know what to say to you.

“i— uhm—”

“hmm,” you hum. “y’ alright?”

he clears his throat, nods. “are— uh, are you?”

“mhm,” you laugh, wide awake now. “yūji...” you pause. he can’t stand it; he needs to know what happens next, needs to know what’s fanning the flames behind your eyes.

oh god. oh god, all he leaves is a breath in between and then you’re throwing your leg over him again and, fuck, you’re straddling him. he lets out a shaky breath, voice tight as he chokes out, “what are you doing?”

the smile is gone from your face now, replaced with something softer, something lustful. your hands move to his shoulders to balance yourself as you grind your hips down, and a low ahh slips out of him.

it’s just like that, just your clothed bodies rubbing together. he comes embarrassingly quickly in his boxers, but he lets you ride his thigh until you finish as recompense.

afterward, he excuses himself and cleans himself off in the bathroom. when he comes back, you’re sound asleep again.

that’s all that happens.

— UR GONNA FUCK ME UP

following that, everything proceeds as it had before. neither of you bother to speak of it, but nothing even seems off between you at all. it’s as if it never happened.

or maybe, yūji sometimes allows himself to think as he touches himself to the memory in the middle of nights when you’re not together, it’s like it was meant to happen.

what a wonderful illusion that is.

because he knows it won’t work, and if you ever thought about him like that, you would know, too.

the two of you have watched each other fall in love—get dumped, ghost people, whatever—several times over the past few years. he remembers your first boyfriend, your last year of middle school: the guy had been a mutual friend that you’d been crushing on for months. and yet, when you’d finally become a thing, it had taken no more than a couple of weeks for you to grow uninterested and dump him.

it’s not like he hasn’t done similar things in the past.

and it’s not like some people who’ve dated either of you haven’t had better luck; there have been several who have been the ones to break your hearts.

but both of you have yet to have maintained a long-term relationship, and neither of you have kept in contact with many of your exes.

he doesn’t want to be another one of those, and he certainly doesn’t want you to be, either.

—

it’s maybe a week after that night when you pick him up to go get takeout and ice cream.

that, in itself, is a pretty normal thing.

but then you’re sitting in your car, and between spoonfuls of mocha chip and hot caramel, you say, “so i saw this thing.”

“hm?” he responds, his mouth still full.

“your aura is striking, dude,” you quote. there’s a pause as you try to suppress a giggle. and then: “can i kiss you deeply, bro?”

he snorts and jokes, “anytime you want.” and he really hopes that you take his tone at face value, but he also knows you way better than that.

so he’s only half surprised when you actually do. half surprised, and wholly in awe.

your hands are in each other’s hair. it’s quick—feverish, but quick—and the first thing you say when you pull back is, “tastes like sugar.”

he laughs again, unsure of what move to make next. “yeah?”

and then you’re... shy? because you look away from him, back down to the cup of ice cream in your lap, and you say, “you feel good.” it’s so low that it’s almost unintelligible. but he hears you.

both your faces are burning when you look back up at him. “should we talk about that?”

“‘bout what? kissing? ‘s not the first time.”

it isn’t—he kissed you once in middle school, because there was this other girl that he’d thought was pretty, and he wanted to make her jealous. it hadn’t worked; she’d just thought the two of you were together, and a teacher had scolded you for pda. but at least it had been a fun story to laugh at for a while after.

this is obviously different, though, and you both know that. this kiss wasn’t to make anyone jealous. this one was for yourselves.

and anyway, that’s not what you meant by that.

“no,” you say. “the um... last week. at your place.”

“oh, yeah.”

“should we, um, do you wanna talk about it?”

“d’you?”

you shrug.

“alright,” he says. pauses. “so... what was that about?”

and you almost laugh incredulously. “you’re asking me?”

he stares blankly.

“you’re the one who got a boner when we were cuddling, yūji. as if we’ve never done that before.” you notice the mortified look on his face, and your expression softens and your voice lowers. “you wanna tell me what that was about? you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

and he laughs nervously and says, “no, no, ‘s fine. i was just kinda horny, that’s all. i haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while, y’know?”

you give him a sardonic grin. “and that’s why it only took you, like, three minutes to come?”

“yeah... yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

a moment passes where you stop and think for a little, and then you turn back to look at him. “it was, uh, good, though. like, objectively. it was good.”

it’s his turn to flash a grin at you: “‘course it was. it’s me.”

“and me.”

“shoulda won the sex gods superlative in last year’s yearbook.”

“ha.” another thing crosses your mind: “and now look at us. too busy with school to even have time to fuck anyone.”

yūji doesn’t say anything, so you do it for him.

you start out carefully. “but...”

“but?”

“do you— i mean. we’ve got, like, what? three weeks left before we go back? and we’re stuck here. and— and we already hang out like every single day anyway, and. uh. and it was objectively good.”

“are you—”

“and i’ve known you for years. come on. there’s, like, nothing i could do to embarrass myself around you anymore.”

friends with benefits. you’re suggesting that you temporarily be friends with benefits.

“and it wasn’t weird after last time,” you add. “i think.”

“hm,” he says, “yeah, no, it wasn’t.”

his first instinct is to say no, to tell you it’s a bad idea. but as he thinks about it more, he realizes that you’re kind of right. and anyway, what is the worst that could happen? because he’s pretty sure he’s far gone enough for you that falling a little further wouldn’t change a thing. even if he weren’t, he’d never think of hurting you intentionally.

and, he figures, he’d hardly mind being hurt by you.

—

that is how you end up back in his bed an hour later—his parents are out on a date this evening; you’ve got until a few hours past sundown to fuck and clean yourselves off and make it look like you’ve been eating and talking and watching tv the whole time.

outside of the guise of midnight impulses, it is a strange—but also strangely pleasant—thing to be having sex with your best friend.

there’s no pretense, hardly any need to keep up appearances (at least, for you). you’re not strangers only concerned with your own pleasure; you know each other. despite never actually having done this before, he already knows what you like, and vice versa.

it’s nice.

it’s nice to hear him laugh when you whine for him to stop being so gentle, vanilla-ass bitch, only to have him call you a “horny little—” (to which you respond, no, you.)

and it’s nice to sleep with someone who reads all the cues you give him without you even needing to say anything.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and... it might not be just because of the dynamic between you two, or the fact that you don’t have to be afraid to tell him what you like and what you don’t—the fact that you don’t even have to tell him at all.

it’s nice. for you. and it’s hell for him.

it’s hell for him to have to hold back all the sweet nothings he wants to whisper in your ear—he’s restricted to you like that, huh, baby? and fuuuck and god, you’re so fucking tight, and he knows you’re into it, but he wants to be treating you like a princess right now. he wants to call you his, wants to whisper, tell me you’re all mine against your bare shoulders, wants to tell you he loves you.

so... he does love you.

but he can’t say that. he knows he can keep you around, but you’re not his to keep.

—

it continues like that for the next several days: you fuck, it’s good sex, and he’ll touch himself to the memories if you’re not there: memories of how you taste, of the softness of your skin, of you with your legs around his waist and your bare chests pressed together, damp and warm with sweat.

it is so gratifying, and even more painful.

and then, one day, as he’s fucking you in your childhood bedroom—all white walls covered in sketches and colorful postcards you’ve accumulated over the years—something is slightly off.

there’s something about it that feels more intimate than the other times, and it goes slower than before. it’s not all lust and clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor and bodies shoved hurriedly into mattresses.

you kiss him for a long time before any clothing comes off, and you keep pulling him back to your lips as he thrusts into you. you’re not urging him faster, more, harder; you let him keep a steady pace and arch your back into the sheets as you lie underneath him.

it hits him as you come down from your orgasm and writhe in his arms, softly moaning, “god, yūji, i l—”

he stops.

“don’t say that,” he says.

still shaking and catching your breath, you respond, “what?”

“just don’t.” but his tone is casual, and so you don’t think much of it.

—

you don’t hook up every time you hang out, and yeah. you were right. it’s hardly different than before. except, isn’t it?

you’re sitting on opposite sides of your sofa one morning after your parents have left for work—he slept over the previous night, but you didn’t have sex. you’d spent it laughing over the dumbest things and blasting music as you drove around without a destination.

your’re sitting with your knees pulled against your chest, scrolling lazily on your phone while you and yūji eat handfuls of cereal straight from the box between you.

it’s mostly quiet for once; comfortably silent. neither of you have ever really been a morning person.

— BUT U KNOW I LIKE IT

the ice cracks a little when he stops shoving your hand away to grab himself another handful of cereal. you notice, and then you wonder if you always noticed little things like that, because it feels kind of weird to. not that you mind.

meanwhile, yūji watches you, studying the way your hair falls messily around your face, the way one sleeve of your sweatshirt is rolled halfway up your forearm and the other is pulled all the way over your hand.

the living room is bright, surrounded by windows, and you’re illuminated by light yellow late-morning sunlight all around and he feels safe looking at you.

the ice cracks a little more when he says your name softly.

“hm?” you say, confusedly looking up at him.

“nothing,” he answers, too quickly. “i’m just... happy right now.”

you smile, radiant. “i’m glad you are.”

—

in the afternoon, you’ve grown bored and are wandering the streets of your neighborhood, voicing thoughts and pointing out people you pass by.

it’s still early, but it’s january, so the sun is already beginning to set.

when you’re a couple minutes out from your house, yūji goes quiet, and it stays like that for the rest of the walk.

and then, as he stands next to you while you unlock the door, he blurts, “i have to tell you something.”

you freeze. “what?”

it’s silent for a bit. “never mind.”

“yūji—”

“it’s okay,” he says softly.

he wants to shrink away from your gaze as you study him. he knows you know there’s something amiss, and second thoughts have almost always been his own personal hell.

graciously, though, you don’t ask. and it’s like stepping through a portal when you’re back inside; it’s all forgotten and back to how it was before.

—

but: a little while later, you’re lying side-by-side on your bed watching netflix again, and for whatever reason you turn to look at him for a moment and it’s just—

you can’t look away. and you don’t know why.

he can feel your eyes on him and it burns, and he wonders how much longer he can keep this up before he loses his mind.

when he doesn’t turn to face you, you call his name softly.

“hm?”

after an uncomfortable moment of hesitation, you say, “something’s up.”

“what?”

“yūji,” you repeat, and he forgets to breathe for a second. “are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

the mattress shifts under his weight as he sits up, resting his head in his hands. he takes a deep breath and can’t bring himself to meet your eyes.

“what’s wrong?” it sounds less like a question and more like a plea.

“i—” he starts, and then stops himself. “i can’t, i can’t do this to you.”

“can’t do what?”

there’s a painful silence, heavy with anticipation and maybe a little bit of dread.

“i don’t wanna keep hooking up with you.”

you sit up, too.

“did i...? do something wrong?”

he shakes his head and sighs, and he sounds exasperated. “it’s... no, it’s— i think...” and he seems to grow more frustrated as he fails to verbalize whatever it is, this strange cold fire stinging in the pit of his stomach.

“what do you think?” you whisper.

and he stands and walks to the door. his hand rests on the knob and he whispers back, in a voice that sounds precariously close to breaking, “you, when i... y’know. ’m sorry.”

and he’s gone.

and you have no idea what to think, both of what he just said and the fact that it sends an excited buzz through your nerves, even though it probably shouldn’t.

— IT'S HARD N IT'S HARDER TO ADMIT

his words are stuck in your head all night, have you caught somewhere in between laughing and crying.

you want to call him, ask him what the fuck is going on and why you think you kind of like it, but you don’t.

but when you look over at your alarm clock to see that it’s 2:00 a.m. and sleep refuses to let you succumb to it and you relent to the warm emptiness between your legs, it’s yūji whom you imagine is there to fill it.

you think of the way his tongue trails down the expanse of your neck, the way he feels inside you, as you whine into your pillow and desperately try to make yourself come.

it doesn’t even occur to you until later, when you’re waking up to sunlight slicing through your half-open blinds. and then it does, and you text him: i do that too.

he doesn’t text back, but ten minutes later, your phone rings. he sounds breathless.

“be here in ten,” he says.

you pause. “okay.”

and you are. he throws open the door as he hears your car pull up and jogs out to meet you, and all he gives you is a quick, “hey,” before dragging you inside.

there’s no one else home, so he motions for you to have a seat at the kitchen table and takes the one next to you.

“do what too?”

“what?”

“what you texted me.”

you look down, studying the seams of your sleeve and feeling your breathing go shallow.

“do what too?” he repeats.

and softly, you say, “want you.”

yūji stands, pulling you to your feet with him. “want me how?”

your eyes are wide and a little bit sad as you stare up at him. “i don’t know.”

then he cracks a tiny smile. “good,” he says, “i don’t either.

except he does.

he wants you every way, your presence, your time, your body, your fucking soul, all of it. but he doesn’t say that.

when you kiss him, he implodes, melts into your arms as if he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. but he says nothing of it.

the feeling of your wrist in his hand, the sound of your giddy giggles as he leads you to his bedroom—for now, that’s enough.

he takes it slow.

when he’s shut the door and ensured it’s locked, he turns to find you’ve already tossed your top on the floor.

a smile meets yours, gentle fingertips on your cheek, a soft whisper against your hair: “put it back on; i wanna do it myself.”

and you laugh and oblige, shivering at the now-familiar sensation of the warm metal bead on his tongue against your lip as his hand finds its way to your ass and squeezes gently.

“yūji,” you whisper.

“i like it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs into your shoulder, rubbing gently up and down your back underneath your shirt.

“hmm,” comes your contented response.

and then his fingers are rubbing gently against the hem of your shirt, easing it up to reveal your body inch by inch, and you shiver a little under his feather-light touch.

lifting your arms up, you allow him to slip your shirt back over your head, and then his hands are all over you again, squeezing your breasts through your bra and tracing lines up and down the center of your back. the little metal ball on his tongue presses against your lower lip. you tug at the hem of his hoodie, and he pulls it off.

the feeling of his skin on yours is nothing new now, and yet this time, there’s a certain nuance to it that he can’t place.

he wonders how you want him again; can’t stop wondering as you lead his hand down to the button on your jeans, laughing a little as he kneels at your feet to unzip them.

as he pulls them slowly down your legs he lines your thighs with little, butterfly-soft kisses, murmuring unintelligible praises.

when you’re left in only your bra and panties, he wraps his arms around your waist and falls backward onto the mattress, taking you down with him. you sit up a little, so that you’re straddling him, and he lets out a low sigh.

“you are fucking incredible,” he breathes as you suck gently at his neck, leaving light marks that will have faded by tomorrow.

your fingers trace the dips between his abs, tantalizingly, eventually making their way all the way down his stomach to the waistband of his sweats, and then a little further, palming his dick through them and feeling how fucking hard he is.

he groans a little, says, “please don’t tease me,” as you continue to do exactly that, but he doesn’t stop you.

when you shift a little so that you’re positioned right over him, soaking panties rubbing a tiny little wet spot into the tent of his erection, he sits up and gathers your body into his arms, lips and tongue moving against yours as one hand unclips your bra while the other settles itself on your hip, grinding you down against him. you press your thighs together at this feeling of pure need you’re experiencing and he pulls his mouth away and looks you in the eye.

“may i?” he whispers, and you smile and nod, laughing as he rolls you off of him to rid himself of the rest of his clothes and dig a condom out of his bedside table, which he hands to you.

you’re impatient as you tear it open but force yourself to roll it onto him slowly, studying his face as he revels in the feeling of your fingers grazing lightly against his dick.

once it’s on, he flips you over again, laughing, and exhales slowly as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere on the floor to be found later. his fingertips ghost gently down the sides of your thighs as he bends down to lick a long stripe between your legs and across your clit.

“fuck,” you breathe as he groans softly against your skin, the vibrations sending an electrifying buzz up your spine.

he presses his tongue flat against you, metal bar circling your clit teasingly, and then he pulls away and groans, “sit on my face,” his words hurried and slurred with lust.

so you let him move to lie on his back and straddle his face, giggling as he wraps his hands around your thighs to pull you closer.

“aw, don’t be shy, i thought that’s the whole point of this,” he says.

and then his mouth is back on you again, tongue flicking slowly and carefully, taking in your every response, and soon he’s got you shaking on top of him, grasping at the headboard and his shoulders and tangling your fingers in his hair.

he keeps going after you’ve already finished, making you writhe and whimper, only letting go of you once he’s satisfied.

he pushes you backward so that you’re still sitting with your knees on either side of him and he sits up, leaning back against the headboard. his lips are on yours, then, and he’s pulling your hips to his, the head of his cock nudging ever-so-lightly against your entrance.

“quit teasing me,” you whine when he grips your waist, refusing to let you sit yourself on his dick.

“i’m not.”

“yes you are!”

“‘m not,” he mumbles, smiling, as he draws his lips down the curve of your left shoulder and back up again. “i’m savoring the moment.”

you huff. “you can savor it with your cock in me.” and yūji does his best not to show it, but the high he gets from those words alone, from knowing how desperate you are for him, even if it’s just for his body, sends him straight to heaven. because regardless of how much of him you want, it’s still only him that you want in this moment, and right now that’s enough.

you allow him to move at his own pace, his movements slow, languid as he holds you to his chest, one hand around your waist and the other reaching up to tangle his fingers in your hair. he lets himself say the things he wants now.

“kiss me?” he whispers, and you oblige happily. you taste like him, and he’s so content he could lose his mind.

instead he loses himself to you, shaky breaths between “god, you’re so good,” and “you have no idea… how long i’ve waited… for you to want me like this.” there’s a single thing he holds back from saying, but he still plans on saying it. he’s just saving it for the right moment.

you’re drunk off of him, your body shuddering against him with every touch of his skin to yours, not knowing what to say and yet feeling as if you know everything you’ve ever needed to. and you say it for him.

“i love you.”

the words are barely there, just a breath against his lips as you kiss him, and it’s too much for him. he finishes with something akin to a sob, taking your face into his hands. “i love you,” he responds. and then, “say it again? please?”

you close your eyes and smile, leaning into him and brushing your lips against his. “i love you, yūji.”

his hand’s on the back of your head, then, pushing you back to his mouth, wanting you closer, wanting more. and you want more, too, fingers tracing lines down his back and arms and stomach, sending waves of light through his skin. this is it, he thinks as you press your body tight against his, this is all there is.

you are everything to him.

— SOMETHING ABT U I CAN’T QUIT

in each other’s arms later that evening, you feel yūji’s chest move slowly up and down with each inhale and exhale, contented in sharing this silent moment with you, and then you know. you know how you want him. you open your mouth to speak, and he does at the exact same time. the two of you share a laugh, just like you always have.

“you first,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you can look at him properly.

he reaches up and rests a hand flat against your face and runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. “i am…” the words are slow and quiet and purposeful. “i am so in love with you.”

your smile widens against his hand. “i want you. everything… about you, with you. i want it all.”

and he mirrors your grin, just like he always has. “i’m yours to take.” his eyes flit down to your lips, his thumb still pressed against them, afraid to look you in the eye as he speaks his next words. his face flushes pink; it’s adorable. “say you’re mine, too?” it’s a request, a plea—not a command.

you reach up to your face and place your hand over his. “all yours,” you say. “don’t even have to ask.”

it’s silent for a bit again, and then he sits up, going a little more serious.

“what?”

“what happens if this doesn’t last?”

you sit up, too, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and gently pulling his head to rest against yours. “after all these years?”

“hmm.”

you think for a moment: after all these years. your whole lives, spent together, maybe not as lovers but always as two halves of a whole. it’s him you always gossip to first, whom you always went to after heartbreaks and fights with your parents. he’s the first one you told when you lost your virginity, crashed your car, got into one of your top universities. he’s held your hand through everything.

so finally you say, “i don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

he pulls away to look you in the eye. “why not?”

his nose brushes against yours as you lean your forehead against his and laugh a little. “are you dumb, yūji?”

“i don’t think so?” when you say nothing, just continuing to look at him with that shit-eating grin on your face, he goes, “am i missing something?”

you press your lips to his for a second and pull away, still smiling at him. “it’s us, yūji. always has been.”

232 notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 5 years

Text

Jealousy Has Its Perks

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 10.4K holy shit im tired

[ ✘ (nsfw!), ☀︎ ] sin with a cute ending

themes : jealous,dom!shouto, brat,sub!reader, friends with benefits, degradation, quirk use, edging, overstimulation, general bdsm things, & a sweet lil confession

bio : Even though you’re not his, Shouto can’t help but turn green with envy when he sees you dancing on another man at the club.

author’s note : uhhhh can i get a hell yeahhHHH for jealous fwb trope? lmao my basic ass loves these. hope y’all do too <3

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂hinsou’s hands land on your waist, cold fingertips pressing into your exposed midriff and guiding your hips along with his. The circular motion has your head spinning, and you let your skull fall back onto his sturdy chest at the feeling of his semi brushing against your ass. Shinsou’s purple locks tickle your neck as he bends and presses his lips to your skin, sucking on the skin just hard enough to leave a ghost of a bruise. His hands cup your hips, squeezing the flesh there softly while his thumbs trace the crest of the bones.

The song blasting through the club changes, a novel and heavy bass causing your throat to vibrate. The sudden need to quench your thirst emerges, and you pull away from the handsome man regretfully. His lavender irises regard you with understanding as you point to the bar, holding up a finger to signal you won’t be long.

Your heels stick to the dancefloor slightly as you cut through the throngs of club-goers, and unsurprisingly a handful of guys attempt to stop you on your travels. Finding a familiar pink head of hair, you slip into the empty spot next to Ashido and let out a sigh of relief as your elbows land on the wooden counter. Perspiration makes the hairs at the back of your neck stick to your skin, and you fan yourself with a cocktail napkin as you attempt to catch the bartender’s attention.

“Not doing so bad for yourself, Y/N,” Ashido grins at you coyly, her words a tad slurred as her black eyes give you a once-over.

You let out a chuckle, painted lips curving knowingly. “Yeah, well… he used to have a crush on me back in the day,” you explain with a nonchalant shrug, finally giving your order to the woman behind the bar. You look at Shinsou over your shoulder, who has returned to his table of friends and is currently being shoved, high-fived, and noogied animatedly.

Ashido gasps exaggeratedly, her mouth turning from an ‘o’ of shock to a grin of delight. “Two heroes wrapped around your finger at once? I can’t believe you,” she laughs, perhaps too hard, because you have to hold her arm tightly to keep her from falling off her stool.

“Hey now, I’m a free woman!” You reason, thanking the bartender as they hand you an icy glass. “I can fool around with whoever I want, thank you very much.”

“Can’t argue with sound logic,” Ashido taps your glass with hers, throwing back the remaining contents of her drink. “You know, you should tap Bakugou, too. Last night, he Lord-Explosion-Murdered this pussy.”

You snort, the alcohol burning your nostrils as it leaks into your nose from the abrupt reaction to Mina’s words. All the pink-haired woman does is laugh with you, the both of you maybe a step past tipsy but not nearly blackout drunk. Not yet, anyway.

“Shinsou though, really? I’m surprised… I thought you were too in love with IcyHot’s dick to tap anybody else,” Ashido teases, poking your shoulder as a frown forms on your face. Her words are playful, but they send irritation surging through your veins. That asshole had cancelled your weekly appointment tonight, which is why you’re here at the club, prowling for a suitable replacement.

You shrug again, allowing the bitter liquid to drift past your lips before you speak again. “What can I say? He knows how to get the job done, and he’s sexy as hell.”

“You sound a little smitten. He must be pretty damn good,” Ashido wiggles her brows at you, a devious smile making its way to her face.

You disregard her comment, looking away from your friend with an eye roll. Smitten? Your relationship with Shouto is strictly physical. But maybe you had been a bit too disappointed when he’d sent you that text earlier. Shaking your head, you take a gulp of your drink, willing the intrusive thought to disappear.

Ashido’s phone vibrates and you watch her face light up at the message. After a brief moment, she stands, collecting her jacket and purse. “Hmm, seems like Bakugou is calling for an emergency meeting,” she winks at you, flashing you a rather lewd photo of the blonde that was clearly not meant for you to see as she walks away. “Give my regards to Shinsou! I wanna hear about all the nasty stuff he does to you with that mind control quirk of his.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, sighing as you cross your arms. Would Shinsou really be enough to satisfy your cravings? His quirk does interest you sexually, but it’s unclear if he’d be willing to dominate you like that. He always seemed like the type to go with the flow… and tonight, you really need someone to force you to swim against the current, so to speak.

“Shinsou, huh?”

Speak of the icy devil. The voice behind you makes your body still, your eyes widening at his deep tone. The scent of his encaptivating cologne infiltrates the air around you, and a hand slides around your waist, pushing you backwards against his firm chest. You swallow, your tongue poking out to wet your lips in anticipation. What’s he doing here?

“Already forgetting about me, angel?” Lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his hand gliding across your torso until it reaches the other side of your waist, grabbing there and spinning you around. He catches you as you turn, snatching your wrist with his other hand to steady your half-finished drink.

You look up into his heterochromatic eyes, noticing a new emotion simmering there. Is that… jealousy? His cold breath fans over your flushed face, and you bask in the cool relief it provides in contrast to the stuffy club air. “It was you who cancelled our appointment,” you murmur, feigning innocence as you look to the side in a faux-bashful manner, “I needed to find a substitute. A girl has needs, you know.”

Shouto grins down at you, but it seems like more of a snarl as his eyes glare down at you with hostility. One eyebrow raised in mockery, he chuckles lowly. “And Shinsou Hitoshi is gonna do that for you? Are you sure he’s big enough to fill my shoes, angel?”

Your eyes wander back to the intimidating man before you, lingering on the ridges of his muscular form hidden underneath his button-up and slacks. Feeling brave, you down the rest of your drink, tongue rolling out and over the lip of the emptied glass. Shouto’s eyes burn as they follow the movement, his lips parting slightly while his grip tightens on your waist. Shooting him a playful smile, you tug your wrist free, placing the vacant glass on the bar. “What are you even doing here, Shouto?” You change the subject, hand reaching up to tug on his slim tie as a cheeky grin splits your lips. “You don’t like to have fun.”

The action causes him to lean closer to you, his face next to yours. “I was dragged here against my own will, of course— boy’s night. But would you believe my surprise when I saw my little minx walk in, all eyes on her in her skimpiest dress?” His baritone voice loud and clear despite the blaring music, his lips hover dangerously close. The hand you’d freed strikes your ass abruptly, causing you to jump closer to him in shock. His fingers hold the reddened cheek through the thin material of your dress, gathering you into his chest. No one seems bothered by the blatantly sexual action in the club, everyone distracted with their drinks and their own sensual pursuits. “And then, can you imagine how I felt watching her grind up against mind-control, watching him put his filthy fucking hands on what’s mine?”

You let out a heavy breath, delighted at how responsive he is. How possessive he is. “What’s yours?” You challenge, hands landing on his broad chest. His expression makes you press your legs together eagerly, your body starting to bend to his will.

Shouto’s hand leaves your waist to cradle the back of your neck, forcing you to bend your gaze to meet his. “Mine,” he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours by the second. Your pulse pounding, your fingers curling into the cotton of his shirt, your eyes flutter closed. His lips brush over yours, and then he pulls away.

A whine of protest escapes you, and you shove your palms against his chest in annoyance. But he doesn’t even budge, his fingers slipping into your hair and pulling your defiant face to look at him.

“Let’s get outta here, angel,” he nods toward the exit, releasing you and lightly smacking your ass again before his fingers settle at the small of your back, “I think I need to remind you who you belong to.” Shivers shoot down your spine at his choice of words, effectively drowning the bratty response you were so ready to quip at him. Without even a glance at Shinsou, you allow Shouto to guide you out of the establishment and into the crisp night air.

The brisk walk to his luxurious apartment is silent, but laden with anticipation. Your brain begins to ponder if his words had a deeper meaning. The two of you had been engaging in this affair for months now— you aren’t quite sure how it came to be. Your relationship had remained stringently physical, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that filled your stomach when he held you through the night, when his hands would rub your exhausted body tenderly, and when he would kiss you for hours before you’d slip into a satiated, peaceful slumber. And you did not dare to acknowledge the warmth that would blossom in your chest when you’d drowsily awake, still swaddled against his muscular chest with his arms around you as sunlight peeked through the blinds. Physical, yes— your relationship is only physical… regardless of the fuzzy feelings that ebb through you when you’re next to him.

And when he had proposed to have you come over twice in one weekend, you’d nearly panicked at the raw excitement that coursed through you at the premise. After much consideration you had denied his request, fearful that if you allowed yourself even a shred of further indulgence you’d be entirely consumed by the captivating man. He hadn’t overstepped that boundary since, and you weren’t sure if you felt appreciative or disappointed.

Your train of thought is interrupted as you reach the tall doors of his apartment building. The complex is perhaps one of the most expensive in the city— the lobby boasts flat leather sofas and sleek wooden tables. Lush tropical plants with leaves as wide as tennis rackets break up the space, magnificent orchids dotting the area just sparingly enough, and to top it off, an entire wall with running water rushing over the flat surface, creating a sheet of liquid that trickles quietly as you wait for the elevator.

Next to you, Shouto has his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face as usual. But after months of getting to know him, you can easily recognize the irritation lingering on his handsome mug. You are not able to think of any words that could possibly calm Shouto’s crackling, brooding intensity, but honestly, a large part of you desperately wants to find out what exactly he has in store for you. It’s clear that he has no intention of forgetting you were about to leave with another man, and his blatant acrimony brings a sliver of joy to you while jealousy oozes out of his every pore— you know you’re in for a wild night.

When the door closes with a deafening click behind you, your body freezes as you wait with bated breath. Sure enough, two large hands curl around your stomach, coasting down your pelvis in a V shape. His long fingers nearly graze your clothed slit, but he changes direction at the last moment, instead securing his palms on your inner upper thighs. He rubs the flesh there roughly, making your head fall back against his shoulder as you gaze up at him. His smoky eyes are already on you, a smirk decorating his pretty lips as his fingers work on your sensitive muscles. Thumbs brushing against the sides of your panties, his movements push the hem of your short dress up along your hips.

“You need to be fucked pretty bad, huh, angel?” He taunts, analyzing how your ass rubs zealously against his crotch. His smirk only grows as you nod, your hand flying up to grapple onto his bicep. “Bad enough to drop your standards so embarrassingly low?”

You snort at his words, turning your head so your eyes catch his. This asshole has some nerve getting jealous after he was the one who cancelled on you. “Shinsou is just as hot as you, Shouto,” you reply boldly, wondering what exactly the price of your words will be. How far can you push this envious beast? Will you be able to take his punishment?

Shouto’s expression darkens, allowing his hair to fall over his eyes as his stare falls to the floorboards. His hands leave your skin, and you whirl around ready to dish out another line, but he’s already a step ahead of you. He lashes out, yanking your body against his by swooping his hand underneath your thigh and cupping your bare ass. He lifts your body so your heels leave the floor, rushing to press your back flat against the drywall. He’s hoisted you up high enough to set your ass against the thin, tall table next to the door which usually holds his keys.

Your legs parted with him standing between them, he places his hands on the tops of your thighs. A low chuckle rumbles out of him, his tidy fingernails trailing up your flesh. “Just as hot as me, hmm? Is he really, Y/N?” His left hand jumps from your thigh to your cunt, the only barrier between you two your skimpy panties. The heat emanating off his palm catches you off guard, a moan tearing out of you as he easily cups your covered sex, sending a searing fever through your body.

“Fuck,” you whimper, hips bucking instinctively against his palm, your body hoping for some kind of friction. The heat makes your pussy twitch, stirring as a cat slowly pulled from a deep slumber.

He tilts his head, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re breathless. “Huh? What was that?” He wiggles his fingertips a bit, enjoying how you whine as the ends of his blistering fingers dig into your core through the material of your panties. Your wetness drips through the thin cloth to coat his hot digits, making it easier to glide them against you.

“More, Shouto,” you squeak, panting heavily as his fingers rub along your slit at an infuriatingly slow pace.

Shouto lets out a low purr of satisfaction at your plea, savoring how your smooth leg tenses up underneath his other palm. Your sweet whimpers are music to his ears, his right hand moving around your thigh to meander toward your ass. “No, baby. Not until my angel answers me,” he murmurs, ducking his head down and placing his lips against the delicate skin on your neck.

A wayward moan evades your gasping lungs as his tongue ravishes your flesh, his teeth scraping over the wet skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, wiggling your body forward so your soft breasts press up against his hard chest, your cunt inching closer to his crotch. “Ugh— nooo,” you gasp as a fingertip presses harshly against your core, just barely pushing your panties into your pussy.

“No? No what?” He laughs darkly, his breath tickling your sensitive collarbone. He draws back from you, his intense gaze focusing on the other side of your neck before he looks directly at you, a sinister glint in his eyes.

Your lip trembling, the brat you’d been so ready to let free is for once taciturn at his dominance. Your submissive nature leaking out in desperation, you whine when his fingertip recedes slightly, leaving your panties barely inside of you without the pressure you really want. “No— Shinsou’s not nearly as hot as you, Shouto!” You rush out, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall swiftly, restless for his touch to return to you.

But Shouto does not seem appeased by your admission. In fact, his gaze becomes a glare, his mouth curling into a snarl as he grabs your hips, crushing your body against his. “I hate hearing another man’s name come out of your pretty little mouth, Y/N,” he growls.

You’re shocked by his possessiveness, your eyes widening like saucers as his teeth skim your pouting lips. His proclamation makes a cocktail of doubt and lust unfurl in the corners of your body, but you’re torn as you wonder if he really thinks of you as his. Before you can ponder the meaning behind his statement, his eyelids shut and he smashes his lips onto yours.

Your arms are around his neck in less than a second, all thoughts vanishing as your nails scratch his scalp through the short, buzzed hair at the base of his undercut. He groans against your mouth, eliciting a moan from you in response. He takes the opportunity in stride, his hot tongue thrusting into your mouth as hot steam puffs out his nose, his calloused hands squeezing your body carnally. Your lips dance with his clumsily, your other hand cupping the corner of his sharp jawline and pulling his lips closer to yours.

He pulls away from you as your hips begin to grind against his, his eyes still closed with his lips pulling back into a snarky smile. Your needy mewl of disappointment makes his eyes slit open, regarding you with a predatory gaze. He takes in your desirous expression, his stare cold yet sizzling with passion. “You let him defile your perfect skin, angel?”

The hickey Shinsou had left is barely even that— nearly indistinguishable from your skin tone— yet Shouto’s eyes make the flesh on your neck blister with his scalding intensity. Your cheeks flush red, his words fanning the fire inside of you as you bite your lip. You had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but now you realize it was foolish of you to even allow yourself to think his perceptive gaze would skip over something so blatant.

“This heavenly body is mine to mark,” he hisses, a hand fisting your hair and pulling your neck back roughly to reveal the hidden skin from the shadows. The vaguely purple mark now on display in the dim mood lighting of his entryway, more steam billows from the man as he sneers in contempt. “And only mine. Got it, baby?” He does not allow you to answer— his mouth attacks the bruise, harshly sucking the skin while he washes away any recollection of the other man with ferocious swipes from his strong tongue.

Your back bows, your body wriggling in his grasp at the surge of devastating arousal that pulses through you. You shriek his name, hands clawing hysterically into his shoulder and the soft hair atop his head. Your pussy clenches around nothing, making you very aware of the aching need for him to claim you building in your core. Your legs snag his hips closer to yours, his body crashing into you as he grunts, lips finally releasing your battered skin. Without a doubt, the once indistinct mark is now more akin to the remnants of a punch to the throat, the colors already eclipsing into a deep shade of violet.

The lust crackles in the air between you two like thunder, your body a savannah ready to receive the generous relief of the first deluge in months. God, it’d only been a week since you last saw the man, but the unmitigated yearning for him to ravage you is the only emotion you can process.

“Please, Shouto, I need you to fuck me,” you beg, the words slipping out of you like a wet bar of soap from your desperate clutches. You’re mortified at your shamefully wanton admission, your cheeks still red and your body flushed, nearly shaking. You are not accustomed to this submissive side of yourself, but the brat inside of you only watches on in avid curiosity. If he doesn’t escalate this tryst fast enough, you’re afraid your body will fold like a limp noodle in his strong arms.

Shouto seems just as affected as you, his pupils dilated and his erection painfully straining against the confines of his slacks. His hands leave your frame, going to loosen the collar of his shirt by yanking his tie loose and then beginning to unbuckle his belt. You lean forward, your lips meeting his again as your fingers eagerly land on his cheeks, beckoning him closer to you. He moans into your mouth, fist nearly ripping the leather belt from the loops on his slacks, the metal of the snake-shaped buckle klinking loudly as he discards it carelessly onto the tabletop. Hands trailing up your spine, he tugs the zipper of your dress down your back, effortlessly lifting your hips in one hand to slip the garment under your ass and off your legs.

The inferno of jealousy ignites once again as he appraises your figure, clad in a matching set of white silky lace adorned with satin ribbons on each hip and one beneath the valley of your breasts. You’d worn this and Shinsou had almost seen such a marvel? Seen your delectable body in this gorgeous lingerie that he himself had never feasted his starved eyes upon?

Unaware of his change in mood, your lips move along his, begging for him to kiss you back as your tongue swipes his full bottom lip. His palms slide along your back, moving to cup your ass cheeks as he picks you up. You nibble on his earlobe as he swiftly carries you to his bedroom, his fingers jabbing into your behind in response. He kicks open the ajar door forcefully, unflinching as the doorknob nearly cracks the wall. Sliding onto the edge of the mattress, he sits with you on his lap, your legs still secure around his torso. His rough palms glide over your hips, rounding your waist and seizing your breasts, lifting the flesh to sit more perkily on your chest in perfectly round spheres.

“Why are you so fucking gorgeous, Y/N?” He groans, eyes closing in pleasure as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. He presses his mouth to the supple skin just above the cusp of the bra, slurping and nipping and leaving a trail of pretty pink marks. “You’re damn ethereal, angel.”

You’re gasping for air, hips unabashedly rolling against his, the feeling of his strained length making your desire for him to fuck you senseless multiply. Your hands latch onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself, your mind spinning dizzily with desire and the prolonged buzz from your earlier drinks.

“Take off my tie.”

The command rouses you from your far-away state, your fingers slightly trembling as you work on the silky material of the tie. After what seems like an eternity, the knot loosens and the tie slides off his neck into your hands. Shouto’s lips cover yours again, instantly enchanting you so that you don’t notice the sleek item slip through your fingers.

All of a sudden your front meets the cool sheets, your lips ripped away from his. Instead your face meets his pillow, engulfing your senses in the sexy, virile smell of him. You moan into the pillow, ass pushing into the air as your cunt throbs between your legs, ready to be taken in whatever manner he decides. His knees land on either side of your hips, his bulge rubbing into your ass teasingly as his hands close around your wrists. Tugging them behind your back carefully, he loops the tie around the both of them and fastens the knot with a firm pull, jerking once more for good measure.

You swallow into the pillow, teeth poking out to capture your bottom lip when he trails a sole finger along your spine. He’d never tied you up like this before, and the concept excites you to the point that your arousal visibly permeates your white panties.

“Do you feel that?” Shouto inquires, rutting his hips against your bottom so his clothed cock rubs between your ass cheeks. He’s panting lightly, his palms groping your ass and pinching the skin torturously. “Can you feel how much I want you, Y/N?”

“Fuck yes,” you answer, your head turning to lay against the pillow so he can see half your face and hear your voice. “I want you too, Shouto— I need you.”

He sighs at your saccharine words, almost swayed by your submissive antics. If he gives in now, his cock could be in your tight hole in just seconds… But then he wouldn’t get to have his way with you.

“Mmm, you’re cute when you’re desperate, baby,” he remarks, grasping your hips and pulling you down the sheets. He maneuvers you over his lap, and your eyes bug out of your skull as you assume position, knowing what comes next— he’d only done this once before but the memories of that night makes your pussy twinge excitedly. Your arms tied behind your back, your face dangles perilously beside his ankle, your forehead almost skimming the wooden floor. Your body is stiff, and Shouto hums as his hands drift along every inch of your back, ass, and the backs of your thighs.

“I wanna give you what you want, angel, but I promised I would remind you who you belong to, didn’t I?” His words are phrased like a question, but his tone implies them as a statement. Unsure what he wants, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

Apparently, that’s the wrong move, because his freezing hand slaps down hard onto your ass. A mix between a shout and a whine falls out of your lips, your fingers clutching onto themselves in apprehension. Your breathing picks up, ascending into a pant as his other hand caresses the reddened skin with a soothing heat exuding from his palm.

“Did you know I was going to be at the club tonight?”

His question catches you off guard, and you think for a moment before replying with a simple, honest “No.”

Shouto lets out a long sigh, his warm hand leaving your ass and making you tense in preparation.

“So you wore this little number thinking you would just show it to whomever you went home with?” Oh, that’s where he’s going with this.

Again, you’re not sure how to answer. Either way will be unsatisfactory— either you say yes and that would certainly result in a jealous smack, or you say no and he’d spank you for lying to him. You cannot come to a decision fast enough, and the next frigid slap across your other ass cheek steals your breath away as you whimper, your pussy clenching in sadistic delight.

“Answer me, angel. Or I’ll turn this flawless little ass of yours scarlet.”

“I bought it for you!” You blurt out meekly, your cheeks flushing with mortification. It’s not a direct answer to his question, but it’s more than enough to amuse him.

The warmth of his left hand feels hotter this time as it curves around your irritated skin. “Oh?” Shouto all but purrs, his brow raised in interest. “For me, angel?”

You nod, even though your head is below his eye level. “I was gonna wear it tonight, just for you,” you whisper sincerely, blush bright red as your thumbs rub over your knuckles in a self-soothing manner. Deciding you’re already deep enough into your embarrassing confession, you finish your thought with your eyes scrunched shut as you prepare yourself for what you know will come next. “But you rainchecked, so I… thought Shinsou might enjoy it instead.”

Shouto remains eerily quiet for a moment, your heartbeat accelerating wildly as he leaves you waiting, questioning just how he will react. Your body jumps as his left hand swirls around your hips, his arm resting on your back to gather your ass higher across his lap. The neat bows on your panties unravel at your hips, the cool air hitting your swollen cunt as the material is snatched away and discarded. He forces you to wait for another dizzying pause, the urge to squirm in his grasp tempting but you force yourself to stay motionless.

Tears spring into your eyes as his palm crashes against you, his arctic hand causing your body to thrash in recoil, and a strong gust of chilled wind slapping against your dripping folds. A shaky breath escapes you, morphing into a distraught cry when his hot thumb plunges into your aching core, rubbing and curling against your shuddering walls with spite.

“I thought I told you not to say his fucking name,” Shouto jeers, taking his thumb out of you to rub mercilessly betwen your petals, spreading your abundant slick with ease. Coasting down to your clit, he smirks as you sob, your legs quaking.

Your hips jut backwards on their own accord, forcing his thumb to penetrate your cunt again. You moan at the stimulation, squeezing the digit and grinding so it presses against your velvet walls.

He chuckles, pressing the finger as deep as he can and savoring the shameless wails the action induces. “How can you look so pure and act so naughty?” He wonders aloud, his frosty hand trailing along your thigh as he works his thumb inside of you. “You’re really just a little slut, aren’t you? Fucking yourself with my finger so brazenly.” He sighs as he feels your core clenching around his thumb, grinning as you whine at the loss of the digit.

“Please, just fuck me,” you exclaim, turning your face to look at his haughty gaze above you, “Make me forget about anyone else!”

Shouto pinches your inflamed ass cheek, forcing another whimper to croak out of your throat. “Aha, is that your game, angel? Want me to fuck you so hard I’m the only man you see? Fuck this little pussy so good no other cock can satisfy you, hmm?” He maneuvers your body effortlessly, positioning you to face him as you sit on his lap. The smooth material of his slacks irritates your sore ass slightly, but all you can bring yourself to do is nod, your arms shuffling behind you with the want to reach out and touch him.

His hands settle on the apex of your thighs, rugged fingertips soothing the skin there before he lifts your body, standing and placing you neatly on the floor before him. Casting an innocent look up at him, you shuffle to your knees, arching your back to your breasts and ass pop out for his aerial vantage point.

“You know what to do, don’t you baby?” Shouto snickers as he untucks his shirt and begins to snap open the buttons down the center of his chest, revealing his creamy skin to your lustful eyes. Leaving the shirt on with his abs on display, he undoes the clasp and zip at the front of his hips, slowly unveiling the delicious V tapering south below his slacks. You squirm in impatience, eyes glued to the trail of fine, bicolored hair he uncovers as his slacks sag tantalizingly slow. His thumbs slither underneath the elastic band across his pelvis, lowering the hem just enough to show you the base of his thick, hard cock. “Alright, angel,” he rumbles, and you feel a stray bead of arousal drip down your thigh at his gruff tone, “Convince me you deserve to have this cock in you.”

As soon as he shoves his briefs low enough for his length to spring free, your lips drown his cockhead with haste, your tongue welcoming his hot, heavy tip with eager flicks. Shouto groans when you suck abruptly, your cheeks hollowing as you allow his member to drive deeper into your mouth. His hand landing on the back of your head, you take that as your cue to leap forward, slamming the entirety of his impressive cock into your open throat as your nose brushes into his abdomen.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Shouto gasps, his hips bucking into your face and shoving the tip of his dick into the depths of your throat.

Tears beading in your eyes, you refuse to let up, releasing a loud moan that makes his cock vibrate. Shouto throws his head back, his fingers curling in your hair as his hips recede, leaving only the tip inside your mouth and you gratefully take in a breath of air before he shoves back in.

“You take my cock so well, angel— fuuuuck, just like that,” he grumbles, pistoning into your face at a slow, deep tempo, the back of your throat caressing his tip delectably as a fat tear races down your cheek. Your cheeks flush pink and your chest tightens from the lack of air, but Shouto’s low grunts falling on your greedy ears has your cunt pulsing with need, your spit trickling down your chin. Shouto’s rabid gaze locks with yours, monitoring your wet eyes and your pleading pout as he speaks, “You look so beautiful slobbering on me like this, my little slut.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him, humming on his length as you continue to bob back and forth. Your tongue lathering the veiny underside of his length, the promiscuous flavor of salty pre blooms on your tastebuds. Your head recedes back, keeping just the swollen head inside your mouth as you twirl your tongue in circles around him.

You pop his cock out of your mouth, and send him a closed-lip, coy smile as you smear the slick tip against your mouth. Shouto sighs when your half-lidded gaze meets his, your tongue poking out and curving to dawdle up and down his length.

“That’s enough, baby. Come here.” Shouto bends and picks you up from the floor, kneeling on the mattress and crawling toward the center with you in his arms. Your back collides with the silky sheets, your arms awkwardly stuck behind you with the tie rubbing your wrists. Shouto opens your legs, hovering over your body and making you suddenly feel small in comparison to him. Your cunt parts at the motion, exposing your twitching, saturated hole to him and sending a fresh blush to your cheeks. One hand propping himself up, the other stroking your cheek gingerly, he ushers you to look at him. He whispers to you, his voice calm yet enticing, “You want me to make you feel good, angel?”

“Please,” you implore, your voice hoarse and quiet from his abuse on your throat, “Please touch me, Shouto.” Your mind hazy with a lascivious fog clouding your senses, you can barely find the words to beg.

Even just his hands floating down to your breasts makes you shiver. Your lip between your teeth again, Shouto smirks at you as his fingers pinch the ribbon holding your bra together. Deliberately taking his time, he unravels the neat bow, examining how the silky fabric falls apart so smoothly. The bra cups fall to the side, exposing the smooth skin of your breasts to his feasting eyes. You release a string of mewls as his lips graze the marks he’d left behind earlier, darkening the blemishes with gentle bites. Tongue tracing around your areola, your thighs squeeze around his waist when the warm muscle brushes along a pebbled nipple. Pressing your lips together harshly as he sucks the pert bud into his mouth, your hips jolt against his. His hand kneads your other breast expertly, tweaking your nipple between his skilled fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips only make your nipples stand out more, scraping against you and sending your head spinning.

“You like that, Y/N? Want all my attention on you, don’t you, greedy girl?” Shouto purrs, your breast falling from his lips as he grins at your cheekily.

Swallowing another moan, your breath comes out ragged as you retort, “I could say the same for you, baby.” His fingers on your nipple press together in a pinch, eliciting a strained whimper from you.

Shouto chuckles, poking his tongue out to rove over your other breast, flicking the nub playfully before he speaks a single word. “Touché.” Drifting lower between your legs, his lips leave a wet path down your torso, nibbling and slickening your skin. His mouth littering your body with kisses, an artist eager to make a fresh blank canvas his own. Hot breath colliding with your glistening sex, he groans at the sight of you spread before him. “But damn, angel, can you really blame me?”

Without any warning, he thrusts his tongue into your folds, swiping vertically along your slit and dipping into your entrance with a moan, eyes closed as he relishes your sweet nectar. Your hips dig into the mattress as you struggle to handle the instant relief his touch provides, unfiltered noises of pleasure escaping you. One of his hands slides underneath your thigh to cup your ass and bring your body closer to his face.

Every time Shouto’s mouth is on you, you’re reminded of just how good he is at pleasuring you. He alternates between rubbing his tongue along your silky inner walls and curling the muscle around your clit, sucking the nerve into his mouth and applying just enough suction to steal your breath away. Your body reacts to his touch naturally, with each moan summoned true and raw.

His fingers prod your sex gently, coating the digits in your essence before they slide into your body at a snail’s pace. The friction of his touch inside of you makes your legs clamp around his head, eliciting a deep laugh from the man that reverberates against your clit. Your eyes roll backwards as he begins to pump the digits at a reasonable pace, knuckles curling deeply in search of that plush spot that makes you fall apart underneath him. Saliva mixing with your arousal, Shouto’s chin is drenched in the sinful concoction as he continues his hunt with determination.

“S-Shit,” you choke as his fingertips push into just the right place, your thighs gripping his head so tight you think you’ll crush him. But Shouto doesn’t seem to care, angling his wrist to gain better access, lithe fingers speeding up as his teeth graze your clit. His vigilant eyes fix on your face twisted in ecstasy, minding how your pussy begins to clench onto his digits in desperation, trying their best to suck them back inside. Your heels dig into his broad back as your body begins to squirm, preparing for your first orgasm of the night.

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Shouto pulls back. Your eyes fly open to look at him in distress, your lips parting with a gasp as your climax flees without a trace. “Shouto!” You hiss, regarding his sultry smirk in shock. This man has some audacity. “I was about to-”

He interrupts you, his fingers gliding back into your core without resistance, lips wrapping around your clit again. The sudden pleasure of the intensity stokes the mere embers of your previous orgasm with fervor, your head flinging backwards onto the pillow as your spine bows.

Your palms behind your back are slick with sweat, your hardened nipples cutting into the still air of the room as your body writhes on its own accord. Your thighs tremble ever-so-slightly on top of his shoulders, your eyes shutting again as you try your best to hold in your whimpers.

But Shouto doesn’t like that, his mouth abandoning your pearl to snarl, “If you wanna cum I’ve gotta hear your voice. I wanna hear you beg for me, baby.”

His dirty words send a new wave of humiliation crashing over you, your mind horrified at your body’s betrayal. Your submissive demeanor is by no means akin to your usual behavior during your weekly rendezvous, and you’re honestly impressed and shocked that Shouto had coaxed it out with such ease. Already you can feel the tension building in your core, your body happily receptive of his generous caress. Your chest heaves as you attempt to even your frazzled breaths, but once your focus switches to that, the pleasure increases exponentially between your legs. Your cunt quivers obviously, Shouto’s eyebrow raising as he shoots you a taunting look.

“I’m the only one who can get you so close so quick, angel. Aren’t I?” His mouth leaves your clit to speak but his teeth capture the nerve instead as he speaks, his hot breath steaming against your throbbing cunt.

Your chin against your chest, you nod vigorously, your hips inching closer to close the distance between your cunt and his mouth. Your fingers curled into fists against the sheets, your back sticks to the sheets with perspiration.

Shouto shakes his head, teeth releasing your aching clit as he clicks his tongue at you. “I said, let me hear you, Y/N.” His fingers pull out, the fingertips just barely inside as he rims your entrance, just enough to keep your pussy throbbing. He exhales, an icy breath rushing over your sopping sex.

“N-No!” You wail, your voice nearly breaking as your orgasm fades away once again. You were so fucking close! You let out another sob, tossing your head to the side in humiliating agony.

“There’s that divine voice of yours,” Shouto chuckles, nipping your inner thigh playfully. Taking his fingers away, his thumb replaces them as it glides over your soaked slit, dipping into your clenched core amusedly before tearing it away again. Your destitute whine only feeds his dominance, and he rolls his thumb over your puffy nerve gently, enjoying how your hips buck weakly in response. “Come on now, angel. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

Your chest jolts as his thumb presses down just a pinch, cruising down to rub your entrance brusquely. “You’re the only one that can make me so breathless, Shouto. Please,” your voice wavers as you grovel, eyes locking with his, “Please, make me cum! I need your touch, I need your cock, I— I need you!”

Shouto’s gaze flickers for a moment before he smirks, ducking down to kiss your clit softly. “See, baby? Was that so hard?” He murmurs, his words rumbling on your shivering pussy before his tongue parts your folds, driving deep inside you.

You scream at the intense bliss as his thumb works quickly over your clit, his tongue assaulting your velvet insides. Your thighs weakly tighten around his head, your body unable to stay still as the pleasure wracks through you. Lewd moans and swears tumble out of you as you grind against his face, thrilled by the way his tongue never tires. The pressure between your legs is back and faster heightening, your eyes flying open in shock at how astonishingly fast your climax is approaching.

“S-Shouto, I— I’m—,” is all that you can get out before you seize in his arms, your entire body spasming in ecstasy. Shouto only pins your hips down against the mattress with his free hand, forcing your legs to stay open as he continues to assault your cunt, tongue pummeling your tender core and thumb abusing your clit. You can’t even let out a moan because your lungs are empty— all that slithers out of you a string of shrill and broken cries. The pleasure thrums through your body from head to toe, your fingers and toes curling and splaying as sweat runs down your skin.

Shouto diligently continues to lap at your cunt, slurping up the fresh essence dripping out of you onto the sheets. When he pulls back all he can see is your blissed-out, flustered expression, and your nipples standing upright in arousal. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he tears the shirt off his shoulders in one swift motion. His slacks shed just as quick, he grabs your hips and throws you onto your front, your face once again in his pillow. “You came without my permission, angel. You wanna be a slut? I’ll treat you like a fucking slut,” he snarls, rugged palms coiling around your hips and forcing them into the air, bending your spine so your body transforms into a delicious arch.

Your heart slams against your ribs in apprehension, your mind still too woozy to make a complaint as his cock plunges inside of you. Your walls spread for his length welcomingly, your arousal and your cum lubricating your cunt. Your eyes roll back at the fullness— the stretch of him stuffing your cunt with his thick cock so delectably euphoric. You’re so wet that it doesn’t even hurt as he impales you, pleasure the only feeling coursing through you.

Shouto growls, your pussy hugging his length so snugly he has to take a moment for his head to stop spinning. “Fuuuck,” he utters huskily, sliding out halfway and inspecting how your cunt grips his slippery cock so desperately.

You cry out as he thrusts back in, the angle already perfectly locating your g-spot and making stars flash across your vision. Your body shakes as a palm cracks against your ass, more tears collecting on your lower lashes at the pain that hurts so good.

Shouto grabs the tie around your wrists with the other hand, yanking your body backwards to slap against his hard torso. Hands flying to your hips, he drills into you as he holds you upright against him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches, cunt trembling at the familiar tension building deep inside of you.

“You wanna fuckin’ cum already, don’t you, slut?” Shouto barks, a hand leaving your hip to hold your breast, trapping your nipple between his long fingers. The friction he provides is exquisite, and long, unabashed moans float out of your parted lips.

“Yes! Yes! Please— Make me cum, Shouto!” You howl, your toes curling at the sacred pleasure so close to peaking within you. Lips latched onto the claim he had laid on your neck, his teeth pinch your skin. His ragged grunts in your ear make your core clench around him, about to reach salvation for the second time.

“Do it, Y/N. I want my slutty angel pussy to cum all over this cock,” he commands, forcing your hips to crash down onto his so his tip jabs your g-spot harshly.

Your body collapses at his approval, cunt squeezing and fluttering and leaking onto him as you release a lewd scream. White hot bliss shoots through you as sinful tides of delirium pull you under. Your body trembles as the ecstasy pulses in your veins, your jaw unhinged and your eyes rolled into your skull.

Shouto pushes you forward so your torso falls flat against the mattress limply. His hips do not stall, continuing to push into your tightened cunt with determination as he drags out your orgasm. “Where’s my nasty little brat now?” He laughs crudely, slapping your ass gently and grabbing the reddened flesh, pulling your hips back against his. “Nothing to say, hmm?”

As if your brain is functional enough to form words. Your limbs feel like jello, wiggling with pleasure and shock as he advances his plight. Your throat is dry from all the panting, your ass sore underneath Shouto’s oppressive grip. But it feels so fucking good, you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

Shouto sucks a breath in between his grinding teeth, watching how your ass bounces against his pelvis as his cock slides into your depths. Sweat dripping down his chest and along your back, his hold on you is tight enough to cut off circulation. His lip twitches as he recognizes his orgasm creeping up inside, and he groans as he pulls out of you abruptly.

You whine at the loss, but you’re silenced immediately as he flips your body and presses his lips to yours. His kiss is pleasantly soft, a harsh contrast to his rough hands which slide around your back and fumble with the tie around your wrists. His tongue pushes inside your mouth, searching for yours and caressing it at first touch. Once the silky material slips off you, his hands rove over your breasts, massaging the heavy flesh tenderly as his cock brushes along your slit. A string of saliva stretches between you as his lips leave yours, a hot, breathy sigh fanning over your face. “This beautiful body is all mine, Y/N,” he whispers, tip slipping between your folds and entering your cunt with ease.

Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your aching hole being filled once again, but the pain makes the pleasure so much more enjoyable. His lips wander along your neck as he begins to thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses along your clavicle and down your breast, tongue washing over your nipple as his cock brushes along your velvet walls so perfectly.

The friction has your eyes nearly crossed, and the pleasure only intensifies when Shouto guides your legs to rest against his chest, your ankles by his ears. The angle allows greater access, his thick member reaching new depths that elicit a sharp gasp from you. His left hand pushes your abdomen down slightly, his thumb travelling south to flick along your clit lazily.

“Shit, Shouto, I— s-so sensitive,” you whimper, your hand timidly reaching out to rest on his flexing abdominal muscles. The sensation of him dragging against your g-spot so sensually causes your bottom lip to tremble, a tear sneaking down your cheek to land in your hair.

Shouto’s large hand guides yours to land on your thigh, and he tucks his arm so his own hand covers yours as he pulls your thighs closer to him. “One more, baby,” he moans, the thumb on your clit speeding up.

The extra attention summons that familiar build up in your core, a long whine falling from your lips. “I can’t, I can’t,” you mewl but your body says otherwise, pussy tightening slightly as your ankles cross behind his neck.

“I thought you wanted to cum, angel?” He uses your words against you as he sighs, hips picking up to ram into yours. He holds his breath as you clamp down on him, your sinful expression fueling his impending orgasm. “You gonna make me finish on my own?”

The thought of him blowing his load into you has you biting your lip, your hips shuffling against his. Shouto moans, thumb circling your puffy nerve even faster as he continues to pound into you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, the only noise to interrupt that your huffs and moans.

Steam billows from Shouto’s nose as his eyes nearly close, his abs flexing out of his torso as he fights to keep his orgasm at bay. His heavy breath and visible restraint convince your body to give in, and you weep as you sink into euphoria for the third time tonight. Shouto’s right there with you, a strangled growl mixed with a moan ripping from his lungs as his seed spurts into you, his cock twitching and balls draining as he falls to his elbows above you.

Your body feels sluggish as your limbs tremble slightly, the high from your orgasm still clouding your brain as your arms wrap around Shouto’s shoulders. His cold breath refreshes the moist, flushed skin on your neck, long eyelashes tickling your jaw as your nails scrape carefully down his spine.

When he pulls out your body feels incomplete, but Shouto nuzzles into your jaw affectionately, his hands sliding between the damp sheets and your skin to hold you close. He scatters sluggish, persistent kisses along your throat and up your jaw. And when he moves to your face, they only become longer and more intimate, gently guiding you back to reality.

You sigh in content as you lean in to capture his lips, moving sweet and slow against each other. Your digits amble into his hair, combing back the soft tresses so you can see more of his charming face. He moans at your touch, pleased by the soothing sensation of your fingers feathering along his scalp. His own hand follows your lead, fingers steering a stray hair off your forehead and gliding into your tresses to hold your head in his palm.

The pair of you continue to kiss for who knows how long, touching each other tenderly and savoring the feeling of skin against skin. Your lips melding into one, cradling one another fragilely as if you mutually fear the other will break without your embrace. You could spend eternity like this, high off his ambrosial, tender care.

You are the one to pull away first, knowing Shouto would keep this going until morning if he didn’t think you’d come back down from your high. Not that you would mind that, but you should probably clean up the mess that your passionate session had created— his release beginning to trickle out of you onto the sheets. As he pulls back, the emotions swirling in his striking two-toned gaze shock you. His brow is slightly creased as he nibbles at the corner of his lip, eyes darting around your face.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, sitting up and scooting off the mattress, disappearing around the corner of the bathroom door. The sound of water splashing in the sink fills the silence as you sit still, closing your eyes as the cogs in your brain begin to turn.

Oh god, you’d been so shameless tonight— you’d taunted him and he had made you fall apart and beg in return, bending to his every command. Sure, he had always been the dominant one in your rendezvous before, but tonight was different. He had been jealous, when he had no right to be. But is that why your heart is beating so quickly in your chest? Suddenly you’re anxious, overthinking as usual. This is just sex, right?

But then, why did you leave Shinsou’s side so quickly at the bar when Shouto had been the one to cancel on you? And then there was that, too— why had he just ditched his friends in the middle of boys’ night when it was the reason he cancelled on you in the first place? And he had clearly been furious at the thought of you spending the night with another man. Was it because he knew Shinsou? Or was it because he wanted to be exclusive with you?

Well, if he wanted to be exclusive friends with benefits, isn’t that the same thing as dating? Would he ever date someone like you? Wait, would you even be willing to date him? Do you want him to be your… boyfriend? Your eyes widen and a pink girlish blush emerges on your cheeks at the label. What are you, eight years old? Why do you feel so giddy at the possibility of him wanting you, for more than your body?

Shouto strolls out of the bathroom just in time to catch that embarrassing look on your face, but he only smiles sincerely at you and it makes you blush even harder. What the hell? You’re extra submissive for one night and now you’re thinking about your feelings for him? Wait, did you just admit you have feelings for him?

He clambers over to you in the middle of the bed, a washcloth draped on his slender finger. He leans down and pecks you like it’s no big deal, humming as his lips linger on yours just long enough to make you want more. Your body jumps at the feeling of the damp warmth the towel provides, but you relax as the feeling soothes your aching core.

“Was that okay? How do you feel, baby?” Shouto asks softly, watchful eyes gauging your expression as you look at him. “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself, but, I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You let out a breathless, mirthful chuckle at his concern, reaching out to put your hand on his strong arm. “No, I’m fine. And it was… great. Mind-blowing, actually,” you smile at him bashfully, hoping it was just as good for him.

Shouto’s eyes twinkle as he smiles back, nodding slowly. “It was, wasn’t it?” He helps you sit up, maneuvering you carefully off the bed and gesturing for you to use the bathroom.

After relieving yourself, you look at yourself in the mirror that hangs above the sink, vision falling on the massive bruise blossoming on your neck. You sigh when you inspect the purple mark, but when your gaze floats back to your face, you’re dumbstruck to find yourself grinning like a fool. Terror and thrill floods through you at the realization that if any other guy had left a mark this nasty on you, you’d be furious. And yet, having Shouto’s claim on you makes you feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

Shit. Looks like you do want him to be your boyfriend.

You’re half expecting the reflection to show a stupid cartoon character with the way that your heart feels like it’s thumping out of your chest. Taking in a deep breath, you determinedly point at yourself in the mirror and breath out shakily, “You can do this.”

Exiting the bathroom, you return to find Shouto leaning against the headboard, the sheets pulled up to his waist and his fingers rubbing together awkwardly. His eyes on his lap, he almost looks anxious. But he notices your presence right away, peeling back the corner of the blanket and beckoning you to slide in.

Placing yourself stiffly on the side of the bed, you take in his confused expression. “I need to tell you something,” you say as steadily as possible. Man, that’s a scary sentence, even if you’re not on the receiving end.

Shouto’s lips part and he looks like he wants to say something, but he swallows whatever it was down and nods, his expression guarded. “I’m all ears,” he replies, placing his hand on the pillow in front of you.

With the spotlight on you, your throat feels dry as dirt, and you nervously shuffle, suddenly very conscious of your nakedness. “Um,” falls out of your mouth, anything to split the suffocating silence. Your palms are clammy, and your fingers delve into the folds of the sheets to hide your nerves. “I know this is gonna sound kind of lame, but… well, I um…” Shouto’s gaze is burning your face, your cheeks redder than ever as you will this humiliation to just end already. Sucking in another breath, the words blurt out of you. “I have feelings for you.”

The surprise on his features is unmistakable. All you can do is stare at him, frozen in uncertainty but strangely enough it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. A heavy one at that— one whose existence you refused to acknowledge until ten minutes ago.

“R-Really?” Shouto stutters, looking like he’s just seen a ghost with how wide his eyes are.

You aren’t sure how to take that response, but as soon as your gaze falls from his, his hand shoots out to latch onto your wrist. When you look back at him, a different emotion is painted over his face, one of… hope?

“I have feelings for you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, his own blush dusting over his cheeks. His eyes are soulful and hold nothing but candor and content.

Before you can process his words, his hands are rounding your waist and pulling your body toward his. A different kind of high bursts through you as his lips touch yours, joy storming through the both of you and warm, tingly static crackling between you. These kisses feel different— your heart feels like it’s about to pop, swelling with excitement and relief. Shouto begins to laugh against your lips, and the alluring sound infects you, too, as you join him with a giggle. The both of you are laughing at nothing in particular, but you don’t need a reason to let the noises of elation loose.

Once your laughter ceases, Shouto collects your chin in his hand and places a gentle kiss upon your grinning lips. When he pulls back, his eyes contain a wisp of that jealous fire that had consumed him only hours earlier, and he shoots you a mischievous smirk as he squeezes your ass playfully. “Do you think Shinsou could ever make you feel this good, angel?”

You roll your eyes, chuckling in exasperation at this man’s relentless, absurd envy. “Hmm,” you pretend to think for a moment before you lean closer to him, hands hung loosely around the back of his neck. “Shinsou? Never heard of him.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

you reached the end!! thanks for reading this long ass fic lmao, i know it was an investment. I hope the ending was not too cringe, I usually just end my fics after the nut but I wanted to try something new :’) be sure to lmk if you enjoyed <3

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𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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beauty-of-depravation · 4 years

Text

Wanna make love ?

Gif not mine ♥️

Okey I've written the whole damn thing in one go, i didn't read it twice, I'm thirsty for Bucky everyday of my life.

Warning : explicit sexual content +18. Fingering/fucking/Making love/ condom is not an option/from slow to rough/ slow burn/FwB kind off/ dom Bucky/dirty talk

You always were a bold girl.

The afternoon had been going amazingly. Bucky is your best friend, and recently you both have been feeling off. You don't know if it's the approaching winter, or the work related stress, or just the weight of your pasts, but you needed this afternoon. A whole afternoon spent talking, about big everythings and sweet nothings. You went from talking about tragic events and confessing some pent-up feelings, pretty intimate emotions and impressions, to laughing and fooling around. the wind was strong and the rain fell violently on the window. Bucky was sitting on the wooden bench under the window and you were sitting cross-legged, on the carpet, your half-emptied glass of wine in hand, and an empty pack of cookies by your side. You still have a huge smile on you lips, and your belly still hurts from laughing soo hard, Bucky is one goofy motherfucker. The calm slowly comes back, and you let yourself fall on your back, still smiling softly. The silence is not awkward, it's serene.

And then you feel it.

They say nothing good happens after 2 am. They say it all seems to start after few taquilla shots. They say that hot summer nights are the most likely to lead to sex. The stories talk about how two best friends are in love, the girl comes back after a terrible date, her guy best friend invites her to drink. Maybe him too had a terrible night. after few shots, they flirt, fuck hard, then confess.

What about calm rainy afternoon. What about sharing a bottle of red wine. What about the fact that Bucky can't get drunk, and you only had two glasses. and then you want to make love ? What about If you are not in love, you just want to make love.

What if you are not falling in love but just falling in desire ?

What could possibly go wrong ?

You tilt your head back up, and look at the man by the window. One leg bent against his wide firm chest, the other on the ground, his long brown locks framing his face, his amazingly beautiful eyes are fixed on the apocalyptic landscape behind the glass. He is wearing a black t-shirt, and sweatpants. Your eyes wander over what you know to be a perfectly toned chest, and to his metal left arm which is facing you. He doesn't really like to leave it seen by everyone like that, but with you, he doesn't have this complex.

You stand up, walking to the bench, and sit beside him, also admiring the stormy weather.

— Wanna make love ? you say in raspy, dreamy voice, without looking at Bucky.

— What ? you hear him turn around to face you.

— I said, wanna make love ? you repeat, still not looking at him.

— Y/N what do you mean "make love"

— Bucky, are you completely dumb ? you finally turn your face.

— You mean ...sex make love ?

— Yes, James, because we are six. Sex make love, you reply with humour in your voice.

— i mean, where did that come from? he asks hesitantly.

— i don't know. I want to make love.

— right now ?

— yes, right now.

— with me?

— yes, with you.

Poor man is so confused, but you can see his body tensing.

— i ...i just want to have you inside of me right now, while we look out the window, look how much it's raining, and how the thunder rumbles, wouldn't it feel so good ? You heard his breathing go heavy, but you still add, if you don't want to just say no.

— it's not that I don't want to, he answers quickly, just need to make sure ...are you drunk?

— A little tipsy. Not enough for me to not know what I'm asking for and not enough for you to feel guilty.

— So, you are just a weirdo ? Some humour is back in his tone but you feel like his voice is ... deeper.

— Yes.

— will it ...make things weired ?

— no, consider i want ....a really deep hug.

— from me ?

— James, if you don't kiss me in the three next seconds consider that I've changed my mind.

But you decide to go easy on him, and lean down half of the way, he comply and bring his lips to yours, gently, slowly, you start kissing eachother. It's ... poetic. Like you wanted it to be. You weirdo beauty obsessed girl.

You and Bucky, it feels perfect. Two souls permanently damaged. Two best friends. Why do people always think that "soulmates" is a word for couples only?

His tongue gently caress your lip and you part them, letting him invade you.You taste eachother the wine and the tenderness. His flesh hand is soon traveling along your back, to the back of your neck, and it sinks into your hair. A muffled moan escapes your lips when his metal hand grab your ass and push you against him, pressing your chest to his.

— Wait, wait, you breathe.

— What ? Bucky move his head back, and look deepe into your eyes, half- worried, half disappointed.

— Relax, we are not stopping, James. Just, let me straddle your lap.

He chuckles, you love this sound, it makes you smile whenever you hear it.

— come here, he whispers, as he grab you ass more firmly, extend both his legs on the bench, leans his back to the wall behind him, and pulls you close, he initiates another kiss, and you start slowly moving your hips on his.

You hear him grunt, and a cheeky smile come to your lips, as you feel him getting hard. You feel him smile arrogantly to, and you don't understand why, until he suddenly push his hips up, crashing his hardening cock with your crotch, a loud moan escapes your throat, you open your eyes and meet his gaze analyzing you, his metal hand take control of your hip rolling, and he makes it more intense. You can feel it now. The man is...god blessed. Fuck.

— Bucky...! you whine.

— Yes, doll ?

— don't tease.

— Then get of me.

— What ?

— Don't worry, Y/N, we are not stopping. You stick your tongue out at him, falsely irritated as he quotes you. But you face becomes red pretty soon when he adds in a dangerously low voice, his lips against your ear, Let's just get you ready for my cock, yeah ? Let me taste this pussy, doll.

He chuckles at how fast you jump off his lap. He slides down from the bench to, drop to his knees and tap the space on the bench in front of him, taken by a sudden shyness you sit at some distance from his face. A loud laugh escapes his throat, and he suddenly grab under your knees and and pulls you toward him.

— Don't shy away, doll. Now, you are not allowed to cum, and don't you dare move. Understood ? he instruct while pulling down your pyjama pants and underwear at the same time.

— Yes.

— good girl. I'm going to take great care of you. he says, with nothing but sweetness and desire in his voice.

And suddenly, his mouth is on your pussy, his tongue flat against your clit. You mewl your pleasure, and your forearm covers your eyes, as he licks a line along your sex.

— Oh, god !

An deeply amused "Ehmmm" is his only reply.

He kiss your lips, bite your inner thigh and leave a hickey there. Then licks again, from your entrance to the head of your clit. You squirm at the feeling, and his metal hand push your hips down

— Doll, i really want to take you, make it hard for me to prepare you, and I'll push inside of you right now.

— Then do it, I'm wet enough, you argue.

— No, you are not, I'm to big for your little pussy.

You moan and your inner walls clench imagining him

— Cocky shit.

— I saw how you clenched, into dirty talk sweetheart?

— i can still change my mind about what we are doing.

He chuckles again, and ...it's weak to say he gets to work. He fucking eats you out like you are his last meal. He roughly suck at your clit, making his name spill from your lips like a plea, both his hands on your thighs forbid you to move an inch, as he keeps pushing and playing with the devil's door bell.

His tongue flicks your nub, and it takes a scream of pleasure away from you.

— I'm going to push a finger in, doll.

You moan and try to make a move toward him.

— ohh, so needy... Alright. But you have to tell me which one.

Your eyes snap open.

The mother fucking bastard. He knew, and you knew he knew. And you knew he knew you knew by the tone he used.

Okey. You might had confessed to Bucky, about a month ago, that you were...very curious of how his metal fingers felt inside a woman. And be might have answered by :

"They never get tired"

And you said "your too sweet to put a woman through that in bed" and he replied with a wink and "try me"

Ohh. Ohh. No.

But as if he was reading in your mind, he said :

— don't worry doll, not tonight. Tonight, we are going to make love slowly, by the window, for as long as you want. But i still want you to admit it.

— Oh, please..

You slaped yourself mentally, you were aiming for a sharp tone, but you sounded...needy.

— Say it, or you'll never know...

— You fucker... alright...i want the metal hand...

— what do you say?

— fuck off.

— alright alright, We'll work on manners another time.

And with that, he pushes knuckle deep one cold metal finger.

— how does it feel, sweetheart ? Tell me, his voice is sweet but still firm.

Oh that, that is an exercise you love. You focus on the feeling.

— it's cold, and it contrast with my temperature, i can't feel the hard metal on my walls, and ...oh when you move it like that, i can feel the tip of your finger lightly pushing on the spot...

Bucky is focused on your breathy description...and when you mention the sweet spot, he suddenly push harder on it.

— oh yeah ? This one ? Like that ?

— Oh fuck, Yes yes there Buck, right there.

— yes m'aam.

And with that, a second finger push inside of you, and he start pumping a little faster, pushing on your sweet spot.

— Oooh your fingers fill me up Soo good buck.

— Two fingers and already full, doll ? Unless I make you take at least three, my cock is going to stretch you out...oh doll, you just clenched around me. Like the idea of being stretched out on my big cock, hmm ? Good girls take a little pain, perfect girls enjoy it, which one are you ?

As you moan and don't answer, a third finger roughly push inside you, no warnings.

— Ooohhh buckyyyy !!!

— I said, which one are you ? His voice is now commanding. And his fingers fuck you harder, waiting for the answer.

— Pain is part...fuck.... part of beauty.

You feel him smile against your thigh, as he kiss it sweetly while fingering fucking you with all his might.

You feel your orgasm coming, you focus your mind on the sound of the rain behind you, and the feeling of Bucky's fingers pumping in and out of you at a demential pace, and his lips are back on your clit as he draw circles on it. Your soul is about to leave your fucking body. And you smile, the image of it is beautiful, you have this amazing man between your legs, and behind you a storm is ragging.

You moan loudly, and grip the sides of the bench and ...

— WHY DID YOU FUCKING STOP ?

a loud laugh, a real sincere laugh echos in the room as you sit up, looking at Bucky.

— Oh my God, your reaction is priceless doll ! You are the most fun I've had in decades!

— well that's not a surprise...you mumble, rolling your eyes, as he keeps laughing.

— Soo light headed... He says, taking off his shirt, and then his sweatpants. He went back to serious, and you had a hard time swallowing your saliva with the look he gave you. I told you, you were not to fucking cum. And you forgot.

Your eyes open wide. Shit.

He then grabs you by the waist, and sits down, his back to the wall, and make you straddle his lap once again. You wiggle on his muscular thighs, as he sows wet kisses on your neck, his long fingers grab the hem of your t-shirt. He slowly takes it over your shoulders.

— Fucking hell, i'm still a man doll, your tits freely bouncing at every movement you made had my head spinning all afternoon.

You giggle and he smiles at you sweetly, giggling to.

— Your skin is so soft...

He kisses a line between your breasts, then capture one of your nipples between his teeth, making you arch your back. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive nipple and suck on it passionately, as his flesh hand plays with you other boob, massaging it, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. He then make his way of kisses up you neck, stopping behind your ear, he whispers:

— So now, sweetheart, let's follow the original plan, you are going to sit on my cock, and we are going to make love, as slow as I command you to, looking out at the storm. And if you want to cum, you are to beg for it.

— What ? But i..

— Oh, no back talk now sweetheart. Those boxers are getting tight.

You look down at the huge bulge. Ohh. He wasn't kidding... forgetting about the arguing, you caress his length through the thin fabric, and he release a deep growl. You slowly kiss his neck while sliding your hand in his underpants, feeling how his cock jumps at you touch, how heavy, and hot it is between your fingers.

You can barely close your fingers around it's girth.

— Told you you needed to be prepared... He expire between two heavy breath as you play with him.

You don't answer him. Because you can't deny he was telling the truth, and you don't want to flatter his already flattered ego.

— you planning on taking the boxers off at some point, doll ?

— Hmmm, you might need to say please...

— Fuck...

You squeeze harder on his shaft, and he moan.

— Okey, okey i guess I earned that ...please doll, take the fucking boxer off so I can ruin you pussy ?

Your entire body shudder, as you finally push the boxers down, letting his erection bounce to his stomach. Your hand slowly travels up and down his thickness, spreading the precum. You want to taste him. Want to know how much if him you can take in your mouth, in your throat, maybe he'll push your head down and make you take more, You look up at him, his head is thrown back, his eyebrows frowned and his mouth slightly opened. That's... beautiful. You want to see what he will look like when the head of his dick will hit the back of your throat.

— Fuck...i want you in my mouth, Bucky.

— Fuck ...I'm going to get cursed for missing this opportunity...fuck. no.

You have an obviously desapointed look on your face, as you keep slowly stroking him.

— Oh doll, don't play the puppy eyes on me. I want to see you choke to, but another time. Right now, come here, on top of me, so i can play with your perfect tits, and lower yourself on me.

You moan, excited to have it inside of you, You lift your hips and slowly, slowly move down.

— Ohh fuuuuuck.

The tip going inside of you is the most delightful feeling. It's heavenly.

You feel Bucky tense under you, he is trying to keep himself from moving with all his might. You devilishly decide to play a little more.

You sink few centimeters more, not even half way down, and then back up, then back few centimeters down, and you stop. Acting like you need more time to accommodate his size, even though you only have the tip in.

— oh Buckyyy, you are Soo biiiig, you feel so goooood, you moan in a fake porn star voice.

He gets it, your playing with him

You know what they say about teasing ? It backfires.

— Oh really ? Then doll, why don't you take all my fucking cock, you.fucking.tease. and with that he grabs you hips and snap them down roughly.

The next moans that escape you mouth are everything but overplayed.

— Fuck Bucky...

— That's what you get for being a tease, now bounce, slowly, and everytime you stop, I'm going to spank that ass. Leave pretty hand prints on it, yeah ? Now, bounce.

For how long did it go ? You can't even say anymore.

— Oh ... sweetheart, your legs are shaking ? Well, to.fucking.bad. *SMACK* take it harder. Ohh sweetheart, i didn't mean harder like that, it's not enough for a tease like you, is it *SMACK* ? More like that, he says as he grab you hips and empale you on his cock, up and down, up and down, no breaks, you are not going fast enough for his liking? No problem, he bucks his hips up, meeting you halfway.

— What, you want to cum ? But no, you can't. Don't even think about it. *SMACK SMACK*

— Doll, look in my eyes, right, look at me, you are doing so good for me. Go slower, you can't cum just yet remember, go slower.

— Look at those beautiful nipples, you like when I suck on them, yeah ?

— Grab on my shoulders, kiss me.

— What ? Why did i spank you this time ? Because I wanted to sweetheart *SMACK*

— tomorrow there will be my handprints all over those pretty cheeks. *SMACK*

— sweetheart ? Let's take a break. Yes, sit down, no, no, keep me inside. Just sit down, you wanted to make love right? I think you know better then to tease me know ? Yeah ? Good girl. Keep me inside of you, let me wrap my hands around you, let's look at the storm, aren't we confortable like that ?

You looked at the storm. From time to time he's move slowly. Or you'd readjust to feel him. the pleasure was a slow burn.

You grabbed the wine bottle from the floor, and you shared what was left of it. From time to time between heated kisses and touches you or him would crack up a joke, a dirty comment or a philosophical one. You asked eachother how come not more best friends had sex like that ? It was the best feeling. You had nothing to prouve to each other, you had no expectations, you were just here to feel good. You kissed for what seemed like hours, sometimes open eyes, sometimes closed, sometimes heated kisses, tongue swirling and mixing breaths, sometimes just gentle pecks.

By the end, you were both on the verge of insanity. You needed to cum. Bucky was sweaty and struggling to keep control, his hands all over you, his breath heavy and his voice as desperate as yours.

— Okey, what do you think about fucking me now ? You propose, heavy breathing.

— We done with love making? Asks Bucky with the same tone.

— The storm calmed down, you reply with a smile.

— Fuck, finally. Get on you back doll, he orders.

You painfully got off him, your legs muscles were sore.

— you're an asshole

— and I'm going to make you cum, get over yourself, he replied, still finding in him the strength to keep up with you temperament, as he stands up before you, towering over you body. God the man is beautiful. What a sight.

he raises your legs and puts your feet on his shoulders.

— Ready ?

— More then FUCK.

You head throws back.

— Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He curses to as he pushes inside of you and immediately starts pounding. You really are crazy tight, fuck.

Your sounds of pleasure mix in the air, the room is full of the smell of sex. It feels soo good. No one can fuck you like that, no one can understand how you like it like he immediately does. And no one except you can make him confortable enough for him to fully enjoy the moment. You both have wicked mids which are always afraid of something, afraid of an inversible threat that is constantly around you, the only thing you trust, is each other.

— Bucky, bucky I'm going to cum, fuck fuck, Bucky !

— yeah ? You are going to cum on my cock, doll ? He fucks you harder is that's even possible, and his metal fingers go to your clit and furiously rub it. Say please.

— Fuck...Fuck off.

You didn't think he'd be capable to stop. But he did. immediately. Everything stopped.

— You are not going to fucking cum if you do not beg, I'm not backing off of this. You say please, Bucky, make me cum, please. Or i leave you like that.

— Oh my God are you...arggg your breath is taken away from you as he roughly snap his hips, pushing himself all the way in, as a warning.

— fine! Fine, please Bucky make me cum! Please!

He smiles, and start pounding and bullying your clit so much you might cry.

— see. What. Arggg, a fucking good girl you ...can be. let it go, doll, cum, cum around me, ohh god, your clenching Soo hard, you feel Soo fucking good, don't try to escape, keep cumming, keep fucking cumming, oh God I'm cumming to, oh god doll you feel Soo good, so good...

You scream and cry out, your orgasm dragging out as he keeps playing with your love button, and his cock twitchs inside of you as he spills his hot sperm deep inside you.

— oh fuck, doll Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He grunts and moan, and bite at your calf as he orgasms. And collapses on your chest. You hug him tightly, and you stay like that. Both panting.

They say it all ends with a happily ever after.

But maybe love story's always have to bring tragedy. They make us irrational, and some philosophs say that being in love brings the worst out of us, jealousy, insecurities, codependency...etc

What if the best love stories are friendship stories. And nothing says we can't spice them up a little, right?

They also say male/female friendship doesn't exist.

At the time you didn't fucking care what they said.

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sumeshi-t · 4 years

Text

falling.

fwb!sakusa x reader

wc: 1.7k

warning: slight nsfw mention here and there

i tried tried making this as just a drabble, but i think i might have gotten carried away sksksks

tagging cheesecult: @akaashit-baeji @bubbleteaa @yamagucheese @milkandc00kiez @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @thiccbokuto @shinsukestan @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @airybby @kawaiikraykray @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei

and thank you mom @taeiliee for beta-ing this omg ilysm

you were sat at the corner of the large hall, watching as strangers kissed strangers, brushing their sweating bodies against each other on the dance floor, the smell of alcohol and lust and sin heavy in the air, all this muted by the loud blaring of music, the bass thumping along with your heartbeat, sending vibrations to your skull.

sighing, you swiveled on the chair, before asking the bartender for a drink. you were just going to enjoy one more shot, give your friends a text, and go home, sleep, end the night as dull as it should be.

until this man, whose curly hair framed his face perfectly, two distinct moles just above one of his brows, the scent of fresh laundry and lavender reaching your nose, caught in your periphery, sitting a chair away from you. his mask prevented you from seeing him in full view but just a look at his eyes tells you that he's been through hell just by being in that place.

he only asked for water, took out a handkerchief and wiped the rim of the glass before pulling down his mask to take careful sips. he must've noticed you watching him, so he turned to you.

as silly as it sounds, you hiccuped at having realized how cute this man actually was without the mask. you quickly cover your mouth and, surprisingly, he asks the bartender to get you a glass of water.

"you having fun?" you ask him once your hiccups subsided, apologizing for bothering him. the man who has yet to introduce himself groans, "obviously not. i don't see you having a good time either,"

"this isn't really my type of fun. not at all; i'd rather be at home but..." it's the alcohol, you're going to stupidly put all the blame on the drinks that you've had; on the way his eyes scanned your face; on the way your eyes watched his lips move; on the way his arm brushed against yours once you two decided to get the hell out of that shit-fest.

you thought this was only going to be a cute little encounter with a man who also hated crowds that rescued you and himself, and you were in no way expecting to be ending the night like this–

tipsy and naked, legs spread, back against the wall, nails digging into his smooth back, warm shower water trickling down your body; your breath fogging up the glass, panting with every snap of his hips against yours.

it was a weird way for introductions to be made, but as you both neared your high, he whispers his name in your ear, "say it, call my name, scream,"

and you did.

as you rode out your orgasm with him, the sensation of his name rolling out of your tongue felt more euphoric than what really led to you being unable to stand on your own, knees buckling soon as your feet touched the floor, that he has had to give you and himself a real and decent shower.

when you lay in his bed moments later, his back was turned to face you. no "good night" or "sweet dreams"– you realize you'd preferred it that way, to stick to the reality of what this was: a one night stand. and since it's like that, you guessed that this was the last time you'd be seeing or even be breathing the same air as this man.

so even if he was merely breaths away from you, you knew what you shared with him just now wouldn't shorten the ten thousand miles between you. you knew it was wrong to be feeling this way for a stranger; even so, your clouded thoughts got the best of you.

and you reached out.

"kiyoomi,"

"what? can't sleep?" his voice was a low grumble, the sound muffled by the pillow he was hugging to his chest.

"it's y/n," meanwhile, your voice was barely audible, you were sure it was just another whisper in the wind. but for sakusa kiyoomi, it was louder than the moans and gasps you made that night. "though i don't think that's important," you drawled before succumbing to sleep.

the next day, you wake early and leave him, his bed, and the memories of last night without a word. just as how one night stands should be.

so for the next week, you were confused, angry, for feeling so desperate to see sakusa kiyoomi once again. if only you knew that this was how it was going to be, you would've left your number on a little note; or maybe do the things they would in movies, used your lipstick to write it on his bathroom mirror with hearts and your name in case he didn't hear it.

and your desperation has you coming back to that shit-hole of a party. if only to relive the memories of that one night. you knew the chances of seeing him there again were slim, absentmindedly twirling your glass of vodka in your hand while letting the alcohol slowly numb you.

only to see a familiar set of eyes, and half of a face obscured by a mask beside you.

"thought this wasn't your fun?"

"i could say the same about you, didn't you hate it here?" you place the glass back on the counter, completely turning to sakusa, "wanna get out of here?"

he downed the shot you didn't take, before standing up to leave.

you both hated having to go back to that club. but for some reason, the two of you just indulged in the prospect of meeting each other there, only to be in each other's heat, and for one of you to be left alone in the cold the morning after.

then it was the third, fourth, and soon it was the sixth-night-stand.

you did something you've never done before: that was, pressing your lips against his. there was a surge of boldness in you that you assumed was only from the alcohol, when you didn't know yet that it was already something more addictive and dangerous than that.

you thought the kiss would ruin everything that you had with him–whatever it was–but, it didn't. instead, sakusa kiyoomi responds with a bite to your lower lip, a chaste kiss, a teasing lick, before pulling away to rest his lips to nip at your neck.

for the rest of that night, his movements weren't so rough. from his lips came out your name and his praises, and with those same swollen lips he left behind a burning trail of butterfly kisses on every corner of your body covered by skin he could taste–all this replacing the usual grunts of approval or the loud smack of his palms against your ass.

this time, sakusa's bed wasn't cold nor empty. the first thing he saw as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning was you; cradled in his arms, hickey-filled chest steadily rising and falling with each breath. his calloused fingers brush against your cheek once, and it was too bad that you couldn't see the soft smile he has for you.

after the seventh night, you two began texting. the texting escalated to phone calls. the phone calls turned into meet-ups that you all but wanted to call a date but couldn't because you had no idea just what you were to him, and what he was to you.

"woah, you can do that? don't your wrists hurt?" your eyes widened, almost dropping the ice cream he bought for you after one of his practice games.

"really, omiomi? that how ya flirt with such a pretty lady?" one of his teammates quips from behind you. sakusa glares at the blonde guy who you remember as their setter, and you decide to laugh it off. "don't worry, he doesn't have to do much to have me on my kne–"

sakusa slams a mask to your face to keep you from saying anything more. and then, once he knows the two of you were out of their earshot, his arm wraps around your shoulder to pull you close to him, and he warns by your ear, "that filthy mouth of yours needs a little cleaning tonight,"

to his surprise, you smile up at him, which gives him a hard time concentrating on what you were saying, his quickening pulse echoing in his head making him unable to hear your voice.

it was no longer the sex that you craved from him. it was no longer just sex for him. deep in your heart, you knew what you shared with sakusa–it was making love. and he knows this too. it was a feeling that to him was so familiar yet so distant.

"kiyoomi,"

"y/n,"

"i... i think, i'm already in love with you,"

you were so blinded by the brightness of the emotions you knew you felt with and for him, that you failed to notice he never answered you back, nor did you see the fears and worries that he keeps hidden behind his mask.

after all that build-up, only for sakusa kiyoomi to drop you at the last second. as if nothing happened. as if you were nothing. the meet-ups stopped, your calls were declined, texts left on read.

it's been a month since then, now you were in your bedroom on a friday night, refusing your friends' invites for yet another party downtown. this time, they tell you it was for you to forget. which was dumb, considering that place was where it all started.

"it" meaning... what? it's not even valid to call it a one night stand anymore. a friend with benefits? then again, did you even fit his description of a friend? or were you just another fuck buddy to him? someone he used as an outlet of his sexual frustrations and when he caught on to the feelings you shouldn't have and even you didn't even know why–

you wished forgetting sakusa kiyoomi was as easy as getting rid of the stains on your sheets.

but the tears and pain he's dirtied you with was a mark no bleach or detergent could ever erase.

little did you know, for the past month, sakusa kiyoomi was patiently waiting for you in that same old stool back in the bar, with three words he wished he'd told you sooner.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa kiyoomi angst #sakusa angst #sakusa smut

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jungshook69 · 4 years

Text

Love is a myth :: 04 (Finale)

DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy. The taglist is open if you want. Taglist is now closed.

WORD COUNT: 4.8K words (it’s the finale y’all don’t look at me like that)

MAIN PAIRING: musician! Yoongi X waitress! female reader

SIDE PAIRING/S: Jungkook X female reader ; Taehyung X female reader

GENRE: FWB! au ; Strangers to lovers! au

WARNINGS: Implied smut (Forgive me cuz I suck at writing it, no puns intended) ; Mentions of alcohol and smoking (I do not condone smoking) ; Profanity ; Mentions of infidelity ; Heavy angst ; Self loathing (Namjoon’s about to wack me in the head with his slipper) ; I apologize in advance if there’s any spelling errors.

SUMMARY: "You covered your bare form with the silk sheets beneath you, as you watched him walk out your door without a word." // "Love is a myth. All that existed between you two was pure lust." // "The last rule was if anyone of the two of you caught feelings for the other, the deal would be off."

SERIES MASTERLIST: Trailer » Meet the cast » Chapter #1 » Chapter #2 » Chapter #3 » Chapter #4

STATUS: Complete

You were even more motivated than ever to get ready for that blind date. Your fight with Yoongi from 4 hours ago was still fresh in your mind. You needed to get your mind off of things, and this date provided the perfect escape. You looked down at your phone that flashed with a new message.

New message from ‘Michael “Jackie”-son’(2):

‘Dress in something fancy’

‘Address: XXX, 47th street’

After ripping through every dress in your closet, you finally settled on going for a sleek, deep wine-coloured, silk gown that hugged your curves, but also loosely flowed to your feet. A slit ran down your left thigh up to your ankles through which your black lingerie stocking was sticking out. Yes, you’d chosen black lingerie for the night. It was the one you felt most confident in. Your hair was pinned into a simple, elegant, low bun, some loose strands of hair framing your face. You wore a simple chain choker, some elegant bracelets, shiny black pumps, and tiny pearls on your ears. Your lips were tinted in a gorgeous wine-shade, and your eyes were lined with a black liner. You knew your bear arms would feel cold, but you felt confident in your looks for once. But sadly this much reminded you of how your mother would dress. You pushed all these thoughts aside and grabbed your clutch, before you could make a tardy first impression.

You stood before the building, drinking in the beauty of the exterior. You weren’t too surprised as you had worked at a 5-star restaurant for the majority of your life, but you were fairly nervous as you had never been on the receiving end of such ambience, ever since you had run away from your family’s wealth when you were 16.

You walked in and were immediately greeted, “Good evening ma’am, how may I help you?”

“Ummm… I have a reservation for two under the name Mr. Kim?”

“Okay, I’ll check that for you.”

You looked around and observed the luxurious decor of the place while the hostess went through the registry. She finally cleared her throat and spoke up, “Yes ma’am, Mr. Kim has been here for 2 minutes already, if you follow me, I shall take you to your seat.” She said smiling.

Your palms start sweating as you follow the hostess to your table. Why were you so nervous? Was it because he was rich? Was it because he’d treated you to such a fancy place just for a blind date? Was it because you were afraid to break it to him how you were only expecting to have a good time, and not a committed relationship?

Your brain most definitely started malfunctioning when you saw the hostess motion you towards a man sitting at what you presumed was your table. You took small strides as you made your way over to the intimidating man. He pulled back your chair for you and seated himself in front of you.

And when your friends said this man was devilishly handsome, they weren’t exaggerating. His skin was clear and almost glowing. He was dressed in a fitted black blazer and trousers to match, along with a classic white button down underneath. His eyes were deep and intriguing, making you want to sit and stare into them all day. His lips were perfectly curved and looked inviting. You noticed two cute moles, one below his lip, and the other below his nose. His hair was a gorgeous jet black and was gelled back. A single strand cascaded on his forehead making him look even more suave. His poise held confidence, his shoulders held high, which seemed intimidating enough to you.

“Good evening Miss. Y/N.”

You thought his looks had attacked you enough. But that wasn’t the end of it. It’s when he spoke that you melted. His voice made goosebumps travel down your spine. What had you gotten yourself into? There’s no way this man was going to give you just a night of fun! What was Jackie thinking?

“G-Good evening Mr. Kim.” You said trying to cope with his formalism.

“Can we drop the act?” he asks, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Pardon?”

“I meant I know I’m intimidating, but like this is a bit much isn’t it?”

“Wha… but you…”

“Jackie said, and I quote, ‘You got money right? Flaunt it!’.” He says smiling.

“Oh god.” You say trying to hold back a smile and failing.

“Sometimes I wonder how Mark tolerates her.” He says giggling.

“They do love each other a lot.” You say sighing.

“Hey ummm… Y/N?” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, eyes shining.

You were sweating and panting as you held onto his shoulders.

“Taehyung, go slower, you’re killing me!” you yell out.

“Jeez what are you? 60?” he scoffs.

“Ayy you try walking in my heels!” you roll your eyes.

You were both currently walking up the stairs to an old skating rink that overlooked the entire city. Taehyung held a takeout bag with 2 simple diner style burgers in them, while his other hand was clasping yours, helping you get up the last flight of stairs. You finally reached the spot he told you about and gasped at the sight you saw. You could see the entire skyline from here and it was a gorgeous sight to enjoy while eating the perfect comfort food.

You both sat down and Taehyung handed you your dinner. “I much prefer these burgers than some expensive ass Pacific Bluefin tuna.” He says with a mouthful of food.

“I’m surprised at how humble you are.” You say sincerely.

“Yeah, the key is to never forget your roots.”

“Sometimes people need to forget their roots…” you whisper unconsciously.

“What?” he asks.

“Uhh… the burgers are delicious.”

“I know right? Mark doesn’t like them.”

“Well Mark can go jump off a cliff.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He said smiling wide, as you admire his beautiful smile.

“To be honest I never thought you’d be such a breath of fresh air when I first saw you.”

“I tend to leave such a first impression.”

“Umm… actually… I just wanted to clarify.” You say as you finish your burgers. “I don’t wanna lead you on. I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“Well you’re lucky, because I’m not either. I tend to travel a lot. And I tend to fool around here and there and not stay emotionally grounded with anyone.” He says shrugging.

“I hate commitment too. I just like to have a fun time.” You murmur.

“Want me to show you a fun time?” he asks smirking.

30 minutes later, you were back against the wall of your apartment, as your lips were engulfed by Taehyung’s. His tongue felt hot, clashing against the walls of your mouth, as you shamelessly moaned into the kiss. His blazer had long been discarded on your floor, and your hands were tangled in his soft black hair. His hands roamed on your body rather daringly. His hands travelled up the length of your leg, causing goosebumps across the skin of your exposed thigh. His long fingers gripped around the meat of your thighs before he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped onto his shoulders to balance yourself.

The kiss was sloppy and heated with none of you willing to stop for breath. His hands undid your hair and let your curls fall around your shoulders. His fingers thread through your long locks and he pulled on your hair, biting your lip as he broke the kiss. “You’re gorgeous.” He murmured shakily. You gave him a sly smirk and pulled his neck, connecting your lips again. He broke apart again, and stared into your eyes. His deep brown orbs were completely blown out, drowning in lust, and you were sure you matched it with the same darkness in your eyes. His voice was breathless as he said, “Why is the god damn zipper so tiny?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his urgency. “What’re you laughing about?” he asks furrowing his eyebrows.

“It’s just you sound like those guys who struggle with a bra clasp and end up giving up in frustration.” You laugh out loud.

“Oh I’m not giving up. You best believe I’m getting that god damn dress off of you.” He says, his voice husky.

He turned you around and dropped you on your bed. He climbed over you, his leg landing between your thighs, his hands working on taking off your dress. He devoured your lips with an almost animalistic hunger when he’d finally exposed your lingerie to him.

Your chest was heaving as you stared up at the white ceiling fan. You had a déjà vu from about 2 weeks ago, from one of the many nights with Yoongi, where you had watched him leave after satisfying both your needs. You turned your head to see Taehyung’s angelic face next to you, as you catch his eyes already on you.

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” you ask smiling.

“I’ve slept with a lot of people ‘for fun’. But trust me when I say I’ve never wanted to stay back and cuddle as much as I do with you.” He says sighing.

“Don’t fall in love with me Kim.” You say rolling your eyes.

“It’s next to impossible, but I’ll try.” He says sarcastically, receiving a playful nudge from you in response.

“Pillow talk has never been part of my routine…” you speak out, sincerity lacing your tone.

“Me too…” he whispers and what he does next shocks you. He places his head on your chest, his face burying into the crook of your neck, and his arms wrap around your waist, sending shivers across your bare skin.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Don’t think about it too much, just relax.” He huffs out, his breath running against your warm neck.

You relax under his touch and involuntarily find your hands wrapping around his head as you nuzzle him closer. You let out a shaky breath as this reminds you too much of your college boyfriend. “Do you have to leave tomorrow?” you ask in a daze.

“Sorry but yes… but I have a feeling I’m not gonna lose contact with you like I do with other people I sleep with…” he said smiling.

“Me too…” you say letting your tired eyes flutter shut.

You wake up to a different sound everyday it seems. Today you woke up to the sound of what sounded like empty plastic bottles falling. Your eyes met with Taehyung’s, who came stumbling out of the washroom. “Sorry if I woke you up, I accidently dropped the shampoo bottles on your counter.”

“No it’s okay.” You say smiling as you got up and put on your robe onto your naked form.

You watched Taehyung, as he was folding the sleeves of his white button down to his elbows. His hair cascaded over his forehead in a messy, but still intimidating manner. He looked up at you as he grabbed his coat. “Well I should get going, my driver’s downstairs.”

“Oh okay…” you murmur softly.

He walks up to you and lifts up your chin ever so lightly. You meet his warm smile and you instantly melt. He leans in and lands a soft kiss against your lips. “I left my number on a note on the night stand. Promise me, we’ll stay in touch.”

“Sure.” You say sighing, with a sad smile.

“Hey, I meant to be friends, not for just hooking up again…” he says chuckling lightly.

“Oh…” your eyes were wide.

“Well I have to go now, bye Y/N I had a great time…” he says walking away, his hand slipping from your hold.

You watched as he left your place, and you went to take a shower. Somehow this time when you heard the familiar click of the door, you didn’t feel hurt. Even though Taehyung was gone, you didn’t feel sad. Did it have anything to do with the affection he had shown you, besides the lustful sin you had committed?

Yoongi walked up the stairs of your building. His hair was a mess, his eyes were swollen from not getting enough sleep. He didn’t like the way he had yelled at you yesterday. He wasn’t in the right mind and he was just angered when you had told him that the memories he held dearest to his heart were a mistake. He finally reached your floor at 9 am in the morning, hoping he could resolve a few unspoken issues. Confrontation was always Yoongi’s go-to method.

But Yoongi stopped in his tracks when he saw a man with tussled dark hair close the door to your apartment. He could only assume the worst by the sight in front of him. The man passed by Yoongi, bowing out of courtesy on his way to the stairs. All his obsessive thoughts started coming back to him. Maybe you didn’t want to go back to being friends. Maybe you should stick to the deal you had made. The slight bit of confidence Yoongi had when he was making his way to meet you was wiped away as he turned on his heel and made his way towards the exit.

He needed some time. You needed some time. Alone.

The next whole week had gone by in a blur. Yoongi was procrastinating on whether or not to talk to you, ultimately deciding against it. You had continued to ignore Yoongi’s presence in your workplace the whole time. He didn’t walk you home every night since. You had also begun texting Taehyung from time to time, and you both had settled on being just friends, since you learned you both much enjoyed each other’s goofy side. Your life was in a constant loop, going to work, ignoring Yoongi, reaching home, and sleeping, only to repeat the same schedule every other day of the week.

But today was a bit different. It was a Saturday night, and tonight was important for you, and every other employee. Tonight, all the heads and managers of the other branches of this ambiguous chain of luxury restaurants, were here to dine. Along with the CEO of this chain. You knew you were a waitress, but you had assisted in cooking tons of times before. Tonight they had all the experienced heads, like you assist in cooking, while they assigned the newly trained rookies as hosts and hostesses. You were all told to be super attentive and to make your nerves worse, you were being supervised by your head chef and manager Kim Seokjin.

But the timing was completely wrong. Today your thoughts about your personal life were unnecessarily heightened. Seeing Yoongi working his fingers across the monochrome keys of the sleek black piano, he himself being dressed in an all-black suit and shirt tailored to be strained across his firm chest, was extremely distracting. You tossed the meat into the pan, aware of the powerful gaze of Seokjin standing in the corner of the kitchen.

You tried to vaporize the alcohol by doing a simple flambé. You had done it tons of times before. You tilted the pan so the fire could catch the alcohol and a flame could erupt in your pan. But your mind being lost elsewhere you were shocked when the flame came on, and failed to move out of the way in time, burning your exposed forearm in the process. You yelped in surprise and pain as Maya took the pan from you for relief.

“Chef, focus! This is no time to slack!” Seokjin’s voice rang through the loud kitchen.

You huffed in annoyance and took the pan back from Maya explaining to her you’re okay, and began tossing the meat, ignoring the searing pain in your arm and the mark that was beginning to darken. As soon as all the dishes were made, you were given a 5 minute breather, till you waited for new customers to arrive. You stood in the corner, your hands cupping the burn on your hand in pain. You looked up in surprise when you heard a slam on the table in front of you. You watched Seokjin walk away, as you looked down at the ice pack he had left for you on the table. You couldn’t help but land a small smile as you iced the burn on your arm.

It wasn’t 10 minutes later, and you were already pan frying zucchinis and slicing cherry tomatoes. Your break had barely lasted 2 minutes, before you had been called in to make a very important dish for the CEO’s family which had just arrived. “Move it! Move it! We don’t want to keep Mr. Kang waiting!” you heard Seokjin clap his palms together.

What didn’t help your sense of urgency and added to the pressure was Yoongi entering the kitchen, as he stood in the corner having a chat with Seokjin. You knew that they were close, but you never knew Yoongi was close enough to lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder like that. You immediately placed the dish onto the counter, your mind distracted by Yoongi’s presence.

Before you knew it there was a sharp call of your name leaving Seokjin’s lips. “CHEF Y/N?!”

You rushed towards the counter, scared out of your wits. You watched as Yoongi’s eyes met yours in a sense of panic. “Y-Yes Mr. Kim?”

“DID YOU DROWN THIS SALMON IN THE PACIFIC OCEAN AND PLACE IT ON THE CEO’S PLATE?”

“N-No sir…”

“IT’S SALTIER THAN THE BOTTOM OF THE PACIFIC! YOU KNOW WHAT COULD’VE HAPPENED IF WE SEND THIS PLATE OUT? YOUR HEAD IS NOT IN THE GAME CHEF! WE DON’T HAVE ROOM FOR AMATEURS IN THIS ESTABLISHED CHAIN!”

“I-I’m sorry sir…” you said trying not to let the humiliation get to you.

“You are one of my trusted employees so this is a warning, but if this happens again, I’m gonna have to let you go, you understand that chef?” Seokjin finally calms down and says.

“Y-Yes sir…” you feel everyone’s eyes on you.

“Retire for the night chef. You’re too distracted. We’ll fill in with someone else. You can leave.” Seokjin announces before leaving the kitchen. You take off your apron and before any of the others can ask you any questions, you stride out the back door. You sit down on your heels in the dark alley and hold your head and pull on your hair in frustration.

Damn you Min Yoongi.

Your cheeks stained with long gone tears, you held a cigarette up to your lips, as you tried to calm yourself down. You heard the door to the kitchen creak open.

“Don’t try to ask me if I’m okay Jackie because frankly I’m n—” you speak out without looking.

“The name’s Yoongi, Min Yoongi. Not Jackie.” A low voice echoes down the walls of the alley.

All you can do is let out a huff of frustration and crush your cigarette under your shoe. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you… just wanted to check on you…”

“Since when do you care about my feelings?” you ask rhetorically, not expecting an answer.

“Since last month I suppose, since when we walked to your apartment that night.” His straight forward answer surprises you.

“What are we doing Yoongi?! What the hell is going on with us?!” you ask frustration lacing your tone. “We’re supposed to be fuck buddies. And we haven’t even had sex in 2 weeks! And before I know it, we’re sharing deep secrets with each other and talking to each other like we’ve known each other for years, and kissing each other like we’re in love—”

“Because I am in love.”

Yoongi stops your little rant and shocks you with his words. You weren’t expecting such a direct answer to leave his mouth. You stood up, brushing out your skirt and muttered softly. “W-What?”

“You heard me. I’m in love.” He enunciates.

“But why?” you ask, oblivious. “I’m damaged goods. I’m toxic. We both are in a toxic relationship.”

“But I’m willing to work to fix that.” Yoongi says with soft eyes. “I want to fix that gaping hole that the bastard left in your heart 6 years ago.”

“Listen I really like you too, but I don’t want to… hurt you…”

“You would never intentionally do that…”

“I-I’m not ready…”

“I’ll be here for you when you’re ready. This is new to me too! We can work through it together, please Y/N just trust me.”

You sigh loudly. Before you could think you grabbed his collar and landed a kiss on his lips. He stumbled, but eventually his arms snaked around your waist, holding you so tight, afraid to let you go. You broke the kiss and looked into his beautiful deep brown orbs. “You really wanna do this?”

“Yes.” He smiles and lands a small peck on your cheek.

You smack his chest playfully and say, “You’re creeping me out, what happened to the Yoongi who could never even give me a straight compliment?”

“Well I’m afraid someone changed him…” Yoongi says after thinking.

“Oh really? Who may that special someone be?” you smirk playfully.

“This woman at work. I’ve known her for 4 years, but never got around to talking to her until about 2 months ago.” He says chuckling.

“Wow what a coward.” You scoff.

“Well I don’t care, because I proudly simp for her now.” He says, his precious gummy smile making a rare appearance.

You tug his collar, and smile as you look into his eyes. You lean in painfully slow, your breath ghosting his lips, but never coming close enough to touch them. “Quit playing me like that.” Yoongi whines making you giggle.

“Well maybe I should—”

“Miss. Y/N— oh sorry, please meet me inside, I need to have a word with you chef.” Seokjin says from behind the door.

You immediately shove Yoongi away and walk back into the restaurant, your cheeks on fire. “Yes sir?” you say once you’re inside facing him.

“I’d expect you to be a bit more professional. I didn’t peg you as the type of person to have a romantic rendezvous behind your workplace, but go off I guess.” He sighs. “Well getting to the point, I just wanted to say that, please maintain your work ethic. Your professionalism is something I’ve always respected, and something that made you stand out in this field. And I’d love to keep you in this kitchen, so please focus on your job.”

“Yes sir.” You say softly, feeling a bit relieved.

“And… I apologize for over reacting a while ago. I was not in the right head space. It’s just the CEO never stops pestering me on the tiniest details, and I wanted to prove him wrong, and show him that I can run this place. So if he received an overly salted plate, he would hold that against me my whole life.”

“I understand sir. You don’t need to apologize. I’ll be sure to maintain my work ethic and never make a careless mistake like that again.” You say smiling.

“Great. Well have a good night chef.” He says before bowing in courtesy and exiting the empty kitchen. You noticed that all the dishes had been done, so you went back to grab your coat and exited the restaurant to your new life waiting for you in the dark alley.

You were pretty sure you made the cab driver uncomfortable, but it’s nothing he hadn’t seen before. You both had long forgotten the sweet kisses and passionate hugs you guys had given each other merely 30 minutes ago, when you confronted each other, and now you were busy devouring each other’s lips, your tongues twisted in a feverish make out session.

You stumbled into a familiar apartment, not yours, but in fact Yoongi’s. It had been 3 weeks since you’d last been here. You wasted absolutely no time as you both hurriedly discarded all your clothes onto the floor. Yoongi gripped your hip, with enough force to bruise it, as he lifted your form across the house and dropped you onto his bed. You drank in the familiar scent of Yoongi’s sheets around you, and the sight of a hovering Yoongi above you. His eyes mirrored yours, drowning in lust. His hair was disheveled and he looked at you with hunger. His lips landed on your neck, as you tilted your head the other way to make room for him to explore as much as he could. His hands ran along your sides as your hands raked his back. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you let out an uncontrollable moan, when you felt his teeth nip into the skin at your collarbone. You felt his warm tongue lick the mark he had made on you, as he continued his way down your torso.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“Bitch, we’ve fucked 15 times before!” you laugh out loud.

“Jeez woman, I’m out here trying to make it romantic, and you just rail me like that?”

“Just shut up and do it. I need you right now.” You whine, which seems to turn him on.

Your eyes flutter open and you’re surprised that you aren’t woken up by any displeasing noises. The sunlight partially blocked by the semi see-through blinds, cast a dim light in the room. You found your head resting on Yoongi’s chest, a soft rhythmic breath leaving his chest, sounding like music to your ears. Your hand laid across his naked chest, while his hand was wrapped around you, his palm laying across your bare back. You yawned and suddenly flinched when you felt Yoongi’s lips on your forehead.

“Good morning.” He said, his voice raspy and gruff.

“Good morning.” You reply smiling.

“I’ve never wanted to wake up next to someone this badly…” he sighs.

“Why’re you so cheesy? What happened to Yoongi? Who are you?”

“I don’t know Y/N… but I’m open to change.” He says smiling, looking down to meet your eyes.

You chuckle in response. You watch as his fingers run across your hand which is laying on his chest. His fingers brush your knuckles and he looks as though he’s in deep thought. “Where’s your ring?” he asks unconsciously.

“I took it off last night. It’s on your night stand.” You say smiling.

“Oh… well I hate to break it to you, and I know it’s a Sunday, but I booked us a brunch reservation at a nice café down the street.”

“You really didn’t have to…”

“But I did. We’ve been sleeping with each other for 2 months, and I haven’t taken you out on a proper date, like ever!”

“Well food does sound like a good idea, I’m starving.”

“Well then get your tiny tushie outta bed.” He says playfully pinching your cheek, and jumping out of bed to freshen up.

After you both had showered and gotten your clothes on, you were wearing your heels by the door, when Yoongi walked out of his bedroom, “You forgot this!” he says handing you your silver ring. His curious eyes watched, as you took the ring from him, and slipped it into your purse instead of putting it on your finger. “Come on let’s go.” You said grabbing his hand, unaware of the wide smile your bare hand had brought onto Yoongi’s face.

Brunch was delicious. And so was the dinner date you had a week later. 2 weeks had gone by, smooth sailing for your new relationship. Your fingers remained naked, no ring in trace, in the entirety of the last 2 weeks. It was a cold Friday night, and you were now sitting at the piano bench, in an empty restaurant. You glanced over your shoulder to see Yoongi’s eyes, focused on the keys in front of him. For once in a long time you could truly say you were happy. Your life was blissful.

“Y/N…?” Yoongi says interrupting your thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Could you sing…?”

“Sure.” You said smiling, as you already knew which song he wanted you to sing. You cleared your throat as you begun the first verse of ‘My Heart Will Go On’.

There you both were, all alone, doing the things you loved, with the person you loved beside you, and you couldn’t have asked for more. No more did you feel lost. No more did you think of love as a myth. You had finally found someone to keep your heart safe, in this cruel world. And you couldn’t be happier, that your savior was Min Yoongi.

«Previous :: Masterlist

A/N: Y’all I still can’t believe I wrote a whole ass series. I’m usually one to write really long oneshots or two shots, but I decided to turn this into a chapter wise series. Anyways, I hope you guys really liked it, and stay tuned for more works from me, in the near future :)

Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69 for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)

TAGLIST: @kookieebangtan

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hotpinkhoshi · 5 years

Text

the pact (1)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: sexual content, cursing, alcohol, cliche fwb to lovers, fuckboy!jb

word count: 6.5k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

A/N: this is the first fic i’ve posted in yearrsssss so please be kind! also, if there are any weird formatting issues please let me know, i had a hell of a time posting this and mostly could only edit on my ipad so it’s been rough. hopefully it looks normal on both the app and desktop website but if it doesn’t, send me a message!

↳ index here

This was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.

You’d had a rough day at work, only looking forward to one thing all day—having all your friends over for your monthly movie night that inevitably always ended up as a mess. Your co-worker, Yugyeom, and his best friend Bambam were usually the culprits, turning every movie into a drinking game. You’d come to expect it after the third time you’d had to push Bam out before he puked on your carpet.

Your two bedroom apartment was barely big enough for you, your roommate, and your four closest guy friends, but you made it work every month and it was just what you’d needed tonight after the day you’d had.

It wasn’t usually difficult work managing a bookstore, but this week had been one of your lowest yet with sales, and you’d had to field multiple customer complaints as well as employee drama. It’d been enough to build tension in your shoulders and make you especially thirsty for Yugyeom’s special sodas—three parts alcohol, one part Sprite.

It didn’t help that you’d just seen your longtime crush, Jaebeom, post on his Instagram story that he was out with a mystery girl you didn’t recognize but had everything you didn’t. Stylish clothes, ridiculous curves, natural beauty, and most importantly, she had Jaebeom.

You’d been pining after Jaebeom for as long as you could remember—since you were in middle school with him and Jinyoung, at least. You’d had a decent amount of boyfriends in the ten years that had passed since then, yet you couldn’t shake your infatuation.

To make your infatuation even worse, three weeks ago, you’d been out with the guys and when you ran into Jaebeom, he was three shots deep and you ended up making out with him in the men’s bathroom. It wasn’t quite the romantic encounter you’d built up in your head, but still. He had a way of kissing you that made you feel like maybe he’d been wanting you just as badly this entire time. But then that was it—besides a couple of random text messages, you’d barely spoken to him since then.

So you’d gone a little overboard and ended up on the kitchen floor, your head resting on your roommate Sana’s lap while Transformers played in the living room and the boys argued over autobots and decepticons.

“I just—he texted me last week, I told you, right? He asked what I was doing, but it was two in the morning so I didn’t see it until I woke up...”

Sana stroked your hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “You want me to be honest with you, right?”

“Yes, please.”

“Jaebeom is a textbook fuckboy. He texted you because he was horny and his other playthings probably ignored him, so you were likely the first female’s name that he saw while scrolling through his contacts.”

It was a harsh truth, but deep down you knew she was right. Still, it wasn’t so easy to just brush it off and forget about it. You couldn’t help wondering what exactly was wrong with you, why you weren’t good enough for him. Sure, you were a little bookish, and you weren’t skilled in the art of seduction, but he had kissed you. That meant something, didn’t it?

“Besides, I don’t even get why you like him so much. He doesn’t even have a real job—“

You interrupted, “He’s a musician!”

“—I said a real job. He’s not a musician, he’s a DJ that sometimes posts half assed thirty second clips on Soundcloud with vaguely sexual titles.”

You pouted, knowing that she was right, and buried your face into her lap. “But he’s so pretty,” you whined.

Sana rubbed your back like the good best friend she was. “I know, Y/N. I know. But he’s a scumbag, and there are better guys out there. Like, millions of them. He’s not worth laying on your kitchen floor crying over.”

“Who’s she crying over?”

You lifted your head to see Jinyoung standing in the kitchen doorway with the empty bowl of popcorn. Sighing, you pulled yourself up from the floor and slumped against the counter. “Is Jaebeom dating someone?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow and set down the popcorn bowl, then grabbed a fresh beer out of the fridge. “How should I know?”

“I don’t know, you’ve known him forever,” you replied with a shrug. “Don’t guys like, tell each other that stuff?”

“No,” Jinyoung answered with a snort. “We say, ‘hey, what’s up, man? How’s life?’ And then we give a noncommittal response, say we should grab a drink sometime to catch up, and then we never do.”

You pursed your lips together, crossing your arms. “Well, he posted one of those mirror selfies with some girl I’ve never seen before. The caption was ‘late night with bae’.”

You were saved a snarky response from Sana when there was a sudden raise in the volume in the living room, indicating the guys were getting out of hand again. Someone was yelling about spilled soju and Bambam was making noise simply to make noise, it seemed.

“If they stained the couch, I’m going to kill them,” she muttered before huffing off, prepared to put her foot down and wrangle the boys back to a reasonable sound level. Your neighbors had already called the landlord last week when Jackson stood out on the balcony belting out Boyz II Men at passing men and women.

While Jinyoung rinsed out the popcorn bowl, you scrutinized him. He was an acceptable man, right? He had a steady job at a publishing house, he was polite, kind, and made you laugh. He always surprised you with advanced copies of your most anticipated reads and he was probably the source of half the sales at your store. And yet, there were no butterflies when you looked at him. Not like there were when you saw Jaebeom.

But he was attractive, objectively. Jackson had told you the last time you’d bothered him for advice that the best way to get over someone was to get under someone new. And sex didn’t always have to mean anything between friends...

“Why are you staring?” Jinyoung asked when he finally noticed you were practically studying him.

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing.”

After grabbing a water bottle to sober up, you headed back into the living room to finish watching the movie. Clearly this train of thought was the result of too many special sodas, considering you’d never once in your life looked at Jinyoung as more than a close friend. It had always been about Jaebeom for you.

Besides, he’d dated Yeri for five years. Two of those were long distance while she studied in the states, and they’d broken up just a couple of months ago not long after she returned. Maybe that was why you’d never seen him as an option.

Two hours later, Bambam and Yugyeom had abandoned your movie night after being invited out to a new club by some pretty girls. It was predictable at this point, and you’d rather have them getting smashed out on the streets than in your apartment.

Sana had left you, Jackson, and Jinyoung with the task of cleaning up fallen popcorn and throwing away the many empty bottles scattered throughout the apartment. She’d cleaned up last month, it was your turn this time.

You felt almost sober by the time everything was cleaned up and Jackson left to meet up with the other boys, unable to resist a night out. By the time you collapsed onto the couch and switched the TV off, the only remains of your alcohol was the heaviness in your limbs.

Jinyoung dropped onto the couch next to you, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Tired?” he asked you, brows raised.

“A little.” You shrugged and pulled your legs onto the couch underneath of you, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Mostly just exhausted from the week. I think it’s just now hitting me.”

“Mm,” he agreed, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch. “Me too. Tonight’s the first time I got to leave the office before eight o’clock.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “You work too hard.”

Jinyoung chuckled. “I like my job. I enjoy the work, most of the time. Keeps my mind occupied.”

That, you understood. You’d always been one to ignore your life’s problems by throwing yourself into work, and you knew it was one of the reasons you’d never had a successful relationship and found it hard to keep friends outside of the circle you’d always had.

Or, there could have been one other reason you hadn’t ever been able to stay with one person for too long—Jaebeom. As pathetic as it sounded, you’d always compared other guys to him, and they fell short every time.

You caught your mind wandering to him yet again and mentally slapped yourself. That was it, you had to find a way to forget about him. Once and for all.

“How did you get over Yeri?” You asked, somewhat abruptly. It caught Jinyoung off guard, you could tell. He’d been broken up with her for almost two months now, and hadn’t mentioned her in almost as long.

Jinyoung furrowed his eyebrows, chewing at his lip for a moment as if carefully choosing his words. “I don’t— I mean, maybe I’m not. Over her.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. “You’re not? But it’s been two months, and I just kind of figured...”

He shrugged. “Some days are better than others. But every now and then, I feel like... like I’m still waiting for her to come back, and my whole life is on pause until she does.”

As far as you knew, Yeri had been the one to end things. Jinyoung was just too busy with work, he stayed late almost every night and she’d gotten tired of trying to schedule quality time with him weeks in advance. At least, that was as much as Jackson had told you.

You had no idea it would still be weighing on him, though. Jinyoung, of all people, was rarely shaken by anything. Always calm, calculated, and steady. No matter how long you’d known him, this was possibly the most he’d ever opened up to you.

“Sana thinks I need to get over my crush on Jaebeom,” you said as a slight change in subject, mostly because you had no experience in comforting Jinyoung and couldn’t begin to think of a proper response. “You know, for good.”

“You do,” Jinyoung responded with a light chuckle. “You’ve been obsessing over him since we were teenagers, and I have no idea why.”

You propped your sock covered feet on the coffee table, tipping your head back against the couch. “I don’t really know, either. I guess I just always thought... he’d settle down and want something serious, you know? He’d be done with the partying, the one night stands, the DJing, and he’d want...”

Trailing off, you chose not to finish the sentence because it was just too pathetic to say out loud. He’d want me.

Jinyoung was silent for a while before he leaned his shoulder into yours, a subtle gesture of comfort. “You deserve a lot better than him.”

When you were silent in response, Jinyoung nudged you again, more firmly this time. “Hey, you believe me, right? Don’t waste your worries on him, Y/N. There really are millions of better guys out there.”

Truthfully, you wanted to believe Jinyoung but there was still that nagging voice at the back of your head. Every relationship you’d ever had, and there weren’t many, had ended terribly. You’d been cheated on, lied to, and straight up ghosted. It was hard not to think maybe you were the problem.

You weren’t the most beautiful girl out there, you’d accepted that long ago. Not that you were hideous, but you knew there wasn’t much about your appearance that stood out to the average passerby. Looks weren’t everything, but they were still important.

“Would you have sex with me?” You blurted, realizing maybe you weren’t so sober after all. “I mean, hypothetically?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened and he stifled a cough, looking at you like you had two heads. “Sorry?”

“I mean,” you cleared your throat and stood up in front of him. Long sweater, leggings, faded makeup and all. “You’re a guy. If you saw me at a bar, or just walking on the street. Would you want to have sex with me?”

The tips of Jinyoung’s ears instantly turned a deep shade of pink and it looked for a moment as if he was trying to keep his eyes anywhere except your body. “I—“ he shook his head, then finally made eye contact with you. “Yes.”

It was a new feeling, seeing Jinyoung flustered like this. It didn’t happen often, but you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning. It occurred to you, suddenly, that Jackson might have been onto something.

“Do you want to... now?” You asked, faking confidence. Sex between friends didn’t have to mean anything, and you both had people you needed to get over. It made sense, at the end of the day. And you trusted him, you realized—a lot.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Jinyoung replied, shaking his head once more. “Why are you asking this right now?”

You took a deep breath. “You want to get over Yeri. I want to get over Jaebeom. It makes sense, right? We’re adults, we’re friends, and it wouldn’t be anything more than physical. Whenever we need to let off some steam or get our minds off of them, we can help each other.”

He looked away again, but you could tell with the way his jaw worked that he was considering it. Still, maybe he was the wrong person to ask. Jinyoung had never had casual sex, at least not that you knew of. He was a serious relationship kind of guy. You may have been better off asking one of the other guys.

“Okay.”

When he answered, your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“You might have a point,” Jinyoung admitted. “Part of the reason I can’t get over Yeri is because she’s the only girl I’ve ever been with. Memories of her are everywhere. But maybe,” he sighed, running his tongue over his lips. “Maybe we could make some new ones.”

The corner of your lip quirked up and you felt the satisfaction of winning, which truly didn’t happen often with Jinyoung. He was one of the most stubborn people you’d ever known, always having a comeback or a way to turn it around in his own favor.

“So...” you started, trying to hide your fidgeting fingers in the sleeves of your sweater. You decided to just go for it, lowering yourself onto the couch with your knees on either side of Jinyoung’s hips.

It felt awkward. This was your childhood friend, and you were about to have sex with him with absolutely no feelings involved. But as you settled onto his lap and he slid his hands up your thighs, you began to relax.

“So,” Jinyoung repeated, gripping your waist under your sweater. His hands were big and warm, and you instantly felt safe in his grasp. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”

When you nodded, Jinyoung leaned in slowly and carefully until his lips just barely brushed yours. He was gentle at first, until you tilted your head and kissed him back, your hands resting experimentally against his solid chest.

To be honest, it wasn’t bad. Jinyoung’s lips were soft and plump, and he kissed politely, waiting for permission to deepen it further.

So you gave it to him, sliding your arms around his neck and bringing your body flush against his, allowing his tongue entrance into your mouth. The two of you kissed until you were breathless, and you silently thanked the gods that Sana was a deep sleeper and there was little to no chance she’d walk in on you with your tongue down Jinyoung’s throat.

As polite as Jinyoung was, he didn’t hesitate to trace his hands up your bare sides, leaving goosebumps in his wake. It had been so long since you’d been touched like this, you’d forgotten how good it felt to be pressed up against a warm body, both of you desperately trying to get closer.

Even though he’d agreed to sleep with you, for some reason you were still surprised when you felt him harden underneath you. Part of you had been expecting him to end up repulsed or chicken out.

Something about the way he felt underneath of you had you rolling your hips into his, the obvious bulge in his pants pressing between your thighs just right. You let out a breathy moan into the kiss and Jinyoung pulled you down against him more firmly, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to rub you through your leggings.

A surprised moan slipped out and Jinyoung pulled away abruptly, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort. “Is that okay?”

You nodded quickly, grabbing his wrist and pressing his fingers back against your clit, sending warmth throughout your entire body. “Feels good,” you whispered, and you swore you felt Jinyoung’s cock twitch in his jeans.

“Bedroom?” Jinyoung asked, his fingers still drawing slow circles that were starting to make your brain fuzzy.

“Please,” you responded, and before you could make a move to stand up, Jinyoung was grabbing your thighs and wrapping them around his waist, lifting you from the couch like you weighed nothing. When had he gotten so strong?

He somehow got you to the bedroom smoothly, only stopping once to press you into the hallway and scatter kisses across your neck. Then he finally set you down after shutting your bedroom door behind you and you took the opportunity to lift his shirt up over his head.

You knew Jinyoung worked out regularly, but you had no idea he looked like that under his clothes. A firm chest, wide shoulders, and an actual six pack. If you’d known he was this ripped, maybe you would’ve tried to make this arrangement sooner.

“Seriously?” You asked, running your fingers down the lines of his abs. “Have you always looked like this?”

Jinyoung’s ears flushed again. “You know I like exercising. What did you expect?”

Shrugging, you settled your hands at his belt and ran your fingers along the metal of the buckle. “I don’t know. Now I’m a little scared to take your pants off, I mean, what have you got hiding there?”

He cringed, grabbing your hips and pulling you against him once more. “Oh, god. Please never say that again.”

Your giggle was cut off by Jinyoung’s lips pressing into yours again. This time the kiss was more heated, wet and punctuated by little nips to your lower lip. When he finally rid you of your sweater, you were so turned on you forgot to be insecure about him seeing your body for the first time.

Jinyoung laid you down on the bed, cradling his hand behind your head as it hit the pillows. His lips were on your collarbone in an instant and you slid your fingers through the soft strands of his hair, tugging in appreciation when he started sucking a hickey into your skin.

Tracing your sides with his fingertips once more, Jinyoung squeezed your hips and pulled back, sitting back on his heels to look down at you. His eyes raked your body from your face down to your waist, to where your legs were spread for him to lay between.

“Should we—“ Jinyoung swallowed, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. “Should we make some ground rules?”

It was fitting that he would be the one to suggest boundaries, but he had a point. Just because you trusted him and were both aware that it would be just sex, no feelings, didn’t mean it couldn’t get messy.

“Good idea,” you breathed, pushing hair out of your face. You’d never done this before, you didn’t even know where to start.

“Honesty,” Jinyoung started, his face looking quite serious despite the fact that he had a massive bulge in his jeans and he was naked from the waist up. “We tell each other what’s working, what’s not... what feels good, what doesn’t.”

Nodding, you agreed, “And, we have to tell each other if we start sleeping with someone else.”

“Or if we start to fall in love,” Jinyoung said, catching you off guard. Love? It hadn’t even crossed your mind.

He seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat, and you tried to ignore the adorable blush that was creeping onto the apples of his cheeks. “No feelings, right?”

You held your hand out. “Deal.”

Jinyoung smirked, then reached his hand out to clasp yours, shaking it just once. “Deal. Want me to eat you out now?”

You coughed in surprise. Was he always this forward with girls? If so, what was Yeri thinking walking away from him like that?

When you realized he wasn’t kidding, not even a little, as his hands played with the waistband of your leggings, you nodded once. “Okay. But I’m not—I wasn’t really expecting anyone to see me naked...”

Though you knew there was no good reason to be insecure, it was just Jinyoung, you squirmed your hips regardless when Jinyoung started to remove your leggings. “You want me to be honest?” He asked, tossing the ball of fabric behind him once you were left in just your bra and underwear.

“That’s the idea, right?”

“Right.” He scooted down the bed and laid between your legs, his shoulders nudging your knees apart to give him more room. “I don’t care. Most guys don’t. Besides, the underwear is cute.”

Blushing, you turned your face towards the pillow. You vaguely remembered mindlessly picking out a pair of snowmen underwear, simple cotton hipsters that were far from seductive. Though he said he didn’t care, you couldn’t help the knot of embarrassment in your stomach.

“Shut up.” You chewed your lip, then lifted your head to look down at him. “Guys really don’t care? About... what it looks like down there?”

Jinyoung held back another chuckle. “No. You care way more than we do, apparently. At the end of the day, if it’s the right guy, we just want to be inside of you. And if it’s really the right guy, we just want to make you feel good. Nothing else matters.”

It relieved some of your anxiety, but you still couldn’t look at his face as he pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them to the floor. You trusted him, more than most guys you’d ever met, but he was about to get closer to you than even some of the men you’d slept with.

“Relax,” Jinyoung whispered and you conceded, laying your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes. “Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

You nodded, tapping your hands awkwardly against the covers until you felt his fingers intertwine yours, holding them against the bed next to your hips.

He started slow. Kissing your thighs, building it up, getting closer and closer to your heat before finally, he licked one single strip from your entrance up to your clit. You whimpered involuntarily, not realizing how sensitive you’d be.

How long had it been, anyway? At least six months since the last time you’d had sex, and much longer since you’d had a man’s face between your thighs.

Then he locked his lips around your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking, until you were squeezing his hands so hard you were sure you left nail marks in his skin. You had to remind yourself Sana was just a couple of rooms over, and though she was a deep sleeper she’d most definitely wake up to you moaning at the top of your lungs.

“Faster,” you told him, still unable to open your eyes but he listened immediately, quickening the pace of his tongue against your clit. You whined breathlessly, hips lifting in an attempt to just feel more.

Jinyoung let go of one of your hands only to slide it down to meet just underneath his chin, taking the wetness that had gathered on two of his fingers before slowly inching them inside of you.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, moving your now free hand to clamp onto the back of Jinyoung’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. “Deep. Deeper, with your fingers,” you told him, words rushing together because you felt like you were going a little bit insane.

So he obeyed, pushing his fingers through your walls until he couldn’t go any further. He let you adjust, then began a slow, delicious pace inside of you. You could feel sweat pooling in your collarbone just from the heat Jinyoung was making you feel.

“Pull my hair,” Jinyoung whispered, and you didn’t have time to question it before you were doing as he said. He moaned into your clit and you arched your back, your mouth gaping open just as you remembered you needed to stay quiet.

He knew what he was doing, you could tell that much. Not only that, he enjoyed it. You could tell just from the quiet groans he’d let out when you clenched your walls around his fingers, like he was getting as much pleasure from this as you were.

“J-Jinyoung,” you stuttered, feeling the pressure start to build in your belly, your toes beginning to curl. He stared up at you, mouth still buried into your pussy. “I’m... I’m close, but I—“ you groaned. “I want you. Please.”

Within a second, Jinyoung was slipping his fingers from your folds, popping them into his mouth to get a taste and using his other hand to undo his belt. He worked fast, pushing his jeans down his thighs and kicking them off the bed with his underwear.

“Nightstand,” you breathed, taking your opportunity to check him out, head to toe. His dick was pretty. And that was truly the first time you’d ever thought that about anyone. You shifted your hips on the bed, desperate to have him fill you up.

It was new to feel this needy, and for Jinyoung of all people. The guy you’d known since you were both in your awkward phase, scrawny limbs and terrible clothing. He’d seen you throw up on your own shoes, and you’d seen him dance to Backstreet Boys at your high school talent show.

And yet, here you were, naked and wet underneath of him as if none of that mattered.

Jinyoung shoved his hand into your nightstand drawer until he found the box of condoms, grabbing one and tossing the nearly full box to the floor in his haste to get inside of you. You watched as he rolled it on, and it finally hit you that this was happening. It was almost too late for either of you to change your minds.

“This is your last chance,” you said, finally looking up from his cock to his eyes. “If you want to stop, if you think it’s a bad idea—“

Jinyoung cut you off with his lips once more, his hand grabbing onto your thigh to hook it around his waist. “I’m not changing my mind. Are you?” He whispered against your lips and you felt him hard against your stomach.

“No,” you answered. “I want it.”

He pulled away and locked eyes with you, a smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah?” His tongue ran over his lower lip and he reached down, guiding his cock up your folds until the head nudged your clit. “I can tell.”

Even though he was clearly just as desperate, you blushed and pinched his arm. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

Jinyoung’s eyes lit up and he chuckled, lowering his hips until you felt him at your entrance. “I had no idea you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He paused for a moment, making sure you were ready, then pushed inside of your heat.

While you’d just had his fingers inside of you, you would’ve never been able to tell with the way you squeezed around him. It was uncomfortable at first, but the feeling ebbed away quickly the more of him you took inside.

“Oh,” you breathed, and Jinyoung echoed your reaction with a groan.

“Tight,” he whispered, dropping his head down to your shoulder.

As soon as he’d filled you to the hilt, you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped from your lips. It was the best kind of stretch, putting every one of your nerves on edge. He stayed like that for a long moment, letting your walls adjust to his length.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you shifted, tightening your leg around his waist. “Move. Please.”

Jinyoung’s movements were controlled and slow, but it was as if he knew all of the sensitive places in your body already. You gasped, your hands sliding up his back until they gripped tightly to his shoulder blades.

The way he fit inside of you felt incredible, and you weren’t sure it had ever felt quite like this, even with ex-boyfriends. Everywhere your body met with his felt like it was on fire, and as Jinyoung quickened his pace, you found it harder and harder to stay quiet.

His name fell from your lips over and over, and you could tell Jinyoung was holding back—when he lifted his head from your shoulder, his brows were knitted together in concentration. You slid your nails down his back, relishing in the way he shivered in response.

“God, you’re driving me insane,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Spread your legs more. Yeah, just like that.”

“Mm, faster,” you told him, clenching around him once he was all the way inside. “You don’t have to be gentle with me.”

“Fuck—“ Jinyoung groaned, hands squeezing the sheets where he held himself above you.

If someone had told you twelve hours ago that Jinyoung would have you covering your own mouth to muffle your moans while he drilled into you, you probably would have thought they were crazy. But here you were.

Jinyoung reached down, slipping his hand under your back to unhook your bra, pulling it off in one smooth movement. He cursed under his breath once you were exposed to him completely, breasts bouncing each time he filled you up.

“God,” he whispered, hand trailing down your chest until the tip of his index finger grazed over your nipple, a featherlight touch. You shivered, arching your back towards his hand. “Tell me what you like.”

Normally, it took you months to let your boyfriends know what you liked in bed and how you liked to be touched, but honesty was your number one rule in this agreement. There was no point in holding back.

“I like it deep, just like this,” you told him. Jinyoung seemed to just know already, or maybe that was how he liked it too. He was always the intense type, it made sense if it had transferred over to the bedroom. “I like it when you tell me how it feels, what you want to do.”

Your words were finished off by a moan that you were sure Sana could have heard if she weren’t asleep, and just the thrill of being caught was enough to send a wave of heat through your body.

When Jinyoung locked eyes with you, there was a hint of something new, like you’d unlocked a part of him that you’d never seen before. He smirked.

“Next time,” Jinyoung started, thrusting deep inside of you, “you won’t have to keep quiet. I’ll take you to my place, and when I’m inside of you, you can be as loud as you want.” His hand slid down your torso, over the sensitive skin of your stomach until it rested on your hip.

Next time. Just the idea of being with him again, though you probably wouldn’t admit it, excited you. It filled your mind with a flash of scenarios and possibilities, all the different ways he could make you feel good.

“Jinyoung, I—“ you moaned, biting hard onto your lip to silence yourself. Jinyoung brought his other hand to your mouth, thumbing your lip until you were forced to stop biting it.

“Would you like that?” he asked, the pace of his thrusts quickening. “Maybe I can bend you over the back of the couch, windows open for everyone to hear you crying out. Is that what you want?”

Your eyes squeezed shut, gasping as the mental image went straight between your legs where he filled you up so perfectly.

“Answer me.” His voice was deep but stern at your ear, and you knew his question was not rhetorical.

“Yes,” you replied, digging your nails into his back. “God, yes. Make me scream your name, Jinyoung.” And he almost did, as he attached his lips to your neck and bit down, teeth scraping against your tender skin just as he slammed inside of you.

You were close again, and you knew it wouldn’t take much more to send you tumbling over the edge. His thrusts were so deep and powerful that you knew you’d be aching tomorrow, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t get enough,” he said, voice husky and low against your neck where you could tell he was working on marking you. He could’ve left the biggest, reddest hickey for all to see and you couldn’t have cared less right now. It didn’t even cross your mind that this was meant to be just between the two of you.

You whimpered when his hand drifted from your hip to the place where your bodies met. He placed his thumb right against your clit and pressed quick circles into your most sensitive spot, and you had to restrain yourself from moaning out.

Jinyoung must have sensed this, because he pulled away from your neck and stared down at you, slipping his opposite thumb into the wetness of your mouth. “Suck.”

If you weren’t close before, you were now. You wrapped your lips around his thumb and did as you were told, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking on Jinyoung’s digit as it rested on your tongue.

As his gaze locked on yours, you found yourself unable to look away. He commanded every bit of your attention, his eyes filled with desire and pleasure that you were responsible for. Your heart pounded in your chest, overwhelmed with need.

Although Jinyoung didn’t say a word, you could read it in his eyes—cum for me. He drew tight circles against your clit, his fast pace relentless inside of you. His stamina was something else, you thought to yourself. He didn’t even look mildly tired out.

You grabbed at Jinyoung’s wrist with your hands, needing something to grip onto but you also desperately needed to keep your mouth occupied so that you didn’t wake your roommate and the neighbors with your cries.

Then something snapped. The tension got to be too much and your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami, causing your back to arch and your thighs to shake, caging Jinyoung’s waist in and slowing his movements.

He still fucked you through your high and kept his fingers moving until he was sure you had come down. Once he was, he brought a hand up to push your hair away from your face, pressing his lips into your forehead.

“Good girl,” he whispered and you sighed, your limbs finally relaxing in exhaustion. You would’ve never guessed that Jinyoung would be the one to give you what was possibly the best orgasm you’d had in years. Polite, calm, and serious Jinyoung. The same Jinyoung that could barely look you in the eye when you wore a bathing suit in front of him.

His climax wasn’t far away, you knew that much. And you were thankful too, because you were already starting to feel sore and overstimulated, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

You wrapped your arms around him, your fingertips gripping deep into his skin, undoubtedly leaving scratch marks down his back. It was only fair, you figured. You slipped one hand into his hair and tugged, harder than before.

“Shit,” Jinyoung moaned, his thrusts becoming less controlled and more shallow. You pulled his hair again, your nails scraping against his scalp, and that was it for him.

He pushed inside one last time, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn’t help clenching your walls around him as he came. He was mostly silent save for one throaty groan into your neck, a sound you were sure you wouldn’t soon forget.

You felt him relax a long moment later and he slowly pulled back away from you, stroking the side of your face with his fingertips. “That was...”

All you could do was nod, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Yeah...” Your heart was still racing from your orgasm, but the haze of your desire was starting to fall away, reminding you of reality.

You’d just had sex with Jinyoung. One of your best friends. What would happen now? Would it be awkward from now on, now that you’d seen each other naked? You’d literally had him inside of you. Something told you it’d be difficult to come back from that.

Jinyoung finally pulled out of you a moment later to remove the condom and put it in the trash, and you were eternally grateful that you had the master bedroom with the attached bathroom. For one, you could watch his backside as he went to get a washcloth, and you also didn’t have to leave your bedroom until both of you were fully cleaned up.

You shifted on the bed while you waited for Jinyoung to return, trying to ease your worries. The two of you had been friends so long, you figured it would take more than one hook-up to ruin it all.

Once Jinyoung came back with a wet cloth and climbed onto the bed, you told yourself you’d worry about it tomorrow.

You both got cleaned up and while Jinyoung got dressed, you grabbed your robe and wrapped it around yourself so that you could walk him to the door. Both of your footsteps were as silent as possible, careful not to wake your roommate.

“Jinyoung,” you said, as he slipped his shoes back on.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” you whispered, chewing nervously at your lip. You didn’t quite know what you were thanking him for, but you felt the need to say it anyway. Some part of you felt so grateful to him that you couldn’t let him leave without making him aware.

Jinyoung’s lips quirked just a bit. “You too,” he tucked your disheveled hair behind your ear. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

You nodded. “Drive safe.”

The moment Jinyoung was out of the apartment, your body leaned limply against the door as you stared up at the ceiling. No, this was not how movie night was supposed to have gone.

#okay soooooo here we go please be nice!!!#got7 #got7 fanfic #jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 fic #got7 smut #jinyoung fic #jinyoung smut #got7 scenario #got7 reaction #park jinyoung smut #jinyoung fanfic #kpop #kpop imagine #got7 imagine #jinyoung imagine #writing

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ubemango · 4 years

Text

asshole fwb!jk (4/4): quad confessions

I don’t know why I took so long to upload this lol. Oc be like *moving on* ! This takes place after the second drabble

read the other ones here: one two three

You don’t go home with him that night. Couldn’t keep that grind on his cock like you thought you could because people kept jostling you with their sweaty asses and Jeongguk was falling asleep right under your nose. Dayoung isn’t there for you to say goodbye to, Hoseok’s gone off again. Nothing for you to indulge in the name of greed. So you leave, and the next time you hear about Jeongguk you realize he’s back to talking to Yerin again.

“This bitch,” Dayoung says under her breath one day at the quad. And when she’s pissed she’s not as careful to smoke away from your face and you choke. “Oh shit, sorry. Jeongguk just—man. You really fucked him.”

“You’re so mean,” you whine. You won’t refute the anger though. You’re just as annoyed. Dayoung is nice enough to keep you company before your next class stars, lets you stew in your anger with supervision so that you don’t unblock Jeongguk’s number.

“Whatever. Yerin’s stupid anyway. Her asshole’s gaping from all that Jeongguk love shit she keeps in her ass. Who even likes someone that stinky?”

You do. But you don’t say that. “I don’t know if you’re trying to make me feel better or not.”

“Point is, you’re doing good.” Dayoung scoffs. “You’re doing great. Who told you they were together anyway?”

“Sowon.” Yerin’s lab partner and your group study leader. In other words: a double agent for your side.

“Ah.”

“Told me yesterday when we were in the library. That he’s talking to Yerin.”

The door across the quad opens, right from Humanities. Two people walking across the grass like it’s a perfect college pamphlet.

It’s Jeongguk. And that’s not Yerin he’s got his arm around, kisses like there’s no one watching.

“Christ,” Dayoung says, and then her eyes get sharp. “Wait.”

You almost laugh. But you realize it too. “That’s—”

“Taeha,” she breathes.

The hurt settles. For Dayoung, who’s crushed on cute Taeha from her Kinesiology class since forever; for you, because of course you had to like stupidity incarnate. Maybe this was destiny trying to say that you and Dayoung were really meant to be roommates.

You both got fucked over by the same guy.

You watch her eyes shake. “Huh.”

“Da—”

“Nah.” She gets up, stomps her cigarette to scraps under her boot. “Nah. Just gonna… go. See you later. Go buy those spicy shrimp chips please.”

Her comfort food. You wave her off with a sigh, and you know full well Jeongguk’s spotted you when you hear someone jogging over. Taeha’s gone off with a confused look, like she doesn’t know where Jeongguk’s headed. She walks away when she catches your eye. A silent understanding in her hesitation, your rigid posture.

“Yo,” is all he says for greeting.

“You’re stupid,” you greet back.

He sits down in Dayoung’s spot. “Not this again.”

“No I fucking mean it this time.” You’re not gonna hide the crack in your voice because Jeongguk looks guilty, and that’s new. How badly you want to wrangle at his stupidly thick throat right now. “Dayoung’s practically in love with Taeha. Everyone knows that. The teachers know that. You know that. You know everyone’s little secrets because you can’t help but waltz into everyone’s business. You know what that is? Pretty privilege.”

Jeongguk looks taken aback. “I don’t have pretty privilege—”

“That’s exactly what someone with pretty privilege says because they’re stupid,” you emphasize. There’s no room for any other adjective but you can’t think straight. “And how’d you even know I was gonna be here anyway?”

“I still have your schedule saved on my phone,” Jeongguk reasons simply.

“What the fuck. Who—what?” You’d give everything to text Dayoung the shit he’s putting you through right now but you stay still. “Like you do realize what you’re doing right. You’re not that dumb.”

He throws his arms up. “Well I wouldn’t fucking know because all you call me is stupid—”

“Because you are, fuck! Who does that! I sent you that schedule once because you wanted to know if I had an early class the next morning, which is a nice thing to do. You know what happens when you do nice things for people when you’re that pretty? They like you. I liked you.” The distinction is clear. Even Jeongguk has the nerve to look surprised. “Yerin likes you. God that girl would do anything for you, you know that? Doesn’t even know you were fucking me and now you’re with Taeha of all people and you’re ruining everything. You’re ruining everything!”

“You don’t need to yell.” Jeongguk says. “I get it, Jesus.”

“You’re fucked,” you continue. Shaking through your anger, exhaustion. “No you’re past that. You know how fucked you have to be to go beyond fucked? What’s worse than that? This—you’re so fucking annoying.”

“You don’t think that.” You see now what Dayoung’s been warning you about. That little tilt of his head, the glow in his eyes. Trying to get you to back down like some predator grooming its prey into obedience. He wants you pliant. He takes what he wants the way he wants to do it. “You don’t.”

“Stop trying to manipulate me, I know what you’re doing. God I’ve been stupid too but I get it now,” you laugh this time.

Jeongguk looks exasperated. “You get what?”

“You’re horny,” you explain. “Horny makes you stupid. But you’re so stupid anyway the horny made it like, exponentially worse.”

“Where are you going?” He watches you stand up with wide eyes, collecting your stuff, yourself. Your class doesn’t start for another hour. “What—”

“I’m going. For good. Don’t ask Dayoung to unblock your number, she’ll probably kick your ass anyway. Please wear condoms if you’re gonna fuck Yerin. Or not because I’m gonna go tell her that you’re fucking Taeha now. Also why did you come here if you wanted to talk to me?”

Jeongguk shrugs, already looking uninterested. He’s lost you but the consolation’s already in the million other girls he can play around with. “Horny.”

“Fuck you,” you deadpan. Your backpack is heavy on your shoulders but somehow you feel free. “I’ll see you around.”

“You still have the best pussy,” he calls out when you’ve trod away.

(When you wait in line at the convenience store with an extra bag of spicy shrimp chips, you delete his number.)

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts #jungkook #ubemango fic #drabble

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gcvalas-blog · 6 years

Text

hi babes! i’m syd (or squid, you with the face, you know, whatever, i’m not a picky cephalopod) and i’m hella excited to be here! i’m very new to the whole, structured group rp concept on tumblr thing, so this is all basically a series of new experiences that i’m pumped to have with you all! anywho, if you wanna plot, come slide into my dms, either just in general or to get my discord i’m a paranoid cephalopod so i don’t wanna like, just have that sitting out where just anyone can find it !! without further ado, i give you jack!

[ michael vlamis, cisgender male, he/him, 27 ] FREEDOM by DOROTHY? whenever i hear that song, it reminds me of JACKSON “JACK” GAVALAS. maybe because they’re FREE-SPIRITED but also RECKLESS. they’ve been living at mulberry apartments since OCTOBER of 2018 in APARTMENT 507 and have 1 ROOMMATE**. ( LANDSLIDE, COME OUT AND PLAY) [ syd, they/them, 18+, pst ]

BASICS:

Name: Jackson Bennett Gavalas Nickname(s): Jack, Gavalas Age: 27 Birthday: July 7, 1991

BACKGROUND:

he spent most of his early years an only child, growing up outside of baltimore

his mom was never really in the picture. he doesn't know too much about what went down between her and his dad, but she gave full custody of him to his dad and vanished when he was just a few years old

his dad remarried, and jack found himself with a brand new baby sister (@ftspcncer) he absolutely adores to this day

he wasn't a bad kid, though he could be a little hotheaded, and chasing the next adrenaline rush sometimes had him returning home sporting some new scrape or bruise

he was and is a total nerd, though. he was on the robotics team in high school, and if his family had had the money to send him straight to university, he'd have been a mechanical engineering major

as it stands, he did well enough in school that he got scholarships from the colleges he applied to—they just weren't enough to offset the cost, and he wasn't going to put their family into debt if he could help it

instead, at eighteen, fresh out of high school, he enlisted in the navy—at first a five-year commitment as an engineman, which he then re-upped for another three years—and remained until he felt it was time to do something else with his life, upon which point he moved to baltimore proper

if you asked him why he enlisted, he'd say it was a way to jump-start his life without having to worry so much about the cost of it all, which would be true, but he also did it seeking adventure

he went out of his way to keep in contact with his family, sending emails, letters, postcards, and the occasional trinket from his travels, as well as doing his best to fit in regular skype and phone calls. and if he had more than a few days leave, you bet your butt he was coming home to spend time with his family

he's had some hiccups in adjusting to civilian life, still less than a year out of the navy. he's up at odd hours, sometimes, and the loose structure of day-to-day life (even with him taking community college classes as a full-time student) without specific checklists of duties can get daunting. those especially are the days he'll disappear into the gym or spend all day just driving so he can get out of his own head for a bit

PERSONALITY:

he's a thrill-seeker (always has been) and a fan of just being outside. he was the kind of kid who climbed trees and just kind of laughed it off if he fell out, and shrugged off most injuries. he's also the kind of guy who got his motorcycle license very shortly after his regular driver's license, had worked his ass off saving up for his own bike, and very happily used it as his preferred mode of transportation

he likes having other people around, even if he's not talking to them. jack and quiet spaces don't mix well—he'd rather go to a crowded park or a bar to do work for class than sit in a library

don't get me wrong, though, he's the grumpiest mofo without his coffee, or if he doesn't get at least three or four hours of sleep (or a combination thereof). he's a morning person out of force of habit, not of his own volition, and it's glaringly apparent when his equilibrium is thrown off

he can also get irritable if he's having a particularly bad tinnitus day. he hates having to ask people to repeat themselves, but sometimes he has to, and it puts him in a bad mood

he tries very hard to be an optimist with a positive outlook on life, which is absolutely hilarious when coupled with his foul mouth. he does his best to keep it to a minimum (or, rather, he tries to keep it on the tamer end of things, at least) but sometimes an f-bomb slips out in the middle of a perfectly good sentence in what might be considered 'polite company'

he can be a goof. he loves life and wants to just have fun with it. he is absolutely your best bet if you're trying to find a friend to go on a 2 am trip through the city for ice cream, or if you want to drag someone along to hit up every thrift store in the city (but also like, never play pool against him. he will hustle you, and he might not give you your money back once you realize he's actually really good)

he also has a huge heart. he makes friends easily and tries to make time for anyone who needs him around

that being said though he's kind of a commitmophobe. he draws the line at anything beyond fwb, especially after opening his heart to a guy he thought he really had something with who never called him back (who is one of his connection songs ;3)

on a related note, he has a heavy preference for dating men, though he's equal opportunity when it comes to bedfellows

he's just a huge puppy you guys (a friendly german shepherd puppy who cannot be left unsupervised because he'll get himself into some kind of mischief)

ADDITIONAL (random) FACTS:

for a smart guy, he can be kinda dumb when it comes to technology, especially social media. he only has facebook down because he joined not too long after he enlisted, because it was the best way of keeping in touch with people coming and going with their deployments and stationings (someone pls teach him what twitter and instagram are)

he's still not quite used to cooking for himself. tv dinners and other microwavable goodies all the way, with the occasional boil-able frozen food thrown in (he'll get there eventually, he just doesn't often remember he has to make food until he's too hungry to go through the work of preparing a meal from scratch)

he has both the best and worst fashion sense. he's perfectly at home in steel-toed boots, snug jeans and a leather jacket, but he's also regularly wearing truly gaudy, loud print button-ups. it's kind of a signature look, at this point

he’s a baseball fan. he played club most of the way through school, and still kept up with the world series while he was deployed

he has days where he desperately misses being at sea. he has a hammock hung by the window in his room for the days he really needs to feel something similar to the sway of a ship on the waves, but other times he has to be down in the harbor, feeling the wind on his face and listening to the sounds of a busy port

he’ll answer to gavalas about as fast as if not faster than he will jack, and will answer to either a hell of a lot faster than he’ll answer to jackson

he picked up an infrequent smoking habit while in the navy. if you ask him, he'll say he's “pretty much” kicked it, especially now that he's out, as he was mostly a social smoker, but if you searched his room, you'd probably manage to find either a few loose cigarettes or part of a pack, which he's usually gotten off of someone else

#soundintro #this may have gotten away from me a lil bit #anyway come plot!! i promise i don't bite <3333

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edsbrak · 7 years

Text

sixteen weeks (chapter 2)

pairing: reddie chapters: 2/? rating: explicit tags: college AU, FWB

read on Ao3

Summary: Eddie and Richie are roommates in college, and after the events of one drunken confession they both agree it wouldn’t hurt to start casually hooking-up. Things go about as well as expected.

warnings for this chapter: nsfw content

I finished this chapter so quickly because you guys had such amazing responses, I feel so happy to see people are liking it so far! :D

enjoy!

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

When Eddie wakes up the next morning his groggy-as-shit mind oh so helpfully supplies him with immediate flashbacks to the days when he went too hard in his youth, and then his next thought is God I hope I didn’t do anything too stupid last night.

10:33 AM his phone reads.

He rolls over in bed and away from the small puddle of drool he only ever makes whenever he goes to sleep drunk. He’s sure he must look like a mess right now, but he’s infinitely glad there was no one around to observe him in his pathetic hung-over state. Wait… Richie.

Eddie rubs tiredly at his eyes, and sees that his roommate’s bed wasn’t currently occupied. Not that that wasn’t a regular occurrence, but Eddie was sure Richie had walked back with him to their room last night.

Idiot, just because you were on the verge of passing out doesn’t mean Richie went to sleep too.

Eddie figures he probably slept somewhere else last night. Maybe at Ben and Bev’s, or… that girl’s? At least, Eddie thinks there was a girl involved at some point during the party. Eddie turns his head and groans pathetically into the pillow, but draws back instantly when he feels the amount of grease rubbing off his nose. He’s overwhelmed with the sudden need to shower, but before he can even drag his sorry ass out of bed, the door to their room opens and in steps Richie with a brown McDonald’s bag.

“Morning, sunshine,” he greets, and Eddie covers up his face with both hands in shame. He thinks he hears Richie snort to himself.

Curious, Eddie peaks through his fingers and watches as Richie pulls out a to-go cup of coffee and sets it down on Eddie’s nightstand.

“Thought you might need it,” he shrugs casually. More items suddenly appear and Eddie’s senses are filled with the delicious smell of ridiculously bad-for-you food that almost causes him to moan. “Also figured you’d need a ShamWow treatment for all that booze. Hash browns and muffins okay?”

“God, yes,” Eddie almost whispers.

“Here,” Richie hands him one greasy golden oval of pure joy, to which Eddie proceeds to shove half in his mouth shamelessly.

After that he tries to savour it but fails epically, and once he’s done he can’t help but wonder why Richie was being so nice about everything when Eddie is like 96 percent sure he threw up on Richie a little bit at some point in the night. Eddie wouldn’t be so quick to forgive if it were him.

“Thanks, for all of this,” Eddie tells him. “And for… last night. I hate to think I ruined the party for you.”

Richie waves his free hand at him. “It’s fine, really. I was ready to hit the hay anyway. I gotta admit it was entertaining seeing you like that, though.”

Eddie closes his eyes and winces inwardly. “Shit. I didn’t do anything that would come back to haunt me eventually, right? Please say no.”

“Uh,” Richie says, but there’s an obvious pause. “No. You’re fine.”

“What?” Eddie asks, unable to help himself. If he’d managed to tarnish what little reputation he had in this college then… fuck. “I change my mind – tell me.”

Richie rubs at the back of his neck, and he’s smiling slightly, which Eddie reasons it can’t be that bad. “You uh… well, before you passed out, you did ask me… if we could… hook up.”

Eddie literally feels his eyes widen and he shoots upwards in panic mode, instantly causing his head to swear at him in multiple languages. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck he thinks rationally.

“I did what now?”

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” Richie insists as he raises both hands. “I was flattered, I guess. But I feel like I should say I’m not exactly looking to date right now or anything—”

“Oh, god, fuck my life,” Eddie whimpers, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. “I’m sorry, I – shit, have I just made things super awkward now? I mean, I know you’re cool with the whole gay thing, but I never meant—”

“Hey, wait,” Richie interrupts, but luckily he doesn’t sound angry. “You know I’m – I mean, I’m bi, so…”

Eddie blinks slowly, like he’s just learnt a new word. “O-oh… I… I didn’t know that, no…”

“Ah, well,” Richie smiles genuinely. “It’s not like we’ve ever made much effort to learn about each other.”

“Yeah… right.” Eddie says, feeling guilty even when he has no reason to be. “But, anyway… I just, sorry again, and I know for a fact it was just my drunk, lonely ass just wanting some company. We can totally brush it off. Forget it happened and just go back to being roommates. Sound good?”

Richie’s frowning now, and desperate for something to do Eddie reaches for his coffee and practically burns his tongue off, but soldiers through the pain if it means avoiding this embarrassing conversation. Richie is still quiet and Eddie is sure any second he’ll tell Eddie to go fuck himself for being a creeper in the first place.

“Well, I mean…” Richie starts, as if this entire situation was like any other reasonable discussion he’s had. “We can, if you really want to. I’m game.”

Eddie chokes on the coffee that was still running down his throat. He looks at Richie as if he’d just grown several heads. Surely it couldn’t be this simple, right? “Um, what?”

Richie remains nonchalant. “Roommates with benefits, you said? Not the worst idea ever.”

“What the hell is happening?” Eddie asks his coffee before looking back up to Richie. “You said it yourself we hardly know each other.”

“Yeah, but that’s usually the best case scenario.”

“And you’re being completely serious right now?”

“I mean, yeah,” Richie says. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and I’m only making myself look like an idiot right now.”

Eddie chews on his bottom lip, hardly believing this twist of outcomes. He’s sure the correct answer is ‘yes I’ve changed my mind’ and to just pretend this whole mess was a mistake, but some desperate, lonely part of him really likes the idea of finally getting to share his bed with someone. And he didn’t lie before when he confessed Richie was very attractive.

“I…” he hardly wonders how one drunken night could lead to this moment. What in the fuck was his life? “Yeah, I’m willing – I’m game. I think.”

Richie reacts with surprise but then extends a hand for Eddie to shake. “Alright, then. Seal the deal?”

Eddie laughs. “What are we? Some old timey fat cats?” he jokes but shakes the offered hand anyway.

“It felt like a business moment,” Richie says with a grin. There’s a pause where neither knows where to steer the conversation now.

“So… should we start now?” Eddie asks, unable to stop thinking about Justin Timberlake and Mila Whatever’s characters in that movie Bill made him watch years ago.

“Tempting, but, I do have somewhere to be very soon,” Richie answers, and Eddie flushes, wondering if Richie’s just being nice because Eddie knows he must look like shit right now. “Later, I suppose. When it happens it happens, ya feel?”

“S-sure.”

“Welp,” Richie slaps his knees before standing. “Must be off. You can finish the rest of the food in there. And I guess I’ll see you tonight…”

“Uh, yeah I’ll be here, most likely,” Eddie says, unsure if it’s all really this simple and if maybe he should draw up a planner for them to follow. No, that’s ridiculous.

“Oh, I have some pain killers in my top drawer if you need ‘em,” Richie adds before heading for the door. “Alright – bye.”

“Bye,” Eddie says to the empty room, and then his gaze lands on the brown bag.

Food first, then a shower, he decides, with a plan to go about this day as normal as any other. Easier said than done.

Stomach now full and his skin crying out for some goddamn soap, Eddie assembles his toiletries and slinks out of the room and down the hall to the communal bathroom. He’s never really liked the idea of sharing bathrooms with people, but he knew when he started college it would be something he’d have to get over – unless he was happy to drive the two hours up to his mother’s house to use her shower.

So he makes due, rubbing himself virtually raw with his loofah and face-scrub. There are two other guys standing by the mirrors and shaving when he steps out of the shower, and Eddie makes sure he doesn’t linger on their bare chests for too long.

It’s then that he can’t ignore thoughts of his deal with Richie and instantly a shiver racks through him, still unable to process the fact that it was going to happen. At some point. Very soon, probably.

With a cheeky smile he leaves and goes back to his room to change.

He begins drying his damp hair further with the towel and then stops abruptly, leaving the towel cascading over his head as his arms so slack at his sides. Eddie suffers a mental blank as he tries to think of something to kill time.

Study, you idiot, duh, his mind says helpfully.

Eddie sighs, knowing he does need to get back to the assignment he so carelessly abandoned last night. But as he looks around the room he’s overcome with memories of his pathetic drunken rambling, so he makes the quick decision to head over to the campus library so as to avoid distractions. Bag heavy and venti latte in hand, he deems himself ready to buckle down and study his little ass off when he walks inside the building.

“Hey, Eddie!”

A voice calls out, but Eddie doesn’t recognize it straight away. He turns to see Ben waving at him from behind the counter, and figuring it’d be rude to just wave back and keep walking, Eddie goes over to him with a wobbly smile.

“H-hey, Ben, right?”

Ben nods, resting his arms on the counter. “Yeah man. How’re you feeling? Bev said you got pretty wasted last night. Sorry about that, I like to make my drinks pretty strong.”

“No, it’s – I went too hard, I think. Richie helped me get home, luckily,” he laughs somewhat nervously. Ben’s a nice guy though, so Eddie is sure he’s not going to make fun of him somehow.

“Well it was nice to finally hang out. Richie’d mentioned you a few times; I’m surprised it took ‘till now to meet you,” Ben says.

“We both had a laugh about how little we know each other, funny that,” Eddie says, hiking up his bag when it starts to slip.

“Hey—” Ben says, his eyes lighting up. Eddie randomly thinks it must be impossible to say no to that face. “—we’re playing a gig this Wednesday, you should come!”

Eddie wonders who ‘we’ is. Bev, maybe? “Oh, that’s cool. I didn’t know you played.”

“Yeah man. Bev, Stan, Richie and myself. We play when we can. Nothing big, just for fun, really.”

And yet another thing about Richie I didn’t know, Eddie thinks. “Well cool, thanks for the invite. I’ll try and make sure I don’t have work that night.”

Ben grins proudly, pivoting on the spot when another student comes up with a reference inquiry. Eddie shuffles on his feet, wondering if that was the end of the interaction, but Ben grabs his attention before he can leave.

“Hey, you about to study? If you want, you can find a spot out the back here,” he says, jerking his thumb to another door behind him. “Staff study lounges – way better furniture and way less chatter to distract you. And there’s free coffee.”

A privilege Eddie’s not sure he’s earned; he wouldn’t want to appear as if he’s just using Ben for the guy’s connections. But then his easily tempted irritation glances around at all of the other bustling students in the library, and he figures a nice untainted room might do him some good.

“Thank you,” he tells Ben, following him behind the counter and down a corridor littered with posters and flyers. They reach the end and Ben guides him inside excitedly, showing him about and introducing him to some other workers who don’t appear to mind Eddie’s impromptu presence.

“Alright man, if you need something just holler out,” Ben finishes, clapping Eddie’s back and leaving him to the welcomed silence.

Eddie sets up his books and laptop near a window and smiles to himself, and as the wifi connects up he decides he’ll buy Ben some drinks at his gig to thank him.

Hours later when he’s finally done, he thanks Ben again while Ben gives him the details for their gig, and as he leaves the library Eddie practically has a bounce in his step as he walks back to the dorm buildings.

He’s still running on a study high so he doesn’t even notice right away that Richie is lying on his bed when he steps inside their room. Eddie stands frozen by the door but tries to shake himself out of it as he desperately holds on to that confidence from a minute ago.

“Hey,” he breathes out before hastily adding: “what’s up dude?” and cringes immediately after.

Richie lowers the book – a manga book, lord – he’s reading and peers over to Eddie with a coy smile. “Nothin’ much. You seem cheery.”

“Uh, yeah, had a good study session… just with myself, I mean.” Eddie crosses his arms and then uncrosses them, wondering how in the fuck he could be this awkward.

“Well that’s good news.”

He wonders if Richie is humouring him. It’s hard to tell. He dumps his bag by his desk and plugs in his phone to charge. “Uh, yeah. I even saw Ben working there,” Eddie makes a gesture as if to say ‘You remember Ben, don’t you?’

“Right, yeah.”

“He um, invited me to a gig you’re playing on Wednesday,” Eddie says quickly, watching Richie’s reaction. There isn’t much of a response. “Is that… okay? I don’t know if that’s crossing some kind of boundary line…”

Richie adjusts his glasses as he goes to sit up. “No, that’s cool. What, would you prefer to keep things separate or something?”

“Uh, no…?” Eddie hesitates. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting to know you, I guess. Like, you play in a band, that’s cool. Ben’s cool, too.”

Richie smiles again, and this time stands in a stretch. “It’s never as cool as pop culture makes it out to be. We hardly ever make money on it, and our crowds are usually drunk and call out requests like we’re a jukebox.” He laughs. “But we get free drinks, so.”

“Silver lining,” Eddie throws in.

Richie’s head falls forward, but he keeps his gaze on Eddie. His hands rest on his hips, like the image of a parent ready to scold him for reasons unknown to Eddie. And then almost fluidly he closes the few feet between them and suddenly his face is only a couple of inches away from Eddie’s, and Eddie’s breath catches when one of Richie’s hands meet his cheek.

“Um,” he says eloquently. Richie remains the picture of pure suave while Eddie feels his body go into meltdown mode.

“This okay?” Richie whispers and then just like that his mouth was on Eddie’s.

“Mmmph--”

It’s instantly overwhelming and it causes Eddie to react slowly, and so Richie pulls away marginally to let him recover but then he’s back again and Eddie tries his best to keep up with him, puckering his lips and angling for better access. His nose bumps into Richie’s glasses occasionally, and Eddie isn’t sure how to get around that now that his brain has shut down.

Richie decides for him and removes them without hesitation. “I can see okay without them.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie nods, and he idly wonders when his hands had found their way to Richie’s shirt collar. Richie was squinting slightly, but he was still gorgeous even without them. Typical.

There’s another pause, as if the both of them were mentally asking if this was really going to happen. Eddie’s desperately seeking libido takes reign and he almost yanks Richie back down to his level so he can proceed to kiss the living daylights out of him. It feels amazing to be able to just kiss someone again, even better, Richie was fucking skilled as.

Eddie releases Richie’s shirt and instead wraps his arms around Richie’s neck, and Richie’s hands are currently wondering down Eddie’s chest and curving at his hips.

Eddie moans at the contact and in that, Richie snakes his tongue into Eddie’s open mouth and Eddie breathes deeply through his nose, trying to keep up the perfect rhythm their mouths have got going. He fists a hand in Richie’s hair, and the groan Richie makes goes straight to Eddie’s ego. He was infinitely worried he had become rusty in his unsolicited sex-hiatus.

Eddie makes a surprised gasp when Richie’s hands circle around his thighs and hoists him up almost effortlessly, and Eddie hooks his legs around Richie’s middle before releasing their lips with a wet ‘pop’.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie refuses to admit he whines into Richie’s neck.

“Shit, you okay?” asks a breathless Richie.

Eddie merely nods while he tries to see past his foggy mind. “I… fuck – it is ridiculously hot that you can lift me, Jesus. My pride is kinda hurt but my dick is way too happy to care.”

“Good to know.”

The lifting was probably pointless, since their beds weren’t exactly far, but boy Eddie is glad he can store this new information away for later. Eddie angles back to look at Richie, his hands following the movement so they’re now cupping both sides of Richie’s face. Eddie never realized how plush Richie’s lips were. They’re certainly hard to ignore now. Eddie kisses him again, slow and lazily, and traces the tip of his tongue along Richie’s top lip.

I cannot believe this is happening, what the fuck.

It’s hard to ignore the strain in the front of his pants now, with his dick getting harder by the second. He wonders if Richie feels as good as he does.

Richie takes a step back in warning. “Let me take you to my bed.”

Eddie giggles slightly, but settles it in order to be able to continue kissing Richie. Richie’s grip tightens when they reach the other side of the room, and then Eddie feels himself being lowered down onto the bed gracefully as his back meets the comforter. His insides are burning up and Richie pins Eddie’s hands above his head as the taller boy uses his height to completely surround Eddie.

Normally that kind of action would piss Eddie off, but right now, in this moment, everything Richie does is somehow unbearably hot in the most intoxicating way and Eddie’s growing restless.

“C’mon man,” he nearly begs. “Maybe it’s only been days for you but it’s been months for me. Gimme the good stuff.”

“Oh, the good stuff?” Richie says, leaning down to trace the column of Eddie’s throat. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Dick.”

“Was that an instruction or are you calling me one?”

“Both.”

“Okay, okay,” Richie laughs quietly before kissing Eddie deeply one more time. He lowers his hips down as well, and the friction of jean on jean isn’t all that great, but God any relief to his cock right now was enough to make Eddie’s eyes water slightly. Richie releases Eddie’s hands as he moves to sit up on his knees, and when Eddie hears a zipper opening Eddie reaches down to work on his own pants. He must show something on his face because Richie is rubbing soothing patterns along his arms.

“Hey, we’ll go slow tonight, yeah?” he assures Eddie, and the fear Eddie was surprised to have been feeling disappears in knowing that.

“Yeah, thanks,” he says, and Richie smiles kindly. They don’t undress much further, and for now that’s fine. Eddie takes a look at Richie and secretly admires the obvious tent in his boxers.

“Mind if I lead?”

Eddie shakes his head and wriggles slightly so his pants shimmy down some more. Richie leans over him again, kissing first on his lips and then trailing down his jaw and then along his collarbone. When Eddie feels a hand graze over his dick he swallows his gasp, resisting bucking up into it. God, it’s been so long.

“Eddie…”

Eddie full-body shivers at hearing his name on someone else’s tongue, and pulls at Richie’s shirt until the other boy is lifting it over his head and tossing it aside. Richie sneaks his hands under Eddie’s shirt in question, and Eddie nods, pushing his body up so his shirt can disappear too. Eddie knows his chest and arms aren’t much to look at, and he can’t help but notice the faint muscle definition displayed across Richie’s body – not too much but just that perfect amount.

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie slips out.

“Me?” Richie says offhandedly, leaning back in to kiss Eddie again, and while Eddie has his eyes closed Richie has gone and shoved both of their underwear down and Eddie feels something new brush up against his now unclothed cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches profusely into Richie’s mouth when the feeling of fingers finally touch at his aching dick. While still clutching to Richie he draws away to look down, and it’s the sight of Richie’s hand being large enough to wrap around both of them that has Eddie’s head spinning.

“Oh, fuck, oh my God,” Eddie whimpers just as Richie begins pumping. “That is so not fair…”

“I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers,” Richie practically gloats, his free hand currently rubbing at Eddie’s nipple.

Eddie scoffs. “Magi-ah..AHH—” he moans loudly when Richie adds some amazing pressure. Their pre-cum slicks up Richie’s hand easily and allows the pace to pick up. “Hnng, fuck you.” Richie chuckles, somehow evilly.

I’m having sex with my roommate, our dicks are currently touching, this guy has heard me singing along to DJ Jazzy Jeff and still wants to see me naked–

Eddie can feel every surface of his skin tingle, skin hot in all of the places Richie was currently touching him, and the frame of the bed had begun rocking slightly with Richie’s surprising strength. Eddie tries to smother his noises into Richie’s shoulder, but it grows impossible, and he gives up in favour of claiming Richie’s mouth once again.

“Rich…–” the rest is swallowed up hungrily and Eddie can feel his release building up with every passing second. Handjobs have always felt so high school, but for some reason it was now the hottest thing to happen to him and Eddie was in no way complaining. “Holy shit what the fuck, I mean honestly—”

“Ah, uh—fffuck,” Richie stammers, and then Eddie tests the waters by tugging at Richie’s hair again. His roommate almost growls and Eddie feels even more blood rush to his dick.

“You close?” Eddie asks, pulling Richie in closer. Richie grunts in reply and through sheer force of will somehow speeds his hand up, and Eddie chokes on his own damn tonsils in the process.

They’re both breathing heavily, the air around them sticky and hot and Eddie can feel his back melt unpleasantly into the comforter. He hardly cares, though, not when he can feel that white-hot heat finally consume his body as his hips lift off the bed, chasing it almost desperately as he cums blindingly for the first time in goddamn months.

Richie ruts a few more times as his rigorous hand sends Eddie further over the edge into a sensitive mess, and soon there’s a mixture of both their cum over their chests while they attempt to catch their breaths. Richie collapses next to him on the narrow bed, but Eddie can hardly bring himself to move, too sated to care about much of anything, really.

“Okay, so…” Richie starts after some minutes pass, and Eddie tries to stay in his little world for a bit longer. “That was… pretty great, actually.”

Eddie turns his head to look at him. Richie’s face is flushed, slightly sweaty on his forehead, eyes glossy. He licks his lips subconsciously. “Yeah? Uh, good.”

Richie watches him a bit longer, and Eddie wants to know what he’s thinking. “I guess we have a lot more to look forward to, huh?”

Eddie ignores the now-drying mess that is his chest and rolls onto his side. “Is that so? How lucky for me, then.” He smiles at Richie as he brushes some strands of hair away from his eyes.

“Man, we could’ve been doing this for ages,” Richie muses.

“Don’t think I would’ve been this easy back then,” Eddie threatens. “2016 Eddie still had his pride and ambitions.”

“Ah, so I’m your rock bottom, huh?”

“You’re hardly a bottom,” Eddie reasons.

“Why Mr. Kaspbrak, I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Richie laughs, and Eddie decides the best way to shut him up is by connecting their mouths again.

tag list: @welctothelosersclub @richietoaster @r-richie @sleepykaspbrak @eddierichietozier @theemilyxx

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#reddie #reddie fic #sixteen weeks #my fics #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier

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