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mrsmandalorian · 7 months ago

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nonsense

-- pedro x singer!f!reader one shot

summary: a surprise visitor at your first-ever coachella performance!

second part: espresso/main masterlist /word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, smut!!!, and fluff!, drinking, drug use (edibles and smoking), switch sex, p in v, fingering, sexual teasing, pet names (mi amor, princesa, daddy, baby, baby girl, puppy, angel)

a/n: howdy everyone! was inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's Coachella performance to write this. let me know if you guys want a second story to Espresso lol. i would love to hear your feedback or comments! much love to everyone!! -maddie

Coachella was one of the most famous music festivals a musician could play at. It was such an honor to be on the setlist. It is incredible to perform a night each weekend in a row. This might be the most significant break in your career. Something felt missing.

The crowd started to get excited as the set time grew nearer. The nerves shot through you as you took deep breaths. You were trying to get over the feelings going through your mind.

“Are you alright?” one of the backup dancers asks as they help you with the earpiece. As you look yourself over in the mirror, you see the beautiful outfit that was personalized to fit you wonderfully, with your hair done beautifully.

You were ready.

“Yes, I am ready!” You smiled at your team as you took hold of your microphone. The band starts playing one of your most famous songs. The lights went dark as the band played the first cords of the song. The crowd roared in anticipation. You slowly stepped out into the darkness and started the melody.

The lights pour onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. They get the first glance at you with your sexy and luxurious outfit. You smirk to yourself at the attention as you scan through the crowd. All the exciting and loyal fans in the crowd as they sing every verse with you. You follow the dance choreography you have practiced and performed many times. Once the music was going, it was hard not to get stuck into it and forget about the hundreds of people in front of you. The crowd was going wild as they sang along to your new song.

You continued the song as you had images of the reason for it, smirking to yourself. Pedro makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, from how he treats you publicly to the bedroom activities. A few songs highlighted the bedroom activities. You had never written such “edgy, sexy” songs before you met him. The secret love affair had made all of you so happy. He still made you content and secured in your relationship even miles and hours away from him.

As you go through the song and move around more, you look into the VIP areas and see many familiar faces. You don’t pay much attention as you have to end the song. You were so busy entertaining your fans that you did not notice who had slipped into the VIP section alongside both of your mutual friends. You were so focused on the choreography and in your element. The show was a big deal and a performance with dances and graphics for all the songs on the giant screens. You were singing your last song of the night, which was Nonsense. It was one of your favorite songs to perform, as it gave the audience the mood for the evening. The song represented something personal to you: your secret relationship with your new lover, Pedro Pascal, the whole internet’s boyfriend. It was interesting to see social media go crazy over who the song might be for. Some had the correct answers, but it was still a new and private relationship.

The lights fall as the melody starts. “I think that you guys will enjoy this next song! I have seen all the tiktoks, by the way.” You joke into the darkness and receive a wild response from the crowd. You take a few breaths and get into position in a very sexy pose, along with the dancers, waving at the sweet fans who can see you.

“No (La-la, la-la) da-ah-ah, ah (Ah-ah, uh, uh, uh, yeah)”

As the song begins, the spotlight shines only on you. You scan over the crowd with a smirk. It was one of the sexy, edgy songs you wrote because of your lover. There are butterflies in your stomach from nerves to play something as personal as this song, especially for such a big and reactive crowd.

“Think I only want one number on my phone I might change your contact to "Don't leave me alone." You said you like my eyes, and you like to make them roll Treat me like a queen; now you got me feelin' thrown, oh.”

The stage lights illuminate the whole stage as you walk around and sway your hips to the music. During the lyrics, you stop and try to sing with your fans as you make your way to the side of your VIP area to see those familiar faces.

“But I can't help myself When you get close to me Baby, my tongue goes numb Sounds like blah, blah, blee”

As you sing towards the area, your eyes linger over your friend group of non-famous friends to Sarah Paulson, which causes you to smile at them. You continue to scan the section until they land on HIM. The person that this song was written about. He was being his goofy and adorable self as he sang along with you. This causes you to mess up with a blush but quickly recover as the next verse comes.

“I don't want no one else (don't want) Baby, I'm in too deep Here's a lil' song I wrote (a song I wrote) It's about you and me (me)”

The eye contact that he held with you as you sang your filthy thoughts of him directly to him with a huge smirk. You continued to perform as you moved your hips a little more to the choreography because of him. In the following verses, you look away as you sing to your fans.

“I'll be honest Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in And when you got your arms around me Ooh, it feels so good. I had to jump the octave I think I got an ex but I forgot him And I can't find my chill, I must have lost it I don't even know I'm talkin' nonsense I'm talkin', I'm talkin' (ah)”

You twirl your hair and sway your hips back to his side of the stage as your dancers follow close behind you. Make eye contact with him to ensure he is focused on you now.

“I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts You gotta keep up with me I got some young energy I caught the L-O-V-E How do you do this to me?”

You follow the choreography correctly as you hold flirty eye contact with him. Once you go over the chorus again and start to finish the song, you stand in your final position in the middle of the stage. You send him a wink and blow a kiss, then turn your attention to your fans.

“You guys have been absolutely the best! I hope you all enjoyed it and hope to see you again next weekend! I love you, and please stay safe!” You say after you show appreciation to your band and dancers. You wave and bow as the crowd goes wild and chant your name as the lights go down.

As you run backstage with your crew, laughing and smiling, you give all of them well-deserved love and appreciation. Your manager is there with water and a hug.” You did amazing! They loved you!” they say as you drink your water and wipe the sweat. Now celebrate! Not too hard!”

You follow their instructions as you see your friends run up as you exit the backstage towards your tent. They all sang praises and love and hugged you. After a while, you finally met the handsome brown eyes again, but closer this time. You jog up to him in your tight-fitting outfit with a big smile as the two collide in a hug, throwing your arms around his neck. He was wearing a button-up shirt with the first set of buttons undone, dark jeans, and his oversized glasses and baseball cap.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You say with a smile as you look up to him. He smirked as he got ready to say something witty back to you. You interrupt it with a short but passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m happy you’re here! How long have you been here?” Your hands land on his exposed chest, which makes him pull you closer.

He chuckles at you as he sees the adrenaline still pumping through you as you chatter to him. “I just decided to come to see my favorite person perform at Coachella. My schedule can wait two days. I’ve been here the whole time. You were great, beautiful.” He keeps his voice so no one else can hear your conversation. You feel his hands slide down your hips a little bit. “Also, where did you get this little number, and why haven’t I ever seen it?” Letting his thick fingers run over the design against your lower sides.

The compliments give you a confidence boost on top of your adrenaline rush. You bite your lip as his hands wander slightly until they settle on your lower back. “I planned on changing before we celebrate, but if you like it, I can keep it on.” You whisper into his ear, then look back at his expression.

His eyes darkened from your comment, causing him to pull you a little closer. “I like that idea,” He whispers in your ear as his lips graze your neck with a few pecks. Before you both could continue, your friends gathered you into other event areas. The group stayed together as they went to different stages to watch other artists, including Doja Cat and Lana Del Rey.

Pedro and you both socialized and drank with all your friends as you celebrated your incredible performance. There were edibles taken sometime in all the fun. He would occasionally hold onto you as you both danced closely. You both let loose, and as you can see, everyone was far from wasted. You were letting your bodies get as close as possible, hips grinding onto his. His hands would run down your sides and tease you. Stealing kisses from each other, and the sexual tension was through the roof.

The feeling of being watched makes you look around every once in a while. The camera flashes and excited screams from people around you made you realize that your relationship might not be that much of a secret now. Pedro and you interacted with lovely, chill fans who casually recognized you. You had some groups that would call over to Pedro as “daddy” as he played it off like a champ.

“Vamos, mi amor,” Pedro whispers in your ear as he grips his gentle hands around your waist. You meet his erotic brown eyes that make your cheeks burn hard as you squeeze your thighs together. Pedro was very facially expressive because you could read his thoughts whenever you looked into him. His thoughts were highly naughty, and it was time to go home. “I wondered how you felt about calling it for a night and heading back to your room for a nice bath.”

You look around at everyone in the crew and see your friends slowing their nights down, which doesn’t make you worried about causing another upset. Meeting the brown eyes again, you give him an arguing grin as you throw back your head with a laugh.

“I thought you might like that idea, Hermosa. Let’s tell them all good night and get going,” he whispers again in your ear as he gently pulls you towards your group of friends. Both of you take the time to say goodbye to your friends and thank them for supporting you. Pedro’s loud laugh pulls you away from your friends as you meet his warm eyes. He hugs everyone and draws you into his hip with an arm around your waist. “Goodnight, everyone. Safe travels!”

There were plenty of farewells, naughty things, and cat calls as you leaned against Pedro, who turned around with a silly face and middle finger gesture. He helps guide you to the Uber you take to your hotel room for the night. As you lay your head in his lap, the car ride was full of stolen kisses and laughter.

“You were an absolute star tonight, mi amor,” Pedro says as he traces his fingers along the straps of his outfit, letting his fingers run down to his cleavage. That last song was very cheeky. I wonder who that could be about.”

“Thank you. It was about one of my lovers. You might know him,” You joke with him, trying not to moan. His wandering fingers turn into wandering palms as they slowly paw at your breast.

“Oh, you are playing hard to get whenever I already have you smitten,” he mumbles, only where you could hear him. The car comes to a stop as you arrive at your hotel. You quickly get out of the vehicle as Pedro follows closely behind you. You couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you walked through the empty hotel halls. Acting as strangers whenever you encounter a person, you giggle with each other once you come back together.

Once you find your room, Pedro checks to see if the hallway is clear. He uses a little force with his grip as he leans you against your shut door. Letting his hands explore before they landed on your bottom, kneading your ass. One of his hands comes up to cup your jaw as he lines his lips up with yours, passionately kissing yours. His body closes into yours as you let him control the situation as you follow his lead. After grinding bodies and long, passionate kisses, you pull away, trying to catch your breath as you stare up at him with your cheeks burning. “We should get inside,” you say as you turn around the door, fumbling with the door. Pedro stepped back a little and watched as you struggled a bit.

“Why are you so frizzled, mi amor?” He whispers against your neck and presses the front of his body to your back. Feeling his stiff member against your backside along with his hot breath, almost making you moan out at contact. “Let me help you.” He helps you inside as you giggle and follow him.

Pedro and you have been messing around for a while now. You have not discussed a relationship status or anything, but neither of you hooked up with others. He treats you like a significant other the way he respects your boundaries and doesn’t hide his affection towards you.

“Let’s go put that beautiful bathtub you sent me a picture of yesterday to good use,” he teases you as he takes off his baseball cap, which makes his hair go all over the place. He starts unbuttoning more of his shirt as his chest becomes bare. You can’t resist running your hands down his chest as he looks at you with a smirk.

He spanks your ass hard with a groan because of your hands on him. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” he says as he pats your ass to get you to start moving. Once in the bathroom, turn on the large white tub to create a perfect mix of hot and cold. He grips your hips as he runs his hands to the back of your outfit. “Whoever designed this little piece is a fucking genius. It is beautiful and flatters you greatly.”

“Well, thank you, Pedro. I might have had you in mind when I got it designed. I was going to send you some pictures tonight whenever I came back here,” you smirked and winked at him in the mirror as he helped you undo the outfit. He kissed down your body as the fabric went off, making chills run across your body. The time apart doesn’t affect you emotionally, but how your body reacts tells the absolute truth. The way your heart rate skyrockets as his lips make their way to your mound.

You leaned against the counter for support as your outfit fell onto the floor, leaving you only in underwear. You make eye contact with Pedro as he continues to kiss and lick down your lower half. He hooks his large fingers under the top band of your panties as he meets your eyes for approval. You give him a slight nod and grin as his feather-like kisses follow the material as he pulls them down your legs. Throwing your head back as you try not to make a noise as he runs his tongue just above your clit. You make a frustrated groan as his tongue suddenly leaves your skin, leaving goosebumps.

Pedro chuckles softly as he sees how your body reacts to him, pulling away with a smirk on his lips. He stands up as he pushes his body against yours, pulling your hips into his. “You are such a good girl for me. Your body is always ready for me,” he whispers as he ducks his head to kiss your neck. “Let’s go in, mi amor.” He gets in first so you can sit in between his thick thighs. He helps you as you slide in between his legs, back against his chest. His rigid member pressed against your lower back, his hands tease your nipples after you get settled. He couldn’t help but let his hands wander as he settled comfortably behind you. He rubs out your sore body but lets his hands focus on your most sensitive spots.

His gentle but firm hands run on either side of your hips as his kisses lay on your shoulders. He inhaled deeply against your skin, causing you to tense up your back as it chills down your spine. He moves his hands from your hips towards your mound. You used one hand to spread your left leg apart, holding it still with just one large hand. His right hand found its way down to tease your slit, playing with your sweet lips. You felt the member on your back begin to throb as he slightly rubbed himself against you. You let out your needy moans and sounds continuous as he worked his fingers against you.

He kept teasing you and kissing your shoulder and neck with his scruffy face. You had enough of his teasing and rigid member. It was rare that you switched roles, but you were both switches. (You can’t tell me that Pedro is not a switch.) You slide out of his grip as you meet his eyes once you are turned around to face him.

You grasp onto his rigid member, holding yourself up on the sides of the tub. He squirms and lets out a moan as you hold yourself over him. “I’m tired of the teasing, Pascal. It’s my turn,” you say as you ease your entrance slowly onto his throbbing tip. You find a comfortable position for your legs as you keep going up and down on his tip. He lets out a loud ‘fuck’ and moans as he squeezes his eyes close. His hands move to your hips, letting you take control. You start to ride him as you push your breast into his face.

One of his hands moved from your hips to grip your tit, “who gave you permission to touch me?” You whisper almost into his ear as he looks up at you with big brown eyes.

“Sorry, miss,” he whimpers back as your speed of volatile movements onto his cock increases. He leans back and rests his arms on the back of the tub as he lets you ride the hell out of him. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes as he groans out in pleasure. “Fuck, mi amor.”

“You like this, don’t you?” You firmly ask him as you force his face into the middle of your tits. He starts to motorboat your breast as you suffocate him gently. The scruff from his face makes you more sensitive than you thought, riding his member harder. “You start fucking me hard, baby. Thrust your big cock into me.”

He meets your eyes with pleasing brown eyes to satisfy your needs. His pleas make you smirk as you nod. Pedro begins to slam his hips into you, moaning as he does. “Thank you, thank you for letting me fuck you.” He pants as he thrusts deep inside of you, feeling his throbbing member hitting every spot.

He grips your body, and his thrust begins to become more rapid as you continue to ride his giant member. Every thrust has the purpose of pleasing you; his hand works its way back up to your breast. He plays aggressively with your nipple, pinching and sucking on it. His other hand gripped onto your ass as his rhythm stayed deep and hard. The overstimulation of his hands and the member inside of you causes you to scream out in pleasure, “Good puppy.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm coming sooner as he leans up and thrusts into you. Pedro chose the pet name on one of the first nights you had taken control of the action.

Eventually, with his rapid thrust and wandering hands, your body starts to shake as you are overcome with pleasure. “Keep going, puppy,” you whimper as he continues to work out your orgasm. “Such a good puppy.” You whisper as you run your hands over his chest. Your body falls into his as you overcome your orgasm, gripping onto his as he continues to pleasure you. He pulls out and fingers your wet pussy, licking his fingers after you finish.

You both lay in the tub for a while as you overcome your orgasm. He held you as you came down from your high, kissing your head. “Was that good for you, mi amor?” He asks gently as he pulls you into his chest. He moved the hair from your face, rubbing his hands down your waist.

You gently nod against him as the day catches up with you. After a few minutes, you get tired of the cramped space of the tub. “Let’s get out, baby,” you mumble to him as you lean up, earning a grunt in return. The guilt of not pleasuring Pedro silently overcame you as you exited the bathtub.

The sound of a low grunt makes you return to the tub as the broad man emerges. You smile mischievously at him as he glances up to meet your grin. His member is still very much erect as he steps in front of you. The fun part of being switch partners was that it could change in a flash. You give Pedro a knowing look as he meets your eyes and stands before you. His eyes and grin light up on his face as he gently guides you onto the counter behind you. “My turn, princesa,” he mumbles and spreads your legs apart as he pushes himself in between them. He pulls your body towards the edge of the counter so your legs wrap around him.

You lean your back against the counter as he holds your lower half, rubbing his throbbing cock against your slick entrance. He leans over your body, sucking on one of your nipples to get a reaction out of you, which it did as you let out a loud moan. Your body reacted as well as it pushed farther onto his member. You both let out a pleasurable sound as his tongue runs down your chest to your stomach. Your hips start to tease him as they grind against him, which causes him to spank the side of your ass. “No, ma’am, it’s daddy’s turn,” he smirks up at you as he moves one of his hands to your nipple. His fingers quickly fondle your right nipple as you moan loudly. “You let daddy fuck your sweet, sweet pussy?”

You let out a satisfied groan as his hand moved down your entrance, gently rubbing you as his thumb ran over your sensitive clit. After gently teasing your pussy with his fingers, he lubed himself up with his fingers from your wetness. His large member enters you again as he holds onto your hips. He pushes inside slowly as you both let out moans.

“You’re so fucking wet, angel. Did ya miss daddy?” He asks as he grips your hips harder, thrusting inside of you. You give a desperate nod as your hands grip onto the edge of the counter. Pedro takes his time as he edges himself in and out of you, giving you all the praises. He pulls up your upper body so your bodies grind against one another, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your back. “Good girl.”

The friction from the position on your mound makes it hard not to moan and squirm in pleasure. His thrust becomes more rigid and repetitive as his grip holds you gently but firmly. You could feel your orgasm approaching as well from the position. “I’m about to cum, Daddy,” you whimpered as you gripped his firm broad shoulders.

His mouth meets your ear as he groans into your ear. His heavy breathing makes your back arch and push into his thrust more. “Wait for me, baby girl,” he mumbles into your ear as his thrust becomes more sloppy. “Come for me, angel.” He sets you down on the counter as his hands grip your breast, twiddling your nipples with his thick fingers.

Before long, both of you came together with your bodies grinding against one another, along with satisfied noises.

Pedro’s warm brown eyes meet yours before he kisses you. The two of you might not have a title, but the sparks were there every touch. “Such a good girl, angel,” he says as he gently pulls out of you. “Let’s take a quick shower.” He helps you into the shower, where the two of you help wash one another and joke around with stolen kisses in between. After getting ready, Pedro carries you into bed as the two of you order dessert from room service. The rest of the night was full of laughter and heavy makeout. The two of you cuddle up to some cheesy movie and fall asleep midway through it.

These were the perfect nights for you to write a whole album about your feelings for this cheeky, handsome man.

thank you for reading! let me know what you think!🤍

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #din dijarin fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro x you

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zegrasdrysdale · 27 days ago

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[ like you hate me ] e. edwards

day 7 of kinktober (hate sex w/ ethan edwards)

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : she can’t stand ethan, but she knows there is tension between them that she can’t ignore anymore when they collide at a party

warning(s) : smut ! rough / hate sex, p in v, protected sex, nicknames during sex, begging, mentions of alcohol, light alcohol consumption

author’s note : i couldn’t wait to get to this one bc i had so many ideas hehe

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't be here, but she let her friends talk her into coming to the party. Hockey parties don't usually end well for her whenever she does decide to attend them.

Especially if she runs into him.

Ethan Edwards is the bane of her existence and the biggest pain in her ass. He has the biggest ego she's ever seen on a hockey player, and he's had it for all four years that she's known him. He likes to mess with her during classes they have together and distract her from keeping her solid 3.8 GPA. He likes to mess with her in passing and make jokes every time he sees her. He even makes her job as the hockey team’s social media admin very difficult and she’s growing tired of it.

Maybe she won’t even run into him. She can avoid him in his own house. It won’t be that hard with every girl throwing herself at him and distracting him from the fact that she’s there.

The hockey house is off campus in a suburban area of Ann Arbor about 15 minutes away from main campus. It’s already crawling with partygoers when she pulls up in an Uber about an hour after the party was scheduled to start. Music blasts from every open door and window and she questions how they haven’t gotten cited yet for loud noise.

Inside is so crowded she can barely walk. She squeezes past multiple athletes from different sports in the foyer as she makes her way to the kitchen to get something to drink. If she’s going to be in the same building as Ethan then she needs to have a little alcohol in her system. God knows what’s going to happen and what words are going to be exchanged if their paths cross.

In the kitchen stands three of Ethan’s closest friends. All with an arm around some girl. Luca is the first to notice her walk into the room. He immediately smiles at the sight.

"Holy shit," he laughs. "She makes an appearance. I can't believe it. I thought you would never show your face at a hockey house party."

She shrugs while she makes herself a drink with cheap vodka and a mixer. "I was coerced into coming," she tells him. She looks up at Luca, Mark, and TJ. She sips her drink. "Where's your friend? Hiding upstairs in his room hopefully?"

Mark laughs and shakes his head. "He's around," he replies. "Last I saw him, he was out back playing cup pong with Duker, Moldy and Schiffer."

"Now I can avoid the back," she says with a smile. "Thanks."

All three of them laugh as she turns and leaves the room. She makes her way into the living room. Her friends sit on the couch so she sits on the arm of the chair next to the person she'd consider her best friend. She leans back and sips from her cup.

People come in and out of the room constantly, but she loves being able to see everyone and socialize with whoever does come into the room. She talks to people she hasn't seen or spoken to in a little bit.

She's laughing at something her friend said when she watches the one person she didn't want to see walk into the room with Luca and Mark. They better not have snitched on her to him or she will make sure they hate the Monday Question next week.

Ethan's eyes land on her and she quickly averts her eyes. She looks at her friend and pretends to be invested in the conversation so maybe Ethan won't walk over and bother her.

Except, that plan fails. Before she knows it, Ethan is standing in front of her. He has the smuggest of smirks on his face when he approaches her.

“A little birdie told me that you were trying to avoid me, princess” he tells her. “Is that true?”

She could kill Luca, Mark, and TJ for snitching on her.

“So what if I was?” she questions as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’ve told you to stop calling me princess.”

“You’re in my house, princess,” Ethan retorts with a grin on his face and emphasizing the word ‘princess’ just to annoy her even more. “You don’t get to ignore me in my house, and I can do whatever I want because it is my house.”

“Says who?” she asks. “I can ignore whoever I want, their house or not. You're annoying and I like your roommates better anyway."

Ethan quiets down but he doesn't take his eyes off of her. She doesn't back down either. She holds her ground because she doesn't want him to think he's won. That's the last thing that she wants so she holds eye contact with him until he speaks again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands her ground.

A smile breaks out on his lips and she falters for a very quick second. "I knew you had a crush on one of my roommates," Ethan says. "Which one? Luca? Mark? I hate to break it to you, but Mark has a girlfriend. So does Hughesy. Oh my God. Do you have a thing for a guy who has a girlfriend? That's a little pathetic if you ask me."

She rolls her eyes, her blood beginning to boil after his comment. "You're such an asshole, Ethan," she tells him.

She then gets up out of her seat and walks upstairs to hide in one of the bathrooms for a few minutes while she cools down.

If someone were to ask her why she was so upset, she would say that she honestly has no idea. Something about Ethan Edwards just heats her blood. He riles her up, and it could be the smallest thing that does it too.

All he did was mess with her, and she's ready to punch him in the face. She's always ready to punch him in the face though, but it's often not because she's angry at him. Sometimes it's because he's genuinely one of the most attractive people she's ever seen. Just his face alone is enough to send her into a bad mood.

If Ethan wasn’t a massive pain in her ass, she probably would’ve hooked up with him by now. Maybe it’s what she’s wanted all along and the reason why she hates him so much. He’s infuriating, but he’s hot. It’s a dangerous combination, especially for her.

She splashes water on her face to cool down and does her best to fix up the makeup that came off with the water. It’s not a lot thanks to the inventor of waterproof makeup but it still runs just a little bit.

A knock rings through the bathroom and she calls, “One second!” There’s a second knock and she groans. “Do you not know what one second mea-” She freezes when she sees Ethan on the other side of the door as soon as she swings it open. “Oh, great. Just the person I want to see. Go away, Ethan.”

“I may have crossed a line,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“You just keep adding on to the list of what you think I am, don’t you?” she retorts. “Annoying, nerdy, clingy, and now I’m pathetic despite not having a thing for a single one of your roommates, especially not the ones who are in relationships. Making that comment in front of everyone was embarrassing. Even for you.”

Ethan just nods and looks at her. “I know that,” he tells her. “It wasn’t until you walked away and Luca told me that what I said was wrong that I realized that I crossed the line.”

She runs her fingers through her wavy locks and lets out a soft sigh. “This wouldn’t be an issue if I just-” She cuts herself off from what she was about to say.

There’s tension. There’s been tension. She ignores it like it’s going to go away on it’s own but the innuendos and jokes have made it thicker than it’s ever been. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore it. Maybe if she just-

“Just what?” Ethan questions. She meets his eyes and finds confusion in them.

Do it. Get it over with.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she cups his jaw and pulls him down into a bruising kiss. Ethan has to take a little step toward her due to how hard she pulls him down to her.

He immediate pulls away in surprise. She stares up at him, but she doesn’t move her hands. Her eyes flicker between his like she’s searching for rejection, but that’s the one thing she doesn’t find. She finds deliberation and confusion.

Just in case he needs a little shove, she says, “We have been doing this whole back and forth thing for nearly four years, Ethan. You have to be as tired of it as I am. I feel the tension that’s grown so I’m sure you can to. This is the one and only time I’m offering this to you so we can just fuck it out and maybe end whatever feud thing that we’ve had going on. Worst comes to worst then we have a nice hookup and we can move on with our lives. Best case scenario, we get it out of our systems and we can actually be friends because-”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up, princess?” Ethan asks to cut her off.

She isn’t able to make a comeback because Ethan’s lips are back on hers before she can respond. He’s kissing her with the same intensity that she originally kissed him with.

His hands fall to her waist and he pulls her body flush against his chest. She feels every muscle flex underneath his thin shirt as he makes little movements to adjust to her height. She’s half a head shorter than he is so he has to make some adjustments to kiss her without breaking his neck. Eventually, he gives up and leans down to lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and slides her fingers into his hair.

Ethan turns and walks out of the bathroom. Luckily the hallway is dark so if anyone were to see them, they would think it’s just two people making out at a party. The door is kicked shut and her back is pinned to it. A soft thud is heard when her back makes contact with the wood. She hums when her skin hits the cool surface.

She kicks off her heels and they land on the carpeted floor with soft thuds. Ethan stands holding her back against the door for a second before he turns and walks toward his bed.

In the handful of times she’s had to come into this room, it’s been organized and in order. She gets a glance when the kiss breaks after he drops her on the mattress and finds it’s still very organized and in order. She would’ve never guessed that Ethan is one to keep things clean in his room.

Ethan kicks off his shoes before he climbs over her and hovers above her body. She immediately pulls him back into a hot kiss. He hums and a hand lands on her thigh. The already short black dress rides up her thigh until it rests right under her ass. His fingers follow the fabric up her leg. He grips her thigh and she gasps.

Her fingers slide down his back until they reach the hem of his Michigan hockey t-shirt. She tugs at it to hint that she wants him to take it off. Ethan listens to her signal and sits back on his knees, breaking the kiss. She watches as he pulls the fabric over his head.

Now, she’s seen him shirtless on numerous occasions. There have been times where she’s seen him in nothing but his boxers, but she’s always looked away. Right now, she gets to look. She takes full advantage of the moment and studies every part of his torso and chest. Ethan’s never been the biggest guy in the room, but his body is so toned. She could combust just from the view she has right now.

She gets her hands on him as fast as she can. Her hands start on his torso, tracing his abs before they trail up and over his chest. Ethan’s hands rest on hers when they reach his shoulders. He pulls her up so she’s sitting up with him between her knees. Their chests are flush against each other and she’s looking up at him.

Ethan hooks his fingers under the thin straps of the little black dress. He tugs them off her shoulders and she pulls her arms out of the straps. She keeps her eyes on Ethan as he pulls the top of her dress over her boobs. He gnaws on his bottom lips when he sees her tits.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “You hid these from me this entire time?”

“You never asked to see them,” she tells him. Ethan moves his hands to cup her bare tits. “Probably would’ve showed you if you asked, E.”

He grins and pushes her until she’s lying on her back. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She hums at the feeling. Ethan’s other hand gropes her other boob. He bites down on her bottom lip. She runs her fingers through his hair.

After what feels like seconds later, Ethan begins to kiss down her chest and stomach. He pulls the dress down as he lowers himself down her body. She lifts her butt up so he can get the dress off. It hits the floor and she presses her lips into a line as Ethan drinks her in.

Her hands slide between them and she works on getting Ethan’s pants off. She pushes his pants off his body and he kicks them to the floor. She gets a hand on the bulge in his boxers, palming him over the thin fabric. He snakes a hand into her lace panties. She hums at the feeling of his fingers cupping her sex.

She grinds her core against his fingers trying to get some pressure. She presses her lips into a line as she pleasures herself on his hand. Ethan slips a finger into her and she gasps at the new feeling. "Oh my God," she breathes out. "Warn a girl next time."

Ethan smiles and attaches his lips to her jaw. "We'll see," he mumbles against her skin.

Slowly, he works her toward an orgasm. A knot forms in the pit of her stomach like it always does when she's close to an orgasm. Soft groans pass her lips when Ethan adds a second finger. "I- fuck," she pants. "Ethan, Eddy. Please."

"Please what, princess?" Ethan asks.

"Fuck me like you hate me," she tells him. "Please. Please fuck me, E."

He pulls back and looks at her. His fingers stop moving in and out of her. A grin forms on his swollen lips. "Are you begging me to fuck you?" he questions. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would beg me for something."

"Ethan Edwards, I'm about to get up and go get Luca-"

"Oh I don't think so," Ethan interrupts as he goes into his bedside table to get something. He pulls out a little foil package and comes back over to hover over her. "You're going to take off the rest of your clothes and I will give you the best dick you've ever had in that pretty little pussy."

His words go straight to her core and she listens to him almost as soon as he's done talking. She slides off her ruined panties and Ethan takes off his boxers to slide on the condom that he pulled out of the drawer.

She lies down on her back and lets Ethan settle above her. He lines up at her entrance and she stares up at him. Ethan meets her eyes before he pushes into her. She gasps from the stretch and grabs his triceps. It's painful at first but quickly turns into pleasure the longer he's inside her. He slowly pushes into her until he's completely buried inside her.

Once the pain completely fades, she nods at him. "Go," she tells him.

As soon as he has her permission, Ethan rolls his hips. Her jaw drops as he slowly picks up speed. The pleasure is so much that she nearly blacks out. Her nails dig into his triceps so hard that she's pretty sure he's going to end up with marks on his arms.

This is the last thing that she ever expected to happen. She never thought she would be underneath Ethan and getting fucked by him. She doesn't know if she'll ever tell him this because his ego will grow bigger than it already is, but it might be the best sex she's ever had. It's a quick hookup but it's already better than the rest of the hookups she's ever had, not that there are that many to compare it to.

She wouldn't be against it if this were to ever happen again.

Ethan continues to move deeply into her, but his movements pick up speed. The bed creaks and the room his filled with the soft moans that pass her lips. Ethan pants as he continues to move.

She starts to move her hips to match his pace. "Holy shit," she cries out when the tip of his dick hits her favorite spot. "Ethan."

"Like that, baby?" Ethan pants. "Like feeling my dick inside you? Making you feel good?"

He slams into her once and she arches her back off the bed. "Yes!" she gasps. "Yes, Ethan. God. Fuck."

With her response, Ethan slows down but hits her spot over and over again. Her legs begin to shake as she reaches the edge. The knot in her stomach threatens to come undone.

Ethan leans down and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. She groans as she feels her entire body clench. She squeezes around his dick as she comes and cries out against his lips. Her hands find his hair and she grasps, needing something to hold onto.

She feels like she's on cloud nine as Ethan fucks her through both of their orgasms. Her body goes limp under his when he pulls out to dispose of the used orgasm.

He cleans both of them up with his shirt before he collapses on the bed next to her. Her breathing is labored but is slowly returning to normal.

When she finds the strength to move, she turns her head to look at him. Ethan's already looking at her when she looks at him.

"I never hated you," Ethan admits to her. She raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean it. I never hated you. I thought it was cute how flustered you got every time I messed with you so I kept doing it not knowing that it meant that you didn't like me. That was me trying to express my feelings but it was definitely the wrong way to do that."

She blinks at him. "You've said some hurtful thing to me, Ethan," she tells him. "I'm going to need some time to get over that but ... I think I'd be okay if we tried to be friends. I wouldn't be opposed to this either."

"I knew you always wanted me," he teases.

"Shut up," she replies as she leans in to kiss him.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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woodywood101blog · 14 days ago

Text

Experimental: 22 Weeks

Yazan could not understand why his belly continued to grow, even as he was cutting down on his meals, increasing his exercise frequency, and anything else he could do to make the belly disappear.

The following weeks were a blur of working out for three hours every evening, six days a week, plus cutting out all fats and sugars and going on a strict low carb diet. The only thing the changes did to Yazan was make him more tired and stressed at work. Plus, the belly kept growing.

He was sitting in his office at the hospital, absent-mindedly rubbing the belly when he felt flutters within his stomach. He gasped, and was in such shock that he leapt to the sink nearby and threw up his poor excuse of a lunch.

Randy was hoping to ask Yazan about a patient of his, and knocked on Yazan’s office door. He peered inside when Yazan responded with a groan, and saw Yazan perched over his sink, spitting out the last of his vomit.

“You’ve really got to get this bug checked out, Yaz.”

“Something moved.”

“What?”

“I mean it, something moved. Come here and feel this.” Yazan unbuttoned his tight shirt to expose his belly. Randy was firstly surprised with how round and globe-like Yazan’s belly looked. Yazan always focused on fitness, so seeing him go from just a bulk to something more extreme meant his mental health was rough, he was highly stressed, or a rapidly growing gastrointestinal cancer. He walked towards Yazan and prodded the belly, feeling that it wasn’t soft like regular abdominal fat. Instead, it felt solid. Then he felt it - a brief flutter. He looked up at Yazan in confusion. “You felt that too, right? I swear, I’m not going crazy!”

“Let’s go across to imaging, shall we?” Randy offered. Yazan groaned, not because of the need to go and find out what was happening, but because it meant he needed to try and button his shirt again, which was getting harder each day.

“Let me know when you’re done moaning!” Randy said as he was walking out of Yazan’s office. Yazan chuckled and got himself ready. He could feel pressure building on his back, so used his palm to apply some pressure to his lower back, which seemed to help as he started moving towards the imaging ward.

Once in imaging, he saw Randy already set up with the ultrasound machine. “You know the drill: shirt off, belt off, lay down and deep breaths.” Randy occasionally considered working in radiology, but found his main calling in paediatrics. Regardless, it felt second nature to him using the various machines, such as ultrasounds.

Randy squeezed some gel onto the wand, and started towards the lower front area of Yazan’s belly, near his belly button. The answer was almost instantaneous.

“What the fuck is that?” Yazan asked.

“1… 2…”

“Randy, why are you counting…”

“Shh, 3…”

“Don’t you fucking dare shush me!”

“4 foetuses.”

Yazan fainted almost instantly.

***

Mike was growing more and more nervous with the lack of content he saw on Yazan’s social media. I really hope there are no serious complications from whatever is happening, Mike thought. After three more days of limited content aside from text-only Instagram stories, he decided to bite the bullet and message Yazan.

Hey there Yazan, not too sure if you remember me, but I’m Mike, the Australian doctor you met while in Sydney for the medical conference. I was wondering if you were free for a video call sometime soon, just to see how you’re going…

Yazan was sitting at home, feeling the odd flitter of movement in his belly when he felt a buzz from his phone. “Instagram: New message from @drmikeallred” As soon as Yazan saw the message from Mike and clicked on his Instagram profile, the dinner at the Oxford Hotel immediately came to mind.

“I was living my normal life when I suddenly had this hot flush… and then had this urge to be fucked by anyone… and now I have four babies in me? Wasn’t Mike one of those researchers on… male pregnancy? Oh hell no!”

He ignored the message. There’s no fucking way Mike is the one who caused all this, Yazan screamed.

***

Each morning, Yazan woke up feeling his stomach stretching more tightly than the previous day. He found it astounding that he probably wasn’t even half-way through the pregnancy and already felt like he was full-term with a single baby. Any vague sense of relief he had from lying in bed immediately disappeared when he sat up and gravity caused his belly to drop into his lap. From there, the babies would start to wake up and stretch by pummeling his stomach and diaphragm.

He eventually got up from his king bed and slowly walked his way to his bathroom. Every time he flicked the lights on, he was gobsmacked by the growing belly and its gradual transformation. He started to notice every crevice, every hint of stretch marks and his losing battle to maintain his fitness.

Yazan swayed sideways to see how much further his stomach extends. He can vaguely see the top half of his feet when he looks down, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before he loses the ability to see his feet too. One of his babies moves at that moment, and he looks back up towards the mirror to see the ripple across his belly. He shudders.

While looking up, he notices his pecs are starting to soften, and that his nipples are now a darker shade of pink. He lifts one of his pecs up and notices his pec feels slightly fatter than before. He dreads how much more will change with them.

After his morning care routine, he eventually got dressed into his work clothes, which in itself has become more of a struggle than before. He started ordering some larger shirts a couple of weeks ago, but even those shirts burst at the seams trying to keep his belly in place. He resorted to buying “Big and Tall” branded shirts to try and keep some sort of dignity, even though he never thought he’d have to wear those types of shirts, unless he went down the route of becoming a bodybuilder. At the moment, his pants feel fine, aside from his butt and thighs feeling slightly thicker.

Yazan’s patients were starting to notice the sudden growth around his belly. “Looks like you could use some of the advice you give us, Dr Yazan!” one of his patients joked.

“Ah, well…” and just as he was about to continue, Yazan briefly gasped as one of the babies moved around the top of his stomach aggressively. The patient raised one of his eyebrows at Dr Yazan, who looked back at the patient sheepishly.

How much fucking longer, Yazan thought.

***

How much fucking longer, Mike thought. Yazan hadn’t replied to his message for weeks at this point, and he was getting more nervous that something had gone terribly wrong for Yazan. All Mike wanted to do was check that Yazan was alive, and that if he was pregnant for some miraculous reason, he was okay.

One lazy Thursday evening after a day at the research lab at the university, Mike got a reply back from Yazan.

Hey, sorry for not replying sooner. Some things have popped up recently… Are you free for a chat soon?

Mike immediately leapt at the message. He got a video call request from Yazan, and with a deep breath swiped to accept the call. Mike saw Yazan in a white singlet that appeared tighter than usual. However, he could only see from the chest up.

“Hello there, stranger.” Mike tried to say suavely.

“Hello. Let me just start by saying that I don’t know what is really happening, but…”

(picture by @bigmpregnm)

Yazan swapped the camera around to show him standing in front of his bathroom mirror. Mike’s eyes bulged when he saw what he could only describe as a gigantic belly that is barely covered by his super tight white singlet. He had only seen these sizes when he was helping women carrying multiples. But there’s no way -

“... there are four in here.”

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me. FOUR! I have either four humans, or four fucking aliens, growing inside me. You better tell me what’s going on!”

Mike was genuinely speechless. His experiment was not meant to work. The hormones shouldn’t be lasting this long, let alone remain strong enough to sustain a pregnancy. Multiples? It should be impossible. And yet, here he was looking at a man that he had a one night stand with, carrying quadruplets. “D-Do you know how far along you are?”

“According to my friend Randy, I should be about half-way now, so I guess around 22 or 23 weeks?”

“Normally for quadruplets, ‘full-term’ is really around 28 weeks, so I guess you won’t be carrying them for much longer?”

“Are those really your words of support?”

“Sorry… Do you reckon you could come back to Australia? I want to check that you, and the babies, are healthy.”

Plus maybe write up some detailed observations for the next paper - for good measure - Mike thought.

“Do you think I’m really going to be cleared to fly in my condition?”

“Bring your friend Randy. He’s a doctor, get him to medically clear you.”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Clearly I am, because a man shouldn’t be pregnant, and yet here you are, so I might as well keep on going and see it in the flesh.”

Yazan chuckled, but it cut short with a jab at his side from one of the babies. He brought the camera down to show the ripples across the belly. Mike was mesmerised. He did that to the hottest male doctor from the United States.

“Look, I’ll think about it and let you know, alright?”

“Thanks, Yazan. But please, don’t be a stranger...”

“Alright, Mike. Chat soon.”

***

Randy was walking through the hospital wards when he decided to slip by Yazan’s office. He couldn’t quite believe it when he did the ultrasound of Yazan’s belly. Four babies? How was this even possible? Is Yazan intersex? Is this an ectopic pregnancy? Surely the pregnancy would not be viable beyond the first trimester, yet he’s now about 24 weeks along based on when he went to the conference in Sydney?

All these thoughts were swirling around in his head, but there was one thought that kept springing to mind: I want to be there for him.

Randy has always wanted kids for as long as he could remember. When he realised he was gay as a teen, it was one of the first things he worried about in the process of telling friends and eventually his family. How would he become a father?

Yazan being pregnant - weird as it was to say out loud - gives Randy an option. He had no idea whether Yazan wanted to keep the kids or give them up for adoption. If he says he doesn’t want them, Randy was more than ready to become the four babies’ father.

Randy got to Yazan’s office and knocked.

“Come in!”

Randy walked in and saw Yazan leaning against a bench. He was wearing one of the last sweaters that could stretch tightly across his bump. There was no denying that he was pregnant. He could even see his pecs look slightly perkier than before.

Maybe Yazan is intersex?

“When you’re done gawking at me, you can answer my question!” Yazan said.

“Oh, sorry Yaz! It’s just…”

“Yeah, I know, it’s pretty weird.” Yazan smirked at Randy. Randy smiled back.

Randy’s newest thought? I think I want to have kids with Yazan.

#mpreg #male pregnancy #mpreg morph #pregnant man #short story #experimental

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gloomwitchwrites · 9 months ago

Text

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (1 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, protective Kyle, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

With no one to turn to, you contact Gaz, knowing that he'll listen. But old instincts are hard to ignore, and Gaz comes to you because your current boyfriend isn't worth your love. He needs you to understand that.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

It’s late. The colors on the television are bright in the dark room. Sound is off but Kyle isn’t watching. It’s more for the background. A distraction. All the muscles in his body ache. That’s how it always is when he returns from another deployment.

Everything is fine until he arrives home and plops onto the sofa. Like a slumbering bear emerging from winter hibernation, his body reacts to the sudden silence of rest as if peace isn’t something Kyle deserves. It’s why he’s always gone, and because of his continuous absences, you left.

Lonely. You were always lonely with him, and it’s because Kyle made it so. It’s a constant regret that sits in the back of his throat like spice buildup. It burns. Rages. Simmers.

When Kyle’s phone starts buzzing, he doesn’t notice at first. The screen is bright like the television, but it isn’t until its rattling boxy body shifts that Kyle’s gaze glances downward. He considers leaving it, allowing the caller to fall to voicemail, but something stirs in his stomach. It hooks his attention.

Perhaps it’s the late hour or the sudden tightness in his chest. Something is bothering him like stubborn sticky spots on the kitchen floor.

Kyle sits up, reaching for the vibrating phone on the tabletop.

Your name scrolls across the screen.

At first, Kyle’s mind cannot comprehend it. The letters that make up your name move over the screen of the phone in a blur, almost like they’re moving too quickly. But that isn’t possible. Kyle’s mind simply cannot comprehend why the hell you’re calling him this late at night.

You are no longer his. The two of you aren’t together. You moved on and rightfully so. Kyle has seen all the social media posts, and sometimes the blokes at work might bring you up, usually to provoke him. But the fucking joke is on them. The separation was mutual. It was kind and calm and fine.

But that doesn’t mean Kyle hasn’t thought about you. There is no box inside his head to put you in. There is no hole or lock or key or barren wasteland where he could simply toss your memory into and forget.

Kyle didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to let you go.

But you weren’t happy. He was always gone, and still is. Kyle never figured out how to be a partner to you when he was a partner to his work.

He regrets not fighting for you. He regrets not speaking up instead of gently bowing out.

And it’s late. It’s fucking late. Why are you calling him?

Hope—or a sliver of it—blooms in his chest, twisting around inside his body like ribbons around bone. When the feeling pulls taut, that excitement slides into worry.

The two of you are not together.

You rarely call him.

But his phone is buzzing.

And you are waiting on the other end.

Kyle’s slides his thumb across his phone’s screen, answering the call. He brings it up his ear, and that is when he hears it—a choked inhalation. It is one he recognizes. You’re crying, and trying to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” asks Kyle automatically, the instinct to take care of you rising to the surface.

There is a soft sniffle before you speak. “It’s—fuck. I’m sorry for calling you this late. I didn’t think you’d even pick up. Or be home. Are you home? Shit. I—”

“What’s wrong?” he repeats, because there has to be something wrong. You’re calling him, not your boyfriend. “Are you hurt?”

The idea of someone putting hands on you builds in his mind. It is followed by so many other possibilities. A wrecked car. Someone following you home. Everything.

“No—I mean.” You pause, sighing. The difficulty to communicate doesn’t sit right with him. You’re clearly in distress and the need to fix it is unbearable.

“Are you at home?” This time Kyle lowers his voice. Makes it soft. Gentle.

“Yes,” you answer.

He nods as if you can see him. “I’m coming over.” Kyle is already pushing off the couch, shrugging on his coat, and reaching for his keys.

“Kyle.” You say his name—just his name—and it says so much.

The ribbon between his bones loosens. Tightens. Ties his emotions and memory of you all together until your face is all he can picture.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Kyle makes it in fifteen.

When you answer the door, Kyle shatters like glass hurled against the wall. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying. The look on your face dances between anger, sadness, and relief. He has no idea where on the spectrum he currently sits but this vision of you only puts him back to those days when he’d come home for a few days, taking off again, leaving you with nothing for stretches at a time.

There are no awkward greetings. No embarrassed flushes. Kyle does not hesitate, and you open for him. He reaches for you, and you answer in kind, embracing Kyle so hard you might squeeze the air from his lungs.

That would be fine. Kyle would happily suffocate.

Kyle stands and holds you, breathing in your familiar scent, pressing his face into your hair. His eyes close, and it’s just like before. Like you never left him. The sensation of you this close ignites every possessive part of him. It tells him to not let go and to keep you close.

But you are not his woman. Not anymore. And yet you should be.

He does not pull away until you do. But you don’t retreat into your flat, or slip out of reach. You stay right where you are, the two of you hovering just inside the doorway. On instinct, Kyle is touching you, one hand cupping the side of your face, your tears staining his skin where he touches your flesh. His other hand is on your upper arm, thumb rubbing across the bare skin there in gentle strokes.

You begin to melt, the muscles in your body relaxing. What Kyle wants to do is to take you to the couch or the bed, to drape you over his body, to place you in his lap. That is the intimacy he craves. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

Those gorgeous lips of your part, mouth opening as if you wish to speak, but whatever you want to say is lodged in your throat. In their place come fresh tears and sudden shifts of emotions that range from frustration to despair.

You’re hurting. You’re hurting so much, and Kyle only wants to fix things.

“Look at me,” murmurs Kyle, both hands now cradling your face. “Let’s get you settled. Yeah?” You nod, your small smile forced. “Come with me,” he coaxes.

He draws away and gently reaches out to take your hand, guiding you over to the sofa. He instructs you to recline, grabbing a few more pillows and a blanket. Once you’re all tucked in, Kyle digs around in your kitchen searching for snacks while the kettle boils for tea.

The need to take care of you is overwhelming. Kyle’s head throbs from the incessant voice that tells him to get you calm, to make you comfortable, to listen when you’re ready. The routine is easy, and Kyle provides, executing what you need without prompting or even second guessing it.

And you open up for him. Thank him. Reach out with your hand to hold his as he sits next to you on the couch. You’re calmer now with your tears wiped away and your face no longer puffy.

“Ready to talk about it?”

Your thumb runs along the edge of your mug. “Still want to hear it?”

“You can tell me anything,” he replies automatically.

You lick your lips and inhale. “He yelled at me.” By the defeat in your tone, Kyle can immediately tell that this isn’t the first time.

Kyle stays quiet, allowing you to take the lead, to tell it however you need to.

“This time it happened after we met up with some of his friends. I called him ‘boyfriend’ and got a few odd looks. In the car he told me not to call him that. I didn’t understand so I pushed.” You glance down at your tea. “He screamed the whole ride home. Dropped me off here and wouldn’t even look at me.”

Kyle goes cold all over. You’ve been with this guy for almost six months and he’s upset that you referred to him as your ‘boyfriend?’ No. Fuck him. That’s fuck boy behavior. That’s a man who wants all the benefits without any of the commitment. You don’t deserve that. And this fucker doesn’t deserve you.

Sighing, you reach for your phone and unlock it, turning it around to present it. Kyle takes it, staring at the screen. There are texts upon texts from the guy, all of which you’ve left unanswered. It starts as an apology and quickly becomes angrier as he scrolls.

But you did answer him. It’s the very last message. You sent it just before you called Kyle.

We’re done, it reads.

And there is no answering reply. There are no pulsing bubbles to even indicate that he’s formulating a response.

Good. Fucking good.

Kyle extends his arm, returning the phone. You don’t lock it. You shut it down, tossing it onto the table. Placing the mug of tea down, you sit up, staring intensely into Kyle’s eyes. There is so much he sees there, but he won’t move first even though he wants to, even though he wants you to return to his arms so he can remind you just how perfect the two of you are for each other.

But sometimes memory and the movement of it are just the length of a singular breath.

Maybe it is Kyle that moves first. Maybe it is you. In moments—seconds—you are straddling Kyle’s lap, arms laced around the back of his neck, your mouths pressed together in perfectly wanton need, a reunion that shakes every bone in his body.

You are fresh air. Cold ice cream on a hot summer day. Strawberries with sugar and cream. Sweet. Perfect. And only for his consumption. That is always how it should be.

Kyle’s hands slide up your body, over every curve.

“I miss you. I miss you all the time,” you confess, fingers digging into the front of his shirt.

Your admission is validation.

“I’d never tell you to not call me ‘boyfriend,’” murmurs Kyle against your mouth before going in for another kiss. “I’d want to hear you say it all the time.”

His words are a promise. An invitation.

Take me back. Please. Choose me.

Your lips part and Kyle slides his tongue inside, relearning your flavor. It is heaven dissolving on his tongue. He chases it, chases you, until you’re tugging at his clothes, wanting them gone.

It doesn’t matter that this is your sofa. If you want him, Kyle will lay himself bare, let you have whatever the fuck you want. There isn’t much to remove from you, but once the two of you are bare and you are straddling his lap, Kyle gives all his love and attention to these next moments.

Your body briefly resists, and then it melts, allowing him entrance. Kyle wraps one arm around your waist, hand splayed over your lower back to support your weight as you roll your hips up and down his cock. His other hand holds onto the side of your throat, keeping your gaze on him as you fuck yourself on him.

It’s glorious. Perfect. You are so slick and warm around him. He never forgot, but the real thing is better than memory. Better than his hand in the shower or the dark. You are moaning, light and wavering and only for him.

Your fingers dig in, nails clawing but not tearing. On the next rock of your hips, Kyle slides deep, and the sound you make nearly snaps his control. He holds fast, hand sliding to squeeze your ass as your movements become frantic and with no purposeful rhythm. You’re seeking your end, and Kyle wants you to have it. He needs you to have it.

“Come on my cock, love. For me. Yes. Like that.” You squeeze and Kyle groans loudly. “That’s it. Fucking hell, love.

You turn your face into his neck to stifle the cry that erupts from your throat as your orgasm hits you. Kyle nearly finishes himself, your pussy a vice around him, claiming him. A shudder runs through your limbs, and then you’re nipping at Kyle’s neck and jaw.

“Finish inside me,” you whimper, drawing back enough to gaze into his eyes.

Kyle doesn’t need you to say it twice.

Changing position, Kyle slides both hands to the curve of your ass. Lifting, he shifts you until he’s propped up on his knees. Your legs drape over his arms, completely open for him. You cling to him and Kyle brings your bodies together over and over again.

He will finish—he will, but Kyle needs to hear that word first.

“Are you mine?” he asks between clenched teeth. It’s the only thing keeping him steady. He’s ready to snap, ready to release.

You nod and it isn’t enough.

“Say it.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.”

Kyle grinds his pelvis against you, rubbing perfectly across your already sensitive clit. You cry out, clench around him again, but still, he needs to hear you say it.

“What am I to you?”

“Kyle,” you moan, and he laughs.

“Not that.” A little spasm runs through you and Kyle feels it reverberate all the way to his brain. “Won’t give you what you want until you say it.”

You gasp as the next thrust punches the air from your lungs. “Boyfriend,” you manage to whimper. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Fucking right.

Kyle immediately takes you to your back on the couch, thrusting a few more times before pressing taut, sealing your bodies together as his own release overcomes him.

His mouth meets yours and Kyle’s body is singing, pulsing, and bright.

You are his.

You are his again.

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year ago

Text

things you don't know | jjk

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend–not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.

You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.

And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.

But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.

The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.

His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.

You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.

The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.

But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.

"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.

And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.

"Yeah, I saw it."

And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.

Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.

You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.

"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"

Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.

"Nope," you said flatly.

"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.

Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.

Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.

You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.

"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."

You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."

"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.

Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.

She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."

You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"

"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."

It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.

"I got you. Don't worry about it!"

Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.

"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.

"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.

“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”

"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.

"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.

"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.

"Yes! That's my girl!"

After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.

As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck, Lana?"

"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.

"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.

“He-who-must-not-be-named!”

"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.

She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.

A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's here too."

Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.

You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?

You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.

"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.

"You're so fucking dramatic."

"It's the only way to avoid them."

Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."

"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.

"Granny panties with this dress?"

"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.

"Would've been better if you went commando."

"Lana! I have some dignity."

"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."

"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.

"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.

"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."

"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.

"Your point is?" Lana blinked.

You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.

"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.

Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.

You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.

You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.

That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.

You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.

Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.

Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.

You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.

Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"

"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.

Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.

"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.

You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.

Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.

You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.

You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.

"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.

"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.

"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.

"You remember—"

Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"

Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?

You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.

"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.

"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"

You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"

"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”

Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?

"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.

"Where's what?"

You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.

"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"

You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."

He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."

He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.

"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."

He quieted down, cowering his head.

"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."

You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.

Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.

"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."

Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.

You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.

You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.

"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.

"That's not fair."

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.

"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.

"You looked pretty cozy earlier."

Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."

"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.

Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.

Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."

You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.

You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.

"Tell me one thing."

Jungkook hummed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.

His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."

"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."

"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.

"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.

Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.

There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.

"Bye, Jungkook."

✨ read part two | read part three ✨

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios

1K notes · View notes

chheolie · 5 months ago

Text

where kim mingyu unexpectedly encounters his first love in paris.

"bonne après-midi, mademoiselle y/n," the polished voice of the french receptionist sounded from the other side of the hotel room phone line. "the guests you were waiting for have just arrived. may i let them come up to your room?" he continued, now in english, maintaining the formality.

"of course, please!" you responded gently, with a slight smile on your lips.

dressed in a soft velvet robe with matching slippers, your hair loose awaiting an elegant hairstyle, you were getting ready for the evening. soon, the team that would handle your preparation for the event would arrive at your room.

soon, a protective cover was delicately opened, revealing the stunning dress you would wear in a few hours. seated in your glam chair, you watched through the mirror as the preparations began.

distracted, you were scrolling through your social media feed when your manager asked what you would like to eat before the event. "a caprese sandwich and a kale juice, please," you requested, and soon you were savoring your meal, already with your makeup and hairstyle done.

your hair was tied in an elegant ponytail, and the makeup, perfectly matching the black dress, further accentuated your natural beauty. after one last look in the mirror and a few photo snaps, you were finally ready for the party.

it was the usual: camera flashes lighting up the environment as you stepped out of the car, security guiding you through the crowd of fans and paparazzi. the red carpet was covered with a sea of journalists, all trying to catch your attention with questions and interview requests. the sound of cameras clicking incessantly and the animated voices mixed into an almost hypnotic frenzy.

upon entering the event venue, an efficient and well-dressed assistant immediately approached, offering a glass of champagne and informing you about the night's schedule. the soft lighting and ambient music created an elegant atmosphere, while other celebrities and influencers strolled through the corridors, exchanging greetings and calculated smiles.

the runway shows were the highlight of the evening, of course. seated in the front row, alongside other influential figures in the fashion world, you watched as the models walked the runway in stunning outfits. each collection seemed to outdo the previous in creativity and luxury. clapping at the right moments, making eye contact with the designers, and being seen appreciating the pieces were part of the game.

after the shows, it was time to socialize at an exclusive and secret after-party. the loud music, vibrant lights, and the environment filled with international celebrities provided the perfect setting for animated conversations and selfies that might never be posted.

but then, you needed to go to the venue's restroom. distracted, you followed the signs, focused on finding your destination. turning into a narrow corridor, you felt a strong bump. "fu..." you almost cursed loud as the glass was thrown to the ground. you felt the pain from the impact; the man was big and strong.

"i'm so.. y/n?" he said, surprised.

"oh my god, mingyu! you here?" you asked, equally surprised.

"did i hurt you? i'm sorry," he said, struggling with himself not to touch you.

"it's okay," you smiled awkwardly. "sorry again," he said. and you nodded, smiling as you left for the bathroom.

after that encounter, all you could see was mingyu at that party. how did you not see him before?

mingyu was also looking for you with his eyes, his mind transported to that time in the green room, when you still dreamed of debuting as a singer in a big girl group. he caught himself smiling, remembering those moments.

today, music is not your main job. you found yourself in acting and love what you do more than anything. he couldn't help but notice how incredible and fascinating you've become.

he knew you had become a great actress, but everything changed in your sincere friendship when you decided to reveal a secret to him. "well, mingyu... i don't know the best way to tell you this, but i fell in love with you," he remembered every word perfectly, the sound of your voice so vivid in his memory that it seemed like it was said minutes ago.

he took a deep breath, irritated, remembering what came next: he rejected your feelings.

mingyu closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to push away those memories that brought regret and longing.

when he came back to himself, he noticed you were no longer there. so he decided that the party was over for him too.

you arrived at your hotel room, feeling something you could barely define. seeing mingyu after so many years did you good. he used to be the person you sought when you needed a shoulder to cry on, a friend who celebrated your victories and never let you give up. maybe that's why you fell in love, maybe you confused his affection.

already in sweatpants and a clean face, after a relaxing hot bath, you got into the elevator and went up to the rooftop to get some air.

and then you realized that fate wasn't kidding that day. there was mingyu, alone, pacing back and forth, speaking on the phone in a loud and harsh tone. he seemed upset, and you felt a pang in your heart watching this scene.

he hung up the phone, and you could almost hear the heavy sigh. you approached slowly, pretending to have just arrived.

with a forced smile on your face, you disguised the worry you felt.

unlike you, he didn't bother to hide his bad mood. and you didn't think of anything else but what you would have done years ago: you hugged him tightly.

mingyu was surprised. he didn't know what to do but didn't want to think too much either. he just accepted, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to be enveloped in the embrace of someone he missed so much.

you stroked his back, showing that you were there with and for him. he understood the message, responding to the hug's squeeze. "thank you, y/n," he said.

you two let go, and you smiled at him, this time sincerely. "will everything be okay?" you asked.

"yes," he replied. "it's just a work problem."

you nodded, relieved, and he laughed frustratedly.

"i didn't expect to see you again under these circumstances," he said, and you laughed too.

"it happens..." you replied, not knowing what to say.

"sure," he mocked. and you both laughed.

"how have you been?" you asked.

"good," he said, nodding. "and you?"

"the same," you tucked your hair behind your ear. "seeing you earlier made me revisit some years ago," you confessed.

"me too," he replied, sounding sulky

"do you remember that time in the green room, when we were just dreamers?" you began, and he smiled.

"of course i remember. those days were full of hope and craziness," mingyu replied, the nostalgia visible in his eyes.

"i remember how you always cheered me up, no matter how hard the day was," you said, your voice soft and thoughtful.

"you did the same for me, more times than i can count," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"and to think everything changed since then... we changed," you continued, your voice low.

"yes, but some things haven't changed, y/n. the way i'm feeling now being near you, for example," mingyu confessed, turning to face you.

you took a deep breath, feeling the tension in the air.

"mingyu, about that time... i didn't expect you to feel the same. i just wanted to be honest," you said, remembering the confession that changed everything.

"i know. and i regret rejecting your feelings," he said, the sincerity in his eyes touching you deeply. "i was an idiot, afraid of ruining what we had and ended up pushing you away."

"mingyu..." you began, but he interrupted you.

"let me finish. i don't know if it's still possible, but i'd like a second chance. can we start over?" he paused, "i mean. can we see each other again?"

you responded to him with the same tight hug from minutes ago. though you two couldn't see, both of you were smiling.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu #svt #seventeen #mingyu imagines #mingyu seventeen #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff

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cvnt4him · 3 months ago

Note

Izuku dating a literal insomniac 🫡

Let's see what I can come up with<3

Restless nights are the worst. Being unable to do the one thing you want and need most in the world is making you go crazy. You sigh heavily as you try and force yourself to sleep. Tossing and turning in bed everything catching your attention besides tiredness. It's annoying you deeply.

You completely give up after you see the clock, 12 am. You have things to do tomorrow and you just know you're going to be tired but oh well. Your body doesn't want to cooperate, your mind doesn't want to shut the hell up, it's like nothing wants to do what you need.

You have nothing to do, it's literally midnight the whole world should be asleep. So why can't you get to sleep? The question that you keep asking yourself night after night as you restlessly scroll through social media. Nothing is interesting you long enough, everything is boring and annoying. Gosh this is really starting to piss you off.

The main reason you were trying to even go to sleep at better times was for your boyfriend. You'd told him about how your nights were going and he instantly called it "insomnia". Izuku was nothing more than a heavens sent, he loves having you over and loves sleeping with you! Unfortunately it's not exactly allowed to have the opposite gender in your rooms after hours.

Normally you two would just sneak to one another, however recently aizawa has been doing dorm checks and caught you two in the bed with each other. He barred you two from seeing each other after hours. It was literally like your soul had been ripped out of you. You seem to sleep better under izukus watch, next to him in bed, his body heat warming you comfortably.

Yet now that you don't have it you feel like you're going crazy. You another heavy sigh leaving you, you figure you have no other choice. You'd have to wake your boyfriend. It hurts your heart even just thinking about waking him, you knew he was asleep by now and understood he needed it. You contemplated even texting him but it's like your fingers were moving on their own.

" hey u awake??"

" unfortunately so😞"

" can't sleep? :(("

You sigh again, surprised that he was even awake you thought for sure he'd be asleep.

nope it's getting on my fucking nerves bro

" I'm sorry hon, I wish there was a way I could make you feel better :( "

" I could always try sneaking out!!😼😼"

" so, uhm, no!😓 I don't want you getting in trouble "

" wtf am I supposed to do. Js sit here n look at the fucking ceiling?????"

You groaned angry he wouldn't let you go to him. It's all you wanted and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it to. You just wanted to be in his arms was that so bad????

" wanna call?"

" maybe my voice will help you calm down, yk like out you to sleep or smth?"

Reading that text your anger completely disappeared, literally evaporating at the thought of hearing his voice. You missed him so much.

"yes please!!!!!💕💕"

" you got it ml💗💗"

You rolled on your side and held your phone close to your chest until you heard it ring picking up within an instant. You squealed and giggled into the mic causing him to chuckle, his light voice slightly groggy. Despite him only chuckling you can hear the tiredness within it.

“ hello, my love.”

He spoke lowly slightly whispering with a chuckle laced in his voice, you could hear the smile on his lips. He was just so cute you couldn't help but kick your feet. He gives you such cuteness aggression.

“ hi baby!!! I miss you.”

You say back to him making him hum, he missed you too he didn't even need to say it, you already knew. He exhaled into the mic before yawning, it was just so cute you couldn't help the line of giggles that escaped.

“ you need to get some rest my love, I don't want you to be tired in the morning.”

“ I know but I just can't sleep... I just want to like, hear your voice I guess.”

“ hmm~, what am I gonna do with you, eh?”

His tired voice was undeniably attractive, it made you bite your lip subconsciously. When he hummed into the mic it gave you butterflies, it was just so... Moving.

Silence fell upon the two of you, a comfortable one at that. Hearing his breath wavering, the sound of him inhaling and exhaling did indeed bring you at peace. It was calming in an odd sense, it was almost as if he was really there. You looked at the time, 2 am.. god you couldn't believe 2 hours had already passed.

With a sigh you'd decided to try once more. You'd try to fall asleep, this time having more hope that you could with your boyfriend on the line. You get comfortable, the sound of covers moving and shifting being heard on his end a hum left him again. You could tell he was tired or almost sleep, it made you feel bad. After getting comfortable silence was there again, just the sound of his breathing coming through. You decided to say one last thing before trying again.

“ I love you, zuku. thank you.”

You closed your eyes with a sigh, lying there for a couple of minutes, random things started flooding your mind instantly causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“ love y’too...”

That snapped you out of your little daze, all the things running through your head instantly vanishing at the sound of his voice all hushed and quiet, his words slurred and smushed together. It was just too adorable. You giggle slightly and close your eyes once more with a smile present on your face.

AN: hope this is good idk I've been feeling down lately like so much is happening I'm just drained. This was kinda rushed but hope it's good<3333

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vanteguccir · 10 months ago

Text

── ୨୧ !　𝗕𝗢𝗗𝗬 𝗛𝗨𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚

　　　　　　　　　𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆𝒔 x reader

SUMMARY: Where the hate that Y/N has been receiving on social media gets her on a path that she couldn't come back alone from.

WARNING: Eating disorder, dysmorphia, self-hatred, comparison. PLEASE read with caution!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N was home alone for the second week in a row, and to say that things were easy would be a big lie. Her days were always the same: Spending hours doing different physical exercises and other hours reading the most horrible comments from Harry's fans.

She could never say they were bad people, after all they loved and cared about Harry, but there was something within the fandom against her, and she wondered if it was because she wasn't famous or because she wasn't thin.

Her heart told her that she shouldn't worry about it, there were sweet people who defended her and always presented proof of how much happier Harry seemed to be when with her, but her mind screamed that it was option two.

Hours of sleep were lost with Y/N in front of the mirror, without any clothes and with her hair tied up, her dark eyes with big bags underneath wandering over every part of her body while her brain made records of absolutely all the negative parts.

To say that she wasn't in agony every time she saw an old article about Harry's exes or comments comparing them all to her was an understatement, she could only feel disgusted with herself and her body, while all her past traumas came back with full strength.

With Harry away it made it easier for her to do her fasting and her long hours of physical exercise, in addition to going days without ingesting anything more than one or two leaves of pure lettuce, and lots of water. The feeling of the cold water running through her body and reaching her empty stomach was pleasurable, and all she could think about was how thin she only felt when her stomach was empty.

And without even realizing it, her best friend became her scale, and her greatest partner became her seamstress' measuring tape. Y/N had even printed out some images of the body models she dreamed of having every day, and pasted each one of them in different corners of the house, especially in the kitchen, with strong messages full of triggers that made her think twice before opening the refrigerator or cupboard.

It wasn't surprising that she had an exaggerated reaction when she was told that Harry would have a week without shows, and that in that week he would return home and, consequently, to her. Y/N wasn't prepared to see him again, or rather, she wasn't thin enough to do so. Her weak legs ran around the house, tearing off all the photos and messages stuck to doors and walls, storing them in a far away place, where he wouldn't find.

She tried to take a long shower and brush her teeth repeatedly to get rid of the smell that she got from the lack of food. And then she felt a little ready for what was to come.

It wasn't long before the sound of the key in the main door was heard and the doorknob turned, the tall, dark figure appearing in the doorway with a suitcase in one hand and a big smile on his face, his emerald green eyes searching for her.

Y/N smiled one of her best smiles and ran to meet him, careful not to throw her full weight against him. She couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as his large hands encircled her waist, the worry that he would feel the fat on her back regions running through her mind. But what she didn't notice was the confused look on Harry's face as his fingers felt how much smaller she was, and he wondered if she had started some kind of diet.

"I missed you so much, H." Y/N murmured against his shoulder.

"Not as much as I did, lovie. Every day, I just thought about having you with me, encouraging me and loving me, and then rewarding me." Y/N felt her body tense at the mention of the intimacy they both shared, the thought of him seeing her body, even though he had already seen it so many times that he had memorized every detail, made her fear.

"Why don't we take this suitcase to the bedroom and then see what we do?" She interrupted the moment, walking away with a fake smile and taking the suitcase from the taller man's hands, starting to climb the stairs, leaving a confused and worried Harry behind.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Two days had passed, days full of lies on Y/N's part and worry on Harry's part. Y/N skipped breakfast, using the fact that Harry woke up after her as an excuse, saying that she had already eaten breakfast; At lunch she couldn't just lie or make some excuse, so she simply took a spoonful of the food that the brunette cooked with so much love, and spread it across the plate, trying to give the impression of having a full plate; At dinner she simply said that she wasn't hungry and that she lost the habit of eating dinner after Harry went on tour.

The days went on like this, Harry felt confused about the situation, but it didn't seem like he didn't believe it, so a debate raged between whether to bring up the subject or not.

Until one day. Harry woke up with the morning sun shining through the open curtain, which Y/N opened every day, his body was warm from the duvet and Y/N's scent surrounded it, like Saturn's rings.

The man got up and did his routine, going to the bathroom, taking a quick shower and changing, ready to go down to meet his loved one, who was always waiting for him with a big smile, sitting at the kitchen counter with her cell phone in hand and a cup of coffee, which was just for him.

But today was different, as Harry went down the stairs a muffled sound became clearer, until his brain registered that the sound was of crying, with a frown the man quickened his pace and chased the sound, concern settling in his eyes.

It didn't take long for him to find Y/N in the fetal position on the main sofa in the room, the cell phone in her right hand while her left hand covered her mouth, trying futilely to stifle the sobs that broke from her throat.

Harry ran closer, kneeling on the floor in front of her seat on the sofa and placing his hands on the girl's knees, stroking them lightly.

"Y/N what happened? Who made you cry like this?" His green eyes migrated from her half-covered face and her cell phone.

"H-Harry-" Her voice broke as the taller man's name came out as a whimper.

"I'm here, baby!" He got closer, wrapping his hands around the smaller girl's shoulders, placing his forehead on the top of Y/N's head, breathing in her scent.

"Harry, I don't think I can do this anymore..." Y/N whispered.

"Do what, my love?"

"Us, Harry." The man moved quickly, astonished by his girl's response.

"Did I do something? It was one of those fake news that I'm cheating on you, wasn't it? Baby, I never-"

"No Harry, no. I know you would never do that! And you didn't do anything, I just..." She sighed and looked into his eyes, feeling guilty when she saw the pain in his emerald orbs. "Look at me, Harry, look at this." She pointed to his body, letting a loud sob out.

"What should I be seeing? Besides a beautiful woman."

Y/N laughed in disbelief, shaking her head and feeling a hint of anger start to rise, it was clear he would say something like that just to please her.

"Harry, I'm looking horrible. I don't have visible ribs or a protruding collarbone, I don't have a thigh gap or hip bones, I don't have thin wrists and I don't have well-marked cheekbones, I don't have pointy shoulders and I don't have a defined jaw... I don't have delicate hands or thin fingers, my waist isn't extremely thin and my breasts are too big. Harry, I'm not perfect and I can't give you what you need."

At this point Y/N was crying a desperate cry, with strong sobs that made her body shake and thick tears that ran down her face. Harry had tears welling up in his eyes as his hands balled into fists in anger at whoever had put these thoughts in his beloved's head.

"Y/N, who made you think like that? How can you deduce what I want?"

"Harry..." She closed her eyes tightly, her mind betraying her by bringing up images of Camille, the girl seemed to be kind, but Y/N couldn't help but feel jealous of her perfect body. "I'm not like them, I'm not like her!"

"Who? Baby, please-"

"I'm not like Camille or like Kendall or like Taylor, and I can't give you the pretty, thin image you need, the media hates me and I've lost count of how many times they've told you that you're blind from being with me, and I can't disagree with that."

Harry shook his head in denial, feeling angry at the media and everything they post and say with the intention of always offending someone.

Y/N continued to sob, and the force her body exerted with the act left her weak, the lack of food began to appear again and her eyes saw stars while her head swam. Harry grabbed her arms quickly, steadying her.

"Baby if you keep crying like that you're going to hurt yourself. Take a deep breath for me, hm? I'll get you a glass of water."

The brunette ran to the kitchen, starting to look for the decorated glass that he knew was the girl's favorite. While opening drawers and cabinets, his green eyes found a piece of paper glued to the front of the bottom shelf, where some industrialized sweets were kept. Harry took the paper and pulled it out, seeing a photo of a body exactly as described by Y/N and a note next to it, his eyes widened at the horrible mentions written there and he tried to get up quickly and return to the room, holding the paper firmly in your hands.

"Y/N what is this?" The brown-haired girl looked up quickly, her greatest fear happening right before her eyes. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. "Tell me something, when was the last time you ate anything?" She shook her head, ready to say it was the day before, but Harry interrupted her. "I mean a whole meal with a healthy amount."

Y/N remained silent, her eyes now fixed on the floor covered by the shag carpet, the older man took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He walked over to the smallest one and put the photo in his pants pocket, promising himself to look for others like it deep in the house.

"Y/N this is a serious situation, you can't keep something like this to yourself!" He couldn't help but feel frustration, he felt guilty for feeling like that because he knew that it wasn't Y/N's fault, but with the way that all of that came down, it just made his head confused and upset.

"Harry I'm fine, that was just-"

"Baby I bet you haven't eaten in days, do you think this is healthy, that this will get you somewhere other than a hospital bed? Letting this situation compromise you like this because of other people... That's not good for you. You don't need to have the same body as them, you don't need to have bones showing or a flat stomach to be magnificent. Those pants you're wearing were tight until a few weeks ago, and look at them now, they're baggy..."

Y/N kept her gaze down, her eyes were filling with uncontrollable tears that threatened to flow at any second again, her cheeks were heating up and the force she was exerting to contain the tears was starting to generate an unbearable headache. She knew Harry was right.

"I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me everything is okay. Just look into my eyes."

The girl slowly raised her head, her eyes focusing on Harry's beautiful green ones, which now held so much anguish and worry, a tear escaping from the corner of his right eye made her lower lip tremble. She opened her mouth to state that she was fine and that everything was going to get better, but her voice seemed to trail off for a second.

Her body hurt, her legs were wobbly and her arms were shaking slightly, she felt her head feel heavy. It was a horrible feeling, beyond normal.

"I-I... Harry, I think I need help."

She whispered, her tears flowing freely now with the weight of her words. Harry nodded vigorously, relieved that she understood that this situation was not normal, and promising himself that he would be by her side through the entire process, no matter how long it took.

And that night, after his girlfriend fell asleep, Harry cried.

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harryslittledaydreamer · 4 months ago

Text

His Sunflower...

Summary: Everyone knew of superstar Harry Styles. Everyone knows he has people working for him behind the scenes. However, not everyone knows who his secret lyricist is. Her name never in any credits, never mentioned, and never once in the media. But that's how she likes it.

THIS STORY INCLUDES: trauma, SA, muteness, smut, relationships, talks of mental health(anxiety, depression, panic disorder), and death(no main characters)

........................................................

"Hey y/n/n," the familiar deep voice sounded tiredly behind me. I turned my attention from the piano in front of me to the green-eyed brunette in the doorway, making his way into the studio. I looked in his direction, never meeting his eyes, gave a slight small smile and nodded in acknowledgement.

Turning back to the keys, I continued playing a melody I had started early this morning. Grabbing my notebook from beside me, I began writing some lyric ideas down, when suddenly I felt a presence overlooking my shoulder.

"Mitch and Sarah are coming in a few minutes to work on some pieces, do you need anything," Harry asked with a tired but fond smile. I shook my head politely and he nodded, walking away.

—

Let me backtrack a little. I've been Harry's lyricist/songwriter for about a month now, however, I've never spoken a word to anyone since being here. Well, actually, I haven't spoken in about five years, and with me currently being twenty-two, that has been since I was seventeen. I began posting melodies and lyrics on a website, and Harry's producer, Alex, stumbled across me one day, and messaged me on Instagram, asking if I would want to write for Harry. Immediately I turned the offer down due to my muteness and social anxiety, but with a lot of persuasion and going back and forth, I reluctantly agreed. A week after that, he invited me to a cafe to meet up with himself and Harry. Alex, could definitely tell that I wasn't a physical contact person, and opted for a polite head nod as enough of an introduction rather than a hand shake. Harry followed suit with a smile, though not without some curiosity.

Our initial meeting wasn't long seeing as I didn't talk. Alex went over some things, and Harry talked about what he was looking for, to which I nodded and smiled. At the end of the meeting, I typed a quick 'thank you' on my phone and smiled at both of them. The following day, Alex invited me to the studio, and the rest is history.

—

"Hey y/n/n, hey Harry," Sarah greeted with a wide grin in both of our directions. I gave a little wave, and Harry went in for a friendly hug while patting Mitch on the shoulder. After the greeting encounter, everyone got in their space and began messing around with their instrument.

After about an hour or so of writing and switching to play different melody ideas, I stood from the piano bench, and made my way over to Harry. His green orbs looked down at me, and I handed out my notebook with some lyrics I had written.

Licking his lips and picking his lip, he began reading the script. After what felt like an eternity, he looked up.

"Y/n, this is absolutely bloody brilliant," his deep British voice sounded. I offered him a small smile in return.

"Guys come over here, look what y/n/n wrote, " he spoke motioning for Mitch and Sarah. They got up and walked over to us, and began reading my notebook. Waving my hand a little to get their attention, I motioned them over to follow me to the piano. I sat down with their eyes on the back of my head, and began playing the melody for the song. On the last note, I paused and looked behind me. Each of them had tears threatening to spill down their faces. I'm guessing my look of alarm made Harry snap out of it, and he gradually started to clap.

"y/n, that was beautiful, bloody perfect," he said fondly grinning. Mitch and Sarah nodded agreeing with Harry. Mitch slipped from the group walking over to his guitar. He began to play some chords syncing to what chords I played on the piano. For some time, he messed around, came up with a cool picking pattern, and that is how From the Dining Table, my first song written for Harry styles, was born.

……

2 weeks later…

Myself, along with Harry's other band members, were called in for a meeting this morning. No one was told what this meeting consisted of, or the importance of it.

Gathering my tote bag, with some essentials stuffed in it, I slipped my converse on, took a deep breath, and made my way out of my apartment. I don’t drive, so I walk everywhere, including the studio. Upon approaching the building, I spotted Mitch and Sarah laughing about something walking through the front doors. Watching my footsteps until I reached the double doors, I felt my heart begin to race. I was nervous that maybe they were letting some of us go, or the team wasn’t doing well enough. Overwhelmed with my thoughts, with my eyes on the floor, I ran into a figure.

“Whoa, hey y/n/n, careful love, you okay?” a concerned Harry chuckled a little while placing his hands on my shoulders to steady me. Eyes wide with fear of retaliation on his part, I immediately stumbled back away from him with a curt nod, and continued making my way to the conference room.

Eventually, we all settled in and sat around a large table, everyone seemingly a little confused on why we were all there.

“Hello everyone, today, we are announcing to you all that we will be going on tour in six months from now. You all have been working tirelessly, and we thank you for that. With that said, we all need to be cracking down on this new record,” Jeff, Harry’s manager announced with a big grin plastered on his face.

A round of excited applause went around and everyone congratulated Harry with hugs and words of gratitude. Staying in my seat in the far corner, I looked up and met eyes for the first time with the green eyed Brit. For the split second he caught my eye, I think he saw the fear and anxiety behind them. Touring is a huge thing, for any artist, especially someone the size of Harry. Artists are always creating new music, so having a songwriter along the ride will hopefully aid in the making, at least that’s what Jeff said to me after the meeting. Of course, I responded with my usual nod, and proceeded to leave the room along with everyone else. As I was making my way to the side door, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay going on tour? I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. I totally understand and respect if you don’t, I-” I cut his rambling off by softly putting my hand on his and gently nodded.

The look of surprise crossed his features due to the physical contact I initiated. He gave me a warm smile and nodded, while I gently lifted my hand from his. I flashed him a gentle smile goodbye, and continued my way out.

.......

six months later...

"Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte, Pauli are in bus one, Niji, Ny Oh, and Elin are in bus two, and Harry and y/n are in bus three..." Jeff anxiously listed as the rest of the crew and I grabbed our bags. My head immediately looked up, and with wide eyes, I felt my heart drop. Nerves flowed through my veins, and I guess I wasn't hiding it well as I thought I was because Harry looked over and gave me a shy sympathetic smile.

I nervously followed his lead to our respected bus, but not without my hands shaking and lip between my teeth. As my feet made contact with the bus floor, I took in the space. Black slick leather coated the slim couch on the right, facing a small kitchenette and tv. Walking further, I slowly followed Harry back behind a black curtain, that I now know are to the beds. There was one on each side, with storage above for our bags.

Harry reached up to put his duffle bag in the compartment above the left bed, and then made his way over to me with a smile.

"Here," his deep voice gently said while reaching to take the bags from my hands. I quickly but gently let go once his hands met mine on the bag's handles. He lifted them into the similar compartment as he did just moments before, but above my bed.

"I'm gonna shower and head to bed, you are more than welcome to do as you please, and please don't hesitate to get me if you need something y/n/n," Harry tiredly said, seeing as it was now 11pm. I offered a small sincere small nod in appreciation.

He continued to get his bag and head towards what I am assuming is the bathroom, as I got my bag down and placed it on the mattress. I closed the dark colored curtain, took my sleeping shirt out of my duffle, and slipped it on. Realizing I still needed to take my meds, and brush my teeth, I waited for Harry to come out of the bathroom.

A short while later, after taking care of my nighttime routine, I climbed back into the bunk, shut the curtain, and laid on my back staring at the ceiling. Just thinking about the fact that Harry was across from me had my anxiety over the edge. Although I have worked with him over the last half year, and shared occasional friendly encounters, I still didn't trust him, or for lack of a better word, his intentions. Every single man in my life has betrayed me in so many different ways, each resulting in pain and hurt. I couldn't say no to this opportunity though, due to the need for money. Living in an apartment in Los Angeles was not cheap by any means, as well as every other cost that is associated with living. I have no one to fall back on if something were to come up, so being independent has been the only way for me to continue and live.

As my eyes began to drift close, I heard a slight snore a few feet over from Harry. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed my shoulders and drifted to sleep, hoping for no nightmares. Or at least none that would wake up the man across from me.

—-

It’s been about two weeks since the tour started. Saying that everything is hectic is an understatement. Crew members running around, stress etched in everyone’s faces, and the noise of thousands of fans every night has everyone feeling the effects.

Throughout this time, I’ve been writing a lot, as well as trying to find some time for myself. Sharing a space with Harry is difficult. Well, sharing a space with anyone is difficult. I can tell that Harry is increasingly worried about me due to the fact that it’s been almost 8 months and I still haven’t spoken a word out loud. I can tell he’s trying to get closer to me and warm me up. I think that’s why I’ve been slightly distancing myself from him. Getting close to people has only hurt me throughout my life, and I don’t have the capacity to take anymore pain.

During Harry’s show today, I decided to find a quiet space in the arena away from the chaos to write. Deep in my thoughts and hand beginning to cramp, I didn’t realize a figure making their way towards me.

All of a sudden, from my crouched position with my knees bent, a large calloused hand gripped one of my knees. Looking up in surprise and fear, I was met with a scruffy large older looking man, who had a smirk etched on his face.

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s go somewhere else,” the deep voice of the stranger demanded. He grabbed my elbow and tried forcing me up. I tried resisting his grip but I was far too weak to slip out of his hands. He dragged me by my arm, looked both directions in the hallway, and pulled me into a dark room. Suddenly, the light flicked on and he locked the door behind us. I realized we were in some kind of supply room. Eyes widened in fear, I tried to grab the door handle but he was quicker, and grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t even try, bitch,” he laughed mockingly. Tears started welling up in my eyes, and my body shook in fear. The man pulled a roll of duct tape from behind him off a wooden table, unraveled some, and began binding my wrists above my head. His calloused dirty hands grabbed the hem of my pants and roughly pulled them down, along with my panties. Refusing to look at him, I tried focusing on anything else in the room to distract me from the upcoming abuse.

I heard his buckle unlatch and suddenly I felt a deep stinging pressure below. Tears streamed quickly down my scared face. The hands harshly grabbed my bound wrists above me as he started to roughly thrust in me. For what felt like hours, I guess he assumed he was satisfied, so he redressed himself, ripped the duct tape off from my skin, and unlocked the storage room door, leaving me alone with the mess he made.

My body was in shock. The tears stopped minutes ago, but the strong pain and ache remains between my thighs. I slid down the white cinder block wall, curled into a ball, and stared at the wall in front of me. I’m not sure how much time had passed, but I eventually stood, and limped out of the small room. No one was in the hallways as I made my way out. I grabbed my forgotten notebook off the ground, and started making my way back to the dressing room area. Reaching the door handle of my dressing room, I opened it and closed it behind me, and walked to the couch adjacent. I sat there staring at the door in front of me. Any sounds from the outside were drowned out by the shock that took over my body.

“y/n, we are getting ready to leave,” I heard a voice say from behind the door. I couldn’t get myself to move an inch, paralyzed by fear. I’m guessing it had been a few moments since the person who called me, and the handle turned, indicating someone was coming in.

“Hey y/n/n, we are getting ready to-, y/n love, are you ok? What’s wrong?” the worried and confused voice of Harry gently asked. His footsteps grew closer, breaking me from the trance. For the first time in a while, I met his green worried eyes. Standing up, swaying slightly, I stood a few feet from the 6 foot tall Brit. Stepping forward with hesitation, and tears starting down my face again, I walked towards him, and laid the side of my cheek against his chest.

I can tell this startled and surprised him due to his tense body language. I needed comfort. Even though I wasn’t nearly fully comfortable or trusted him, I needed something or someone to ground me. Once his gentle hands met behind my back, softly embracing me, that’s when I broke. Tears rushing down my face, heart racing out of my chest, shaky legs, and I started falling to the ground. Luckily, his hold on me tightened and held me up before I fell further.

“Shh, it’s okay y/n, it’s okay love. You’re safe, you’re okay,” he spoke with sincerity laced in his voice. I couldn’t tell you how long we stayed like that, but he began guiding me out of the dressing room, down the hall to the double doors, leading out to our bus.

I don’t know if it’s the years of neglect, or lack of human contact, but I clung to Harry’s body in the bus. I couldn’t get myself to leave his side. He didn’t seem to want to let go either though. He rubbed my back and spoke comforting words to me as I clung to his torso.

“You don’t need to tell me what happened if you don’t want to, but please promise me y/n, that if you are hurting because someone hurt you, you need to let me know okay?” he said. That’s when I started sobbing again, and that answered his question.

“Shh it’s okay love. I’m right here. Let’s settle down on the couch okay?” he motioned for us to the leather couch. I think he could sense my hesitation because he assured me over and over again that it’s okay. He gently motioned for me to turn on my side. Once on my side, he asked if it was okay if he held me. Although I was petrified and scared, I still apprehensively nodded in agreement. He shifted his body so he was holding me from behind. His arms wrapped around my fragile frame.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I woke up feeling a weight around my torso. Realization settled in that Harry was spooning my fragile frame. I felt his breath tickle my neck, and I shivered slightly. He must’ve felt my movement because I heard a yawn from behind me, signaling his consciousness.

“Good morning y/n,” his deep morning voice rasped out, as he untangled our bodies. As his arm started pulling away, I unconsciously stuck out my hand and grabbed it. I needed his safety from the world. His face contorted into a surprised look, but as quickly as it came, the look of guilt settled in his features.

“I won’t leave, I promise y/n/n. I just need to use the toilet,” his quiet voice said. I hesitantly nodded, letting him go. As soon as he was gone from my sight, I felt the weight of yesterday’s encounter.

Harry’s footsteps grew louder as I heard him walk back in from the bathroom. As I slowly stood from the couch, his green eyes studied me. My body shook and his large hands were on my shoulders in seconds.

“Here, let’s sit back down, yeah?” he said as a response to my body’s motion. I nodded solemnly and sat.

“I’m not sure what happened yesterday, but I need you to know, y/n, that I’m here. I’ll listen. I’ll do whatever you need me to do okay?” his voice sounded as he sat next to me. Taking a deep breath, I nodded, gently looking up into his green eyes.

….

It’s been a few weeks since the incident, and over that time, I’ve gotten much closer to Harry. Although I can definitely tell he is worried about me and what happened that night, he has since left the decision up to me on when I’ll tell him, or someone, what happened.

During down time, I’ve been writing different lyrics and melody ideas down in my journal. I have completed a song called Matilda, and another called Fine Line. Lyrically, I feel very strong about them, though I'm not sure if the tempo will be too sad for Harry’s type of music. I’m planning on bringing my ideas to Mitch sometime, and hoping he can play around with some instrumental ideas for them.

Besides Harry, I’ve been very jumpy when a male comes into the room that I don’t know. To be fair, I already was due to childhood trauma, but now it’s way more apparent. Harry gives me a look each time he sees the way my body involuntarily flinches, but chooses not to say anything about it, to which I’m very thankful for.

Each night since he held me on the bus couch, he’s let me in his bunker to sleep. Having the weight of his arm allows me the safety I need. When I’m about to fall asleep, he softly kisses the back of my head, and secures his tattooed arm around my torso.

Right now, we are on our way to the next tour stop. Harry is sitting with headphones on, watching some movie on his phone, while I’m adjacent on a seat watching out the massive bus windows. It’s been almost a year since meeting Harry, and at no point has he given me a doubt about his intentions and personality.

See, my last relationship ended up with bruises littering my body, cuts along my skin, and fear etched in my mind. He would throw me against walls, yelling at me for literally anything. He drank and drank until bottles scattered the floor, leaving me to clean up the mess. He would use my body for his own enjoyment and pleasure. I would be left sore for days, all for him to do it repeatedly. One day, on his way home from work, he was involved in an accident, which killed him on impact. As awful as it is to say, relief flooded me when the news broke. His older brother took the house, leaving me with absolutely nothing. I worked odd jobs while having to live with my abusive father. He would smash things against my head, and would lock me in a bedroom for hours on end, without food or water. That lasted for a few months before I had saved up enough money for an apartment. That’s when I began creating on the website where Alex had discovered me.

Fast forward to now, I have come to realize something. I’m developing feelings for Harry. It’s absolutely terrifying to me. Butterflies erupt in my fragile chest when his eyes rarely capture mine, or when the warmth of his hand lingers on me for comfort. His once intimidating aura is now replaced by a sense of safety. When approaching new males, whether it’s at a stop or another venue, he always somehow uses his body to gently shield them from my own.

Shifting his body, my attention focused back on the man behind me. The headphones were off his head, and his phone was placed beside him on the couch. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know that our stop is coming up,” his tired, raspy voice rang out softly. I nodded, making a small amount of eye contact, and mouthed ‘thank you.’ His pink lips turned up into a small grin and proceeded to watch out the window behind the couch.

Once the bus came to a halt, Harry and I stood from our respected areas, and made our way out. Following him into the arena, the sense of dread engulfed my body. Since that night, being without Harry by my side has caused anxiety to bubble inside me. He has insisted I stay in his dressing room during the entirety of the show, for my safety and his peace of mind. I wasn’t going to argue or debate that.

After hours of writing when the bands on stage, they finally run off stage and enter their dressing rooms. Hearing a soft gentle knock on the door, Harry slowly appeared and came in. With a wide smile and adrenaline rush, he walked over to me.

Suddenly, I felt his arms wrap around me gently.

“Hey y/n/n,” he whispered exhausted in my ear. I slowly brought my arms gently around his torso, reciprocating his action. I felt him smile in my hair. I could tell he is exhausted, mentally and physically, from the demanding performances he puts on. I’m not sure how long we stayed engulfed in each other, but he slowly lets me go, and steps back.

“I'm sorry, I just really missed you,” he shyly spoke, blushing slightly. I looked up to him in confusion, seeing as I had seen him a few hours ago. Sensing my confusion, he proceeds to explain himself.

“I just, I don’t know, I love spending time with you y/n,” his shy, sincere voice sounded as he proceeded to take off his outfit, opting for something comfortable. A smile graced my now rosy face. A comfortable silence fell over the small dressing room as he dressed, and as I gathered my notebook.

We walked in silence, Harry in front of me, to our designated bus. As we got in, I tapped Harry on his shoulder softly. He turned around, eyebrows raised in question and lips parted to ask a question, but I cut him off before he had the chance. I hugged him, tight, needing to feel his warmth. Startled a little bit, I felt his arms wrap around me, even tighter. It seemed like we both needed each other’s comfort tonight, and an unconscious agreement to not talk about it.

——

Today marks six months since the tour began. It also marks three months since I’ve realized that I have grown feelings for the pop star.

Tonight is a rough night. Harry woke up with a cold, making his throat sore. He of course powered through the show, however, as soon as he entered the dressing room, I could tell something was really off. His eyes briefly met mine, and when the door shut behind him, he began undressing himself with a slight hint of frustration in his movements. I stood up, and followed behind him to the bus after he changed.

Upon entering our bus, he sat on the couch with his face in his hands. I heard sniffing and could see that he was very distraught. I’d never seen Harry like this before and I didn’t know the reason behind this reaction. Cautiously, I slowly walked and sat next to him on the couch. Sensing my movement, he placed his hands from his face, down on his lap, but kept his head lowered.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this y/n/n, I’m just so disappointed you know? I didn’t give them my best tonight and they paid and traveled to see me, and I feel like I disappointed everyone, fuck” he whispered at the end. I hated seeing him like this, he pushes himself so hard, too hard.

Despite the hesitation and voices screaming at me in my head to not do this, I softly laid my hand on top of his on his lap. His body tensed for only a moment, but his other hand raised slowly and settled atop mine. I heard a deep breath sound from his lungs as his body visibly relaxed. It took everything in me to not get up a run to my bunk, but I could tell he needed me. I needed him.

By the end of the long draining night, we settled on the couch. His muscular tattooed body behind mine, with our body heat engulfing one another. Thoughts raced through my mind, as I danced around the pros and cons of continuing getting closer to Harry. Throughout this competition in my brain, I must’ve fallen asleep due to the sun now shining through the bus windows.

I slipped away from the couch, and walked quietly to the shared bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I came to a realization. I’ve never felt more safe in my life than I do with Harry. And that realization is fucking terrifying.

——

Weeks later, I found myself cuddled against the British man once again. There was definitely growing tension between us as we started sharing more intimate moments together, like this. I began to take notice of his lingering stares on me, his delicate but affectionate touches, and the warmth we both seemed to feel with one another.

We were watching a movie on the small bus tv, and my head laid on his shoulder. Suddenly, his body slowly moved, making me lift my head off his shoulder. His facial expression clearly held anxiety, and sensing my confusion, his voice began.

“y/n, love, I need to get something off my chest,” his anxious yet cautious voice said as his body turned to face me. Anxiety started to fill my veins, thinking of every worst scenario that could play out. Before my thoughts could go any further, the deep British voice carried out once again.

“Fuck it, I’m just gonna say it. I have feelings for you y/n. I have for a while, and I know that’s wrong because we work together but I can’t not say anything anymore. I know you don’t feel the same, which is absolutely okay love, I-” his voice rambled with nerves and worry, but I gently grabbed his face with my hands on his cheeks, interrupting his little speech. Taking a deep breath, I leaned in, so our faces were merely inches apart. Our eyes met, and he began to close the small gap between our lips. My hands fell from his face as his rose to mine. As our lips touched, every ounce of worry and anxiety melted away. Our lips moved in sync with so much longing interlaced. He gently pulled away, and rested his forehead against mine, with a wide smile gracing his now slightly swollen pink lips.

“Well, that was a great way to get me to shut up,” he chuckled against my face. A small giggle escaped my lips as our eyes met.

For the rest of the night, we stayed cuddled up on our usual couch, just holding each other until we fell asleep.

——

Over the following weeks, the band noticed our new found chemistry with each other and eventually figured it out. They all congratulated us, and were so excited.

Nothing has really changed between us, besides the stolen kisses and hand holding. However, I felt myself beginning to want more. I trusted Harry so much, which is crazy to say given my past. In his dressing room during the shows, I have been practicing using my voice. Since it’s been so long since I last spoke a word, it has been proven difficult, but I am determined to start again.

Tonight, everyone was staying in a hotel instead of our buses due to bad weather. It was safer inside there than the buses, which I think everyone was actually happy about considering we haven’t had an actual bed in months.

With our hands intertwined, Harry got our room key and led us to our suite. As we stepped inside, I heard a quiet “shit” escape Harry’s mouth. There was one bed laying in the middle of the room.

“I’m so sorry y/n/n, I was told there were two beds, let me go see if there’s another room with two,” his distressed voice said as he was about to leave the room. I gently grabbed his arm, momentarily making him stop in his tracks. I looked at him and shook my head. I mouthed ‘it’s okay” with a small smile on my lips.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind going down-” I cut his rambling off with a small quick kiss to his lips.

We set our bags on the ground, and Harry turned around to put the tv on. As he did, I got my pajamas, really his shirt and boxers that I stole, and I headed to the bathroom. After showering, I dressed myself and finished getting ready for the night. As I stepped out, our eyes met. This was the first time he’s really seen me like this. A blush crept onto his cheeks as he stared at my body. He quickly looked back down to his phone, and pulled the duvet up higher on his body. A little shy smile came over my features realizing how cute he was when he was flustered.

Pulling my side of the sheets down, I climbed into bed, next to him. I could tell he was a little tense, and I was about to type on my phone to ask him what was wrong, however, as he bent down to grab his fallen charger off the nightstand, the duvet fell down slightly, revealing Harry’s problem. My eyes grew wide as I quickly looked back to the playing tv. A blush rose to my cheeks as he settled in back next to me. As time went on, he grew antsy and couldn’t stay still. He looked uncomfortable and I could tell he was trying really hard to keep it together.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick,” he quickly said as he tried to conceal the tent under his shorts, before trying to stand. I do appreciate him trying to not make me uncomfortable, but little did he know, I wanted him. As he was about to stand and swing his long legs off the side of the bed, I grabbed his wrist.

Our eyes met, his embarrassed but mine full of love. I held my hand up to stop him, as I made my way out of the bed, walking over to his side. I stood between his short-covered legs as he looked up at me in question.

“It’s really okay, I’m sorry, I was gonna go sort this, uh, out,” his flustered voice said as he was attempting to stand back up. I shook my head and placed my hand on his arm, to let him know it’s okay.

I nervously leaned down to kiss him. His lips pushed back against mine but I could feel his hesitation to keep going.

“Are you sure, love?” his deep raspy voice whimpered with hesitation and lust. I nodded reassuringly and brought my lips back to his.

I reached to pull his shirt over his head but his hands pressed on my shoulders to stop me. Before I could do anything else, he said, “let me y/n, I want tonight to be about you, don’t worry about me, I promise.” I simply nodded in agreement but not without nerves shining through my brown eyes. Standing up, he switched our position so I sat on the bed and he stood above me.

“Lay back for me love, I want to make you feel good, yeah?” he whispered with lust filled eyes. Following his words, I moved back on the bed, and shifted my body so my head was on his pillow. He moved to the end of the bed and got on his knees by my feet. He tapped my leg for me to open my legs a little wider to allow him to come closer.

With his request, I moved my legs to the side, and he moved forward.

“Are you positive about this love? We don’t need to do anything. We can stop anytime, just push me away or pinch me,” he spoke sincerely. I nodded with a smile and reached for him. I gripped the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it. He helped me and threw it off his torso somewhere in the room. Tattoos littered his skin and heat radiated off. His eyes met mine for consent to take mine off. I nodded with a shy grin and he proceeded to gently peel mine off. Left in a bra and his boxers, I moved my arms to wrap around myself.

“y/n, love, you are so beautiful, no need to hide my love,” he spoke as he gently moved my arms away from my stomach, to my sides. With his arms on either side of my face, he met my lips with his own. Our tongues danced together as my hands went through his soft curls. A small groan ripped through his chest as I tugged more.

“Can I?” He asked as he kissed down from my lips to my chest, in question to remove my upper garment. With slight nerves, I nodded. With my consent, he tapped my torso for me to arch my back, to allow him access to unclasp my bra. Swiftly, the garment was dropped beside the bed, now leaving me even more vulnerable.

Before I could even think about shielding myself, his lips came down to peck over my exposed chest. He whispered “beautiful” every time he came up for air. His mouth hovered for a second before landing down on my nipple. With a deep breath let out, I felt myself getting hot. He gently sucked one while softly kneading the other with his large hand. My hands gripped his hair tighter in pleasure as his tongue swirled the swollen nub. He alternated between both for a few minutes, until I gently pulled him up. His face was visibly flushed and I could feel the warmth coming from his body down below.

I stared into his green eyes, silently pleading for more. Understanding, he nodded and grinned in silent acknowledgement. His hands found their way to the last piece of clothing on my body. His fingers hooked around the sides, gently pulling them down, away from my body. There I laid, bare, in front of a man. This was the first time that someone cared about my comfort and pleasure. Harry took his time admiring every inch of my body. As his eyes landed on my exposed thighs, his expression faltered for a moment. I knew what he saw. Old scars of the abuse I endured littered the soft skin. Although his gaze lingered, there was not one trace of disgust or anything but love that filled his orbs. Instead, he bent down and kissed from my lips, down to my thighs.

“Is this okay? Are you comfortable y/n/n?” he questioned. I nodded and encouraged him to continue. With my approval, he brought his hand lower. Despite the anxiety of the situation, I felt safe in his hands.

Once his index finger slipped below, a quiet moan slipped from my lips. A grin appeared on his face as he felt my arousal. Using my arousal, he gently glided his finger through my folds. He began to rub my clit with precision and a softness in his touch, as he captured my lips once again. He knew the weight of the situation and how much this was affecting me. Disconnecting our swollen lips, he silently asks for permission. I graciously nodded, and I felt the tip of his finger nudge my opening. Taking a deep breath, I felt him begin to slide in a little deeper. Stilling his finger, he let me adjust. I leaned up to kiss him, and he took the hint to go forward. He slowly curled his finger inside me. A moan escaped my lips and I quickly put my hand over my mouth in embarrassment.

“Hey, no, none of that love, let me hear you, yeah? It’s okay, I got you,” he whispered. He started going a little faster inside me and my body began to tremble. With my eyes rolling back, he whispered little words of encouragement as he slipped another finger beside the one already in me. I felt a little burn, but it was quickly replaced by even more pleasure. He pumped them in and out, curling them up as he went all the way in. I felt a deep burn in my stomach, indicating my orgasm was quickly approaching. I reached down for his hand, and he immediately stopped. I mouthed ‘I want you,’ and his eyes turned an even darker shade of green.

“You are positive love? We don’t have to, I promise,” he said in reassurance. I shook my head with a smile and reached for the hem of his boxers. He helped me out and took them off his toned body. His red leaking cock bounced up to his stomach. Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the sight. He climbed off the bed quickly, and went to his bag. Grabbing what I was assuming was a condom, he got back in between my legs.

“Alright, shit, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. This may hurt or burn a bit, Love, but just squeeze my hand yeah?” I nodded and as he rolled the latex on, I leaned up to capture his lips. His hands went to my breasts and my head was laid gently on the pillow below. He grabbed hold of his cock, and brought it up to my pussy. Gently sliding his tip through my folds, he teased my clit a little. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he guided his tip to my entrance. I grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his face to mine. As he slipped his tongue in my mouth, he pushed a little further in. Closing my eyes, my heart began to race. Feeling the unsteady beating of my chest, Harry brought up his face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay my love, you’re safe, open your eyes, it’s me, Harry,” his soft delicate voice spoke. Upon opening my eyes, a sense of security fell over me and I felt safe again. He peppered kisses over my face and he agonizingly pushed in a little bit more. A whimper escaped my throat, and before he could say anything, I brought my hand to his back, and pushed his lower body closer to mine, resulting in him bottoming out. I moved my hand to hold his tightly as a burn fell over my bottom half. Taking everything in him, he stilled inside me, letting me adjust, not only physically, but mentally too.

We stayed in this position for a few minutes, and during this time, I fought the internal battle in my mind. Part of me wanted to tell him I loved him while the other half was scared and not to, cause then it would be real.

I lifted his head from my shoulder, and looked into his eyes. Opening my mouth, after years and years of not speaking, my voice began to sound from my chest.

“I love you,” I whispered. Frozen. That’s what Harry was. Frozen. He stared at me with wide surprised eyes as he was processing the fact that I spoke.

“Oh my god,” he finally whispered with tears glazing his eyes and the biggest smile I’ve seen.

“You… oh my god, I love you so much, so so much,” he whimpered into my hair. Shifting my hips up, he got the hint to begin moving. As he thrusted slowly but deeply, my nails scratched his back. He wouldn’t stop whispering how proud of me he was and how much he loved me.

“I'm close,” I said after a few minutes.

“Me too, my love,” he responded after a second to catch his breath. I could tell he was holding back for my sake. Every single moment of the time I have spent with him, has been nothing but love. His thrusts began to pick up a little, and before I knew it, pleasure rippled throughout my body. My orgasm came over me as harrys did for him. His sheen glowy body stilled as he came down from his high inside me. As he was about to pull out, I stopped him and placed my hand on his hip.

“Please stay,” I whispered pleadingly. Nodding, he positioned us so we were chest to chest on our sides. I felt him growing soft inside me, but feeling him close, after being alone and scared for so long, was needed. With my head in his chest, under his chin, he soothed my skin delicately by rubbing over it. With the post-orgasm rush, our bodies were exhausted. With a final kiss to my hair, he whispered “I love you, my beautiful sunflower.” Before I could question the new nickname, his breathing shallowed out, indicating his now sleeping body.

I can finally say that I am safe. I am loved. I am comforted. And I am in love with Harry Styles.

The End….

#angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles

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multifandomgirl08 · 1 year ago

Text

Through Max's Eyes [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Format: Social Media

Summary: Max's Instagram posts about Y/N, and a small life update from the couple.

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

maxverstappen1

Liked by lewishamilton and 387,549 others

tagged: ynlnusername

maxverstappen1 This is my girlfriend Y/N who had to stay up until 3 a.m. to finish up a release for work.

Not only does she have to manage my schedule and Nico's, but she also has a time consuming job. I took her and Nico out for lunch today as a thank you for all of the things she takes care of when I'm not home.

You keep the apartment clean, take my son to school, and at the same time work a full-time job. I don't know how you do it my love...

ynlnusername You won't even give yourself credit for taking those photos? Max!

maxverstappen1 It's International Women's Day. I'm letting you have all of the spotlight.

yourbestfriend We love a girl boss moment

fan45 How do I get a Y/N?

fan26 He is simping so hard on main.

March 8, 2024

ynlnusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 441,858 others

ynlnusername First vacation since I moved to Monaco. Also first vacation with the boyfriend. We'll see how it plays out.

📸: maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 Plays out? You live with me. You help me pay the bills.

landonorris Is Y/N sleeping on the couch until further notice?

yourbestfriend No, mostly because my girl is an expert at crisis management, or did you forget?

maxverstappen1 How can I, when there is a three year old living with us. Lol

fan86 I love that Y/N brings out the silly side in Max. It really makes you understand that he is so much more than a f1 driver.

fan96 I feel like Max had a secret .jpg account and it's just photos of Y/N and Nico.

July 30, 2024

verstappen1.jpg

Liked by danielricciardo, ynlnusername and 134, 757 others

tagged: ynlnusername

verstappen1.jpg Starting off the summer break right

danielricciardo Since when did you start posting thirst traps of your girlfriend?

landonorris My eyes! How dare you sir! 🫣

ynlnusername Lando, you've seen worse. Remember Barcelona. landonorris Why do you have to bring that up? I told you it was an accident. maxverstappen1 Doesn't mean that we believe you.

fan87 What is Lando talking about? Did Lando walk into Max's motorhome without knocking or something?

fan38 OMG! Max had one of these too? Following right now!

fan96 I was right! Called it!!

August 1, 2024

maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 538,735 others

tagged: ynlnusername

maxverstappen1 I could say something cheesy like you are P1 in my heart. But instead I think I just need to tell you how much I love you, and I love that you've welcomed me and my son into your life with open arms.

Thank you for everything that you do. Going to races, cheering me on and making my hectic schedule work so that we can spend time together as a family.

I know that Nico already sees you as his mother. I couldn't ask for a better mother for my son then you.

I love you, soon to be Mrs. Verstappen.

View all 865 comments

danielricciardo Happy for you mate. @ynlnusername he spent over an hour picking out that ring, wear it with pride.

landonorris Official mom of the paddock, I'm calling it.

fan28 How is Max who is two years younger than Pierre now engaged and Pierre still only has a girlfriend?

August 15, 2024

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #social media au #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au

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annabelle--cane · 1 year ago

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it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

#prompted by Absolutely nothing #tma #marina marvels at life

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glow-worms-are-believers · 8 months ago

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Heya so this is Damian's pov in the chapter 16 of my fic Hostage situations and other romantic activities based on @iguessthisisanewobsession's prompt! I had it written out and though it doesn't fit in with the main storyline, I figured I'd post it here and link it in case anyone was curious. Feel free to ignore this if you haven't read the fic <3

Hope you guys enjoy:) (Spoilers ahead)

Damian’s head hurt. Zsasz had managed to get in a good hit before Damian had managed to knock him out, or at least what he thought had been a knock-out. He’d been sloppy and now the teen’s head was throbbing. At least, he had seen no injuries on Danny though the other boy had been very pale and looked unwell.

That was another thing. Danny.

Gotham wasn’t a safe place for civilians, and metas had it even worse. That was true everywhere but in Gotham even more so; discrimination, increased risk of violence, even human experimentation.

It wasn’t surprising that Danny would want to keep his abilities a secret. But something about the blast, how despite clearly having been instinct, the shot had been so very precise that Damian who had been pinned under Zsasz hadn’t felt more than a cold blast of wind made it seem as if there was more to it than that.

And right now, as he was perched up in the tree waiting for law enforcement, there was nothing to do but to speculate.

No, that was untrue, he thought as he took his phone out of his pocket. He could do more than that.

He could research. And so he did.

And found nothing.

Oh sure, there was a blurry picture here, an oblique mention there but no proof of existence beyond a social security number, a high school diploma, and one measly article.

No birth certificate, no social media, no medical file, not even a driver’s license.

It wasn’t that Danny Fenton was a ghost. It was more like he was a half-finished person.

Damian breathed out slowly.

It wasn’t Danny’s powers that made him suspicious. It was everything else.

An hour later, Damian slid down into the now dark forest and started walking.

Damian looked up to see Danny coming down carefully. Damian steeled his expression into a neutral one, unwilling to let his thoughts play on his face.

“Daniel,” Damian started formally. “You went back to the school.”

That was a point in the boy’s favour; at least, he had not ran.

“Yeah,” Danny answered, too casually. “thanks again for saving my butt back there.”

Damian nodded, but abstained from saying anything further in favour of studying Danny’s expression. He didn’t seem any different but Damian knew appearances could be deceiving.

“So-“ Danny started but Damian wasn’t interested in small talk.

“I could not find a picture of you before your fourteenth birthday,” Damian stated clearly.

“Uh,” Danny stumbled. “Ok?”

“Nor could I find a birth certificate in your name.” Damian continued expecting a twitch, a frown, something.

“Yeah,” Danny answered calmly, waving. “Mom and Dad are terrible at paperwork.”

Alright. If that was how Danny would play it. Flimsy excuses could only go so far.

“No social media, no bank account. Not even a tax return in twenty years.”

“IRS have given up long before I was born,” Danny answered airily. “And Amity’s not the safest place for technology.”

Damian studied the boy in front of him. He looked relaxed and mostly at ease. A bit confused, a bit tired if anything. And Damian wanted to believe it.

Yet, both his instinct and his experience were telling him not to, and so Damian forged on.

“Why did you come to Gotham?” Damian asked.

“What?” Danny answered, once again frowning in confusion. “Uh, I’m here for school? I think I told you that.”

This was getting insulting.

“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, feeling something brewing.

“I’m not,” Daniel persisted in a stupid simplistic excuse. “I’m really here for school.”

Damian clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes peeled on the deceptive face in front of him. Damian had come for the truth and he was going to get it.

“You truly had me fooled,” Damian stated as he slowly started to circle the other teen. “I did not suspect you for a moment.”

“What are you even talking about?” Danny said, but Damian wasn’t listening to more lies.

“Why did you approach me?” Damian asked asking from Danny’s side. Because that was the most logical explanation, no matter what Damian wanted to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time mother or another one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him. He had to consider the possibility. Danny turned to keep himself facing Damian.

“I didn’t,” Danny stressed, his voice almost snarling. Good. More likely to let something slip.

“Maybe so, but you did not turn down the opportunity to do so either.” Damian allowed, because it truly would’ve been a convoluted plan to manipulate Damian into choosing Danny.

“What,” Danny’s voice biting. “Like you left me any choice?”

Damian stopped short at that. He knew he could be forceful and overbearing but he would never force anyone to do anything like that. He was nothing like her.

“Damian,” Danny’s voice rose again, kinder, softer. “Im not sure what this is, and we can talk about it, I-”.

No. This wouldn’t work. Damian wouldn’t let himself be pacified like a child. “You have deceived me,” Damian reminded himself and Danny

“I haven’t,” Danny protested but Damian wasn't listening.

“You are not who you say you are.” That was the truth. And no matter what he said, Daniel knew it too.

“Yes, I am,” Danny refuted strongly and Damian had had enough. There was one thing Daniel could no longer lie about.

“Are you?” Damian asked clearly. “Tell me Danny, are you human?”

Danny flinched and Damian’s heart sank even as it confirmed what Damian already knew.

“That’s what I thought,” said Damian, more calmly than he felt.

“What does that mean?” Danny asked, still trying to pretend but Damian wouldn’t let him.

“It means, I am ashamed I let you get so close.”

It means I know, Damian thought. It mean there’s no use pretending. It means, please do not try.

There was a moment of silence where Damian held his breath. For Danny to finally give it up and admit it.

Daniel took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. And Damian held himself straighter. Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again.

And then finally-

“Please leave,” Danny’s voice came and what was left of Damian’s hope froze over.

So this was it then.

“Fine,” Damain said dispassionately. “I’ll send you the severance pay before the end of the week.”

“I don’t want it,” Daniel bit out and Damian could feel something ugly within him rear its head, and Damian let it take the place of the coldness.

“Waynes believe in tying up loose ends,” Damian said silkily. “It does not do to for past indiscretions crop up at importunate times.”

“Ok no. I’m done with this.” Danny stalked off, and it welled up again, poisonous and mean.

“I would be happy to give a recommendation to any new employer of yours,” Damian shouted.

He knew he was supposed to be better than this, but he couldn’t help it.

“Screw you!” Danny yelled back and Damian snarled, stopping himself from punching at a tree or something equally stupid and emotional.

Whatever. He turned away and started walking.

It wasn’t like it had been a real relationship. It wasn’t like it had meant anything. Damian started running.

It had done what it was supposed to do, and really, Damian had gotten out of it exactly what he wanted.

The thought did nothing to appease the empty feeling in his chest as he made his way back home.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #Might be too soon but I just gotta say that the progression from fake lovers to bitter exes is extremely funny to me #roxpox #roxpoxwrote

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vrajitosarehaos · 1 month ago

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Healed (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

summary: you finally come out of an emotional sadness and decide to go out with Bucky to dinner, without thinking about who you would end up running into.

words: 3219

A/N: My other blog where I published my one-shots (thewxtchwhowrites) was deleted out of nowhere without explanation, so now I upload it here on the main one. Enjoy 💖

You were carefully walking down the stairs and your heels started making noise as they hit the steps, causing Bucky and Steve who were talking near the door to turn to look at you.

Bucky looked nervous, and it was no wonder, the truth is that he had not been on a date in more than 70 or 80 years, with everything that had happened in his life these last few years since the 40s.

Steve seemed to calm him down, when the blond turned to look at you he had a smile on his lips, he looked like a proud older brother.

As you walked down the stairs you wondered how you had really gotten to this day, and the truth is that the whole series of events had been very convoluted and fun...

Or at least now that you were feeling better.

You had been depressed for a couple of months and it was because your boyfriend with whom you had been in a relationship for five years had broken up with you overnight with a simple message:

"I can't keep doing this, forgive me."

Your eyes began to fill with tears as you continued reading as best you could:

"I owe you what I am today. And it hurts me to tell you this, I don't know, I feel like I'm really screwing up by leaving all these years behind." Your tears no longer let you see, your vision was blurred. "But I want to make that decision and continue alone from now on. Maybe we can be friends in the future."

Bastard. You thought to yourself, it was obvious that there was something strange about his behavior after you both had your last movie date, but you decided not to listen to your intuition even though Natasha had warned you.

"I don't know, honey, I think you should be prepared…" Natasha sat on your bed and sighed, taking one of your pillows in her hands, and noticing one of the photographs you had on your wall where you and your now ex-boyfriend ex-boyfriend, were at a Coney Island fair with ice cream on your faces.

"But Nat…" You said while shaking your head. You were delusional, without a doubt. "We've been together for five years, I don't think we'll break up. He's just a little stressed because his business isn't going well."

There were times when your ex-boyfriend would disappear for weeks, claiming that he was busy working or trying to run his business (a music store that his grandfather had owned for many years) and sometimes when you logged on to social media after work, you would notice that he was still online sharing posts or tweeting, although he didn't respond to your chat.

Sometimes he'd leave you on 'read' or sometimes he just wouldn't seem to open the chat, which was… strange.

Until it happened.

Even the final message of that long paragraph of excuses had a rather late apology that said:

"I'm very sorry, not only for the moment in which I'm telling you all this. But also for what I've put you through and how I treated you, not speaking to you for weeks and then coming to you to write all this shit."

That last message definitely led to long hours of crying, especially at night in your room at the Avenger Compound, not wanting to leave your room, maybe just to eat with everyone or for missions, and then return to your room.

You were even more temperamental during missions, you hit harder, and you were even more reckless, which Bucky noticed immediately, he knew that attitude and hatred.

The first thing Nat, Wanda, and Maria Hill did when they found out was brought you ice cream and have a girls' night out, which ended relatively well, at least until Wanda put on a movie and the guy's name was your ex's.

A couple of nights later you heard a soft knock on your door, you were crying as quietly as you could, and you thought that maybe you had woken up Steve or Nat who were sleeping in the adjoining rooms, when you got up and opened the door, it was Bucky.

"Bucky?" You asked with some confusion.

"I… I brought you this." Bucky took a cookie out of his pants pocket, when you took it you could feel that it was broken. "I accidentally sat on the cookie while I was on my way here on the motorcycle, sorry."

That, even if it was something simple, made you laugh, and maybe it was the first time in five fucking months that you laughed sincerely and not in a forced way.

Bucky after you thanked him, he nodded softly with a shy smile on his lips and left saying goodnight.

You look at Bucky's face as a smile began to form on his lips as you walked down the stairs, it seemed like he saw the most beautiful thing on the planet and he even had a small bouquet of flowers for you in his hands.

As soon as you finished walking down the stairs, Bucky approached you at the bottom of them.

"You look…" Bucky started to say, but stayed silent.

"Do I look too dressed up? Is too much?" You said nervously, touching your hair and ironing your dress with your hands at the level of your stomach, it had been Nat and Wanda's idea to groom you as if you were a little doll even though you weren't totally used to it.

“No, you look like an angel…” Bucky interrupted you. He continued to look at you with those blue eyes, it was a kind, sweet look. You felt your cheeks redden and you let out a nervous laugh.

Steve raised his eyebrows at such a compliment, and since you had your back to Steve, he took the opportunity to give Bucky a thumbs up.

"Oh, this is for you." Bucky gave you the small bouquet of flowers that you took carefully, they smelled delicious.

“James, you didn't have to do it." you said in a whisper, looking between the flowers and Bucky.

You didn't remember that a man had ever given you flowers before, your ex in itself was not a person to give you that type of details and you, sometimes, didn't allow yourself to receive them either.

But for some reason with Bucky, the fact that he gave you those details, it felt different.

“It's true.” He put his hands in the pocket of his black pants, nodding at your comment. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to do it."

That comment caught your attention.

Steve patted both of you gently like a father and opened the door to the compound, smiling.

"Have fun…" Steve looked at you and nodded his approval as if you were his little sister. "But not too much."

Steve looked at Bucky when he said that last sentence, that was definitely a warning to him, Bucky just shrugged and let you take his arm as they walked to the motorcycle to Izzy's.

Honestly, you don't know how it happened, but it happened.

You began to spend more time with Bucky as the days and even weeks went by, first he asked you for help to play a prank on Sam by painting Nightwing as if it were a stingray and recording it to show in the group chat that you all shared.

Then you would help him with technological issues or you would end up sitting in the compound's cinema watching old movies while you listened to him tell you things about how things were in those times.

And maybe some embarrassing stories about Steve.

You discovered that he was chivalrous, opening the door for you and even letting you in first by placing either of his two hands just under your back in a protective manner. Even when you had to take something somewhere he offered himself, not allowing you to do it.

Including the bowl of popcorn, because he didn't want you to get burned.

You thought that sometimes Bucky was an exaggerator, but you began to notice that he did things that even your ex-boyfriend had stopped doing after being together for a while.

When you and Bucky went out on the street, he always offered you his right arm, since he felt a little insecure offering you his left arm, the mechanical one. However, that insecurity started to disappear and then he didn't care which arm you grabbed as long as you held his arm when you walked.

The times when neither of you could sleep and you stayed talking, whether in your bed or his, he didn't fall asleep while you were talking about those topics that you were both passionate about, nor did he change the subject, he just watched you with attention.

Bucky even remembered the things you had said to him a couple of months or weeks ago and that you didn't even remember what you had said to him.

You were healing little by little, starting to be you again.

And somehow he was healing too.

If you were at one of Tony's parties or maybe at a mission meeting, sometimes you would look at Bucky when he wasn't looking at you, and the other way around would also happen, and if you caught each other looking, both would just smile like a couple of fools and look away.

One night you heard a soft knock on your door, you recognized that soft knock, when you opened your door it was Bucky again, but he looked different tonight.

"Hi..." Bucky said slowly, seeming a little nervous, his right hand resting on the frame of your door, trying to look casual. "I wanted to invite you to dinner, well, it's not really a dinner."

You could notice and see Bucky's nervousness when trying to say things as he had (probably) rehearsed them in front of the bathroom mirror and he added:

"Or yes, maybe it is, I don't know."

You interrupted his rambling with a smile on your lips, gently raising a hand to the level of your chest.

"Yes..." That's what you said, you noticed how his eyes softened at the fact that you had agreed. "Yes, I'd like to go."

He nodded repeatedly and sighed in relief, letting out a soft chuckle.

"So Friday at eight sounds good to you?" Bucky was clearing his throat, trying to hide his excitement that you had accepted dinner, you nodded. "Okay, I'll see you on Friday."

Bucky quickly kissed your cheek, wished you goodnight, and left without stopping smiling like a fool.

When you two arrived at Izzy's, Bucky greeted Leah with a smile, she seemed surprised but happy that she now finally saw him with someone other than Mr. Nakajima, especially seeing you walk in with him.

You and Bucky sat at one of the tables and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you, but you weren't sure after all there were more people than usual today, it was Friday.

After a couple of laughs, drinks, Asian food and bad jokes, a few caresses on your hand from his you noticed out of the corner of your eye that someone was approaching the table and you swore it was a waiter.

But it was your ex.

“Y/N…” Your ex said in a firm voice, looking from Bucky reluctantly and then back to you. "What are you doing here with him?"

The audacity of this idiot. You thought as you heard those words come out of your ex's mouth.

"The real question is, what are YOU doing here?" You responded rudely as a frown began to form on your forehead.

"So you're the… man who broke her heart." Bucky told him in a calm voice, but he was really trying to stop himself from smashing your ex-boyfriend's face into the pretty little sushi boat that was on the table, because he didn't want to ruin your night.

Bucky slowly stood up from the chair, making your ex jump a little, maybe he was nervous with Bucky's presence.

And the truth is he should be nervous.

Bucky was quite tall, strong and even if he didn't have a vibranium left arm, he would have enough strength to change your ex-boyfriend's health status to deceased if he tried to go far with you.

And on top of that he had to avoid at all costs breaking the second rule that he had agreed upon with Dr. Raynor in therapy: No one gets hurt.

Your ex scrunched his face in disapproval at Bucky's words, not believing what he was hearing, but now you understood many things, you had been receiving notifications on social networks, especially from Instagram indicating that your ex occasionally looked at the stories you published.

Part of you didn't understand why you continued to have him on Instagram, perhaps because you used that social network very little, but whatever, now you understood what your ex was doing there.

"What? N-No, I was confused…" Your ex started to speak, he even tried to get a little closer to you, but he couldn't since Bucky gently moved his left arm that was covered by a glove. "Now my mind is more than clear and I want us to go back Y/N."

Bucky tried to talk to him by placing his right hand on his shoulder.

"Look, son…" But your ex just moved, removing Bucky's hand from his shoulder.

"Don't call me son, we are the same age, pal." Your ex responded aggressively, while rolling his eyes, looking back at you.

Very few knew that Bucky was actually 106 years old, which if you had been in another situation you would have found it funny.

"Look, I don't know what you've been through in these eight or nine months, but she and I are together, and she's not interested in getting back with you or anyone else." Bucky spoke in a fairly firm tone of voice, being respectful.

You began to feel anxious, you felt your stomach turn not only from nervousness, but from the embarrassment you were experiencing in the establishment, many of the people at the adjacent tables were looking towards you.

"Are you really going to throw away all these years together with me, by being with him?" Your ex-boyfriend spoke softly, as if he was trying to manipulate you. "Y/N? I know you haven't forgotten me, you still love me, I know that."

You looked between both men, there was some doubt in your eyes or that's what Bucky thought he saw in you, maybe it was embarrassment.

You got up from your seat and enter the bathroom of the place with tears in your eyes, on many occasions you had dreamed of something similar, dreams that ended in nightmares that you tried to ignore some nights, many ended with your ex calling you different things like 'bitch', 'whore' or 'ungrateful witch' while throwing things at you or shaking you.

You ended up waking up drenched in sweat many nights, breathing heavily and then crying silently until sleep overcame you, although those tears and nightmares ended up being silenced by Bucky on more than one occasion while he slept next to you, stroking your hair or hugging you in his arms.

You had entered the bathroom and locked yourself inside one of the stalls, you were hyperventilating, you didn't think the wound would reopen again, you really thought you were over that, you didn't know how much time had passed, you were just sitting on the toilet seat with tears in your eyes.

Until your train of thought stopped when you heard the door to the women's bathroom open wide, hearing soft footsteps coming in and seeming to have stopped near the mirror.

"Y/N?" It was Leah's voice, it sounded soft because the bathroom had quite an echo. "Are you okay, do you need anything?"

"He's gone?" You asked shakily, leaving the bathroom stall, as soon as Leah saw you with your makeup smeared with tears, she gently tilted her head, giving you an empathetic look and approached you.

Leah nodded at your question.

"Yes, between Mr. Nakajima, Bucky and I, we took that being out of the restaurant." Leah rolled her eyes, she reached into the pockets of her apron for a handkerchief with a couple of flowers embroidered on it and wiped your face. "I really thought James was going to break his face, I was already thinking about what to replace the restaurant furniture with… they are made of old wood."

Both laughed at the comment, although you also imagined Mr. Nakajima, who had a bad temper, pushing your ex out of the restaurant door.

He was a man with a quite volatile temperament, like Bucky's.

When you returned to the restaurant you didn't see Bucky, he was outside leaning on his motorcycle, you said goodbye to Mr. Nakajima who was also leaving the restaurant with you and of course to Leah, thanking both.

Mr. Nakajima opened the door for you and let you out first.

"Pretty ladies first" Mr. Nakajima said with a kind smile, which made you laugh, and that made Bucky turn his head to the door of the establishment and approach you.

"Are you ok?" Bucky gently took your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

You looked into his eyes and you could feel that he was still upset by your ex's attitude, in fact, he seemed a little uncomfortable, perhaps remembering your look of doubt.

You nodded silently. You had a thoughtful look again.

"Honey…" Bucky began to speak softly, lowering his hands to his sides. It was the first time he had called you that pet name since you had started talking and going out. "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with."

You remained silent, listening to what he had to say.

"I have nightmares at night, I have anger issues, I'm 106 years old…" Bucky chuckled, looking away from your eyes for a moment to see a couple of people crossing the street during the lonely night. "Even other problems, especially because of my past, so I will totally understand if you want to get back with him."

You didn't know what your expression really was, but Bucky seemed surprised as he looked back at you.

"What? I said something wrong?" Bucky asked, maybe you looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm really going to have to talk to Dr. Raynor." You said nodding with a smile on your lips.

Bucky looked at you confused, he didn't understand what the mention from his psychologist that he was seeing it had to do with this conversation.

“Oh please…” You rolled your eyes, sometimes you forgot that Bucky was born before penicillin. "It means that I'd be crazy if you think I'm going to choose my ex. I like you, James B-"

Bucky leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours and bringing his hands back to your face, your eyes instinctively closed, enjoying the kiss which became more intense and then you both separated, gasping for air, without saying a word...

You two now knew how the other felt.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x female reader

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