#i just want to eat my sandwich i’m begging | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 10 months ago

Text

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

1K notes · View notes

makethemhoesmad · 3 months ago

Text

love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options.

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands.

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now.

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?”

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?”

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.”

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me.

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way.

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it.

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

#mutuals💀#paige bueckers #ask #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #cellythe”goat”#celly😗#i love you sisterwifey forever <3 #anons😗

449 notes · View notes

sugojosgf · 8 months ago

Text

sandwiched between us, she's sticky!

﹒ shoko , hime ﹕☆ ﹟ fem · prns ㅤ࣭ ㅤׂ : ᯓ cw : dēgradation , swītch reader , 3sōme ! ﹐

shoko's mean. utahime's sweet. let's make something savory ?

“Hey sweets, are you enjoying this ?” Shoko draws out, lips pulled into a lazy smirk. Sure, you were just sitting on the couch, hands clasped tightly. you should be comfortable enough.

you should be comfortable but your body burns almost feverishly, your eyes unmoving and throat parched. you were desperate, so thirsty and you know if you used the right words, you could be satiated.

“I would like it if you used your words.” she says in a sickeningly sweet voice, you know its dancing between the line of an order or a request. So you swallow the lump in your throat, and look at her with all the desire you could muster in your eyes.

“I promise I'm enjoying this.”

Shoko almost coos at your cuteness, wide eyed and throat bobbing with fervour.

“Isn't she such a good girl, Iori ?”

A small yelp leaves your mouth, when pretty utahime lols her head back, staring at you upside down. Shoko thrusts her fingers deeper and whatever response utahime had in her throat came out as a high-pitched moan.

From her angle, you couldn't see much except for shoko's fingers disappearing into utahime's skirt which would result in a sob or a groan. She would whimper and thrash around till shoko stopped to silence her.

“My girlfriends are so unresponsive today,” shoko sighs before bringing her big hands, spreading utahime's legs further.

“I asked if you think she is a good girl ?” her skirt hikes up and you can see her milky thighs, so pliant but movement restricted with the lingerie shoko had gifted.

“Y/N, s’ good.” she whimpers.

And God, the noises your ears strain to hear make you go red. So wet, so vulgar, and you wanted more.

“Can’t even complete your sentence, fucking slut.”

you almost moaned even if it wasn’t directed at you.

"Wetting my fingers like a bitch in heat."

you choke on your own spit, and feel your panties getting wetter. your hands play with your shirt just so you don't actually touch yourself and disappoint shoko.

Utahime sobs at those words, "only for you, iei-, I’m so wet only for-”

Even before she can complete the sentence, shoko pulls her hand away with a squelch and shoves her fingers into her mouth.

“Taste yourself.”

And the scene that ensues feels straight from porn, utahime hollows her mouth, her plump lips shining with her own messy arousal. She sucks like she is trying to bleed shoko dry with her mouth- Her tongue making it's way till her knuckles.

“So sick in the head that you are actually enjoying this. What will people think when they see the kyoto school's student supervisor spread out like this begging to be fucked ?”

She spits and utahime's thighs shake and tries to bracket shoko's hips. She whimpers so softly you almost want to walk over to the bed and fuck her so you can relieve her from her whining.

“baby..." shoko draws out, looking at you. "are you grinding against the couch ? Did I say that you are allowed to do that?”

you never realised your were doing that, you just wanted to touch yourself already.

“Please.”

“Oh aren't you precious, asking for permission.”

She then arches her back to bend down, not before ripping of utahime's skirt off her, and begins to eat her out.

you wish you could have a better look, seeing shoko's tongue disappearing into her pale folds, making a dripping mess on clean sheets.

“C’mere.”

shoko slurs, face a complete mess, lips coated with shine and you want to kiss her hard.

you get up almost immediately, crawling almost pathetically towards them. The sounds in the room don't get any quieter. utahime moans like she hasn’t been fucked in centuries and shoko heaves and sighs, drowning in the taste like it was elixir.

“Strip.” shoko commands as she sees you stand shyly next to the bed.

you have never done anything so fast, you barely take any time to remove your flimsy crop top and the denim pants that dug into your hips.

“My baby is so pretty like this, do you want to be touched ?” she asks, praising you just as always. Her lips ghost your chapped ones and you whimper into the kiss.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite, do you think you will be able to make me cum ? if you can, i'll let you too.”

you nod your head too fast once again.

“So pretty for me like this.”

you tug on the straps of shoko's top. When the straps fall, you are met with the most beautiful pair of tits waiting to be ravished,

So you do exactly that, suck on them, litter them with bruises and play with them with your fingers squeezing her soft skin.

The moans that she lets out are just affirmations for you to continue.

shoko begins to squirm and her fingers play with utahime's clit, making her squirm too. you begin to tug on shoko's sweats so you can finally be where you want.

your shy hands make way to her dripping pussy and touch her softly through her panties. getting bolder when her voice gets louder.

“sweetheart, fuck me already.”

and who are you to deny her ?

you begin to work your fingers, rubbing her clit and pushing in completely to see the way shoko arches and moans.

She grinds herself onto your fingers while you apply more pressure to her aching clit.

you know shoko is close when you latch your mouth onto her tits again and play with her nipples using your tongue.

shoko grits her teeth together as her orgasm crashes, and she leaves your hand dripping with her juices.

“You were so good for me, weren’t you?”

She speaks into your mouth when she brings you for a kiss, exploring your soft mouth, wet and needy.

Her hands go down to touch you through your lingerie when your steamy makeout session is interrupted by a whine.

“I don’t pay attention to you for a minute and you are whining like a whore. Never learnt to shut the fuck up, have you ?”

you would’ve cried and apologised and begged shoko to fuck you until she did, wrapped on her lap, if you were in utahime's position.

Instead utahime deepens her pout and lets her tongue coat her lips with a layer of spit making it gleam and inviting.

“My mouth is so lonely though, ieiri.”

Something snaps and the next second you are being hoisted to sit on utahime's face, shutting her up efficiently.

you begin to ride her face when her tongue peeks out to lick your clit, nose pressed against your folds.

shoko's tight hold on your hips leaves you with the opportunity to grope utahime's tits, exposed with her unbuttoned shirt.

“You like this so much don't you ? mouth filled with pussy ?” you whimper groaning when you feel utahime moan underneath you. She knows you are close when your thighs clamp against her head almost involuntarily.

you come with a shuddered groan, breathing heavily and tears gathered on your lashes.

“Felt s’good.”

you mumble too tired, flopping next to utahime so you can press kisses against her face.

Meanwhile , shoko moved down to lick and finger utahime open. Her thick fingers plunge into her, the sound of her dripping cunt loud and clear in the room.

her soft cries fill the room as you bring your hands down to touch her pretty clit as shoko filled her.

utahime comes with a reedy cry, giggling as she hits her high.

“You both did so well.” shoko says before falling right in between you both, bodies pressing close together as you three drift away.

624 notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 17 days ago

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Twelve.

previous (chapter eleven). series masterlist. the playlist.

chapter synopsis - And throughout it all, no matter what - there was Lacie.

pairing - dad’s bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - cursing. alcohol consumption.

word count - 5k

authors note - to all my girls who have their girlfriends backs no matter what, who wipe their tears and fix their hair and tell them everything is going to be okay, who will always pick up the phone regardless of the time or place… this one’s for you.

masterlist. inbox.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Honey, please. You’re making me nervous.”

You foot stills where it was banging against the cabinet, the words halting your movements. You’re perched up on your kitchen counter, watching as Bucky makes you breakfast, both of you illuminated by the morning light. He’s shirtless and wearing short shorts that show off the tanned, corded muscle of his thighs, skin all sun kissed and begging to be bitten.

There’s an energy coursing through your veins, prickly and warm. You woke up feeling like this - uneasy and on edge - like a grey cloud was looming in the distance, getting closer with every passing minute.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he moves to stand between your legs, warm hands splaying across your thighs.

“I’m fine,” you answer a little too quickly, avoiding his gaze. “S’nothing.”

Bucky takes your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmurs. “I can feel your anxiety in my chest. If it’s bad for me, it’s gotta be awful for you.”

“I don’t know what it is,” you whisper, playing with his fingers. “Just woke up with this… feeling.”

He leans forward to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, lips warm on your skin.

“Get dressed.”

“What?”

“Get dressed, baby. We’re going out.”

“But what about breakfast?”

“We’re bringing breakfast with us.”

You stare at him for a moment, before nodding and hopping down from the counter. Padding across the kitchen tiles, you make your way into your room, your nerves too fried to worry about what your soulmate has planned.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The world passes by in a blur as Bucky speeds down the road, the steady roar of his truck soothing the buzzing in your bones. You arrive at your destination before you know it, coming to a stop next to a familiar path.

“Our house,” you breathe, looking out over the coastal plot.

“Our soon to be house,” he smiles, slinging an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him. “Thought we could have a breakfast picnic.”

“That sounds… perfect.”

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat to settle your nerves.

“Come on, honey baby. Let’s put down a blanket and eat while the everything is still warm.”

You get settled on the old, worn throw that Bucky keeps in his trunk, looking out at the ocean view that you’ll be blessed with for the rest of your lives.

“I may be the baker here, but you’re a damn good cook, sir.”

You practically moan as you bite into the sandwich, rolling your eyes when your soulmate can’t help but laugh at you.

“You blow up my ego too much.”

“Well, someone has to, I suppose.”

He shoves you in the shoulder lightly, chortling at your dramatics when you throw yourself backwards.

“If you’re done with the theatrics, there’s something I want to show you.”

“Fine, fine,” you relent, sitting up and finishing your breakfast. “Show me, Buck.”

He reaches into the picnic basket, pulling out rolls of paper and unfurling them in front of you.

“Official house blueprints. Got them all printed properly so we can mark them up and make adjustments.”

You run your fingers over the designs, trying to picture it all in your head. You trace journeys through the house - living room to kitchen, bedroom to bathroom, front door to backyard. Bucky watches you, gentle smile etched almost permanently onto his face. He wishes, for a moment, that he could speed up time - that the house was built and finished, so he can swim in the pool with you on Sunday mornings, stay up late watching movies on Friday nights, listen for your car pulling into the driveway after a long day at work in the week.

“I’ve been thinking about the little things, you know. That I’d want in the house.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smile, all hopeful and content, and every worry Bucky has ever had vanishes into thin air.

“Tell me.”

“I think we’re - I’m - gonna need a pantry. If I try new recipes at home, I have to buy copious amounts of flour and sugar and all that jazz. I think a pantry would make everything a little bit easier.”

Bucky pores over the blueprints, pointing at a certain area of the spacious kitchen.

“We could add one here? Build the walls into this cove section, close it off.”

“Perfect,” you grin, leaning over to kiss him sweetly.

He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, allowing the warmth of your skin to seep into his.

“Also,” you murmur against his lips, “I was thinking that we should make sure the shower is plenty big enough for two people. Hmm?”

Your soulmate groans, closing the gap between you to press a kiss to your smirk.

“I agree,” he hums. “I couldn’t agree more, actually. Might put a bench in there for good measure too. You know, just in case.”

You can’t help but chuckle, pecking him again before sitting back to get a better look at the designs.

“As long as I’ve got lots of kitchen storage and countertop space, I’m happy. Everything else is a bonus. I could live anywhere with you and be happy, actually.”

Bucky’s looking at you like you are the sun, bright and blinding and brilliant. A couple of years ago, if anyone looked at you like this, you’d have shied away, shrunk into the shell of yourself to avoid the gaze. Now, you revel in it, soaking up the warmth that being the centre of someone’s universe brings.

“I love you so much, my honey. And I can’t wait to build you a house.”

“I love you so much. And I can’t believe you’re going to build me a house. I mean, how many girls can say that?”

You shift over to slot yourself into Bucky’s side, the heavy weight of his arm around you anchoring you to the present. Resting your head on his shoulder, you try to exhale all of your anxiety, focusing on the coastal view instead.

Your eyes are drifting closed when you’re startled back to reality by your phone ringing. You grab it and show it to Bucky, who smiles at the sweet picture of Lacie that lights up the screen.

“Hey, Lace.”

“Hi babe! Has your Mom texted you?”

“Not this morning, no. Why?”

“I just bumped into her in the grocery store, and she invited me over for dinner tonight. She said we’re well overdue a catch up, just like old times. I figured she’d call or text you when she got home.”

“Ugh, that sounds amazing. I’ll call her in a minute and double check the details, but… I can’t wait.”

“Yes, call her! I’ll bring both red and white wine, just to be sure. I’m so excited you wouldn’t even believe. It’s been too long since I’ve spent the evening with my second family.”

“And I’ll make you that cake you like for dessert, the raspberry and peach one.”

“Eeee! You’re the best. See you tonight, babe!”

“See you tonight, Lace. Love you.”

“Love you too. Later!”

You’re grinning when you press the red button to hang up, content with the sudden addition of evening plans. Bucky presses a kiss into your hair, happy to see you the most relaxed you’ve been all morning.

“You wanna join us, Buck?”

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you in so you’re sat in between his legs, back to his chest.

“No, it’s okay. It’ll do you good to have a night with your family, honey. Besides, I have like two weeks worth of laundry to catch up on.”

“Stop it. I’ll be having fun with my best friend and you’ll be… doing laundry?”

“Might clean my oven, too.”

“Stop,” you laugh, leaning back into him. “You’re making me feel guilty.”

“Well,” he hums against your ear, “seeing as they’re stealing you away from me tonight… how about we go sailing today? Promise I’ll get you back in time to get ready for dinner.”

“I’d love that,” you breathe, twisting around to plant a kiss on his stubbled jaw. “We haven’t been out on the boat in forever.”

“Then let’s go, honey girl. The ocean awaits us.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Being on the sailboat with Bucky takes you right back to the day after your Tethering.

Salty breeze whipping through your clothes, sun beating down on your skin, wooden boards creaking beneath your feet. Your soulmate stands on the deck in his pale blue linen button up, adjusting the sails with experienced precision. He’s the image of grace, like a statue made of marble carved by an ancient sculptor.

“You thinking about that day?”

You didn’t even notice he’d moved, too fixated on his backlit silhouette and how beautifully broad his shoulders look.

“Yeah,” you grin, propping yourself up on your elbows where you lay. “That was a good day.”

“Yeah, it was.”

He sits down on the deck in front of you, rubbing circles into your calf with his thumb.

“A lot has changed since then, huh?”

“Yes and no. We’re still just as clueless about the soulmate stuff as we were back then,” you chuckle. “But we’re happier now. Less afraid.”

“And we still haven’t talked to your parents about it.”

“But we will. Very soon. Oops.”

Bucky shakes his head, smiling as he does it. You move to sit in the space between his spread legs, allowing his arms to wrap around you and cage you into him. The two of you stay like that for a while, embracing the calmness that time has brought you.

You close your eyes, slowly letting yourself relax as the gentle waves and the anchoring of your soulmate ease your nerves. Bucky hums lowly into your hair, a tune that you can’t quite place your finger on.

“Have I heard that before?” you ask in a murmur.

“Maybe. It’s an old song, my mom used to sing it to us as a lullaby.”

“That’s sweet.”

The mental image of a tiny little Bucky all wrapped up in his blankets while his mother sings to him is almost too much for your heart to handle. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the melody.

“You never talk about her.”

“Hmm?”

“Your mom. You never mention her.”

“I don’t really have much to say.”

You contemplate it for a moment, before deciding to just bite the bullet.

“You know my mom mentioned something about your sister the other day, and I had to sit there and nod and pretend that I already knew it. When in reality, I didn’t even know you had a sister, Buck.”

You can feel him tense up behind you, muscles going stiff where they’re wrapped around your arms.

“It just never came up.”

“Never? In almost two years of us being soulmates, it never came up?”

Bucky’s silent - perhaps the most silent you’ve ever heard him. The sound of the ocean waves is suddenly amplified, filling the empty space.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, honey.”

“Anything. Literally anything. I just… why do I feel like I don’t know anything, all of a sudden? Your family, your upbringing, nothing.”

“Because it’s not relevant. I’m not just gonna bring it up out of the blue for no reason.”

“I’d say our pasts are pretty relevant, Buck. They make us who we are. I’m not gonna sit here and push you to talk about something you don’t want to talk about, because that’s not fair. But I also don’t think it’s fair that you know everything about me, and I feel like I don’t really know that much about you.”

You’ve turned in his arms, sliding back so you can face him from a distance. You’re expecting him to look angry, or sad, but instead he looks… guilty. Caught out, even.

“You know more about me than anyone else in this world does,” he says eventually.

“Maybe. But I couldn’t tell you your mom or sister’s names, where you grew up, any of it. It makes me feel like there’s a piece of you, however big, that you just don’t want me to know.”

“I… don’t know what to say.”

“Okay. Well, neither do I, anymore.”

The two of you sit for a minute, waiting to see if the other one has anything else to add.

“We’ve done this in the wrong order, I think.” You’re whispering, but he hears you loud and clear. “We think we know each other just because we’re soulmates, but we don’t.”

He goes to interject, so you continue quickly.

“We’ve avoided tough conversations because we thought it’d make things easier, but now they’ve come back to bite us. Buck… do you know how much we haven’t talked about?”

He bites at his bottom lip, gaze never leaving yours.

“We’ve not spoken about marriage, or kids, or any of that stuff. I mean, do you even want kids? Do you know if I do? Would you want to get married? God, did we think that by not having these conversations that they’d just… go away?”

“I- I didn’t want to scare you off with the hard topics too soon. You were overwhelmed at even having a soulmate, never mind marrying or having kids with one.”

“Yeah, but Buck… we’re past that now. We should be able to talk about everything, and we’ve just pulled the wool over our eyes in blissful ignorance.”

Bucky takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his windswept hair.

“I don’t have the time that you do.”

“Hmm?”

“Kids. On my next birthday, I’ll be forty. I don’t have the time to wait around, wondering and debating if I want kids or not. You can wait another ten years if you want to - but I can’t.”

The reality of that statement hits you like a freight train, knocking the air out of your lungs.

“I can’t be an old dad. A little older, sure. But no one needs their dad to be fifty when they’re a baby. Seventy when they’re twenty one. Dying when they’re not even forty yet.”

A tear slips down your cheek, landing on your thigh with a tiny splash.

“I’m not ready for kids,” you confess quietly. “And I don’t know when I will be.”

Bucky nods in understanding, careful eyes taking you in.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, honey. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

In this moment, nothing anyone says will make anything any better. You can feel each others sadness in your chests, blue and heavy and constricting.

Bucky sails you back to shore without another word, both of you quietly contemplating. He drops you off outside your apartment building, the roar of his trucks engine the only sound that can be heard. You gently rub your thumb over his cheekbone where he’s caught the sun, before picking up your bag and unlocking your front door without looking over your shoulder.

You can’t bear to meet his eyes. You don’t dare to.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You spend the rest of the afternoon baking.

It takes your mind off of everything, at least temporarily. You throw yourself into the recipe you’ve made at least ten times, all for Lacie. This is her favourite thing you create, and you’re absolutely determined to make it perfect for her.

You place the final raspberry on the top of the cake, and burst into tears.

It feels like everything you’ve built - that you believed was solid - actually has cracks running throughout. You want to convince yourself that you’re not mad at Bucky, but you think that maybe you are. He’s made the conscious choice to never share parts of his life before you with you. Even knowing that he didn’t do it with any malicious intent doesn’t seem to make it any easier.

Taking a deep breath, you pop the cake in the refrigerator to keep it from melting, before making your way to your bathroom. The water you splash on your face makes you feel a little more alive, the coolness of it shocking you back to reality.

You inhale, watching your reflection in the mirror as you exhale shakily. A noise from your phone rings out from where it sits atop the vanity, a text from Lacie lighting up the screen.

From: Lace <3

Can’t wait to see you tonight babe!! Are you wearing a skirt, or are jeans the vibe?? Shorts maybe?? Send me a pic of your outfit <33

You smile as you type your reply, picturing her face in your head as she reads it.

To: Lace <3

No outfit picked yet - will let you know what I decide. Definitely not wearing jeans, skirt is a maybe. Made your cake though <3

You press send and hop in the shower, hoping that the hot spray of the water will wash away some of the tension in your muscles. Trying to turn your brain off, you decide to focus all your attention on getting dressed and ready, putting on some music and pouring yourself a glass of something fruity.

Tonight will be a good night. You’ll make sure of it.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You wait for Lacie out on the street, just like old times. If she was ever coming over when you were kids, you’d stand at the end of your driveway, too excited to stay on the front porch.

She tries to run towards you, but her wedge heels don’t let her get too far. She hobbles over instead, half hopping, half jumping to get to you faster.

“I am so excited!” she practically yells into your ear as she hugs you tightly. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Lace,” you laugh, “I saw you last week.”

“Too long!” she declares, grabbing your hand and leading you towards your front door. “Let’s have the best night ever, yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s.”

Your parents are overjoyed to see Lacie again.

“You got taller, kid?” your Dad asks as he ruffles her hair, much to her dismay.

Your Mom’s laughing, shaking her head as she pulls her in for a quick cuddle.

“You look beautiful, sweetie. Have you changed your hair? Is it lighter?”

“You like it? Did it a couple of months ago. Wanted a change.”

“I love it. I need to make an appointment with you soon, I’m well overdue a cut.”

“I’ll make space for you anytime, Lori. Just text me and I’ll fit you in.”

“Wine, anyone?” your Dad yells from the kitchen doorway. “Lacie, I know you’ll have some!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she teases, giggling. “But yes, I will. The biggest glass you have, actually.”

You grin as you sit down to your place at the dinner table, Lacie taking the chair next to you. She’s already launched into a story about a nightmare client at work, making all of you double over with laughter.

The stress leaves your body the more you smile, all four of you wrapped up in this perfect bubble of nostalgia and friendship and memories and love.

Just like old times.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“We’re going for a walk. You girls want to come?”

Your parents are stood hand in hand in the doorway, looking at you expectantly.

“No thanks, you two go ahead. Think we’re gonna have a drink on the porch.”

“Okay, sweethearts. See you later.”

They’re giggling at something when they leave, the melodic sound of it hanging in the air behind them.

“You wanna raid the bar cart?” Lacie asks, looking at you with mischief in her eyes.

“Yes, I do,” you laugh, standing up and pulling her with you.

The two of you find a bottle of coconut rum, half empty but still in date. Your best friend holds it in her hand as if you’ve discovered buried treasure, face lit up with excitement.

“Let’s sit out the back, maybe see some stars.”

You get cosy on the porch, both of you curled up under a blanket to keep the evening chill at bay. You pass the rum back and forth, content to just be in each others company again.

“Remember when we were like sixteen, and your Dad caught us trying a cigarette out here?”

You smile at the memory, casting your mind back to that day you sat in this very spot.

“And instead of yelling at us, he told us that we were lighting it wrong?”

“And then he called us losers while he walked off laughing.”

You both shake with laughter, recalling the look on his face.

“I thought we were so grounded, but then I just felt kinda lame.”

“That’s my Dad for you. He’s always had his own method of parenting. And honestly? It’s worked pretty good so far.”

Lacie looks at you with a measured gaze before taking your hand in hers.

“Have you guys talked to your parents yet? About everything?”

“No,” you reply a little too quickly, bottom lip wobbling. “Not yet.”

“Hey, hey.”

She scoots over so she’s practically sitting in your lap, legs tangled with yours under the throw as she slings an arm around your shoulders to pull you close.

“Babe, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You didn’t realise you were until she said it, now feeling the warm tears drip down your face. There’s a lump in your throat that you can’t seem to get rid of, and you wonder momentarily if it’s your sadness or Bucky’s.

“Me and Bucky had a bad day.”

“What happened?”

Her fingers are rubbing gentle patterns into the skin of your shoulder, her soft eyes watching you encouragingly. She’s always been the most patient person with you - as if she knows you’ll tell her everything eventually, even if it takes you a while.

“I just had this - this, this sudden realisation? That I don’t feel like I actually know that much about him, or his past, or his family. And when I said this to him, everything got weird and tense and he was all closed off.”

“Did you ask why? Why he hasn’t shared this stuff with you?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “He told me he just didn’t have much to say.”

“Well that’s not really an answer.”

“Exactly. Am I being crazy? You’d tell me if I was being crazy, right?”

“Of course I’d tell you, you know I would. And you’re not being crazy. He’s so involved with your family, so why shouldn’t you at least know a little about his?”

“This is what I mean,” you breathe, relieved that someone finally understands. “He’s purposefully never mentioned his parents, or his upbringing. You know I only found out he has a sister last week?”

“Woah. That’s… that’s kind of a big deal.”

“I just don’t know if he could see it from my point of view when we talked about it today. And I didn’t want to push and push just in case I pushed too far, because that isn’t fair and he wouldn’t do that to me. But at the same time… sometimes he closes himself off, whether he realises it or not.”

She squeezes you tightly, reassuring you with a simple gesture.

“I love you. You know that babe, don’t you? Even if we don’t see each other as much as we used to. I love you more than anything.”

She’s only making you cry harder, a mixture of happy and sad tears.

“I know, Lace. I love you so much.”

She rests her head atop yours, hands and hearts intertwined on the back porch.

“I just…” you take a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. “I’m sad. And I’m angry. I’m angry that this is the hand I’ve been dealt. Not Bucky - never Bucky - God he’s the best soulmate I ever could have asked for. But I’m mad that we’ve had it so hard. Soulmates are supposed to be easy and simple and written in the stars and all I’ve felt is stress because our Tethering is so complicated.

I feel so uncertain of the future and who I am and who I want to be. And I never used to feel that way, but Bucky has changed everything. I love him so much, and that has altered my entire life and my entire future and the way I look at and think about the world.

I guess I’m just sad, at the end of it all. Because this should have been a magical honeymoon period for us, and instead it was filled with so much worry and hiding and confusion. And how is that fair? Why do some people have it easy, and others don’t?”

Lacie takes your face in her hands, forcing you to look into her big green eyes.

“Listen to me, babe. Nothing worth having ever comes easy.”

You’re expecting her to continue, but she doesn’t. She just watches you process, thumbs wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

“Nothing. Worth. Having. Ever. Comes. Easy.”

You’re nodding, letting her words sink in.

“You’ve been dealt a tough hand. You’re right. But when has that ever gotten you down before? You’ve always picked yourself up, dusted yourself off, and kept going. It’s one of the things I love the most about you.”

A ghost of a smile threatens to take over your face, and she laughs.

“It’s true. And it’s not going to solve itself overnight. It’s going to require a lot of talking, a lot of listening, and a lot of patience. But the two of you will do it. Because you’re soulmates, and you’re meant to be. Literally.

Have some time apart, put a little space between you. And then come back together and work through this. It’ll do you both some good to take a step back and look at everything from a different perspective in a few days. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, tucking her hair behind her ear so it stops blowing into her face. “Yeah.”

“And you know where I am if you need to talk or rant or scream or cry or all of the above.”

“Always,” you chuckle, resting your head on her shoulder. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

The two of you abandon the rum, instead choosing to make some tea to drink out on the porch. You watch the stars for hours, just like you did when you were kids.

“You wanna have a sleepover tonight?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If Cameron doesn’t mind.”

“He won’t, don’t worry. I’d love to.”

Your Mom and Dad watch through the kitchen window, as the two girls who were once four years old running around the garden are now grown women, sitting out on the bench and holding hands like they used to.

They’d pause time, if they could. Just for a moment.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You feel like giggly teenagers when you both snuggle up under your blankets in bed, the light of the moon casting shadows across your features.

You’re all tucked up, facing each other and whispering in the dark. These would be your favourite nights when you were kids, especially during the summer. The promise of no school tomorrow, staying up and sharing secrets until the early hours of the morning, trying to keep your voices down so your parents didn’t hear. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed it until now.

Lacie moves a piece of hair away from your face, her manicured nails against your skin making you shiver. She reaches for your hand under the duvet, linking your fingers firmly.

“You know, I was never worried about meeting my soulmate,” she murmurs into the dusk. “I was always excited, but never worried.”

“You weren’t? How come?”

“Because I’ve had a soulmate since I was four years old. And she is the most important thing I have. Even if I never met my romantic soulmate, I would have been okay - because I know what true love is.”

A tear slips down your cheek and onto your pillow as you shuffle sideways, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I’m so lucky,” you sniffle. “And emotional. I think the rum has gone to our heads.”

Your best friend laughs a little too loud, both of you trying to muffle the sound with your hands.

“I’ve always been a teary drunk,” she chuckles, squeezing your fingers. “Before we both fall asleep because the wine has hit us, let me just say that I’m proud of you. Going to California, having the courage to come back, opening yourself up to Bucky… all of it. You guys will be just fine.”

“Yeah, we will. I couldn’t have done any of it without you, though.”

“We make a good team,” she grins.

“We always have. We’ve had twenty years of being a good team.”

“Here’s to twenty more,” she whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“And twenty more after that,” you whisper back, snuggling into her.

You fall asleep like that, still tangled and clutching each other’s hands like you’re children again. You can almost feel the love in the room, all warm and soft and glowing.

No matter what happens… you’ve known what true love was since you were four years old. And that is something that no Tethering can replicate.

tag list

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

314 notes · View notes

btsficsandsuch · 1 year ago

Text

Taste of His Own Medicine

You suddenly have to leave to go back to your home country for a few months. Yoongi decides to ignore you so you decide to show him how it feels when he realizes you’re gone.

“Hi Yoongi.”, you said after letting yourself in the studio. You received nothing more than a grunt. “I brought you some food.”, you said trying to lure him over to the couch. “Not now Y/N. I’ve got a lot going on.”, he said without even looking at you. You were starting to get frustrated. Sure you wanted to spend time with him but you also had something really important and time sensitive to tell him. You knew he was already stressed and cranky and your news wasn’t going to make it any better. “Yoongi please come have dinner with me. I really need to talk to you about something.”, you begged. He slammed his hand on the desk and spun his chair around startling you., “What part of not now I’m busy are you not understanding? Sometimes you can be so frustrating Y/N. Please just get out and leave me alone.” You didn’t say a word and just grabbed your bag storming out of his studio slamming the door behind you.

Back at your apartment you were doing your best to calm your nerves. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to speak to you like that and even after you haven’t spoken or seen each other in three weeks. You felt that you were more than patient and understanding when he got into moods like this with his work. He always did this to you where he’d ignore you and if he did pay attention to you he was short with everything you did and said. You finished zipping up the last of your bags and placed them by the door along with your plane ticket. Something had come up and you had to fly back to your home country which was the reason for your visit to Yoongi’s today. You were going to tell him that in the morning you had to fly home and you’d be gone for at least two months. You had hoped to eat dinner together and cuddle a little since it would be the last time you’d be with each other for a while. Instead you were yelled at and called names.

The following morning you woke up and checked your phone secretly hoping for a text or a phone call or anything from Yoongi giving you a reason to call him and hear his voice before leaving for the airport but nothing. “Fine then. If he doesn’t care I won’t either.”, you thought slamming your phone down on the desk. You showered and got changed just finishing up when you got a notification that your ride was waiting outside. You grabbed your bags and took one last look at your apartment you’d be away from and closed the door behind you.

Once at the airport you remembered why you hated flying so much. The crowds of rude people, the loud noises, the having to rush no matter how early you are. You hated it. Your first flight went smoothly. You arrived at your layover destination and decided to grab something to eat while you waited to board your next flight. While eating your sandwich you remembered that you had turned your phone off before the last flight and pulled it out of your pocket to power it on.

Once up and running you waiting for any notifications to pop up. There were two texts from your mom, one from your best friend, and one from your boss. Then you saw something that concerned you. 11 missed calls and close to 20 texts messages, all from Yoongi.

Yoongles: Hey Y/N, I’m on my way home. Did you need me to stop and get you anything? I seriously can’t want to get in bed with you. I need a hug more than anything.

“Odd he wants to pretend like he didn’t snap last night.”, you thought before continuing to read.

Yoongles:Y/N where are you? I thought today was your day off.

Yoongles: Babe seriously you never go this long without responding.

Yoongles: Y/N why is a bunch of your stuff gone? Did you leave?

Yoongles: Listen I know I’ve been difficult lately but you know I love you and you mean everything to me.

Yoongles: Y/N please answer me. I’m really worried right now. Whatever happened we can fix it.

Before you could continue reading your phone started ringing again. You saw Yoongi’s name pop up. Part of you wanted to just ignore him but you did feel kind of bad knowing that he was in distress. You decided to answer,

“Hello”

“Y/N! Where are you? I’ll come to you. We need to talk”

“Umm I’m actually at the airport waiting for my connecting flight back home.”

“What?! You’re going back home? Like forever?”

“No I’ll be gone for at least the next two months. Maybe a little longer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You seriously just packed your stuff without saying goodbye.”

“Actually I came by your studio yesterday. Remember? I had found out yesterday morning that something has come up and I need to go back home for a while. I brought you food and asked you to talk to me. You ignored me and then yelled at me and called me annoying and told me to leave so I did.”

There was a long silence before Yoongi spoke again, “No this isn’t happening. I really don’t get to see you for at least two months? I can’t live like that.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “Well maybe this will teach you not to take our time together for granted and to not treat me like that. They’re about to start boarding so I have to go. Take care of yourself Yoongi. I’ll see you when I get back.” With that you hung up not giving him the chance to say anything else. You knew it was harsh but he was also harsh towards you and you wanted him to regret his actions as petty as that might be. Maybe he’ll see what it feels like to be on the receiving end of feeling ignored. A taste of his own medicine.

You shut your phone back off and made your way to the gate boarding your next plane. Your next flight thankfully went quick and you landed back in your home country. You were going to be staying with your parents. Finally arriving at your parents house you quickly went up to your old room and laid in bed exhausted from the day of travel. You turned on your phone so you could charge it and set your alarm clock when you heard a bunch of notifications which you figured were all from Yoongi. You were correct. He had tried to call you six more times and sent you a bunch of texts,

Yoongles: Y/N I’m really sorry. I was such a jerk. I never should’ve asked you to leave.

Yoongles: Please let me know when you’ve landed so that I know you’re safe.

Yoongles: I’ll stop bothering you. Just please let me know you’re safe and okay. I’m laying in bed alone and I really miss you. I love you.

You sighed. As much as you wanted to completely ignore him you knew he’d be a nervous wreck all night if he didn’t know you were safe and you didn’t want that.

You: I just got to my parents so I’m safe. Get some sleep Yoongi. You really need it. I’ll talk to you another time.

Over the next couple months Yoongi texted you and called you more than he had in the last six months. You didn’t completely ignore him but you definitely tried to give him that taste of his own medicine.

You were able to get everything situated back home and got prepared to make the trip back to Seoul. You had decided to keep it a surprise from Yoongi telling him that you were still probably going to be gone for a few more weeks.Thankfully the trip was quick and easy and you were now making your way to his studio. You knocked on the door but all you heard was a muffled Go Away. Rolling your eyes you knocked again, this time louder and harder hoping to get his attention.

It worked because a few second later the door swung open with fury and standing there was a disheveled Yoongi. He looked like he hadn’t slept the entire time you were gone and he probably ate just enough to barely keep him alive. “What do you wa-?”, he stopped mid speech when his eyes met yours. Instantly he lunged forward wrapping his arms around you burying his face in your neck. Before you could say anything you felt his shoulder start to shake and not long after you felt warm tears landing on your neck. Gently you pushed him away to get a better look and saw that he was crying.

“Yoongles, why are you crying?”, you asked wiping at the tears. This was only the third time he had ever allowed you to see him cry and it was heartbreaking. He was taking this a lot harder than you ever thought he would.

Quickly you pulled him into his studio and sat him down on the couch trying to comfort him. After he was able to calm his breathing he leaned onto you snuggling his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I never knew how hard it was when I shut you out. These last couple months have been awful.” You kissed his forehead, “It’s okay Yoongi. I’m here now. I’m sorry that I just left like that but I wanted you to see how it felt even though it was painful for me too. I worried about you every day while I was gone.” He chuckled, “Yeah well I cried pretty much every night. I don’t know how you did it all these years. I promise I’m going to be better about spending time with you and I’ll watch my mouth.” You smiled while pushing the hair out of his face, “Good because next time I go home I just might not come back.” Yoongi shook his head at the thought.

You watched him walk over to his computer closing all of the systems and powering it off. “What are you doing?”, you asked confused. He started putting on his coat and walked over to take your hand, “We’re gonna go get something to eat and then go home. We have two months of cuddles to make up for and I’m not waiting any longer.” You smiled taking his hand and walking out of the room with him happy that you finally get to relax in his arms like you wanted from the start.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts yoongi #bts fluff #bts imagines #yoongi imagine #yoongi x y/n #yoongi #min yoongi

990 notes · View notes

wilbursprincess · 9 months ago

Note

Helloooo! Joining into the anon list hereee

Like Imagne Harvey (i forgot how to spell the name of Sorrybur from the office vid) fucking reader in the broom closet of the office as the others are in the room down the hall with the door open, and they almost get caught by Phil?

-🖨️ anon (yes I am le photocopier from the SorryBoys video, don't tell anyone🤫🤫🤫

“Try To Stay Quiet, Yea?”

Sorrybur (Harvey) x Female Reader

Warnings: Degrading, exhibitionism, breeding kink (if you squint)

PHOTOCOPIER ANON??? That’s not what was on my 2024 bingo list. Welcome to the club, 🖨 anon! (That’s a printer emoji but I’ll entertain you)

Fic below cut!

“Can’t control myself when you’re wearing that little blouse,” Harvey growls in my ear, mops hitting my back as he pushes me up against the wall of the closet. “Got those buttons undone, just teasing me with those tits.”

I whine as he pops my shirt open. “Did it… did it just for you.”

He scoffs. “That’s what I thought. Just begging for me to take you right here, with everyone just outside, huh?”

Nodding, my stomach tightens as Harvey’s hand squeezes my thigh.

“Turn around.”

I let out a tiny yelp as he yanks my panties around my knees and lifts my skirt. A sharp hand tugs my hair at the noise, his lips brushing my ear.

“Try to stay quiet, yea?” Harvey whispers, slapping a hand over my mouth as he pushes inside me. “Pathetic little thing, whimpering around my cock like that.”

Every word makes me wetter, combined with the burning knowledge our coworkers are just right there, in the break room, small-talking over their sandwiches.

“Aww, someone’s dripping at the thought of being caught,” Harvey snickers into my ear, and I moan against his hand. “You’re going to ruin my pants, then everyone’s going to know what we did.”

Something about Harvey being fully dressed with just his fly undone makes my knees buckle, his arm around my waist practically holding me up on my shaky legs.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” he whispers, moving his hand for a moment. “Go on, sweetheart. Tell me.”

A tiny groan forms on my lips. “So… good, Harvey. Oh, God.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs proudly, thrusting into me harder as footsteps walk by our closet. “Oooh, imagine, you getting caught acting like this.”

I gasp, arching my back, and the footsteps stop. Without slowing down in the slightest, Harvey presses a hand over my mouth and presses his thumb onto my tongue.

“What’s going on?” Blight’s whiny voice is muffled by the closet door. “Phil, why are you staring at the closet?”

“Oh, just thought I heard something,” Phil says lazily, almost as if he dismissed the thought before it entered his mind. “Probably just the heating.”

Blight pauses. “Oh, but you should check. What if Tim’s hiding in there?”

I’m trying to hold back my climax until it’s safe to make noise, but it’s getting tough. My eyes are watering, face bright red, and Harvey isn’t letting up one bit.

“You sure, Blight?” Phil says. “I mean, it can’t hurt.” The doorknob rattles.

Harvey’s hand grabs my chin. “Cum.” He growls in my ear, and of course, my body does what he tells it to. I ride it out while biting my tongue, knees shaking so much I can barely stand up.

“What’s up, Phil?” Tim’s voice shocks me, and the doorknob stops moving. “Blight, why are you looking at me like that?”

Harvey groans and spills deep inside me, the warmth filling me from the inside out as he pushes it back into me with pleasure-hazy thrusts.

“Grow up, you two,” Phil complains, and I hear the break room door open. “Go finish eating.”

Harvey lets out a satisfied grunt, slowly pulling out of me and yanking my panties back up.

“Wouldn’t want to waste any of it,” he coos, patting my on the ass and smoothing my skirt back down. “Back to work?”

177 notes · View notes

mrs-saturday · 4 months ago

Text

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*Start Of Something New˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Twinkle Towne (An F1 X High School Musical AU!)

♥ my masterlist!

♥ pairing: george russell x fem!reader, platonic!rest of grid x reader

♥ synopsis: New years parties, chalets and karaoke... Is this the start of something new for up-and-coming driver George Russell and maths genius Y/N L/N?

♥ warnings: nada, no warnings here bbys

♥ a/n: tysm for all your amazing love, support and kindness on my work! all the likes and kind reblogs and convos I have with you all over asks mean so so much to me, and im glad people are enjoying my work! TT is a purely self indulgent fic, but I hope you'll grow to love her as much as I do! Enjoy the show!

You had always hated these FIA New Years parties, and this year was NO exception. Every year it was the same old chalet in the alps, with the same old music and the same old countdowns to the new year with a load of young drivers. You weren’t even a driver yourself, it just happened that your father, Sebastian Vettel, was like the it girl of driving, so you basically HAD to go to all these parties.

“Leibe, please, at least try and have some fun” your father begged you as he walked you down the hallway to the party for under 18’s. You huffed a little, and felt grateful you’d managed to smuggle a copy of your favourite book in that little baguette bag slung from your shoulder. “You never know, maybe you will meet someone at this party, I know Lew-” You cut your father off with a small laugh and smile “I’ll try Vati, but I’m not going to go about looking for one of your friend’s cute sons! I have to focus on school if I’m going to go to Princeton!” You cracked a glowy smile at your father and he laughed back, smoothing your hair down with his hands, before giving you a stern look. “Y/N, hand the book over.” You pouted, about to attempt a denial, but when Seb raised his eyebrow, you relented and handed your copy of ‘My Brilliant Friend’ over to your dad, as he kissed your forehead and headed off to the party.

Meanwhile, over at the karting track nearby, George was whizzing around in his coach Lewis’ old go-kart, with Lewis cheering him on from near where the pitwall usually was. “WHOO! GO RUSSELL! WHAT A LAP KIDDO!!” he claps as the younger boy pulled up to the finish line, detaching the steering wheel so he could jump out. As he ran and hi-fived his coach, a sharp cough filled the air. Valtteri, Lewis’ old teammate and the other man on this trip with them, was stood with his arms folded and a stern expression on his face. “Boys, it is New Years Eve, please can you stop training for one evening and go shower up?” He sighed, walking over to Lewis “Why are you all suited and booted, Bottas?” Lewis laughed, and Valterri gave the boys a little spin “The party, Lewis. George, there’s a kids party downstairs as well!” George scrunched his face up at the Finnish man, now with his blue helmet tucked under a lanky arm.”Young adult party” he corrected himself with a sigh, looking between both Lewis and George. “We didn’t fly all this way for you guys to race the whole time. We can do that at home.” Both the Mercedes boys hung their heads and nodded, walking off to their chalet to get cleaned up for parties they didn’t want to be at.

At the kids young adults party, cheesy pop music blared over the speakers as teens from all over the racing series played games, talked, laughed and ate. Esteban and Pierre were arguing over a foosball table, Yuki was eating every sandwich he could find, and Lando was DJing a load of karaoke over a headset and mic in his DJ merch. Kimi and Ollie, two Formula 2 drivers, had just finished up a duet of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ by Whitney Houston, as the crowd clapped. You ignored the roar of the music and laughed, sat on a couch, watching everything unfold in front of you, while pulling the blue cardigan your Vati had bought for you up over your shoulders, ready to make your escape. “Not bad for a couple of drivers, huh?” Lando hollered, messing with his lighting rig a little.

“Now, who’s gonna rock the house next next?” he asked, jumping up on a small box to scan the room better, as you struggled to think what to do, and he moved his light towards the doorway of the room. George quickly covered his face with his arm, yet felt himself dragged by another driver up to a small stage, and having a microphone thrust into his hands. You were dragged up too, a microphone flung at you, almost slipping out of your sweaty hands. How on earth could this happen to you!? Or this awfully attractive boy you’re now stood next toYou looked up at the taller man, both confused as each other, the sheen of teenage awkwardness covering both of your foreheads.

“Y’know, you guys might thank me for this later” Lando winks, to the reception of an unimpressed you and George. He slinks back behind the DJ rig and sighs “Or not…” and starts the track. You and the boy stare at each other as the opening piano notes play. You were more so staring at those beautiful blue eyes, connecting the freckles across his nose like constellations, looking at his perfectly formed cupids bow, when all of a sudden-

“Living in my own world

Didn't understand

That anything can happen

When you take a chance”

Oh boy, he has the face and voice of an angel. You made the decision quick and pulled the microphone to your lips ready for your part. There went nothing…

“I never believed in What I couldn't see

I never opened my heart (Oh)

To all the possibilities”

George felt his heart skip beats, the sound of his pulse rushing through his ears and the blood into his face. Thump-thump, thump-thump. Not only did this random girl he’d been pulled into some sort of karaoke fanfiction with LOOK like a princess, but she had the most beautiful voice and the confidence to actually sing with him. He had never believed in love at first sight, but he thought, perhaps love at first note could be real.

“I know that something has changed

Never felt this way, and right here tonight

This could be the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you (oh)

And now looking in your eyes

I feel in my heart (feel in my heart)

The start of something new”

You loosed up a little, taking the claw clip out of your hair and letting it flow freely, framing your face and making George flush a baby pink in the cheeks.

Thump-thump, thump-thump

His pulse quickened as you moved closer, hips gently swaying to the sweet sound of your harmonies, and he tried to keep himself in check as the song progressed.

“Now who'd have ever thought that

We'd both be here tonight

And the world looks so much brighter

With you by my side

I know that something has changed

Never felt this way

I know it for real”

You just glowed as you sung, sort of enjoying the anonymity of no one in the room seeming to recognise you, despite your father’s name. And George could tell you glowed, he spent all your solo parts scanning your frame, to find not a single flaw in his eyes. You were some sort of fairytale princess, singing him these sweet siren songs and making him forget the stress of the track, of Coach Hamilton’s emphasis on the upcoming races, and of his entire career as a racer.

It was you. him, and the music.

“This could be the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you (oh)

And now looking in your eyes

I feel in my heart

The start of something new”

And unbeknownst to him, you felt the same. No more swirling equations in your head, no more maths tests or Princeton or college entrance papers. Just this mysterious young man with the floppy curtains, slender frame, and glassiest blue eyes. And his voice, dulcet and warm, like ginger and honey tea on a winter’s morning. You pondered Lando’s words in your head:

“Y’know, you guys might thank me for this later”

And thought, maybe he was right. Maybe you would.

“I never knew that it could happen till it happened to me

I didn't know it before

But now it's easy to see

It's the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you

And now looking in your eyes I feel in my heart

That it's the start of something new

It feels so right to be here with you

And now looking in your eyes I feel in my heart

The start of something new (The start of something new)

The start of something new”

The music faded out as you and George stood looking into each other's eyes, a cheer spreading across the room, accompanied by the sound of claps and hollers from the crowd of teens. He smiled, and ran his hand through his hair “George. And you?” You smile back, blinking softly and quietly responding “Y/N”

You both found yourself sat outside after a while, escaping the music an the dancing just before midnight, “You were AMAZING Y/N!” The Brit, as you had learned from the accent, enthused. “You gotta be a singer, surely?” You chuckle, and follow his lead, guided by his soft hands, to a balcony “Only church choir, and even then I almost fainted!” The Brit laughed, and blushed at the gentle grip of your hand, feeling the edge of your nail dig into his vein ever so slightly. “Well, you were amazing, Y/N” He chirps, standing with you, overlooking the snowy mountains to the tune of faded voices, and the low whirr of the ski lift in the distance.

As you both looked over the balcony, George turned and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, still talking as he did so “So, Y/N, I was wondering if I could get your numb-” He trailed off as he looked up, only to realise you had vanished while he was pulling his phone out. Not that you’d wanted to, of course. But you’d promised your father you’d be back in the cabin by midnight, so you’d slinked away while George was distracted, the thought of your new school year buzzing in your mind. Besides, it’s not like you’d see the handsome stranger again.

Right?

78 notes · View notes

eepwriting · 5 months ago

Note

EEPWRITING MY BELOVED. i was just ivy barricade and i am. a mess. needing some ivy headcanons, can be nsfw or sfw !!!! i love him so much

- funera1pyre 🌹

IV Headcanons

Warnings: nsfw sandwiched between sweetness

HIII my lovely funera1 🌹 I live for your asks and of course I’m excited to write about ivyyyy!! Also I’M JELLY BUT SO HAPPY YOU GOT TO SEE THEM!! Thanks for your request as always 🤍

!! mdni !!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

✶ When I say iv would the sweetest bf I MEAN IT!!

✶ Always bringing you back little gifts and trinkets from all the states and countries he visits.

✶ Would definitely put them all in a box and write a detailed list of all the items and why he thought you’d like them.

✶ Gift giving is definitely at the top of his list on how he shows his love and appreciation.

✶ ALSO BAKING!!! Loves baking you sweet treats.

✶ Gets you matching jewelry!!!

✶ Ya know that tiktok trend with the eye color bracelets? Yeah, he’s deffo excitedly running to you asking you to do it with him.

�� Drives him crazy when you wear his name around your neck. Bonus points if you wear a shirt, jacket or hoodie of his at the same time.

✶ Has a whole folder in his phone of sneaky and not so sneaky pics of you looking cute in his clothes. Scrolls through the pics when he’s away and missing you.

✶ Has a whole separate folder for his eyes only.

✶ Full of pics of you painted with his cum, love bites, scratches, bite marks.

✶ Practically begs you to send him pics and audios when he’s away.

✶ The pics he sends back… OH BOY

✶ Never hides his pure want and desperation for you, feels no shame at all.

✶ As mentioned in his nsfw alphabet, boy loves when you praise him.

✶ Unabashedly whimpers when you call him “Good/Sweet/Pretty Boy.”

✶ Has finished more than once just from your words and teasing touches.

✶ BIG fan of make out sessions and dry humping.

✶ Is an A+ cuddle buddy, always warm and inviting.

✶ Likes to give you scalp massages while he’s curled around you.

✶ Whispers jokes and compliments in your ear before lazily pecking your cheek.

✶ Has a death grip on you when he sleeps, claiming he can’t sleep peacefully if he’s not holding you.

✶ Wakes up before you most of the time, whips up some muffins or pastries and brings them to you to eat in bed.

✶ Never asks you to help with the kitchen cleanup but gladly lets you if you offer.

✶ Smiles sweetly at you the whole time, squeezes your hip every time he passes you, wraps his arms around you while you help with washing the dishes.

✶ Always ends with him humming a tune, your feet on top of his as he spins around the kitchen with you wrapped in a hug.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

THIS MAN!! I could cry 😭

Hope this was an okay list!!! Thanks for reading and letting me spew juicy ivy brainrot 🤍

K. Bye bye.

#sleep token #sleep token worship #sleep token fic #sleep token x reader #sleep token smut #sleep token iv #iv sleep token #iv x reader

127 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

The Lonely Souls Club 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: told you i had the itch.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky

He lifts her with one arm. His real arm. She fits it perfectly. He carries her to the bed, feeling her rattle with barely restrained sobs. He lays her down and she yelps, her hand brushing his chest as she reaches to her hip.

“I’m sorry, I hurt you,” he hovers over her, his heart pumping hotly.

“No, no,” she groans and writhes in agony, “no, it’s... me. It always... hurts.”

He frowns. He feels that pain. They may have fixed him but there’s still pain. He can take a punch, even from a train on a track, but he still feels all of it. Most of all, he feels what’s missing. The part of him that isn’t there.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks. “Do you need to eat? Water?”

“Please, just leave me,” she begs and hugs a pillow, “please, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Doll,” the word slips from his lips, it tastes like sugar, but he can’t help but choke. He inhales and lets it out slowly, “I can’t leave you alone. It’s my job to help those in need. You need me.”

She looks at him and it’s like he’s been hit right in the gut. She’s beautiful. Her face is streaked with tears, her hair unkempt, and her eyes gleam with pain, but to him, she’s immaculate.

“Why?” She asks. “How... how did you find me?”

He’s struck again. He falters just a little bit. He thinks of telling her the truth. Of telling her everything. He can’t. If he does, she’ll be afraid. He couldn’t take that. He couldn’t handle her looking at him like everyone else does.

“Sometimes we just find who we’re meant to,” he says and believes it.

She sniffles and squeezes the pillow tighter. She rests her cheek against the top and stares off at the wall. He knows even talking is too much for her right now.

He goes to the door and picks up his arm. He looks down at the black and gold vibranium as he pulls shut the inner door, the outer one is broken. He lays his prosthetic on the corner of the bed, out of her way, and pauses to feel the thin mattress. He puts pressure on it and the frame creaks. Not good enough.

He stands straight and goes into the kitchen. The counter is cleared. He opens the cupboard and sees it all. She calls his name but he ignores her. Why was she so upset? It’s more than just her hip. He pulls out the box of macaroni. Inside, the packet of cheese is divided into three separate baggies, the noodles too.

He squints and puts it back. He takes out the oats and the rice. It’s all the same. It’s all portioned down but not nearly enough to sate. She’s rationing. He sets the boxes back and grabs the sugar dish. It’s empty. The box of green tea has only three packets left. Tea is an appetite suppressant; she’s gone through it so fast, he can guess why.

His heart drops. He ate more than this in the 30s. A mayo sandwich was much more appetizing than a quarter packets of quick oats. He looks around and nears the fridge.

“Bucky, please, don’t,” she calls to him. He stops. There’s a piece of paper under the magnet.

‘After review, your government allowance has been recalculated...’

He swipes the paper from under the magnet and reads it. They took more than a quarter of her usual stipend. How could they do that? He saw her shopping cart, he’s seen how she eats, how she lives. Why would they do this to her?

He wants to tear it up but he knows that won’t change anything. She continues to groan on the fold out bed, the frame squeaking with her sobs. He peers over at the bathroom door. He doesn’t need to look inside at the grimy shower barely big enough for her.

None of this is good enough for her. She’s all alone here. And now they’re trying to starve her out. That’s what they do. If you’re not useful, they abandon you.

Fuck that.

He marches around the couch and searches around. He grabs an empty tote hanging by the door and goes to the little plastic drawers. He reaches inside and stuffs as much into the bag as he can. She babbles his name. She sits up, watching him.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. He can’t. He’s so fucking angry, he might scream and he doesn’t want to frighten her. He strides across the basement apartment and into the bathroom. He grabs her toothbrush, her brush, whatever he can. He opens the cabinet and finds the pill bottles. Two tablets. The rest are empty.

He comes back out and takes his arm off the worn mattress. He snaps it in place and throws a blanket over her. She whimpers as she gapes at him. He hooks the bag over his shoulder and scoops her up, keeping the blanket snug around her.

“Wait, Bucky, what’s happening?” She whines.

“You can’t stay here,” he says as he feels around until he finds the top of her cane. He grips it and turns it in his grip, angling it with him as he moves around the couch.

“No, what—where are you taking me?”

“You deserve better.”

“Please, Bucky,” she murmurs, “I...”

“I don’t judge you, doll,” he goes to the door and works around her to open it, “I judge those bastards.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lost my god—my arm for those people. I went to war. I went through hell,” he growls as he stomps out, stopping short as he sees the motorcycle parked outside. Shit. She can’t ride that. “But they gave me a new arm, they gave me a new life, but what did they do for you?”

She gulps and he hears her heart pick up. She’s embarrassed. She shouldn’t be.

“I told you, I help those who need me,” he takes her down the alleyway. “It’s okay to need people.”

He comes out to pavement and looks up and down the street. He’ll get a cab. That’s the easiest way. He’d walk but she needs to lay down. She needs a hot bath and a proper bed. She’s suffered enough.

Reader

Bucky waves the cane from under you and finally hails a cab. He approaches with you in his arms and you keep your head down. You feel like everyone’s staring. That’s what they do when he’s around.

He gets you in the back seat and rearranges you with the bag and your cane. There’s a tick in his jaw that worries you. You’ve seen that in men before. You’re distracted from the reminder as your hip pangs again.

You shakily buckle your seat belt as the driver shifts into gear and joins the slow stream of New York traffic. Bucky sits slightly forward, the seat belt straining on his chest, watching through the windshield impatiently. His fingertips tap together as his lips move noiselessly.

“Bucky,” you say his name.

He looks over at you and the tension drains from his jaw, “hey, doll, sorry I... I’m just thinking. You need something?”

“Where are we going?” You ask again.

He tilts his head, his brows lowering, “home.”

“Your place?” You ask as you shift and rub your hip.

He nods, “yeah, my place.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He echoes.

“Why?”

He looks away and his cheeks tug down, “I saw the letter. The food. You... you can’t live like that.”

“But--”

“I told you,” he grits. “No more arguing. You need to relax. If you keep tensing up, you’re only gonna make it worse.”

He’s right. You sniff and try to ease your muscles. The slow crawl of traffic has you jerking with the driver’s brakes. Bucky warns him to take it easy.

When at last you reach your destination, he pays and tips the driver. He gets you to the edge of the seat, taking the bag and cane too. You wave him off and grab the cane. He lets you have it and you stand. You stumble and grab onto him with your other hand to get up on the curb.

Your gait is stunted, more than usual as each step sends a ripple through your hip. You look up at the walk-up and stop at the bottom of the steep stairs. You stare at them, defeated.

“I’ll get you up,” he says.

You hang your head, “it’s just gonna be one thing after another. Can’t do this, can’t do that... take me home.”

He ignores you and wraps his arm around your back. He urges you onward, supporting most of your weight as you climb. You get to the top and he punches in a code on a keypad beneath the door handle. It opens and he angles you inside.

It’s a nice place. A townhouse. The kind you could never afford. The walls have that vintage brick look and the floors are real hardwood. The front room is plaster painted in sky blue and the trim matches the floors. It’s all so much nicer than your life. You feel even less welcome.

“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs,” he says as he finishes unlacing his boots. You have only your socks on.

“Upstairs?” You repeat.

“Bathtub is up there,” he says. He stands and puts his arms out, “can I?”

You look away and nod. You can’t do any more stairs. He lifts you carefully and you rest the can over you. He carries you up the stairs and down the hall. You weigh nothing in his arms.

“The room next to this, that’s mine. I’ll change the bedding, put your bag in there.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I—I don’t sleep in there. I don’t really sleep at all,” he takes you into the bathroom and sits you carefully on the toilet seat. “It’s not too far. If you need anything, say my name.” He stands up and puts his hands on my hips, “you don’t even gotta yell. I can hear through the walls.”

You look up at him. How could you forget how special he is. He has that serum in him.

“Okay.”

He looks over at the tub and chews his lip, “you... you good?”

“I can manage,” you realise he’s asking if you need help.

“Well, when you get out, don’t hesitate to call for help.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You know,” he begins abruptly, even before you finish the last syllable, “I don’t think any of what you think I do. You’re not weak. You remind me of the strongest person I know, you might’ve heard of him,” he scoffs, “Steve Rogers. Not Cap, Steven Grant Rogers. Skinny kid I grew up with in Brooklyn. Weighed as much as a piece of hay. He didn’t need the serum. He was strong. Like you.”

You want to laugh. You put your head down and sigh, “that’s nice--”

“I’m not lying to you. I wouldn’t lie to you,” he says.

You feel more tears tingling. You rub your cheek and glance over at the tub. The thought of a bath and is intoxicating. Just a little relief.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you say, “you really didn’t have to do all this.”

“I did,” he insists, “someone shoulda done it sooner but the world ain’t what it used to be. Neighbours aren’t your neighbours.”

“It’s not... It’s my problem--”

“It’s not a problem,” he says. “I’ll bring in a fresh towel before you hop in.”

#bucky barnes #dark buck barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #fic #the lonely souls club #marvel #mcu #avengers #falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #dark fic #dark!fic

143 notes · View notes

onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year ago

Text

Playing Pretend (Part 4)

A afternoon of polo brings out some people's competitive side.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.9k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of champagne, me not knowing a damn thing about polo, tension & pining & being oblivious

A/N: Oops, finished this faster than I expected, hope no one minds too much! 😘

Series Masterlist

The disgust on Roy’s face was nothing short of comical.

“Polo? They’re playing fucking polo? Fucking rich people.”

You smiled and shook your head at him. “You don’t have to play, Roy. It’s usually just Jim’s cousins and some uncles. The rest of us just sit around and drink champagne and eat sandwiches and cookies. Absolute Downton Abbey shit. Jim’s family always play at big events. It’s actually kind of fun.” You poked Roy in the stomach playfully. “Especially because Jim sucks at riding. There’s a good chance we see him fall of his horse.”

“Fuck it. I’m in.”

The two of you were sitting on the bed in your room, still clad in pyjamas, chatting about what the day would involve as early morning sunshine streamed in through the window. People would be arriving for the rehearsal dinner throughout the day, but most of Jim’s family would arrive in the morning for their polo game. Then would be the rehearsal, out in the garden where the ceremony would be held, followed by dinner in what Jim’s mum called “the big dining room”- actually a small ballroom.

As you talked, sharing a bit about Jim’s family that he’d be seeing that day, Roy felt his body relax more than he’d felt in a long time. Lounging in bed together in pyjamas, whispering in tired voices, exchanging soft laughter. It was the kind of domestic scene he found himself craving every time he saw you. He could almost picture the two of you in his own room, you wearing his old Sunderland hoodie, wrapped up in each other and sharing sleepy kisses before heading downstairs so he could make breakfast.

Instead, you rolled your eyes as you told him about a couple of Jim’s girl cousins. “Just be aware, they’ll be all over you,” you warned. “When I was dating Jim and they found out I was friends with Roy Kent, they begged me to introduce them to you because you’re sooo fit.” Your voice went mocking and high-pitched on those last two words. “I don’t think you being my fake boyfriend will change anything.” You gave him a playful shove. “Sorry, mate. You’ll have to wait until after our fake break-up to hook up with any of them.”

Roy scoffed and shook his head. “Fuck that. I’d never want to hang around anyone who shares fucking Jim’s DNA.” Resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss you, he instead poked you affectionately on the nose. “Besides, I’m not focused on anyone but you this weekend, got that?”

You smiled at Roy, again feeling safe and protected in his presence. “Roy Kent, you are my favorite person in the fucking world, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Roy smiled, ignoring the warmth in his chest as he dared to push some hair out of your face. “D’you want to shower first, or should I?”

Roy’s hand rested on your bare knee as the two of you sat outside with Jen and her husband. People were slowly making their way to where tables and umbrellas had been set up for people to hang out while some of the cousins and uncles played polo.

You turned your head and caught Roy staring at you. “What?” you whispered, wondering if you’d spilled something on the sundress you wore.

He shook his head. “Nothin’.” After a moment, he said, “Did I tell you that you look really fucking pretty today?”

Oh. He was being “boyfriend Roy”. “Roy-friend”, you thought with an internal chuckle. He was probably getting into character because Jim was approaching your table, already red in the face before the match even started.

He raised his eyebrows at Roy. “Not playing, Kent?”

Roy wrinkled his nose. “Why the fuck would I?”

“Just figured the big football star might be up for a challenge,” Jim answered, looking quite pleased with the idea that he would be out there playing, and Roy Kent would be sitting on the sidelines. “But hey, if you don’t think you could handle it…” He trailed off with a haughty shrug.

With a deep sigh, Roy sat up straight. “I don’t feel like violating my fucking contract, Jim. Not supposed to engage in anything that might get me hurt, like riding a fucking horse that doesn’t know me with a bunch of rich pricks. ’m kind of fucking valuable to my team.” His grip on your knee tightened. “So poor old Roy has to sit here with a gorgeous woman all afternoon drinking champagne and letting her feed me little fucking cookies while you’ve got your legs wrapped around a horse, which’ll be the only riding you’ll do all day.” His giant fake smile made you want to laugh. “But please, tell me more about what a wanker I am for not playing your little fucking game.”

Jim mumbled something about needing to go check on his horse before stomping off, leaving your sister and brother-in-law watching Roy with raised eyebrows.

“Seriously,” Paul commented, raising his glass in jest, “one of you is going to throw a punch before the end of this weekend, and I almost feel bad for Jim if it’s you.” Paul had made no secret of his own disdain for Jim, something Roy greatly appreciated.

Jen chimed in, “Maybe just make sure it’s after the actual ceremony. Lauren’ll have a fit if Jim’s got a black eye in the wedding pictures.” She raised her eyebrows at you sympathetically. “Especially if it’s because of you.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t be marrying her sister’s ex-boyfriend then,” you grumbled, low enough that only Roy could hear.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Will it make you feel better to feed me cookies like I said?” he asked, his low voice full of teasing. “It’ll look fucking adorable. Everyone’ll think we’re absolutely insufferable.”

You cracked a smile. “Insufferable sounds fun.” You picked a biscuit off the plate Roy had loaded with sweets before sitting down. “Open up, Kent.”

Roy did as he was told, holding your gaze as he opened his mouth. Your fingers lightly brushed against his lips as he took a bite, sending a jolt of electricity to your heart. Even with all the fake kisses you’d been exchanging, you were still surprised to feel how fucking soft Roy’s lips were. He laughed softly as he finished chomping on the biscuit, leaving a couple little crumbs on his beard that you couldn’t resist wiping away with your thumb. As you pulled back, his hand caught your wrist. Still watching you with an intensity that made your jaw slack ever-so-slightly, he turned his head and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to the palm of your hand.

You were right, Roy thought. Insufferable was fun.

He loved the way you giggled when he kissed your hand. It lit up your entire face, especially your eyes. That was probably his favorite thing about this whole fucking weekend: seeing the joy on your face when he made you laugh, giving you a small distraction from whatever other feelings you were having.

“Hey,” he murmured as the polo players got ready to start. “I know this isn’t the most ideal of circumstances but…” He shrugged. “I’m having a fucking good time with you. Some of the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

“Me, too,” you admitted, noticing the way he still held your hand by his face. “I always have a good time with you, Roy.”

He opened his mouth to tell you that he always had a good time with you too, that maybe the two of you could have a good time together when you got home, maybe at a restaurant, and he could wear a tie and you could wear this dress because it was driving him fucking mad, and he could pay for dinner and maybe give you a real kiss when he walked you home after, when the sound of cheering interrupted the two of you; the game was starting. You could see Roy’s jaw clench and his eyes narrow at Jim.

Huh. You never did find out why Roy hated him so much. You just knew that when you’d started bringing Jim around, Roy got even moodier than usual. You’d asked his sister several times about it, figuring he’d had to have said something to her, but she never quite gave a straight answer: Jim’s too posh for his taste, he looked at Roy funny one time, he mentioned being a casual Arsenal supporter, he ate the last kebab at a party. But none of it made sense; he’d rolled his eyes the very moment you walked into that pub holding Jim’s hand, ready to introduce your new boyfriend to your best friends.

“Roy?”

His mouth curved into a smile at the sound of his name. “Hmm?”

You tilted your head, wondering how to ask. Better just say it. No use being timid with someone as blunt as Roy. “Why did you hate Jim so much? When we were dating, I mean?”

Roy’s eyes flickered to Jen and Paul, who were watching the match and chatting. “Obviously it’s because I was in love with you,” he blurted awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Right?”

You leaned closer, whispering in his ear. “No, I mean, like really. As my friend, not my ‘boyfriend’.” You raised your eyebrows expectantly.

In all the years you’d known Roy Kent, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him squirm until now. “Dunno,” he murmured, absently stroking your hand with his thumb. “Guess I just… didn’t think he fucking deserved you.” He finally looked you in the eye. “Honestly, no one deserves you. You’re the fucking best.”

Fucking Roy. Every now and then he’d say something like that- very sweet, almost loving things. Things that gave you a glimmer of hope that maybe he might see you as something other than just his sister’s best friend or the little girl he used to play with in the garden when he was a boy. But then you’d remember that that little boy grew up to be Roy Kent. And you’d feel lucky to just be friends with him- even though it sometimes made your heart ache.

“You’re sweet,” you managed, turning your attention to the polo game, pretending like watching your almost-in-laws ride their horses was suddenly interesting. “You’ve always been sweet to me.”

He gave your hand a squeeze and followed your gaze. “You’ve always been easy to be sweet to,” he said simply. After a long pause, he spoke again. “Feed me another cookie?”

You choked back a laugh and held up the plate to him. “Feed me one at the same time. It’ll be the most obnoxious thing in the world.”

A grin spread across his face as he grabbed a sweet, one he knew you liked. “You’re fucking brilliant.”

After the polo game (during which Jim fell twice, much to Roy’s delight), most people lingered on the lawn while the players disappeared into the house to shower. Jen and Paul excused themselves to go inside so they could FaceTime your nephew, who was with Paul’s mum.

You and Roy exchanged eyerolls when Lauren jumped into Jim’s arms in a particularly show-offish manner, squealing loud enough to get everyone’s attention, as if he’d won the world championship or something, rather than lost a game against his aging uncles.

“Should have you run out onto the pitch like that after a match sometime and snog me in front of everyone,” Roy mumbled without thinking. He froze and looked at you, his thick eyebrows arched. “If you wanted to, I mean.”

“That actually sounds fun,” you laughed, hoping you sounded casual. “Yeah, if you ever get sick of having gorgeous models run into your arms, I’d be happy to fill in. Getting plenty of practice this weekend.” Trying to prove that kissing Roy Kent was not a big deal, you leaned forward and touched your lips to his quickly.

He knew his face was tinted pink. “I actually think I am sick of the whole model thing,” he admitted. “So maybe I will have to ask you to sub in sometime.” His voice was light, a sharp contrast to the heavy pressure he suddenly felt in his chest.

“Oh.” That was all you could say. Roy was tired of models and actresses and the gorgeous women who hung around him? What the fuck did that mean? Before you could ask Roy more about it, one of your uncles came up to say hello, shaking Roy’s hand with enthusiasm and asking him about the upcoming season. Taking advantage of the opportunity to escape those brown eyes you kept reminding yourself not to get too lost in, you excused yourself to find a free restroom.

While rounding the corner into an empty hall, you found yourself alone, for the first time all weekend, with Jim, still in his polo clothes.

“Hey,” you greeted, offering an awkward wave. “Good job, uh, polo-ing out there. Hope your arse is okay from those falls you took.”

To your surprise, Jim snorted. “Bit surprised you saw anything with your face attached to Roy Kent’s,” he replied sharply.

You shrugged with a shy chuckle. “Hey, like Roy said last night, we’re in that dreadful all-over-each-other phase. Not nearly as much fun to watch as it is to participate, unfortunately for all of you.”

“I’m sure.” He folded his arms, giving you a hard stare. “So, you and Roy.”

“Me and Roy,” you repeated with a firm nod.

Jim sighed, shaking his head. “You know, I always thought the two of you-”

You sneered, knowing exactly what he was about to say. “Oh, save it. Nothing ever happened between us when you and I were together. He was just a friend. I always told you that.”

“Yeah, but all those times you hung out-”

“Sorry, where’d you meet your bride-to-be?” you snapped, eyebrows raised. “Oh, right, the first Christmas I brought you home to meet my family.” You shook your head. “If anyone should be asking that question, it’s me.”

Jim scoffed. “Hey, don’t you dare-”

“Oi.” You whipped around. Roy stood at the end of the hallway, eyebrows furrowed as he observed you carefully. “There a fucking problem here?”

You quickly shook your head, making your way over to him. “Nope. Just telling Jim that we enjoyed the polo match.”

Roy’s arm wrapped around your waist tightly, protectively. “Oh, yeah. Fucking loved it. Do people usually fall off their horse twice? Or does that take special skill that only a seasoned player like yourself can achieve?”

“Oh, fuck off, Kent. Go kick around a football or something,” Jim mumbled as he yanked open one of the doors, slamming it behind him.

Once the hall quieted, Roy pulled you into a proper hold, one hand on each of your hips. “You alright? Fuck was that about?”

You shrugged, letting your body melt into his as your hands rested on his arms- arms you always spent far too much time thinking about. “Just Jim being Jim.”

“And what does that entail?” He smirked. “Besides being a massive twat, of course.”

A snort flew out of your nose. Roy thought it was adorable. “Oh, just once again accusing me and you of fooling around behind his back because he saw us kissing during the polo match.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “He knows you’re not the sister he’s marrying tomorrow, right? I mean, I know the man was a fucking idiot-”

You shook your head, now completely holding back laughter. “When he and I dated, I mean,” you clarified, trying to ignore the fact that Roy Kent was holding you and making you laugh like it was the most natural thing in the world. “He was always accusing you of being interested in me.” You gazed up at Roy through your lashes, unaware of the way it made his heart skip a beat, although he swore you had to feel it with the way your bodies were pressed together. “Silly, innit?”

The words caught in Roy’s throat. No, not silly at all. He was completely right, the fucking wanker. I was in love with you. Still fucking am. Probably always will be. That’s why I hate him- because he had you. Because he knows what it’s like to have you love him back. And that’s the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.

Instead, he gave an awkward little laugh. “Oh. Ha. Fucking idiot.” He swore he saw your face fall for a fraction of a second. “Jim, of course. Not you.” Roy lifted a hand to cradle your face. “Never you,” he promised in that reassuring voice you always believed.

The two of you stood there for a long moment, holding each other, neither quite sure what to say. There was an electricity in the air that you were both too scared to bring attention to, although you could both feel each other’s heart beat just a bit faster. You were both thinking the same thing: What if I’m wrong? What if I’m imagining it? What if I’m the biggest idiot in the world?

But fuck, what if I’m right?

Before either of you could decide what to do, the chiming of a nearby grandfather clock brought you both back to reality.

“We should go change for the rehearsal dinner,” you whispered, realizing you’d been holding your breath.

Roy nodded. “Yeah. We should.” Reluctantly, he let go of you, ready to head back to your room, suddenly too shy to grab your hand.

To his surprise and absolute delight, you reached out and grabbed it yourself.

#roy kent playing pretend #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

417 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago

Text

NO HEARTBREAK

A/N: i can't believe i actually finished this fic, but here we are! hope you can still take some holiday spirit, this was originally planned for fanficmas, but i got stuck with it, so i put it aside, but now its here!

PAIRING: Harry x PA!reader

WORD COUNT: 9.7k

WARNING: mention of alcoholic parent

SUMMARY: You planned to spend the holidays alone, just like you always do. However, your boss had other ideas.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You unpack the chicken sandwich you planned to eat hours ago, but you haven’t gotten around to actually do it. Now it’s past six and you’re finally having a breather and have the chance to eat your lunch. It’s gotten saggy, kind of melted together, but you’re famished at this point and you’d eat just about anything.

Just as you bite into it, the door you exited through just minutes ago flings open.

“Y/N? Harry is asking for you,” an assistant from the venue walks up to you with an apologetic look when she sees that you’re eating.

“What could he possibly need?” you groan with your mouth full.

“H-He didn’t say, he just—“

“Of course he didn’t, because he is being a brat,” you roll your eyes, swallowing the bite before taking another one. You decide he is alright waiting one more minute, his dressing room is probably not on fire, so it can’t be that urgent.

Seemingly, the assistant is shocked that you just called him a brat, for one because he is your boss and for two because he is literally known to be the nicest person alive.

He really is. But sometimes he just knows exactly how to get on your nerves.

While still eating, you head inside, dodging any questions flying in your direction.

“I’m on my lunch break!” you tell everyone, waving at them in dismiss.

“It’s six twenty,” you hear someone mumble in confusion, but you just shrug as you eat your sandwich, heading to Harry’s dressing room.

You don’t knock, just walk in and though the assistant that’s been following you like a minion sprints right out of the room when she sees Harry only in his underwear, you don’t even flinch as you step inside.

“Yeah, you’re not on fire,” you sigh, to which he gives you a puzzled look, but you just shake your head. “What did you want? I’m on my lunch break,” you say, kicking the door shut before taking another bite from your sandwich.

“It’s almost half past six.”

“And I didn’t have time to eat since my so called boss left his phone in his hotel, so I had to do an extra round back there aside my usual tasks,” you answer with a fake smile.

“Come on, don’t be so grumpy!” He steps closer, wanting to cradle your face in his hands but you swat them away.

“What do you want!” you repeat.

“I can’t find my shoes.”

You stare back at him with a blank look on your face before speaking up.

“Have you checked in the box that has ‘shoes’ written on it?” you ask.

“Yeah, but I didn’t find it.”

Bullshit. You already know it’s there, he is just doing this to get on your nerves, because that’s his hobby. He loves pissing you off as if it was his job and then he also loves begging for your forgiveness, which you give him every damn time.

That’s your dynamic. And you love it.

“Hold this,” you say, handing him the half eaten sandwich before walking over to the shoe box. “You’re giving me a raise if I find it in here.”

“I’m already paying you a ridiculous amount.”

“Because I deserve it for putting up with you.”

You dig into the box, knowing exactly which pair he needs for tonight’s outfit and in the meantime, he stands over you, still in his outfit and you’re trying to ignore that tiny little fact. Pushing a few shoes aside you catch a glimpse of the pair you need and you pull it out with a sigh.

“How about a Christmas bonus?” you ask, holding the shoes up for him as you stand up, hand them over and then take your sandwich from him before flopping down onto the couch.

“You know you always get a Christmas bonus,” he comments as he steps over to the clothes rack with the lazy intention of getting dressed. Over your sandwich, you allow yourself to steal a few glimpses of his naked torso and legs before they get covered by his outfit.

You hate how it makes you feel every damn time, even after four years of knowing him. How your body betrays you when your head is trying to do the right thing and forget about the feelings you’ve been harboring for your boss for so long. It’s such a cliché, almost kind of ridiculous, but luckily, no one knows about it and if it depends on you, you’ll take this to the grave with yourself.

“Speaking of Christmas, you know when you’re leaving?” he asks, tugging his shirt over his head.

“What do you mean?”

“When are you going home to your family?”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” you nonchalantly say before swallowing the last bite of your sandwich.

“What? So… your family comes here?”

“Nope.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about? Where are you spending the holidays?”

“At home.”

“But you just said that you’re not going home.”

“No, you asked if I’m going home to my family. I said I’m not going anywhere.”

“Would you stop pulling my leg and just tell me what I want to hear?” he groans and for once he’s the one who’s annoyed with you.

“I’m not spending Christmas with family. I’ll be just… in my apartment, probably watching The Office, eating gingerbread.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?” he asks in disbelief. “You mean to tell me you’ll be alone for the holidays?”

“Yeah. Just like for the past few years. It’s no big deal,” you shrug, but it blows his mind.

“The past—what?! You’ve been alone all these years? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You never asked.”

“Jesus, woman!” he scoffs. “What’s… Why? I know that you never met your dad and your mom… has passed, but you must have some kind of family.”

“Not really,” you simply say. Harry stares at you and it’s obvious he has a lot of questions, but he remains silent for a couple of minutes before speaking up.

“Spend it with me then.”

Now it’s your turn to look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Huh?”

“Come home with me for the holidays,” he repeats, squeezing himself into his pants.

“Uh-huh, nice joke,” you snort out a laugh.

“I’m not joking. I know my mum would be glad to have you for Christmas, Gemma has been asking me about you too, she would love to see you again. So just spend the holidays with us.”

“I’m not family, I won’t just… crash your time at home.”

“Oh come on! First of all, you are family. You’ve spent more time with me in the past four years than my actual mother and sister. And second, you wouldn’t be crashing. I’m inviting you, so I obviously want you there.”

You stand from the couch and dump the wrapping paper of your late lunch into the trash before walking over to him.

“No,” is all you say to him.

“No?”

“No, I’m not going home with you. Now don’t disturb me unless your pants are on fire. I have shit to do before you go on stage.”

And with that you just walk out.

The show passes by smoothly and you watch part of it from the pit like you usually do, following Harry’s jumping form around the stage, ignoring how wildly your heart is beating every time he’s scanning over the crowd where you’re standing. In an arena full of thousands of people, you can still feel like you and him are the only ones.

It’s clear to you that you can’t spend the holidays with him and his family. It would cause your heart to break beyond repair and though you’re good with keeping up the tough look, you wouldn’t survive a hit this painful.

Harry has the most loving and supportive family you’ve ever seen, that’s why he could become the person he is today with a heart bigger than life. You would get a glimpse of what you never experienced and what you’ll never have. Him, all the love he receives and gives, the big happy family that surrounds him even in his worst moments. You’d have to come home to your lonesome, work filled life and realize just how much you crave to be loved like you were never before.

Your job is your life, because being around Harry brings you some warmth and life, a sliver of what you’ve always craved.

You go backstage before the show is over to get everything ready for him to leave once he zooms off the stage. Busying yourself so when he bursts into his dressing room he doesn’t have the chance to bring your visit up again.

“You’re oddly silent,” he comments in the car, riding back to the hotel that you’ll be leaving in the morning.

“Just tired,” you shrug, hoping he wouldn’t push you, but you should know it by now that’s not possible with him.

“Is it about my invitation? I meant it, I want you to come and—“

“I’m not going, Harry,” you snap, probably a bit harsher than you intended. When you get his silence in reply, regret sinks into the pit of your stomach, but you keep your mouth shut.

Tour carries on and you dread to reach the end of it, because it means Harry will go on a break so you have to go on a break too. It’s the downside of being a personal assistant, you need to line your life up with your boss’.

Harry hasn’t brought Christmas up since you declined his invitation so you’re convinced he accepted your choice.

The last show blows the arena up, he sings Kiwi three times and you watch him with a swelling chest as he puts everything he has into pleasing his fans. You drink up the sight of him on stage, because you won’t see it until you get back on the road next year.

“How was it?” Harry asks out of breath as you match his fast steps towards the dressing room.

“You’re always great, why do you ask me every time?”

“Because I like hearing it from you,” he grins, shaking his jacket off himself and you catch it before it could land on the floor.

Everything goes as usual, you pack up, head back to the hotel and get ready to leaving in the morning only that this time you’re going home and Harry leaves to the UK. There’s one week left until Christmas and according to his schedule that you know like the back of your hand because you put it together, he won’t return to the States until the third of January.

You ring him up in the morning, making sure he is up and then you meet everyone at the lobby for checking out.

“You have your tickets ready?” Harry asks, a smug grin on his annoyingly handsome face as he pokes at your bag.

“What, did you turn into my assistant?” you sass at him, which just makes him laugh.

“Just making sure,” he shrugs and walks away to talk to Mitch and you eye him with suspicion.

And you should have gotten more into it, because the picture clicks together when you part way at the airport. Harry is taking a private jet home while you fly commercial so you need to go to your gate from the lounge after your rounds of goodbye.

You hand your ticket to the flight attendant, she scans it and then comes the shit storm.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but it seems like your ticket has been cancelled.”

“What?” Blood dries out of your face.

“It’s not valid anymore.”

“Shouldn’t I have been notified about such a change?”

“It was a customer cancelation, not from our side.”

“A customer… That fuck…” you growl as realization sets in. “Great, amazing. If you excuse me, I’ll just go and kill my boss.”

You step out of the line and grabbing your carry on you march back to the lounge where Harry is supposed to me. And he is, smugly sitting in the same spot you left him, sipping on a drink.

“What the fuck did you do?!” you stand in front of him with your hands on your hips, but all you get is a grin.

“Y/N, aren’t you gonna miss your flight?”

“Stop with the bullshit, you cancelled my ticket!”

“Me? Oh, I would never do such thing!” He puts the glass down and stands, tucking his hands into his pockets as he looks down at you with a smirk you’re not sure you want to slap or kiss off his face. “So, you’re gonna have to come with me. You can’t get stuck here, there’s no other flight back to New York today.”

“And how would you know that if you didn’t check?”

“Just a feeling,” he shrugs. “Come on, we can board the jet now. You’re coming home with me!”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, but you shake it off and stand still. He is not getting away with it this easily.

“Harry, I’m not going home with you.”

“Yes, you are. I already arranged everything,” he shrugs and it just infuriates you even more.

“Fuck off.”

“Y/N, board the jet with me. You’re coming home with me.” His tone drops and you swear you’ve never seen him this determined about anything. Looking around you notice that people start to pick up the scene that is about to unfold, but you’re not one to cause public drama. Harry knows that.

“You’re a fucking child, you know that?” you hiss through your teeth as you catch up with him, a smug grin plastering across his annoyingly handsome face.

“This child is your boss and you love him.”

“I fucking hate you.”

He tries to put his arm around your shoulders again, you shake it off and go ahead, hearing his laughter that just makes you hate him even more.

Or love him.

The flight is long, but you sleep through most of it. You wake a few hours before landing and pulling out your laptop you try to work some on Harry’s schedule for January, but before you could get into it, he slams it shut and takes away.

“Hey! What are you doing?” you groan as he sits across you, hugging your device to his chest with a smug look.

“No working, we’re off the clock. I’m holding onto this until after Christmas.”

“No, you’re not. That’s my personal laptop so I need it back.”

His face falls as he realizes it’s not something he got you for the job and not too willingly, but hands you back.

“Put it away though. No work until after Christmas, I mean it.”

“You’re awfully obsessed about how I spend my holidays all of a sudden.”

“Just want you to have a good time.”

“And what makes you think I’m not good on my own in my apartment?”

“Because I know you,” he simply answers before standing up and walking to the back of the jet.

You land safely and make it through the airport, meeting Gemma as you walk through the doors of the terminal and you’re not even surprised she’s been expecting to see you. It was all planned out probably way ahead.

“Good to see you again!” she smiles, pulling you into a quick hug.

“Same, though it would be better if you didn’t play along with your scheming brother,” you narrow your eyes at her.

“You belong here, Y/N. I would have hit him if I found out he let you alone for the holidays.”

“Great, both Styles kids are against me,” you scoff.

“Stop being a drama queen and get your ass into the car,” Harry pokes your side before wrapping his sister in a hug.

You sit in the back on the ride and listen to the siblings catching up, occasionally chiming into the conversation. You try to focus on the scenery that’s passing by you, but you often find yourself stealing looks at Harry. The change in him is already visible, he has switched out of work mode and into break mode, he’s a lot looser and carefree and you wonder if he’s been dreading this break for a long time. He always stretches himself to his full capacity and you find yourself worrying about him overworking himself and not giving himself enough time to recharge.

“Wait, where are we… Where are we going?” you ask when you finally process that this is not the way to Anne’s.

“To my place,” Harry simply answers. “Why?”

“Why not Anne’s? You always spend Christmas at hers, don’t you?”

“She doesn’t have enough room to accommodate both of us, one of her girlfriends is temporarily living with her until January, so we’re staying at mine and just go over,” he explains and your heart starts racing instantly. You’ll be locked in Harry’s London home, just the two of you. Alone.

It’s not your first time in his London home, but definitely the first time staying over, being his guest. It’s already stressing you out.

“Thanks for the ride, Gem,” Harry hugs her upon arriving at his place.

“No problem. See you at mum’s on the twenty-fourth?”

“Of course.”

You’re busying yourself with your bags, but you catch her whispering something in his ear and you wonder what kind of secret can’t you hear, but you don’t want to be nosy.

“Bye Gemma,” you smile at her as she gets back into her car.

“Try not to kill each other!” she chuckles through the rolled down window.

“Give me that,” Harry snatches your big suitcase from your hands, leaving several of his bags on the porch just to bring yours in first.

It hasn’t changed since you’ve last been here a few months ago, but Harry himself was only one time here since then. You always feel in awe here, because it’s so uniquely Harry, this house reflects his taste the absolute most. His LA home is humongous and modern, but this is what feels the most like him with mismatched vintage furniture mixed with some modern ones, lots of trinkets and decoration everywhere you go and a bunch of framed photos of him with friends and family. Walking around in here feels like invading his mind in a sense, but you were invited here, so you’re just enjoying the intimate glimpse for now.

Harry shows you his guest bedroom that’s right next to his room, it’s nice and cozy and you have your own bathroom.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warns you just when you sit on the edge of the bed, bouncing on it gently.

“Why?”

“Because we have things to do. Come on, let’s go.”

“Harry, we literally just arrived, what could be so important that we can’t even unpack?”

Christmas shopping.

Harry drags you on a shopping spree where you buy all kinds of Christmas decorations, ornaments, garlands and lights to cover every possible corner of his house. When you’re done with that, you go grocery shopping to stock up the fridge and pantry that’s now empty. You buy so much food it would be enough for three families until the end of the year. On the way you find out only half of it was meant to make it home, on the way Harry simply stops at a homeless shelter and drops everything off. He doesn’t try to document it or draw attention to himself, you know it’s not what it is about for him.

He even asks for a list of things they would need and promises to drop by with them later. When you’re heading back to his place you can’t stop staring at him and he notices it too.

“What?�� he chuckles with a tint of blush on his cheeks.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, but then add: “You’re such a good man.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods shortly, acknowledging what you said.

Arriving home you carry everything inside and you want nothing than to take a nap maybe, jetlag is starting to kick in, but Harry has other plans.

“What, how do you think all this decoration will be put up?”

You groan and act like a drama queen, but of course, help him with anything and everything. You work for hours, but it doesn’t feel that long. Harry does everything he can to annoy you, but it always turns into fits of laughter and you start sabotaging him too. Your banter is perfect and you totally forget just how tired you were feeling not long ago.

“I’ll order dinner while you finish these, what do you want?” he asks while you’re hanging the stockings over the fireplace.

“We literally just restocked your fridge, why don’t we cook something?”

“Because I always crave fast food when I’m jetlagged,” he shrugs, opening up the app on his phone. “Pizza?”

“Sure,” you nod.

About thirty minutes later you’re sitting by the kitchen island, eating extra cheesy pizza and drinking wine.

“You’re not actually mad at me for bringing you here, right?” he asks, peeking at you over his slice.

“I was at the airport.”

“Okay, but what about now? If you don’t want to be here I can book you a flight back or you can take the jet…”

You know you have all those options, he would drive you to the airport without hesitation at five in the morning and it might have occurred to you to leave, but now, as you’re sitting here with him you realize there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“No need. I’m… I’m happy to stay if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will have you!” he chuckles in relief. “You’ll always have a place here or wherever I am. I told you, you’re family.” Reaching over he tickles your ear, something he knows you hate, because it makes you giggle like a toddler, but he just laughs as you smack his hand away.

“Stop! My ears are off limits!” you protest.

Even though you’re around Harry 24/7, there’s not much alone time you actually get to spend with him. He’s always surrounded by people, his life is constantly buzzing and you don’t want to bother him when he has some private time for himself. But this time, it’s just the two of you having the most one-on-one time you’ve spent together probably ever.

Sitting by the kitchen island, the pizza is long gone when you’re still talking, the last drops of wine chilling in your glasses. The conversation flows easily and you hop from light topics to heavier ones and this is the version of Harry that truly makes it easy to fall for him.

“Can I ask you something?” he pops the question, turning towards you with his whole body on the stool.

“Sure.”

“Why were you so against spending the holidays with me? We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, we are,” you nod, avoiding to look at him.

“So then why would you choose going home alone instead of being with me and my family?”

Pursing your lips you push them from one side to the other, trying to come up with an answer, but there’s nothing that you’d willing to say out loud.

“Okay, I see this is a touchy subject. You don’t have to answer.”

Slipping off his stool he starts cleaning up and you feel bad for not answering his question, but you just can’t bring yourself to reveal this part of you to him just yet. You’re not one to get vulnerable easily even though Harry would be worthy of it.

You silently stand rom your stool and grab the wine glasses before loading them into the dishwasher. He is standing with his back facing you and for a moment you fight the urge to hug him from behind. It would be way too intimate and you’d never be in the position where you get to be that close to him, and the thought is so excruciating.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble under your breath, heading out of the kitchen, but his voice stops you.

“I meant it, Y/N.”

You turn around at the doorway and see him watching you, leaning against the edge of the counter.

“You’ll always have a place with me.”

You have no words to answer, so you just turn around and walk out.

Eleven hours of sleep completely wipes out the awkwardness of the last bits of your conversation from last night. Despite the long sleep, you feel disoriented, the jetlag is still kicking your butt and most likely Harry is fighting the same battle, because when you appear in the kitchen he is sipping on what smells like the strongest brew of coffee as he sits by the kitchen counter with his phone.

“Mornin’,” you clear your throat and grabbing a mug you pour some for yourself from the vintage pot before joining him.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Like a truck hit me,” you chuckle, rubbing your eyes.

“Do you have plans for today?”

“You’re asking that as if I planned to be here.”

“Alright, then get ready, we’re leaving in twenty. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

He did not joke.

After a quick breakfast the two of you make a round to get everything from the list the shelter gave you and you drop it off as promised. It gives you an insane boost for the day, seeing the volunteers be so grateful. He chats for a bit, gets to know the problems they face around winter time and you already know he will donate a fat amount to the shelter before Christmas morning.

He takes a group picture with the volunteers, but asks them not to post until after the holidays. People tend to look for the bad in pure acts and he knows well they would call him out for wanting clout.

Then you’re off for a last minute gift shopping, it’s quick, because Harry knows exactly what he wants to buy and where he can find them, so you get done with it before he could be spotted.

He has to drop off something for a friend at the ice rink that’s in front of the town hall for the Christmas Market, so that’s where you’re headed next. You don’t want to stay in the car so while Harry disappears, you wander to the side of the rink, watching the skaters, mostly kids. You watch the joy on their faces, the screams and laughs, you’re witnessing some great memories being made.

You wish you had some of these as well.

“You want to skate?”

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice Harry’s return.

“Huh?”

“You’re watching them so intently. We have time to skate a bit if you want,” he offers with a small smile.

“Oh, no. Let’s just go. People will recognize you and it will turn into a shit show,” you shrug, stepping away from the rink.

“I mean, there are about fifty people at most, don’t think it would get that bad. Come on, I’ll get us both a pair of skates.”

“Harry, I can’t skate,” you admit, not too willingly. “I never… I never learned how to skate.”

He looks back at you stunned, opens his mouth to say something but then closes it and your need to get away from the rink grows.

“Your mom never took you skating?” he then asks and you shake your head.

“She was busy getting drunk or pretending she was getting better at rehab for the third time,” you shrug, acting like it’s no big deal, but your childhood or the lack of a normal one has always stung. You just learned how to mask the pain.

Harry doesn’t speak as he nods shortly and the two of you head back to the car in silence. Arriving back to his home you’re desperate for some alone time so you lock yourself up in your room and end up taking a nap.

It’s dark outside when you wake up, your throat feels dry like a desert and you swear it feels like you slept for days, but when you check the time on your phone you see that it’s been just about two hours.

When you make your way downstairs you find Harry in the living room with a fake tree, ornaments and decorations littering across the floor everywhere you see as he is putting up the lights first.

“Hey,” you softly speak up to get his attention. He looks over his shoulder before finishing up with the lights before stepping back.

“Hi! Was I too loud? I’m sorry if I woke you up–”

“No, I didn’t hear a thing,” you smile back at him. “Can I help?”

“Sure!”

The two of you slowly dress the tree up, he has all kinds of ornaments, silly ones, vintage ones, even handmade ones, so it turns out colorful and mismatched, but it fits him and his home perfectly. You can’t even picture him to have one of those perfectly decorated modern trees.

“Hungry?” he then asks when you’re finished.

“Yeah.”

You cook together, though it’s mostly him, you’re just working under his hand because you don’t want to be useless. It’s quiet, usually your chit-chat is ongoing, but now you both keep away from conversing and you know it’s because of your comment about your mom earlier. You shouldn’t have been this blunt, it must have come off the wrong way.

“Hey, I’m sorry for what I said,” you speak up, leaning against the edge of the counter.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I shouldn’t have been that blunt, you couldn’t know… and I shouldn’t have said it, it’s not something I should be sharing…”

“Y/N, don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of,” he says, finally looking at you as he puts the knife down. “And I don’t want you to think that just because your past wasn’t that good your future can’t be different. I told you, you’re family for me and for a lot others in the crew.”

“It’s… You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble under your breath, refusing to look at him.

“But I do know, I know that you are part of my family and you don’t ever have to feel like you’re alone. Christmas, Easter or birthdays, you’re always welcomed here.”

There are no words that can describe what you’re feeling as he is looking at you with those beautiful eyes filled with warmth. There’s a sense of belonging that’s pulling you towards him, but you still have your walls up so you keep your distance even despite the strong urge to just throw yourself into his arms.

“Thank you,” is all you manage to say. Harry nods before turning back to the food.

You don’t talk about it again. By the time dinner is ready the mood has lightened and you’re back to your usual dynamic.

That night you go to sleep with mixed feelings. It’s great to spend the holiday somewhere where you’re wanted and welcomed. It’s been a long time since you felt this at home at Christmas, it’s been seven years since your mom died and for a while you spent the holidays with a friend of yours, but even then, you didn’t feel like you belonged there, it was more of a pity invite you got. You had a fallout not long after and the lonely times began. But Harry is not changing it all, for the first time in your life you actually feel like you’re surrounded with love and he didn’t just fly you out because he felt sorry for you, but because he actually wanted you here.

On the other hand however, you can’t ignore the bitter taste in your mouth, because the tiny voice in the back of your head keeps reminding you that nothing is forever and you should save yourself from heartbreak. No one loves you enough to stay long, that’s just how it’s always been and it will be like that in the future too. If you let yourself believe that Harry will be in your life forever, you’ll end up crying when he leaves, just like everyone else in your life did. You need to keep your distance, that’s why he can never know about your feelings for him you’ve been harboring.

“You’re here! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again!”

Anne pulls you into the most bone crushing hug ever when you walk into her house. Chuckling you wrap her in your arms as well.

“Hi Anne, thank you for having me.”

“No need to thank me, you’re family!” she waves in dismiss and you swallow back the bitterness, stepping to the side so she can greet her son as well. “I missed you so much!” she sighs and you can’t help but smile as you watch them hug. Harry’s embrace practically swallows his mom, it’s the cutest thing ever. You wonder what it’s like to have such a great mother.

Gemma is already there, cousins, aunts and uncles and a few of Anne’s friends as well. The place is packed, there’s food everywhere and though you know most of Harry’s family, you still feel odd on your own. However, you don’t spend much time left alone, Harry sticks to your side, easing your fears about crushing their family celebration. He is more touchy too, that you notice, his hand often lands on the small of your back, your shoulders or arm, physical connection is continuous throughout lunch and even during game time after. He always insists on being your partner whenever you have to team up for a game and you crush it every time. You spend so much time together, you can understand each other from just a look.

“It’s not fair!” one of his cousins groans following another one of your wins. “There’s a no couples rule and you are definitely one!”

You freeze right away, even though it was just a joke and everybody knows that. No one bats an eye, but Harry notices how tense you’ve become.

“Y/N, is everything–”

“I’m gonna have a breather,” you cut him off and get up from the floor. Grabbing your jacket you rush out to the back porch that’s empty, since it’s freezing cold out.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you zip your jacket and fold your arms over your chest. You can never be seen as a couple by others, you will never be together with Harry, not even if he happens to feel the same way you feel about him. This can never be more than just a friendship. It probably shouldn’t have turned into that in the first place, he is your boss, not a friend you hang out with for fun every day. You’re his assistant, you plan his trips, you buy his plane tickets, book his hotel rooms, keep in contact with his accountant and manager and housekeeper and everyone else that’s part of the Harry Styles show.

The sliding door opens behind you and you want to curse again when you see Harry stepping out.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, putting his coat on as he walks over to you.

“I’m fine,” you answer shortly, staring ahead of you, out to Anne’s backyard.

“You should know by now that I know when you’re lying,” he chuckles softly. “Is it what Jonah said?”

“We’re not a couple, Harry. We should never be.”

“Wow, okay, you took it to your heart.”

“I just don’t want people to think it’s something that could happen. Because it can’t and won’t.”

“I’m sorry that thinking of me in a romantic way is so fucking painful to you,” he snorts out an offended laugh and you instantly regret being so harsh.

“I’m… It’s not…”

“You’ve been so weird, Y/N. Acting like spending the holidays with me is like the last thing you wanna do, and now you get all worked up because of one silly comment.”

“It’s not… It’s not what it looks like. I promise I’m happy to be here it’s just…”

You can’t explain yourself without telling him the truth about your feelings. You’ve been cornered, oh shit.

“Are you… trying to avoid me?” he guesses and you shut your eyes closed, praying he would just disappear so you don’t have to have this conversation. “Okay, don’t answer, but I’ll come clean and maybe that will make you feel better…” he continues and your eyes pop open as you look at him.

He looks nervous, like before his first solo Wembley show, but there are no thousands of people waiting for him eagerly to perform, it’s just you and him, yet he is fumbling with his fingers as if he was about to go on stage.

“There’s a part of me that hopes you’ve been acting like this because you feel the same way… Y/N, I—fuck, I should have prepared a real speech,” he chuckles anxiously and you can’t decide if you want to run away or jump into his arms. “We spend so much time together and we get along so well, I feel like it was bound to happen… I would love to—Um, gosh, this is so bad,” he chuckles again.

“Harry, no…” you plead quietly, but he either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore it.

“Y/N, you are so much more than just my assistant, you’re one of my absolute best friends, but even more than that… I mean I want you to be more than that and I’m hoping you feel the same way… We’re so good together and you know me better than anyone and I know you like the back of my hand too, that’s why… I have hope that you might feel the same way. I mean, I feel like there’s been sparks and… I really didn’t plan this out, fuck,” he exhales as he finally looks at you now that he has said everything out loud, but then he sees tha panic on your face. “I was wrong, oh shit. You don’t… Fuck,” he curses, running a hand through his hair.

“N-No, I…”

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way, I won’t go crazy about it, I mean it will hurt like hell, but it’s fine, or it will be fine.”

“It’s not that. I’m… Harry, I do feel… the same,” you manage to say, but there’s no relief, only pain.

“You do?” his face lights up.

“Yes, but… We can’t… We can’t do this.”

“Is this because you work for me? I’m sure we could figure it out, don’t stress about that.”

“It’s not about that,” you shake your head. “Please don’t make me… I don’t want to talk about it.”

He is confused, he doesn’t understand what’s happening and how he should feel about it, because you just admitted to having feelings for him, but you’re pushing him away at the same time, it doesn’t make any sense to him at all.

“Did I do something? I can’t make it right if you don’t tell me what it is, Y/N, I–”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you repeat yourself and he is more confused than ever, but he wouldn’t make you do something you don’t want to.

“Okay,” he nods. “It’s okay, I won’t bring it up again.”

“You won’t?” you ask with wide eyes, it’s definitely not the reaction you were expecting from him.

“If that’s what you want, yeah.”

“I don’t want this to ruin everything between us, Harry. I don’t want anything to change, I can’t… I can’t afford to lose you too!” The last part comes out barely as just a whisper and they hit him hard in the chest. Lose him too? You could never lose him, no matter what.

“Hey, you won’t lose me, okay? It’s all good, let’s just… I won’t bring it up again. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Stepping closer he cups your jaw in one hand, the other one resting on your shoulder as you try to control your panicked breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out in defeat. This shouldn’t have happened, he will now distance himself from you and you’ll lose yet another person you love and who is supposed to love you back. You want nothing more than to be with him the way he just proposed, but your fears root too deep to let yourself get into a relationship that would hurt you so badly eventually.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s alright, don’t worry. Come on, let’s get back and drink some mulled wine, how does that sound?”

“You’re not mad at me?” you ask in disbelief.

“Of course not,” he smiles and you can tell it’s genuine. He holds a hand out for you and you’re hesitant to take it, but eventually do and the two of you join the party.

You can’t shake the tension in your bones at first, you’re on the edge, waiting for Harry to change, but it never happens. If anything, he is even sweeter with you, always checking in on you, making sure you’re alright and it confuses you even harder.

You just rejected him, he shouldn’t want to be around you. This is not what usually happens, because no matter what, people always leave you. No one has ever loved you enough to want to stay.

You have a few drinks, just enough to ease your anxiety and enjoy the gathering again, like before your talk with Harry. You play more games, sing songs and dance to Christmas music and have some amazing talks with Harry’s family. You’ve never felt more at home, Anne treats you like her daughter, Gemma is like your sister, though Harry… he does not feel like a brother to you. Not when you shiver every time he touches you, not when your eyes meet and he gifts you with a warm smile, mouthing “Are you alright?” every time. Not when he pulls you into his arms and dances with you in the kitchen, your legs tangling together so you almost fall to the floor laughing.

When the party is dying down you’re in the kitchen helping Anne clean up.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t host you this year, but next year you’ll have a place here, Y/N, I promise,” she tells you and you stop as you look at her.

“Next year?”

“Yeah. You’re coming next year too, right?” she smiles at you warmly and it feels like a tight hug. “I hope my son didn’t get too much on your nerves,” she adds chuckling.

“No, I… it’s been amazing. Thank you for having me…” Your voice dies down as your throat closes up and tears dwell in your eyes.

Anne notices the change in you and she drops the kitchen towel from her hands to move over to you.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” she asks, her eyes searching your face as she takes it between her hands. You want to talk, but the words don’t roll off your tongue, so you just shake your head, urging yourself to stop crying like a baby.

“Honey, what got you so sad? Did I do something? Or Harry? You want me to whoop his ass?”

A laugh bubbles from your throat and it feels like it broke the restraint that’s been holding your words back.

“You didn’t do anything. You… Well, you did,” you hiccup, “but not in the sense you asked.”

“Tell me what it is, come on, let’s sit down and chat.” She pulls you over to the kitchen island and you both climb up to a stool as she patiently rubs your back.

“I’m sorry for… breaking down,” you breathe out when you finally gain control over your breathing.

“No need to apologize. Just tell me what the matter is, Darling.”

“I’m just… It’s so stupid,” you shake your head with a bitter laugh. “I didn’t want to come here, because… it’s everything I never had.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never had a Christmas like this. I never had a big family, I never experienced so much… love.”

It’s like your chest has been opened and now you’re unloading your deepest thoughts that you’ve been harboring deep down probably your whole life. And Anne quietly listens and lets you talk.

“We barely celebrated Christmas with my mom, because… she usually wasn’t really in the condition to do so, it was a miracle if she remembered what day it was. I never felt this warmth and I didn’t want to come because I knew it wouldn’t end well. For me.”

“Just because your past Christmases weren’t good, you can still have nice ones now. You have all these people around you that love you and want to spend time with you, this is your chance to make up for all the bad memories.”

“I know,” you breathe out. “But it’s like… my brain is not letting me have it, I keep thinking that if I settle in this feeling and let myself have it, it will hurt more when I lose it.”

“But why do you think you’ll lose it?”

“Because I always lost it,” you answer without missing a beat.

“Oh Darling…” she breathes out and the next thing you know is that she has her arms around you, pulling you into her embrace, your head resting on her chest.

You’re not a hugger, you usually try to avoid close physical contact, but now you instantly melt against her, even put your arms around her waist, letting her warmth wrap you in a cocoon.

“Love is a tricky thing, because as good as it can feel, losing it could break your heart. But you can’t deprive yourself of it fully. You can’t push away everyone from yourself because there’s a chance they might step out of your life one day.”

“But I don’t think I can handle it,” you admit truthfully. “Everyone has left me and I don’t think I can handle it one more time.”

“Of course you can,” she replies, giving you a squeeze. “You have to, because it’s worse if you push everyone away and end up alone. That’s no way to live life.”

“Feels more stable,” you shrug, making her laugh as she lets go of you so she can look at you.

“Yes, but you won’t be happy.”

“I won’t be happy if I get my heart broken again either.”

“No, but when you receive the love, you’ll feel like you’re on the top of the world, that’s what gets you going. Without love, you’ll… lose yourself.”

You’re chewing her words thoroughly, adding everything to what you’ve thought so far and it’s putting it all into a different perspective, though you still can’t shake your deeply rooted fears.

“Have you ever had your heart broken?” you then ask.

“Oh, a million times!” she chuckles. “It’s the way life is, you live, you love and sometimes your heart gets broken. Then you heel and go on from there, appreciating the love you have, looking for other people to give you more. Easy as it is.”

“You really make it sound easy,” you chuckle.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, deep in thoughts until Anne speaks up again.

“Harry’s confession scared you, didn’t it?”

“You know about it?” you ask, eyes widened.

“Of course,” she laughs. “He is my son and he shares an awful lot with me. Like his feelings for this one particular girl,” she winks at you, heat crawling up your neck. The thought that Harry told his mom about you awakens the butterflies in your stomach right away.

“I don’t want to lose him,” you mutter, refusing to look her in the eyes. “It’ll hurt less if we… don’t get involved.”

“You really think your heart wouldn’t get broken if you parted ways now?”

You want to answer yes instantly, but you can’t when you actually think about it. It doesn’t matter that you’re not dating him, losing him would be just as hard and painful at this point, because he is your friend. Your best friend, to be exact. He is such a huge part of your life already that it would be impossible not to have your heart broken if you lost him.

“I know you to be the kind of person who takes risks. That’s what you have to do too when it comes to love and you just have to hope for the best. And if you end up hurt, take it as a lesson, build from it and continue stronger.”

She pats your hand and slips off the stool before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You needed this conversation and you’re glad it was Anne you could have it with. It’s bittersweet, because you wanted your mom to be just like her, to give you this support and wisdom, but she could never be the mother you needed her to be.

Your thoughts are racing when you say goodbye and you and Harry head back to his place. It’s dark, the street lights are gently illuminating his face as they pass by and you’re working up your courage to talk to him when you arrive.

He is still not showing any signs of anger or disappointment about your previous conversation, he is not bitter about getting rejected and it’s sending you a message, loud and clear.

He loves you enough to bear with the pain of being rejected rather than to lose you.

“If you’re not too tired we can watch a movie, if you want,” he offers arriving home.

“Can we… talk?” you ask, your inside shaking from anticipation and fears.

“You can talk during the movie, I don’t mind,” he shrugs, not taking the hint what you meant.

“No, I mean… can we have a talk?”

His eyes finally meet yours and he realizes that it’s something serious.

“Oh. Sure, let’s sit down.”

“I can’t,” you blurt out. “I’m… I’m too nervous,” you add.

“Okay, then we’ll stand. What’s up?”

You take a deep breath staring at him, getting lost in those beautiful green eyes for a moment before you force the words out of your mouth.

“I love you.”

It’s relieving and scary at the same time to say it so openly, but you can’t take it back now. Harry’s lips part, but because of your talk earlier, he doesn’t say anything, just waits for you to add more.

“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I reacted today. Truth is that… I’m scared to death, Harry,” you admit, already feeling your eyes tearing up. “I’m so used to people walking out of my life, people who were supposed to love me, that I reject the idea of giving someone the power to break my heart like that again. I thought that I’m protecting myself by pushing you away, but I was so wrong,” you breathe out a bitter chuckle.

You’re a mess, your hands are shaking and you feel like throwing up, but you know you have to put it all out. It’s now or never. Stepping closer you continue.

“I had an eye-opening talk with your mom,” you smile. “It’s gonna be hard to change my point of view, I’ll have to work on that. But I do take risks and– Sorry, I’m rambling,” you chuckle, scratching the back of your neck.

“It’s okay,” he smiles softly.

“What I’m trying to say is that… I love you and I… I want to give it a chance. Give us a chance.”

“Really?” His whole face lights up as he takes your face between his hands.

“Yeah,” you smile through your tears. “Just please… Don’t break my heart,” you add in a whisper.

“Oh Y/N…” he exhales, resting his forehead against yours. “You have the right to cut my balls off if I ever do that,” he says, finally making you laugh.

“But I already have the right to do that if you ever miss a flight or don’t answer my texts in less than 24 hours.”

“Add this to the list too,” he grins, nudging your nose with his, his lips are now just a breath away.

“We have to set boundaries though,” you say, though it’s the last thing you want to talk about.

“We will. But we’re on vacation, so no more work talk,” he warns before his lips finally press against yours.

You’ve imagined kissing Harry so many times, but fantasy is nothing like reality. Like feeling his hungry mouth discovering yours, his hands pressing into your back or the moan that slips through his delicious lips when you tug on his hair to pull him closer even though you’ve melted together and you can’t tell where you end and where he starts.

He somehow backs until he bumps against the couch and he falls to the soft cushion, pulling you with him and you settle on his lap, pressing your front against his eagerly. You’re ready to go all the way, right here on his couch, you’ve wanted him for so long, you don’t want to wait any longer, but fate has different plans for you.

Harry’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket breaking the moment, though neither of you are eager to acknowledge it and pull back, but when it doesn’t stop, Harry grunts against your lips and reaches into his pocket with an annoyed frown. You attempt to climb off his lap, but his free hand is quick to grab onto your waist and pull you back.

“No moving,” he warns you before answering the call. “Mum? It’s not a good ti–” he starts, but Anne cuts him off.

“Harry, be patient with her, okay?” you hear her voice in the quiet. Harry’s eyes snap up to meet yours as he answers.

“I am. Well, not right now,” he cheekily says referring to the situation the two of you are in at the moment and you can barely bite a giggle back.

“Right now is what matters!” Anne sighs. “Listen, I talked to her and she is–”

“Mum.” This time Harry is the one interrupting. “Now is not a good time. We are actually smoothing things out with Y/N, like, right now.”

There’s a silence in the call while Harry is eyeing you with hunger and passion, his free hand relentlessly massaging your hips, waist and thighs.

“Oh… Oh! Great! I’ll get out of your hair then. Come by tomorrow to tell me everything!”

“Are you sure you want to hear everything?” Harry chuckles and you smack his chest playfully, giving him a hard look, but it quickly turns into a smile.

“Oh you wanker!”

“Bye mum!” he laughs, ending the call and letting the phone drop to the cushion next to him before eagerly returning all of his attention to you. “Now, where were we?”

“Get those in order, right now!” Your voice beams through the hallway as you’re jogging to Harry’s dressing room, the whole backstage buzzing from the show that just ended minutes ago. You have a looser schedule since you’re only leaving in the late afternoon tomorrow, but you want everything to be ready in time as usual.

Questions are thrown at you on your way by different crew members and you have an answer to all of them because you are probably the only person around here who knows everything, even the stuff that’s not even your responsibility to take care of.

Reaching his dressing room you walk in without knocking, a habit that’s not new, you used to come and go even before you started sharing a bed with the star of the show.

“You have about…” you start, checking the time on your phone, “ten minutes to get ready so we can get going,” you announce as you walk in, expecting him to be running around in his underwear, either about to shower or freshly out of the shower, because usually that’s the state you find him.

Not this time though.

Surprisingly, he is already dressed, his things are packed, ready to leave.

“We can get going, but not where you’d think,” he smirks at you, grabbing his backpack as he walks over to you, stealing a quick kiss.

“Huh?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be.”

Confusion etches onto your face as he takes your hand and starts pulling you out of the building, to the parking lot, but he doesn’t head to the car, instead the two of you are walking over to the sports center that’s right next to the arena he has just performed at.

“Harry? Where are we going?” you ask with a nervous laughter.

“No questions, it’s a surprise,” he smirks.

The building is closed, it’s quite late at night, but he just simply walks up to the entrance and you spot a security guard there who unlocks the door for you without hesitation.

“Good evening,” Harry greets the man.

“Good evening. Everything is ready for you,” the man nods with a smirk.

“Thank you so much.”

“Are you going to murder me? If you want to get rid of me you should just fire me and break up with me,” you mumble, but he just laughs at your comment.

“I’m never getting rid of you, baby,” he says, kissing your temple as the two of you turn the corner.

And slowly, you realize what is about to happen.

“Harry? Is this…” you breathe out, the two of you approaching an ice rink.

“It is,” he chuckles, squeezing your hand as he pulls you over a bench that has two pairs of ice-skates waiting for you. “I know I’m not a parent, it won’t be a good childhood memory, but it can still be a nice experience. Learning how to skate.”

You’re touched by the thought and the gesture. It’s been almost two months since that one time back in England when you blurted out how you were never taught to skate. He remembered and he is now eager to turn it into a nice experience rather than a bitter part of your childhood.

“It’s gonna be a lot better,” you smile at him, curling your arms around his neck before kissing his rosy lips. “Thank you.”

“Am I doing this no heartbreak thing right?” he smirks, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You’re doing it perfectly.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb

1K notes · View notes

apollodeath · 1 year ago

Text

Are You in the Mood?

Notes/summary: inspired from my headcannons! I wanted to make a smutty story that was König being turned on but you’re busy with working from home and he kinda just waits around your home for you to be ready.

Warnings: rough sexual activity, talks of vagina anatomy. ¿Primal/animal/prey talk?, unprotected sex, consent isn’t a warning but thought I’d add it in here cause it’s sexy. MDNI 18+ ONLY

König x reader

Reader reference as only ‘you’ and pet names.

König’s day has been bad since he woke up, stressful situations from work got him feeling a little pent up. Anger sat within him today. He didn’t ever release it by stomping around the house or even yelling at others. He kinda just felt it in him deep and angry it stayed, he got home to you late due to work keeping him which meant he missed lunch with you but, you left him a sandwich.

He ate it about an hour ago and sat in the living room after. You worked from home and that’s what you’ve been doing ever since. Around 3pm his body told him something he wasn’t expecting, it wanted release. But not any release, it wanted to be deeply buried in a sopping wet pussy as he unloaded every worry. His body chilled over from the idea. He then proceeded to get up and wonder down the hall catching you in his eyes.

Sat with your back to the door typing away at your desk. König watches from the doorway leaning against the frame.

“Are you almost done?” He asks softly and gentle.

“Umm…” you continue. Getting lost in your work for a second “yes but no…” you have so much on your mind and so much more to do.

König nods in understanding. König thinks for a second and goes to open his mouth but, feels embarrassment tingle in his body. He paused for a second longer and then turns back going to the living room sitting. He feels the familiar ache below the belt that his cock wants your attention not his own.

He tries watching tv but, it isn’t enough to distract his flying thoughts and desire. He mutes the tv and listens to you or tries to, all he hears is more typing and clicking. König’s hands move over his lap feeling his cock semi hard. He leans his head back to lay it on the couch sighing. His mind wonders to what heated things he’d like to do to you now.

Maybe lay you down on the bed nice and slow, softly kissing then moving down your body to eat you out.

Maybe even right here, on the couch, on his lap bouncing on him.

He swallows hard as his pants get uncomfortably tight and his heart rate speeds slightly.

Maybe he’ll walk in the computer room pick you up out of your chair and strip you down and fuck you against the desk or wall maybe finish on the ground; rug burn on his knees and you on all fours in front of him, dripping and begging for more cum to fill your hol-

You growling in frustration in the computer room disturbs his fantasies. Making him jump up, hard under his pants, practically dripping himself. He walks back down the hall standing more frustrated then before he looms over and brings a dark desire feeling as he stands watching you. He feels like an animal.

“Maus… are you almost done with work?” He says a little less gentle but trying to keep it unnoticed.

“No. I just got an email that this paper is due by the end of the day Köni~” you answer feeling defeated from stress.

He closes eyes trying to stop the feeling of his primal instinct to cum. He replaces his emergency for release to sympathy.

“I’m sorry meine Maus” he says softly. “I-….” He stops and thinks you need less stress so he’ll keep it to himself on how he feels. You turn around in your chair looking at him.

“You?…” you question why he paused his sentence.

“I..I’m sorry you have to do so much work.” König says genuinely not just because he’s hard and bothered, but because he actually is sorry about the stress your work puts you under. He knows what it feels like.

“Thank you Köni, I just-“ sighs “I’ll just try and finish it fast I know you had a hard time at work and probably want some cuddles on the couch.” Your computer pings and you turn around sighing “I promise König I’ll cuddle you” you start typing once more.

König heart melts for your sweet words and his cock twitches for your touch no matter what touch just yours. This makes König feel a little guilty that he wants to release his emotions by cuming and not cuddles or not ONLY cuddles.

He walks back to the living room to uncomfortable to sit so he walks around, pacing behind the couch then entering the kitchen then back out he finally feels his cock softening in his pants which makes him feel relief of uncomfortableness but more frustrated then before. He thinks of work while walking into your shared bedroom, down the hall, past the computer room.

König sits on the bed and sighs throwing his body back to lay on the bed. He is so tall that his feet are flat on the floor while he’s laying down he crosses his arms behind his head closing his eyes. He thinks of today and how angry it made him that someone below his rank decided to yell at him. They knew he wouldn’t yell back but, the disrespect was something König wouldn’t take so easily.

His muscles felt tight his mood was dampened. He just wanted this feeling gone. He opened his eyes thinking if he could just masturbate and be done with this. He unbuckled, unzipped and pulled his cock out over the pants it was still a little tiny bit hard but it didn’t take long for it to spring up again and stand to attention when König let his thoughts take over.

Throwing you on the bed pushing your chest and face into the sheets while plunging his cock in deeper in your wet pussy. Over and over. He thinks about the sounds and feelings while stroking himself to an imaginary pace of his fantasy. He whimpers a little more each time his hand slides over his tip. His eyes roll back for a little when it starts building his orgasm. His legs push off the floor a little while his hips thrust up into his hand.

“König?” You call from down the hall.

“F-fuck…” he pauses his hand and lets his hips fall back down he takes a minute to calm down. Feeling the Orgasm slip away and his breath heave in his chest.

“Köni?!” You call out louder.

“Y-yes? Yes meine Maus?” He calls back, sitting up and re-adjusting his clothes letting his hard cock be placed back under his clothes sealed under zipper and belt once more.

“Can you get me a cup of water really quick I’m almost done!” You say excitedly to be almost finished.

“Yes. I will.” His anger and frustration make him less thrilled. He walks out of the room past you and into the kitchen grabbing a cup and filling it. König’s cock twitches making him spill a little water as his lower body aches and his balls ache for release. He takes a deep breath and starts walking back. He enters the room and towers over you staring at the back of your head as you work.

You notice his presence and it’s a bit different than just sad but, you carry on. You’re on your last page of paper work.

He reaches passed you setting the cup down on your desk. König smells your hair from where he stands and his cock twitches once more making him clear his throat to hide an obvious groan. You look up at him and he looks down at you locking eyes with him you notice he is angry. You furrow your eyebrows just noticing.

“Köni are you okay?” You ask gently. How did you not notice. If you had noticed you would’ve asked more questions about today but, you thought you knew why he was sad. Was he angry because he missed lunch but, why angry? Was he angry with you?

“Yes, Maus.” He answered firmly. He backed away and stood for a second holding your gaze. You look at his stance and realize he’s holding back something.

“König I ate because I wanted to try and be done with work before you got home. So that I could hold you.” You explain. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.” You say with a frown. This making König’s body stop for a second and he leans in kissing your forehead then cheek, kneeling to look at you. König tried hard to never upset you because you have never upset him. He didn’t want to bring his anger home and never did he want to make it feel like it was your doing.

“No, no my love I am… I am not angry with you.” He says brushing your hair back “I-….” He pauses looking down for a second thinking. “I am just… needing-um….” He’s to embarrass to say but he knows he must.

You look with caring eyes and half smile feeling relief it isn’t you that made him angry. “I know what you need” you state softly.

“Oh thank god, miene Maus I-“ you cut him off by hugging him you hold him tight rubbing his back. His cock twitches and aches.

“I’ll cuddle you more soon I just have a few sentences left and I’ll be out there to hold you and kiss you” the last words ‘kiss you’ makes his heart pound. “Is that okay?” You ask feeling him tighten, his body almost to rough with the hug.

“No-yes yes but, I just need… I need to”

“You can tell me, my Love” you say gentle still hugging him still rubbing his back.

“I need to cum.” His accent dripped over the words and down your spine like melted metal. His mood and body made sense immediately. He is angry but it’s covered head to toe in frustration. You slowly back away from the hug looking at him, his eyes say it all; blown out in desire, his body temperature is hot. He looks over your body like an animal ready to devour you leaving nothing but the blood behind, bones and all. You feel yourself begin to get turned on your sure the waiting will lead to seat wetting.

He furrows his brow waiting for a response thinking he might’ve gone to far maybe said to much.

“König I’ll make you cum. As much as you want. As fast as you want. Just let me finish this last sheet and I’ll let you do whatever you want.” you spoke clear and sexually making sure to keep eye contact. You knew he loved that.

“Yes. Maus.” He answered his voice low. König started to feel like an animal waiting for his prey to lower their guard and then he’ll strike. He got up from his knee allowing you to catch a glimpse of his hard cock under his pants.

The outline prominent and you turned in your seat typing out more quickly not caring about minor errors. König walked out back to the room stripping his pants off then his shirt leaving him down to just socks, underwear and mask. He sat down on his side of the bed laying his back against the the headboard trying to keep himself from cuming by himself.

You felt yourself get wet slowly as your mind went from work to König buried in you, body chills and legs start to shake with anticipation for it.

König stiffens his jaw out of frustration and agony at this point. He looks down and his cock is leaking precum onto his underwear. He slowly moves his hand over to it to softly rub his finger over the tip of his penis; that’s still under the fabric. Even tho it’s a soft, barely-anything touch, it earns a soft whimper.

You get done and hit send then almost sprinting out of your office down the hall seeing König sitting on the bed his fingers softly tracing his cock head. You strip rather fast causing König to strip his underwear throwing them to the side. You get up on the bed crawling over to him feeling like the animal this time. You lock lips instantly and feel his rough hands grab your hips pulling you on top of him his cock sat straight up with a little bit of a curve facing his chest. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

In-between kisses you hear his soft whimpers and oh, how that made your body heat and your folds leak. König wasted no time placing his hand below you grabbing his cock and placing it at your opening and his left hand lowing you by your hips. He normally would wait an hour of foreplay to make sure you were ready to take him but, your pussy instantly felt like it was a magnet pulling König’s hard aching cock into it. He moaned rather fast pushing you all the way down his thick cock he bit his lip shutting his eyes tight. You felt the familiar burn of him stretching you out but paired with unimaginable pleasure making you moan along with him.

“Fuck!” He practically shouted. His eagerness and neediness made you wonder how long he waited for this. He pushed you up and down with his hands on your sides fucking you pretty hard. You were on top but he was doing all the work. He was pulling your hips up to his tip and pushing you back down rocking his hips to met yours over and over you felt a stretch every time he went fully in but it only made you wetter. Your hands grip his shoulders needing more stability but couldn’t without maybe hurting him so instead you wrap your arms around his neck placing your head in the crook of his neck breathing and softly moaning not to cover up his sweet moans.

König thrusted more frantically, chasing his orgasm but he needed more grip, more action. He wrapped his arms around your waist pushing himself all the way in you holding it there as he got up carrying you to the edge of the bed. You could feel his cock twitching like crazy in your walls. You moan right along with him “what’re you doing?” You say as he walks around the bed.

“Fucking you harder.” He says angrily almost like he’s yelling at you. He doenst let you go but, he lays you on the bed; arms still wrapped around your waist tight as he starts thrusting harder, the sound of your bodies colliding feels the room it’s louder then you think you’ve heard before the vibrations in your body from his cock connecting to your pussy over and over drives you mad.

He’s a whimpering, moaning mess cuss words seep out of his mouth in English and in German. He is working up a sweat in both of you, he turns his face and bits at your neck surely bruising your skin. König feels his orgasm building once again and his eyes shut tight as he hold your skin in his mouth sucking and biting. His thrusts or primal and his bodies curled about yours delivering everything he has. He lets go of your neck and used his mouth to kiss over the tender skin whimpering. “I’m s-sorry.” He moans thinking he’s hurt your neck.

You moan in response feeling so good you can’t respond with words just sloppy call outs of his name. König has always asked to finish inside you while he was going raw inside you but you always denied his request, which he respected always. Because he didn’t ask before starting he knew he had to pull out no matter how bad he wanted to feel the toe curling orgasm rip through him into you filling you up until he was ready to remove himself.

König moans your name then lifts himself up with his arms still thrusting deeply in you he slowly stands and starts getting sloppy which you know that means he’s close to cumming.

“König- Köni~ you can… cum. Cum for me.” You moan out knowing he loves permission and encouragement on cumming. He nods whimpering breathlessly just knowing his legs will be weak once he’s done with you.

“I’m gonna pull out don’t worry” he kept going feeling himself get near the edge “Maus I- I’m so close I’m going to give you all of my cum” he says breathlessly grunting and groaning.

You decide on the spot to let him cum in you, without condom. You wanna feel him release his hot cum, his frustrations melt into you. This has never happened before but you craved it you wanted to be breed and cummed in like an animal in heat. It’s the only thing that’ll satisfy right now in this very moment.

You lock your legs around his waist which makes him look at you from his upright position, he gets on his elbows still keeping the thrusts. “Maus I’m close I can’t keep going” he slurrs out “I’ll make you cum I promise after I’ve cum I’ll eat your sweet cunt I’ll finger your tight wet pussy just let me cum.” He’s almost crying from having to hold back his orgasm his hips stuttering against yours

“Cum in me König, please I need you to fill me please cum for me” König hears speak these like a scripture from his own personal heaven. He has no time to react when the biggest orgasm he’s ever felt rips through him cause him to lock his legs and hips against yours buried so deep in you you can feel the hot cum filling your walls up. He moan/groans so loud, You moan feeling just how much is pumping in you König’s face stuck in a eyes rolled back blissful look, his checks are red and his chest is blushed and hes trying to catch his breath, his heart still pounding and his cock finally stop squirting.

He feels his legs weaken and his arms collapse letting his head rest on your chest, he breathing really hard and he can her his heartbeat in his ears. You wrap your arms around him softly rubbing his back, laying a soft kiss on his head.

“Do you feel better König?” You whisper still feeling your own desire to cum.

He can feel his cock softly pluses still experiencing his high as it slowly comes down. He gathers himself and starts getting up slowly pulling his cock out watching as the cum follows after his tip leaves your opening. He feels on top of the world, no anger, no stress just pure bliss.

He then takes his two fingers scooping up the dripping cum and shoves it back in curling his fingers.

“Almost wasted a few drops Maus. Can’t have that.” he says in his low raspy voice the moaning really roughed his vocal cords.

You feel immediate pleasure and his fingers thick enough to stretch you in a comfortable way bringing your orgasm out weather you liked it or not. He always loved watching your legs shut tightly around his hand while you cum on his thrusting fingers, he slowed them riding out your high. The sound of your cum and his own mixing with his fingers stirring it made his softening cock twitch a little. He pulls his fingers out and crawled on to the bed pulling you with him.

“I feel much, much better.” He whispered. Feeling himself finally come down completely and he still felt you catching your breath next to him. He pulled you into a cuddle, kissing your forehead.

“I feel better too” you slightly giggled making him laugh under his breath. He closed his eyes listening to you come down. He waited a few moments and felt another urge in his body.

“Meine Love… i am starving” he said with a slight smile, when he heard you laugh a little.

“Can we order delivery… I am too tired now” you spoke softly.

He smiled “of course. But I have to do the laundry… the bed is soaked under us.”

Notes: I love writing about König frustrated he’s just so ARF ARF ARF did not proofread cause I am lazy. Also sorry it’s so long idk why I kept writing lol

352 notes · View notes

garbinge · 1 year ago

Text

You Suck

Carmy Berzatto x Platonic!F!Reader

Summary: Coming home to the surprise that Carmy is holding your stove hostage at the expense of your takeout lol. Just two friends talking (fighting) about life. A/N: I really have a special place in my heart for platonic fics and writing these two is one of my favorite things. Despite that, this took me a while to get the way I wanted, I went back and forth a lot but ultimately landed here. Hope you enjoy and more to come!

Warnings: All my fics are 18+, despite content. Light angst, arguments, cursing, drinking, fighting.

Words: 3k

The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Other fics from this universe

As you opened the door to your apartment, it took you a minute to realize that you weren’t alone. The bag of takeout you had grabbed on your way home was placed on the entryway table and what would normally startle someone, made you chuckle. Carmy was standing at your kitchen stove, multiple pans on the burners, towel tucked in the back strap of the apron as he focused intently on the food cooking in front of him.

“Honey, I’m home!” You teased him with sarcasm in your voice as you replaced the takeout bag with your wallet and keys and made your way to the kitchen island bar counter that separated your kitchen and living room. Carmy scoffed out a laugh and shook his head as he tossed the food in one of the pans with little effort.

As you entered the kitchen, which despite it only being manned by one person was in chaos, you dared to journey over to the fridge. You knew how Carmy tended to ebb and flow in the kitchen so you tried your luck. You made your way unscathed, still needing to call out the kitchen terms Carmy begged you to use. Corner and Behind were all that were expected out of you and after that one time you almost ended up with grease burn on your dominant hand, you obliged. Now, the chilled bottle of wine you had adventured for was in your hand with a glass from the cabinet, before you retreated to the safe space that was the bar stools, you grabbed the water pitcher from the top shelf of the fridge and refilled Carmy’s plastic takeout container that he was using as a drinking glass.

“Missed you at the restaurant today.” You spoke as you made your way to the stools and poured a good amount of wine into your glass.

“Didn’t know you were gonna be stopping by.” Carmy’s attention wasn’t on conversation or you right now, he was monotone in his reply which clued you in to his mind being elsewhere.

“Apparently that’s a theme of ours.” You made sure the comment was mumbled, and with the exhaust fan going and the fact you made the comment into your wine glass, Carmy didn’t hear you. “Yea, just for a bit, a girl’s gotta eat.”

“You do realize that the kitchen is closed since we’re under renovations.” Carmy spoke, still not even looking at you.

You took the opportunity to grab a takeout container from the bag as well as chopsticks and start munching on something as you waited for whatever Carmy was cooking up to be ready. Restaurants serve appetizers for a reason right?

“Yea but,” you paused as you took a bite from the food that always tasted better from the paperboard than served on a plate, “everyone at the restaurant loves me and wants me to be happy and fed.”

Carmy shook his head, annoyance in his tone now. “You can’t get Syd to make you a sandwich every time you come in.”

“Actually it was the electrician. PB&J.” You corrected him, leaning your head back and dangling the chopsticks over your mouth to drop the piece of food into your mouth.

Carmy didn’t say anything, so you spoke up again.

“So, how was your day?” Your inflection rose to insinuate that you were getting tired of trying to pull words out of him as you replaced your chopsticks with your glass of wine.

“Fine.” He said quickly.

You knew Carmy could multitask in the kitchen. There had been multiple times you’ve seen him do it at The Beef since coming back but even more during all the times you were at his place while he cooked or scenarios like the one right now where he took over your kitchen.

You never minded, you spent more of your time eating at The Beef or out than turning the burners on your own stove so Carmy coming over and dusting them off for you was always welcomed and appreciated. It’s why he had a key, amongst other reasons, the main one he was your best friend and emergency contact so it just seemed right.

But all that is why you knew he was being avoidant right now.

“What’d you do?” You inquired for more details, taking the time to pick through the paperboard container as you waited for an answer.

“Stuff.” Again, he replied hurriedly.

“Syd gave me a paprika prawn to try today.” That sentence had more hope than the others, you thought you’d get something out of him with that one.

“Nice.” He was now looking in the grocery bags he must have brought with him and pulling out something to add to his pan.

You let him be for a few more seconds, thinking he deserved a few moments of peace before you shook him with your next statement, one you knew would get his attention.

“I got arrested last night.”

You thought you’d hear utensils drop, the stove click off, maybe even a pan hit the ground in an overdramatic display but the only thing you heard was the sound of Carmy’s towel slapping the back of his green pullover as he turned to look at you and rested the towel over his shoulder.

“What?” The end of that word felt sharp, the emotion that filled his face at least left you with some type of a response rather than none.

“Yup.” You met him with a one worded answer just to be petty.

“What?” He spoke, now with more confusion in his voice as he stepped towards you. His brows meeting together, his face scrunching up as his brain searched for an answer.

“Simple Assault.” Another short reply from you.

“There’s nothing simple about assault.” Carmy’s anger started to show. “What the fuck, who the fuck are you assaulting.”

“They call it that, not me. Although it was pretty simple, he harassed me so I pushed his head into a plate of french toast.” You finished talking but only let a second pass before speaking up again. “Actually it was a french toast waffle, strawberry rhubarb flavored too, but that kind of complicates the whole simple part of it.”

You went straight from a petty short reply to petty over-explaining.

“So you assaulted some guy and then spent the night in the drunk tank?” He questioned.

“Wasn’t drunk.” Back to the pettiness of a short reply, just for the thrill of it all. “Richie bailed me out.”

“Um,” Carmy thought for a second, his eyes closed as his brain racked around that statement. “Richie bailed you out?” Carmy’s face fell into a frown as he brought his hand through his oily hair. “Richie bailed you out?” He was now looking at you as he repeated himself. “You–you called Richie?”

“It’s not a big deal, Bear.” You shifted from pettiness to uneasiness as you saw his response, opting to use his nickname to try and ease into this conversation.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asked more sincerity in his voice now.

You thought about how to answer this. Logically, Richie owed you one, you bailed him out once it was time he repaid the favor. You also knew, a part of you wanted to call Richie.

Truthfully, you felt like Richie was the only person you could rely on lately, but you knew those words would have gutted Carmy.

“Richie owed me one.” You said defaulting back to the logical response.

Carmy was reminded back to the story that started this whole thing with Richie and you. “You slept with him again.” His tone immediately changed. What you thought would be pointed and another argument was interchanged with a smile and wait, was that a little humor? In his tone?

“And you weren’t drunk?” He turned around back to the stove as he finished up whatever he was cooking.

You knew he was just being a jerk and teasing you, but if he was going to do this instead of getting mad you’d take it.

“You know, I didn’t think it was going to be but ot’s been weird since. I don’t–” You started to talk to Carmy as you laid back in the stool.

“No.” Carmy took a bite of what was in the pan. “No, we’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” You asked as your eyebrows moved in confusion.

“Talking about Richie.” He was starting to plate the food. “And especially you and Richie.”

“You sure you mean talking about Richie and not just talking?” You rolled your eyes.

“To be sure I’m covered, let's just say talking as a whole.” He turned around and placed the plates on his side of the kitchen island.

“All I’m saying is he’s been acting weird since it happened.” You said ignoring his request.

“Alright, we’re doing this.” Carmy’s face was focused. “Look, he likes you, okay?” Carmy began garnishing the plates.

“Likes me? Richie doesn’t like m–”

Carmy cut you off. “Nope. Not doing this. I’m sticking to what I said no more talking.”

You lifted your hands in surrender and leaned forward to look at the plates he was about to serve.

“So, as much as I love when you come over and cook, I’d love to know what’s with the spontaneity. I wouldn’t have bought take-out if I knew you were gonna be here.” You changed the topic and grabbed a fork from Carmy’s hand.

“Boneless Pork Ribs with a Cherry Pepper Glaze.” He said watching you grab the plate to eat them.

“It’s a play on the cherry pepper spare ribs from Elina’s, right?” You asked as you looked down at the plate.

Carmy nodded, if you blinked you would have missed it, but he was clearly just eager for you to try it. You took a bite, you let it linger in your mouth for a minute before chewing and letting the flavors melt and dance around your tongue. It was good, but in comparison to the dish you had just mentioned to Carmy, it was missing something.

“Takeout’s better.” You were expecting him to say something back to you but when you looked up you were just met with his stare.

“More detail please?”

The smallest smile grew on your face. “You know, I just don’t think you put enough love into it.”

“I’m being fuckin’ serious.” His face hardened.

“So am I.” You leaned back in the stool and kicked your feet up on the counter and shrugged. “It’s just missing something. Probably Sydney if I’m being honest.”

“I have something to tell you.” Carmy quickly changed the topic.

“I thought you didn’t want to do any talking.” You mocked him, eyes closed as you relaxed.

“I saw Claire at the grocery store.”

The speediness in your reaction was unmatched, your feet were off the table and your face got serious as you looked at your best friend.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I was in the freezer section and she was just there.” He was starting to get worked up, the anxiety of it all catching up to him.

“First of all, what the fuck were you doing in the freezer section?” You shook your head and squinted your eyes as Carmy turned to the freezer and grabbed a box to show you.

“Strawberry eclairs and veal stock but mainly the strawberry eclairs.” His grip was tight on the box, a sign of the stress he was feeling.

“Strawberry eclairs.” Your bottom lip protruded as you felt the sweetness behind the gesture, a memory from your childhood.

“Also, just because I’m a chef doesn’t mean I don’t eat tv dinners.” Despite the anxiety, his attitude was back and in full swing.

“I thought I told you to stick to the frozen pizzas over the tv dinners.” It was pointless to argue about but you were buying time before talking about the big elephant in the room.

“You know, both of those require me to be in the frozen food aisle which was what your question was in the first place.” He said, raising his voice since you had just raised yours a bit.

“When were you going to tell me you were seeing Claire?” You asked, meeting his attitude with your own.

“I’m not seeing her, I saw her once. Today. For the first time in years.” He corrected you, clearly confused by the situation himself.

“I don’t know what you want me to do with that.” You shook your head and stood up now, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring the remaining of it into your glass before moving to your recycling bin to toss the bottle.

“Talk to me about it, I don’t know!” He yelled following you around the kitchen.

“What do you want, Carmy?” You turned around so you were face to face with him, your voice soft now.

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t like it.” You said staring at him now.

“I don’t like you and Richie.” Carmy said back, not in a way that was condescending or trying to rebuttal you but just a simple statement and it offered you a different perspective.

You both felt the same way. It made you try and think differently about it all, taking into perspective maybe how Carmy viewed you and Richie wasn’t how you did. There were things between you and Richie that no one but you two knew. Conversations, moments, big fucking moments. And you weren’t just talking about when he bailed you out. Mikey’s funeral, you spent every moment next to him practically. Coming home, the way he welcomed you back. Your ex walking into The Beef, he protected you and then respected that you didn’t want to talk about it. Then, there was the stuff in between. The comments, the support, feeding you, finding things that reminded him of you, and of course, bailing you out. All of that had to make you think maybe there was that type of thing happening with Carmy and Claire.

Claire was a sweet girl, popular, but sweet. Maybe there was a morsel of jealousy there back in high school. Not because you liked Carmy in that way, but because she had been given the Berzatto nickname simply because it rhymed. Another part of that jealousy was, the Berzatto kids saved you. The chaotic, crazy, and extremely mentally unstable household saved your life and you held every one of the Bear’s close and responsible for that, even the ones who were mentally fucked themselves. But that was years ago. Your real issue wasn’t really with Claire at all, but more with Carmy and his ability to balance things. He never held any friendships, yours was intact because you got it, you understood him. Even when things were bad, you fucking understood. You let a lot of shit slide and maybe that was your fault but remembering back to your high school days, the panic attacks and stress Carmy went through over school, over home, over Claire. It made all your thoughts come to a halt as you spoke up.

“I don’t want you getting fucking hurt.” You said, shaking your head from your thoughts. There was way more to it, but part of that perspective you had, made you realize none of it mattered. You just had to say your piece and live with whatever was to come. You were going to continue whatever this was with Richie, despite what Carmy said, and you had to believe he was going to do the same.

Carmy just shook his head at your reply as his eyebrows raised. He didn’t need to say anything, his face said it all. He was telling you that he didn’t want you getting hurt either. There was nothing more to say or do with that. I mean sure, argue about how you care about each other? But what good would that do if ultimately you were both going to do whatever you wanted. Since you were best friends, you’d both have to deal with the fallout of those consequences, despite knowing, and on top of living with it you’d both never hit the other with an ‘I told you so’, because that’s what best friends did.

“You really fucking suck.” You rolled your eyes and brought the filled glass to your mouth, chugging about half of it down.

Carmy grabbed two strawberry eclairs from the freezer, handing one to you before peeling back the wrapper on his own. The silence grew between you two as you stood in the kitchen leaning against the two cabinets on opposite sides of the stove.

“Syd really gave you the prawn to try?” He asked, bringing the ice cream to his mouth after his last word.

You scoffed at how Carmy changed the subject. You knew the prawn comment would stick in his head and eat him alive to ask you about.

“Yea she did, after she asked for you a million times.”

“How was it?” He asked, staring down at the ice cream that now had a bite out of it missing.

“Needs work.” You pulled your own ice cream away from your mouth, looking down at it before looking over at Carmy. “It's your recipe she followed isn’t it?”

You knew immediately, it’s why he was asking. Your concern was why he wasn’t at the restaurant with Sydney trying it himself but again, consequences of his own actions. “You know that cherry glaze would be really good on it.” You pointed to your plate of pork ribs, knowing the cherry glaze was her idea.

Carmy pushed off the counter and grabbed one of the takeout containers and made his way to the couch, knowing you were right about the dish. A smile grew on your face as he yelled out to you.

“You really fucking suck.”

#the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #Carmy Berzatto x Platonic!Reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #The Bear Fanfiction #garbinge #garbinge the bear universe #my best friends cousin #my writing

395 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 1 year ago

Text

We're A Family Part 17 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Thank you for your patience with me. I'm still moving a bit slow but I've been living in my comfort fics while writing a new comfort fic so yeah <3

Warnings: Dads Steddie and Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, mostly near the end with a lot of passion between da boys. FLUFF , we have an adorable addition to the Munson-Harrington crew <3 as well as Ro's birthday. ANGST because I'm me, Steve does something stupid with the best intentions, Him and Eddie get into a fight, Eddie's dad makes a cameo, Eddie talks about first moving in with Wayne, Dylan talks about divorce (dont panic! Its fine. We're all fine. Im not that angsty.) and I think that's it.

Word Count: 5369

“Ok, ladies and gentlemen, what are the bets this time around?” The doctor grins as he looks at your little family.

“We’re at 3 to 2 with girl being in the lead.”, Steve beams.

“I love it. Let’s take a look.”

It had been about four months since you found out you were pregnant again and this time around was rough. The first few months were spent throwing up pretty much everything you ate and your cravings had been stronger than they had been before. You found yourself getting grumpier and more irritable which the boys didn’t seem to mind, doing everything they could to make things easier.

You got the house by the lake and everyone (especially Wayne) was excited for the move. Aurora’s birthday was coming up soon which, while still happy, always made you and Eddie nervous. That first year his mom showed up at your door and the two birthdays after she called his phone begging him to come speak at his father’s appeal.

Steve finally told his mom that you were pregnant with his biological child and she was over the moon. He begged her not to tell his dad and so far she seemed to honor his request.

“Alright, Munson-Harrington gang. Congratulations, it looks like we have a healthy baby boy!”

***

“Ok, we have to think of a name.”, Eddie mused as he took a bite from the burger on his plate. “What do you think, kid?” Dylan shrugs causing the metalhead to playfully role his eyes. “You’re no help. What about you, my angel?”

“Han.”, Aurora smiles as she chews on her fries.

“I wouldn’t hate that. Harrison Ford in those earlier movies was so sexy.”

Your son makes a face as both men laugh. “You don’t have any special memories with a name? Like I did with Ro?”

Eddie thought for a moment before a smirk crept across his lips. “James.”, he nods, shifting his gaze towards you two. “When my mother left me with Wayne, I was confused. I genuinely thought she would be coming back so I sat on his couch by the door and just waited. Every now and then he would ask if I was ok or if I needed something and I always told him no. Right before dinner that night, he sat at his little table in the trailer with this rickety, old acoustic guitar and started playing Dio’s Rock n’ Roll Children.”, he chuckles.

Dylan leaned against his side and Eddie lifts his arm to wrap around his shoulders.

“Now my uncle is a god-awful singer but man could he play. I was so fascinated by how his fingers moved that I got up to sit with him. He smiled, placing a sandwich in front of me and I ate as I watch him. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to play the guitar. It took me a few days to realize Lynn wasn’t back but Wayne was always there with a new song. Anyway…”, he sighs as his voice becomes lighter. “The lead singers name is Ronnie James.”

You and Steve smile at him as you caress his leg under the table with your foot.

“I like James.”

“Me to.”, the other man agrees. “James Wayne Munson-Harrington.”

#########

“Oh, Y/N, you guys don’t have to do that.”, Wayne bashfully grins.

“We know but we’re going to because we want to.” Winking at him, you stick your fork into the cake on the counter.

“Honey, we have plates.”

“Yes, baby, we do. It’s this thing UNDER the cake.” Steve playfully narrows his eyes in your direction. “Look everyone else said they were full and I’m eating cake for two!”

He holds up his hands defensively as Eddie rounds the corner with Ro who reaches for her grandpa, demanding he hold her.

“Listen here you. No more birthdays. We’re stopping today at four, understand?”

“No, granpa! I…be…a big girl.”, she declares tossing her hands in the air.

The phone rings and Steve chuckles as he reaches over to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hello. This is a collect call from Hawkins Penitentiary from inmate: Al Munson. Will you accept the call and charges?”

The man glances at Eddie who now has a big smile on his face as he tickles Aurora who in turn hides in Wayne’s neck hoping her father can’t reach her. After a few seconds, he hangs up.

“Who was it, baby?”, you ask.

“Wrong number.”

****

Steve’s foot bounces as he waits behind the glass, eyes constantly searching his surroundings. A guard on the other side, opens a door and brings over the prisoner placing him front of the awaiting man. He had never met Eddie’s dad but he had seen a few pictures. The inmate looking at him now was much older and worn by prison life. He did have a lot of his husband’s features especially in the face but his eyes weren’t as soft as Eddies.

“You’re not my son.”

“No…no I’m not and neither is Eddie.” Allen squinted at his guest in confusion. “Look, I just came down here to tell you and Lynn to leave him alone. Every time we change our number, you guys always find it again and bother him on what is supposed to be a day about his daughter, not you. He spent so much time worried about you both and paying for the sins of everything you guys did to him. It’s time for him to be happy.”

“I see. And what are you going to do if I don’t, Mr. Harrington? Call the cops?”, he snickered. “I have done more than enough time to pay for my own sins. Edward could really help me out here and as my son he should want to.”

“What he wanted was a father and he found that in Wayne when your wife abandoned him. He gave up on you a long time ago.”

“Why are YOU here? Do you speak for him now since you fuck him?” Steve’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man’s comment. “Oh yeah. I know about you, him, and that girl…what’s her name. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about any of that. If my son wants to bend over and—”

“Don’t. Don’t fucking finish that sentence, Allen, or I swear God.”, he growled. “Listen, leave him alone and I can help you in here.”

“How can you help me?”

“I have some money set aside. I can give you some to make things a bit easier.”

Eddie’s dad’s jaw clenches as he weighs his options. “$500 a month and we have a deal.”

###########

A few months had passed and your little family had moved into your new home. Right on time to because about a month after James decided he was ready to join the Munson-Harrington clan.

Aurora was completely fascinated by the new baby.

“Dada, bra-der tiny.”

“He’s going to be tiny right now, honey. You have to be very careful with him.”

Her eyes widen as she gently pets the top of his head before leaning down to kiss his nose.

One night while he was crying, she watched as Eddie heated up a bottle and rocked him in his arms as he fed him.

“Daddy, what’s wrong wit James?”

“He’s just hungry, princess. Babies eat EVERYTHING.” He widened his eyes making her laugh. “Do you want to help me?”

She nods, following him to the couch and takes a seat in his lap. Placing her little hand on the bottle, he allows her to hold it up as the baby continues to suck at its contents eagerly.

Where Ro was a daddy’s girl, James was a mama’s boy. He loved being in your arms the most and the first time he smiled it was because you were kissing his chubby cheeks.

Dylan, as always, was a wonderful big brother. He helped out where he could and even offered to babysit his siblings every now and then so you and the guys could spend some time alone.

“Hey mom. I need some money for baseball. They said that we need $100 for boosters and some equipment.”

“Geez, isn’t that what boosters is for? To raise money for you people?” Dylan beams at you as he gives you a hug making you smile. “Steve? Little man needs $100 of baseball.”

“Jesus, why so much?”

You glanced in his direction taken a bit off guard. Usually when it came to the kids, if they needed anything financially, he didn’t think twice. Between the three of you, money wasn’t as tight but with the new baby and house things weren’t as easy as before so you let it go. Dylan answered his question and he dug in his wallet to give his son what he needed.

“Everything alright, babe?”

“Huh? Yeah, you know me. I just want to make sure we have everything, you know?”

Your head tilted to the side as your wife and mother senses started tingling again. He was hiding something but what could it be? If it was something involving a surprise for you or the kids his face and body language would normally radiate excitement. Something was wrong.

“Hey, Dylan, do you mind keeping an eye on the other weirdos while I talk to Steve for a minute?”

He nods as you grab the man’s hand and tug him out towards the back porch.

############

When Eddie got home from work, he found you sitting on the couch gnawing on your thumb as Steve paced in the living room. His eyes found yours as you motioned for him to come sit beside you.

“Is everything ok? Where are the kids?”

“I asked my sister to watch them so the three of us could talk.” You softly smile as you kiss his cheek. “Steve has something he needs to tell you.”

“Okay? What’s going on, Stevie?”

The way Eddie looked up at him with concerned eyes made him feel so much worse at what he was about to tell him.

“Um, so, remember how on Aurora’s birthday, you were ecstatic because your mom hadn’t called? Well, uh, your father actually called from prison that day. I answered and hung up on him.”

As the man spoke, you kept your eyes on the metalhead’s face as it slowly fell.

“I-I-I went down there to see him, Ed, and I warned him to leave you alone. He said he needed you and was tired of being in jail, that he and Lynn wouldn’t stop until you showed up at an appeal. So…” Steve’s panicked gaze shifted your way before he looked directly at the man he loved. “For the past few months, I’ve been paying Allen $500 to leave you alone.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he tilted his head subtly towards you.

“Did you know about this?”, he whispered.

“No. I just found out everything today.”

He nodded as he rose to his feet, placing himself in front of Steve.

“Eddie, I swear, I was trying to make things easier for you. I hated—”

The metalhead’s fist flew knocking the man backwards before climbing on top of him and swinging his arms.

“Eddie, baby! Stop!” You tried to break them apart but he was too strong. Quickly, prepared for anything, you pushed a few buttons on your phone, sending a text to the one person you knew could get through to him. Three minutes later, Wayne flew in and pried his nephew off the man beneath him.

“Hey! That is enough! I need you calm down, son.”

“How dare you fucking go behind my back like that, Steven! I told you both NOT to go down there!”

“I was trying to help!”

“By giving him money that can be used for our family, you fucking asshole! You think this is going to stop him?!” He tried to charge at the man again but his uncle held him back. “You have no idea what he’s like. I do!”

“Steve, maybe, you should go for a drive or something. Let him cool down.” He glanced your way and you softly nodded in agreement causing the man to hang his head as he quietly left the house. “Now you look at me, Ed.” Wayne grabbed the metalhead’s face forcing him to focus as he murmured low enough so only he could hear.

“Eddie, I know you’re angry. I completely understand that but I need you breathe, ok? Your kids may not be here but Y/N is and she’s worried.” His chocolate eyes glanced at your concerned face as you hugged your arms around your body. “There you go. Can you sit on the couch calmly?”

He nods as he moves to take a seat. Without looking your way, his ringed fingers gesture for you to come closer and he pulls you onto his lap, hugging you to his chest.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t. When he told me what he did, I was angry to. Not just because of what he did but because I knew it would hurt you. Eddie, you know how Steve is. He genuinely thought he was protecting you.”

“No. No, Y/N. This is serious. This isn’t like when you went to his mom for money so he could go to school. My father isn’t someone who can be trusted. So many things can go wrong that can get Steve in real trouble. I…”, he shakes his head as he feels his anger rise again.

“Baby, I’m not excusing what he did but, maybe, if you explain to him more about your father and how this could backfire—”

“Which I could have done if he came to me first.”

“I know, honey. I know.”, you coo as you rub his chest. “Wayne, would you like to stay here? You’re more than welcome. Plus, I’m sure the kids would love to see you when they come back tomorrow.”

***

Eddie’s uncle did spend the night while Steve ended up sleeping a hotel. He texted you letting you know where he was and that he thought it was best to give his husband some space.

The two youngest kids were excited to see their grandpa when they got home but Dylan sensed something was wrong especially when he walked in and noticed his dad wasn’t there.

“Is it because I asked for money?”

“No, baby. No.”, you whispered as you kissed his forehead. “He’ll be home later.”

Your answer didn’t seem to sooth him as he sat next to Wayne and watched him try to make James smile.

“Sir, you have the fattest little belly I have ever seen. I could just…”, he made munching noises in his stomach making the baby giggle as he scrunched his head into his shoulders.

“Beep beep.”, Aurora parroted as the front door opened and Steve cautiously entered the home. “Dada!” She ran to his arms and he scooped her up giving her a big hug. “Dada, you have an ouch.” When she pointed to the light swelling where Eddie had hit him, he flinched slightly.

“Yeah, dada is dumb.”

“No.”, she giggled before pointing at Wayne. “Granpa is here. He…he’s making…bra-der happy.”

Dylan’s eyes scanned Steve carefully as he sat across from him in one of the chairs. “You alright, dad?”

“I’m fine, dude. I just missed you guys.”, he smiles.

You come around the corner and playfully swat at Ro’s curls before tickling her neck with your finger. “You. Scoot so I can say hi to dada.”

“Mama! Stop.”, she laughs as she slides down and sticks her tongue out at you. “You’re mean!”

You laugh along with her as you climb onto Steve’s lap and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I hurt someone I love. He should have hit me harder.”

“Baby…”, you sigh as you press your forehead to his cheek. “We’re going to talk again later after the kids go to bed especially since he’s had time to calm down and process everything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I know I should have—” You fingers cut him off as you place them on his lips.

“We have eyes on us. Later, ok?”

Steve’s own orbs scan the room finding Dylan watching you both as well as Aurora before she smiles and waves in your direction.

###########

One benefit of having three parents in the house is everyone can focus on one of the kids at any given time. After coming in to check on Ro and kiss her, Eddie stayed behind to tuck her in. As you passed Dylan on the couch downstairs, you poked your head into James’s room to find Steve with a sleeping infant in his arms.

“Alright, my love.”, you exhaled as you dramatically plopped your body down next to your son. “Time for you to go upstairs and get ready for bed.” Silently, he turns off the tv and begins to stand but you tug on the back of his shirt, bringing him down into your arms. “I know you and I know your big, beautiful brain. You’re a worrier like me. You didn’t do anything wrong, ok? You know we don’t mind giving you money for something you enjoy.”

“Everything got weird after I asked.”

“And that has nothing to do with you. Believe it or not, adults have issues sometimes that don’t involve their kids.” Dylan chuckled at your sarcasm as you kissed his cheek.

“I just don’t want to be the reason you guys get divorced or something.”

As he began to stand, you quickly yank him back again. “Baby, they aren’t Charlie. Just because Steve wasn’t here this morning doesn’t mean that we’re going to break up. The three of us have been together too long and been through too much. And…”, you sigh hating the thoughts that fill your mind as you continue. “Playing the devil’s advocate here, if for some reason we ever did break up, I assure you no matter what, that reason would never be because of you guys or anything you did.”

Dylan smiles as he hugs you before getting to his feet and pulling you up with him. As Eddie comes down the stairs, he meets him half and tugs him into a hug.

“I love you, kid.”

“I love you to.”

The moment he hears his footsteps bang up to his room, Steve appears and softly smiles in your direction.

“Counseling degree at work again?”

“No, that would be my mom degree. I saw it on his face when you came home. Even though he knows you guys aren’t like Charlie, I think there’s still a part of him that feels like he could lose you at if one thing goes wrong.”

“I know the feeling.”, Eddie mumbles as he shuffles his feet. “Sometimes I was afraid Wayne would give up on me to. Obviously, that never happened.”

Your hand gently rubs his back and you gesture with your head for you three to head for the bedroom.

***

The silence was deafening as you sat on the bed near the headboard as Eddie placed himself on the edge with his chin near his chest. Steve pulled one of the chairs from the living room so he could sit in front of you both, fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for someone to speak.

“Did he ask you for money or did you offer?”, the metalhead asked.

“I offered. He came up with the amount.”

“Steven, what do you know about prison? In general, I mean.”

“Uh…”

“Did you know that things are snuck in all the time? Drugs, weapons, food, etc.” Steve shook his head. “Did you know he can use your money to get shit like that or give to other inmates to do that? Did you know that people could find out where he’s getting so much money from and send people to harass you for the same treatment?”

When the man shook his head again, his eyes downcast towards the floor in shame.

“Do you know how I know that? The first time my father went in Wayne tried to help him by sending him $100 a month. A couple months later he asked for more and my uncle told him no. The next day someone broke into his trailer and stole half his shit. We learned later Allen owed some people inside money and when they found out he would be getting out soon they wanted it all upfront. When Wayne told him no, my dad told them where he had been getting the cash from so they sent people to get the rest however they could. Thankfully, he was at work that night.”

“Eddie, I…”

“You’d think prison would reform him but it doesn’t. That’s why he’s there, Steve. He does the same shit in there that he did when he was out. He cons people or steals from them and every time he always loses.”, he sighs angerly. “And that’s just one of the many reasons I’m pissed. We just had a fucking baby, Steven! $500 barely covers half of what he needs, plus Aurora and Dylan’s essentials. That’s for the kids. The three of us need things to including this house!”

You scoot closer and wrap your arms around him as you lean against his shoulder. You had never seen him like this. When he had gotten angry with his mom at Ro’s first birthday that was one thing. Right now, this was fury out of fear for you five and something that could have been avoided if—

“But I think what pisses me off the most is you didn’t fucking talk to me. I have always been up front with you when it came to your parents and especially your dad. Your dad isn’t like mine Steve. He could get someone fucking killed and I’ll be damned if it’s someone in my family. I don’t just ignore him and Lynn for me. I do it to protect you guys. It’s a simple thing and you made it way more complicated.”

A tear escaped down Steve’s cheek that he quickly wiped away as he sat up straighter and cleared his throat.

“I’m, um…I’m sorry, Eddie. You’re right. I should have talked to you, both of you. No matter what my intentions were. I—”

“Don’t do that.”, you cut him off. “Don’t do that authoritative, businessman style voice and dialogue you do because you think it’s what people want to hear.” His eyes roll as his leans forward and his leg bounces. “Be honest, Steve. Be yourself.”

“When he called you were making Aurora laugh, Ed, while Wayne was holding her. Y/N, you were eating cake out of the pan with a fork because you were pregnant and you and Dylan were leaning against each other smiling…it was perfect. A perfect fucking day without Charlie causing problems or Lynn calling to trigger his pain. My dad wasn’t appearing out of nowhere to fuck shit up or you mom to remind you that you’re still the town whore!” Steve’s beautiful brown irises looked at anything but you two as he tried to control his emotions.

“For this one moment, everything was exactly as it should be. Then your dad called, Eddie, reminding me something was always waiting…looming in the background to fuck everything up. So, yeah, I went down there to protect us; to protect you. Motherfucker is lucky there was glass between us.”, he growled. “With Lynn and Allen, I don’t know how you turned out so fucking amazing. I can understand why you would want them out of your life for good.” Steve shrugs as he leans back again. “Since I couldn’t hit him and I couldn’t convince him, I did the only other thing I could think of.”

“Well thank God you didn’t become a businessman like your dad wanted or he would have lost a ton of money.” Their eyes meet for the first time since they entered the room as they both let a breathy chuckle. “Steve, when will you realize that you don’t have to protect us and be the hero alone?”

The baby monitor starts to light up and you hastily get up before they can to check on James.

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

Steve got up from his chair to sit beside Eddie and wrapped his arms around him like you had.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m so fucking sorry, babe.”

The metalhead sighs using his fingers to lift his chin and bring his lips to his.

“Even though I’m mad at you, I still love you. I hope you know that.”

The boy nods as he kisses his lips again before trailing them down his cheek to his shoulder.

##############

Allen glances at the three Munson-Harrington adults, sitting on the other side of the glass before really taking in his son in front of him.

Eddie knew he’d have to go down to the prison to fix what Steve had done but you were surprised when he asked you two to join him. On the drive there, he inhaled one cigarette after the other until you reached over and stole his pack so he wouldn’t overdo it. While you waited, his eyes darted around as he occasionally babbled to block out his internal panic.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here. The last time was when I was 10, I think. My mom brought me and I remember them arguing about him being stuck in here. She said she couldn’t handle me alone.”, he shakily laughed. “Actually, it was more ‘what am I supposed to do with him.’”

“Eddie…” Turning his head, you kiss his lips as you caress his cheek with your thumb. “Everything is going to be ok. We’re right here with you.”

He nodded before gazing at Steve who was glaring into the void as Eddie reached to hold his hand before leaning to whisper in his ear. “Come back to me, sweetheart. I need you.”

“Well shit.”, Allen sarcastically smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Your boyfriend and I already came up with an arrangement so you didn’t need to come down here.”

“Husband. Not boyfriend. Always glad to know you’re just happy to see me, Allen.”

“Allen? Really? You call Wayne daddy now?”

“More or less for the last about 18 years.” They glare at each other before Eddie snickers. “You’re not even going to pretend to be nice to win me over, are you? I have no idea why you or Lynn would ask me to lie for you if you can’t even say something civil like ‘Hey Ed. Nice to see you.’”

You intertwine your fingers with his as your heart breaks. This was probably just a taste of what little Edward Munson experienced and it killed you.

“Look, we weren’t planning on staying for long. I just wanted to tell you the money Steve has been sending stops now and if you tell anyone that my family gave you that, I swear to God, I will make it my personal mission to make your life a living hell in here. You think things are bad now…”

You’d be lying if you didn’t say his dominance turned you on. There was nothing sexier to you than seeing them both be protective over you and the kids. Usually, it was Steve acting as protector and when he did it with Mr. Osbourne it drove you crazy. Hearing Eddie do it now was not only making you proud of him but excited to jump him later.

“Fine but in return I want you to go the appeal for me.”

“No, that won’t be happening either and let me tell you why. If you keep calling me, sending letters, or any other bullshit like that, I will come to your appeal but it won’t be on your behalf. I’ll remind the judge that you’re a scam artist and a fucking car thief but I’ll also enlighten them on what a great father you were to me between the black eyes and verbal assaults.”

Eddie leans closer to the glass as his eyes burn into the man on the other side.

“I am not a kid anymore. You two think you can still bully me but you’re wrong. You both need me way more than I need you.”

With that, he rises from the chair to leave before pausing and gesturing towards his father to wait with his index finger. Abruptly, he grabs Steve’s collar and tugs his lips to his for a passionate kiss. When he finally lets him go, the other man smirks, drunk off Eddie’s taste alone as the metalhead flips off his dad and turns to leave him behind.

****

About a mile down the road from the prison, Eddie swerved his van into an empty area, hurling off his seatbelt and shoving Steve into the back where you had been sitting. You stayed out of the way, allowing the metalhead to take control. There was a sense of urgency in their kisses, both needing each other in that moment. Eddie needed to convey to him that he could take care of him to and Steve showing him that he could willing give up that urge to control for his husband to take be there for him.

As they shoved down their pants, you slid your fingers down your own, rubbing your clit as you watched Eddie spit in his hand and stroke his cock before breaching Steve’s entrance.

“Fuck, yes. I love you so much, baby. Let-Let me take care of you.”

All Steve could do was nod as he wrapped his arms around him and clung to him as Eddie pumped into him harder. His ring lined hand reached out into the air and it took you a moment to realize he was trying to find you. As you leaned into his touch he yanked the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his.

When he dipped his fingers into your jeans and between your legs, he couldn’t help but smile against your lips.

“You’re so wet, princess. You like watching us together?”

Your own palm held the back of his from the outside of your pants as you rested your forehead on his.

“I like watching you—mmm—take care of us. I love you, Eddie. I’m so proud of you.”

He heavily sighed as he thrust into you both faster. Hearing Steve loudly grunt, you two watch him as his face scrunches and he releases his spend near the bottom of his tummy. Eddie grins as you push against his hand, guiding his pace until he feels you shutter and cum on his fingers. As you collapse next to Steve, he leans over the boy’s face as he chases his high.

“You’re both so—f-fuck—fucking pretty when you cum.”

Watching with half lidded eyes, you softly smile as Steve reaches up to caress his face, listening as he whispers sweetly to him.

“I love you to, honey. So fucking much. Cum, Eddie, please. We want to see it. I want to feel you fill me up. You…you deserve to…fuck…” He struggled to get the last few words out as the metalhead pumped into him so hard you imagined the van was shaking from the outside. They both grunted at the feeling as the boy came inside of him and like you collapsed on his other side.

The three of you panted as you starred at the ceiling.

“I am sorry I put you in this position, Munson.”

“I mean… I put you in this position but you know me…I’m open to any and all positions as long as it feels good for everyone.”

They smile when you giggle as Steve shakes his head playfully. “You’re so stupid.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. I forgive you, Harrington.” He leans up on his elbow to kiss him before dramatically leaning across him to do the same with you. “Alright, you two recharge and I’ll drive us home.”

@dad-steddie @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

#############

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @strangerfreak

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri

@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction

244 notes · View notes